#incoming a ton of fucking content warnings
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hnnn im gonna fucking GET YOU
Listen I’ve been thinking about quint fluids all day ok you don’t understand
Like … have we considered quint healing spit??? Homoerotic quint wound cleaning????? Phantom being a fucking freak and tenderly licking over Swiss’ wounds to “heal” them ????
Or quint tears? Get one fucked stupid and crying? Using the tears as some sort of further sedative??
Quint cum???? Fucked up omega using his cum in the infirmary as medicine??????
I’m saying we have options and possibilities and I shouldn’t be allowed around the quint ghouls
#I feel like I should apologize in advance for whoever reads this#incoming a ton of fucking content warnings#blood#cw blood#blood play#wound cleaning#medfet#cw medfet#cw spit#dacryphilia#dubious consent#hi#aether ghoul#phantom ghoul#omega ghoul#quintosis
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6.3 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language.
Word Count: 500
Previously On...: Lily tricked Bucky into going on a picnic date; they made plans for a "friend date" for later that evening.
A/N: Sorry this is late- I tried something new with the texts, but it took too long, so I don't know if I'll do it again, lol. Reminder: My break is starting today, so there will be no new updates until Thursday, May 23rd. I'm hoping to get a ton of writing done, but I won't leave you hanging for content, I promise!
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
He was really hoping his plans with Lily would take his mind off of his fuckup with Major. He must have thought about calling her about seventy five thousand times, but each time he picked up his phone to dial her number, he saw her shrug in his mind’s eye when he asked if he could call her later. Lily may have been wrong about the reasoning, but what if she had been right about the gist of it– If Major really wanted him to call her, wouldn’t she have said so? It was driving Bucky crazy.
So, he agreed to a night out with Lily as a distraction. After their impromptu picnic, he’d walked her back to her car and they’d set back off to the Compound, where Bucky napped and took a shower. He was just deciding what to wear to dinner in a few hours when a text came through on his phone. He almost did a double take when he saw it was from Major.
Sugar: Can we talk?
Bucky’s heart sped up at the sight of her words. She wanted to talk. This was good, right?
Bucky bit his lip. Lily would understand if he had to cancel, right? He’d explained to her how much he liked Major, how upset he was when he thought he’d blown it with her. She’d get why it was so important for him to meet with Major tonight. They could do a raincheck on their friend-date.
Okay, she was putting the ball in his court. Bucky wracked his brain, trying to come up with an idea that would be spontaneous, but also romantic, so he could show her that he was serious about her, about making this thing between them work. An idea struck him suddenly, and though it wasn’t very original of him, all things considered, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He was just going to need a few hours to get everything ready. Glancing at his phone, he realized he needed to get in gear; he didn’t have a lot of time, and there were things to do.
>> DROPPED A PIN
>> Meet me here at 7:30pm.
A few hours later, Bucky was doing his final set up preparations. He checked his phone– Major should be arriving any minute, and if he said he didn’t have butterflies in his stomach, he’d be lying. He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone buzzed with an incoming text, but it was just from Lily.
Shit. In his haste to get everything prepared for Major, Bucky had completely forgotten he’d made dinner plans with Lily. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It was a long moment before the three dots appeared on his screen, indicating Lily was typing.
Bucky smiled at his phone, not sure why he had been so nervous about telling Lily he was dating Major in the first place.
<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Incoming very long ramble about the fragility of internet content and the ways some things are impossible or difficult to preserve
The thing that frustrates me most about poppytwt is how fruitless it all feels.
Like, you can't archive or research poppytwt effectively. You can certainly TRY but you'll find very little!!!
You have people who spent years in the poppytwt fandom who can TELL you about fanfics they read, art they saw, friends they made who were deactivated or doxxed or harassed or who committed suicide or are otherwise lost to time, but they'll have almost nothing to show for it because poppytwt was actively designed to be as impossible to trace back as possible, precisely because people were afraid of harassment.
How are you supposed to find, say, Tommy/Tubbo fanfiction? There's some on the actual tag, sure, especially now that poppytwt is for the most part over and it's considered "okay" to ship them now, but I'll tell you right now there are thousands of fics that won't pop up because the fic had no tags whatsoever, or spelled Tubbo like Tvbb0, or used some God awful emoji combination to convey who they were talking about, or were straight up DELETED. Discord servers moved every few years, fanart and fics were usually tagged with censored bullshit or not tagged at all and then taken down and deleted, entire accounts were ALSO deleted, even assuming something was tagged properly it's probably gone.
Most of us in the fandom at the time didn't think to make archives of anything while it was happening, so we've lost like.... probably enough content to make our own small website full of it, and even more chatrooms.
Almost all of the public facing content left is NSFW and/or more controversial kinks like CNC, watersports, etc, which could be because people who post that content are more resistant to criticism anyway but honestly I don't know why that is, and I know sfw content beyond what you can currently find EXISTED, we consumed tons of it back in the day, but it's almost fucking impossible to find!!! And most of it, when you get your hands on a link, is GONE!!!!
It happens with NSFW content too though, if course. Veradie was one of the most popular artists in poppytwt by far and a lot of the art links don't work. Some have archived versions with working links but a lot is gone because the original post leading to it doesn't work, and Veradie, like, the person, is missing. I'm sure she(?) would know a lot about old fandom and might even have archived some stuff, but if you're some sort of internet historian how in the FUCK are you supposed to find her??? She deactivated without a trace!!!
I made friends with a user called Kencydoo on here and one day I logged on and Kency was just GONE without warning or any indication of where they were moving to, no DMs to people they knew, nothing. I don't even know if it was staff or mass reports or a self-deletion. I do know Kency sometimes posted NSFW dead dove stuff and had tags you could block to avoid it, so it's possible one of those posts blew up and got the blog taken down, but I have no level of certainty.
Reese (I think it was Reese?) had people hunting for a "main account" that didn't exist for harassment and doxxing purposes and then ALMOST left (I'm glad you're still here @reesesrambles )
There's no stability for poppytwt content and no real shelf life which means that most of the history and even the harassment that REQUIRED THE EXISTENCE of a seperate fandom is gone. We can describe what the old dsmp fandom was like and why poppytwt exists and what it means but most of the actual concrete fandom blogs or resources are GONE, absolutely obliterated.
Like you can't make a Strange Æons style video about poppytwt, you literally can't, because almost all of it is like the fucking city of Atlantis. There WAS stuff here, but it was constantly sinking.
Most people I know for a fact were involved in poppy honestly just left for the hermitcraft fandom because people over there are like...normal?? The hermitcraft fandom allows RPF and doesn't give a shit about shipping characters who are "sibling coded" or whatever the fuck. They understand the concept of just not clicking on something you don't want to see, instead of launching a twitter cancellation campaign against people. So like if you can talk about a similar, and GOOD source of content that is also actively ongoing and not get shit for it, why would you chose to create for a discontinued peice of content and/or streamers who you WILL get shit on for writing about?? Like if your options are "write grian RPF and be able to not stress and have a fun time" or "write tommyinnit RPF and delete hate comments every day and watch your back constantly" why the fuck would you pick the latter???
And it's frustrating because the fact everything disappears means it feels like you don't even have much to look back on. The friends you made or content you enjoyed about a series you love is all dust now, and if you were into the DSMP for a long time (and therefore in poppytwt for a long time) then it's so much worse. It all adds up.
Anyways that's my ramble on how fucked up it is that entire communities can be lost in an era where things can supposedly be maintained forever does anyone want to drink a caprisun with me
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hii there! you may have moved away, but as someone who really wants to study at the uni of edinburgh, i’m wondering — what’s it like there, did you enjoy it? i’m also a tumblr user, and want to study eng/hist, so your blog has been so interesting to look at:D
hiya! i still live here (and will be living in edinburgh indefinitely :) )
life at the university is kind of wild right now, I won't lie lmao. There's a lot going on politically within the uni at the moment, with gender liberation (especially trans rights, which sucks for me as a trans person), cost of living, a housing crisis and calls for the president of the university to step down due to raising tuition costs/underpaying staff/overcrowding courses and classrooms while simultaneously making about £43,000 more than he made last year (A HELL OF A LOT AND ALSO WAY TOO MUCH) while everyone else suffers. There is also a major class divide, but there's a society founded to combat that and a lot of resources for people from lower incomes (like myself) which are helpful. Timetabling and assessment feedback also suck but honestly the previously mentioned stuff is far worse.
But on more positive notes:
The social aspect of university is amazing. Even if you don't find clubbing to be your thing, there's plenty to do with societies and you'll meet people on your course quickly in your tutorials and if they're decent people you'll likely become quick friends. Memberships for societies range from £3-£10 for most, but some do exceed (if they expectedly need more money to run (ie. sports societies), and most host at least 1 activity a week (usually at 4 or 6-ish PM).
During freshers' there's a ton of things to do both in and out of the uni as well. Societies will host multiple events a week; taster sessions, tryouts, tours, etc. If you're into clubbing, then clubs also have student special events for the week. St James Shopping Centre also hosted a student-only shopping night which was....... an event.
As for classes, as I mentioned timetabling is often quite shit (I have 6hrs straight of classes on a friday...), but the classes themselves are pretty much everything you would expect from a university level class. People sit and type away (which will gradually decrease over the semesters....) and no one talks to each other (which will also change). I'm assuming you want to do English Literature and not English Language? It is called Literary Studies in first year, and I am doing it as an elective right now. I 2nd year you can choose to do English or Scottish Literature (or both). In the first semester, you will write 2 essays: one on a poem and another on a scene from a piece of drama. Most likely you will pick from these plays:
A Doll's House
Macbeth
It's True, It's True, It's True
Content warnings are given by the lecturers before a lecture is to be held, and accommodations are given if need be.
In semester 2 the focus is on prose, so novels, short stories, etc. We are studying:
The Private Memoirs and Confessions of A Justified Sinner (my fav <3)
Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi
Gun Island by Amitav Ghosh
Silas Marner by George Eliott
Beloved by Toni Morrison
Again, content warnings are given and accommodations made if needed. There's still 2 essays, but one is on an except and another is a short dissertation comparing 2 of the novels.
As for the city itself, it is fucking gorgeous. It is so easily walkable, and even if you don't want to/can't walk far, the busses are fantastic and can get you anywhere in about 20 minutes max. Holyrood park is gorgeous, especially at the summit of Arthur's seat. The majority of the architecture is Victorian and older (dating back as far as the 13th century, I believe? Idk im not a historian) which gives the whole city, especially Old Town, a certain charm. There's plenty of "aesthetic" spots, coffee shops, photo ops, etc. Plenty of crows abound for that extra gothic factor. If you want to see a lot of greenery other than Holyrood park then I'm afraid you will have to move quite far out -- it is a very compact city. There's a lot of museums and artsy places, too. Something for everyone! My only complaint is the amount of construction going on at the minute, but I understand it is completely necessary to maintain the old and fragile architecture. I would like to be able to see over North Bridge and walk down George IV Bridge undisturbed tho :/
Other random bits of info:
If you want a job, apply in November (December latest)
STAY AWAY FROM HIVE AT ALL COSTS
Flat searching is far too stressful, but start doing it early.
(Or you could apply to the Student Housing Co-op.... but you didn't hear that from me... (im gatekeeping))
Pollock Halls is very culty. Just learn how to cook and go to literally anywhere else
Except Kincaid's if you don't like clubbing
Baristo's coffee is the cheapest of all the on-campus cafes
Most of your classes will be in either 50 or 40 George Square. They like to trick you into thinking they're 2 separate buildings but they are actually connected by a downstairs study space/cafe
You will not find a seat in the Library past 11AM. Best find somewhere else to go early on in the year
Get Lidl plus on your phone
There will often be times you wished you had a camera on you. Learn to be in the moment and appreciate it there and then instead
So far though, I am enjoying myself. However, I am procrastinating 2 essays and should have been studying these past 3 hours but it's so fine :):):)
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I couldn’t respond earlier bc I was out but THIS
THIIIIIIISSSSS
WHY ARE MOST OF THE FANDOMS IM IN LIKE THIS.
THIS IS LIKE MY MAIN GRIPE WITH FANDOM (I’m in hater mode constantly because of this)
Long ranty post incoming, warning for opinions, discussion of sexism and brief discussion with “problematic ships”
Writers will show up and give you the most detailed world and people will have shipping wars for no reason.
And like I am in the boat of “enjoy fandom however you like, it’s your blog your content do what you want” but it’s disheartening when you’re on a tag for a franchise and none of the content is real or true or about the show and it just leads to a lot of other unpleasant problems with fandom. It’s fine if you do enjoy some of the things I’m about to complain about but the issue for me is when it completely dominates fandom bc it’s just incredibly boring to me personally.
AND DISCLAIMER. I do like shipping! Just not only shipping. It’s like butter. I like butter in my sandwiches but not tons of it on its own. I want the cheese or ham or lettuce and bread in my sandwich too. I’d like to enjoy the whole sandwich and the whole media franchise.
BUT LIKE CAN WE PLEASE talk about the huge mischaracterising and flanderisation that happens when people care more about a specific relationship dynamic and basically make content for that but with the costume of a specific fandom as long there’s a single hint of that happening. Like people just like a ship trope and they slap any old character onto it.
And it’s always the same fucking “they’re divorced <3” like I get it you like divorced old men (examples: the Magnus archives, Lego monkie kid) . And yknow I feel like all the fandoms I’m in have just a mlm couple and sometimes that’s the entire fanbase (examples: see above, Zelda, project sekai). Which at times feels a lot like a normalised version of just yaoi fangirling which has a lot of weird implications for society.
And also can we talk about women. Because whilst most fandoms tend to have THE MLM tm ship, sometimes fandoms have favourite men characters who don’t have to be shipped in order to be popular. But most women in the fandoms I’m in seem to only be popular because they can be shipped and this is such dated behaviour. (Example: Skylor vs Morro from Ninjago, again 80% of the cast of project sekai it makes me so mad). Like fandom only know horny or haunted by trauma fr fr /hj.
And like yknow, there’s also the normal amount of passive misogyny as a factor, such as women just being less popular in general (the Magnus archives has popular NON CANON ship of Elias and Peter which has no excuse of being so popular in comparison the two main cast canon couples of Melanie and Georgie or Basira and Daisy (ofc it makes sense that Jon and Martin are popular bc they’re the main main characters)
Like sometimes it feels like fandom is so romance oriented that women are simplified into their romanceability and they see this treatment much more than men (but this defo does happen to men and non binary people too but in general these are patterns). Also there’s also the immense woman hate when a piece of media has been implying a het romance but the fandom likes the gay ship more. I’ve seen this happen with Nya from Ninjago, this is basically happening with Yona from totk (and I’m going mad over it).
And speaking of romance orientated things, rip to anyone who looks into a hc tag and it’s entirely flooded with x reader and in like gentlest way possible all of those posts are not very in character and I guess they aren’t supposed to be, they’re just supposed to look dateable but like you see why that can be annoying right. Like I wish we had literally any other kind of headcanon. I wanna know a characters food preferences, I wanna know their medical history, I wanna know what kind of music they like or if their bilingual or what subjects they’d study at school. I want a description of literally any other relationship other than romantic.
But. But. The biggest rest in peace goes to fandoms where they’re main character roster is all sibling dynamics. My bestie is in the dc fandom and tmnt and like. Rip. Disastrous and terrifying. Deepest condolences. An entirely sibling cast combined with people determined to ship everything under the sun leads to unsavoury concepts. And yknow it could’ve been avoided if people realised that other relationships existed. And btw I said at the top that I think it’s fine to enjoy some things I complain about, this one doesn’t count. If you’re out here specifically glorifying and romanticising child relationships , sibling relationships or abuse, then you need to change your mindset. I don’t wanna get into the pro/anti bs, but like if you’re out here with the intent on saying that those relationships are perfectly fine, then I suggest getting therapy or something.
Other than that, generally it does frustrate me when it feels like a franchise is wasted on a majority of its fanbase. I have this same problem with tumblr sexymen, the jokes are funny but the actual unironic simping for a mischaracterisation really irks me, bc I just don’t like “horny” being an excuse to throw an entire franchise in the bin. Which is why I was so irrationally angry at people rehydrating Ganondorf from totk after only seeing the first teaser trailer. Also related, but I actually have the lmk macaque tags blocked because he was every other post and people mischaracterised him (imo) as hell he was the fandoms emo kitty cat (imo) and I do not care for it actually.
But I guess the solution is to be the change you wish to see in the world, so I’ll just come up with the headcanons and the content myself I guess. Bc I do believe ppl should enjoy how they want (barring supporting ickiness) even if I privately think that that character would not fucking say that. This is more of just a vent of why sometimes the fandom tag can be annoying to me, rather than telling people they should change bc I’m angry.
Sorry if I am being super blunt and mean (I started writing this and then life happens and suddenly you’re a little too angry :p), this is ofc all my own opinion.
Ps. I will note, I think Ninjago is one of the least ship dominated fandoms I’ve been in compared to the others. Like Ik there’s a lot non ship content and more hc in my experience at least. Like I don’t think as many characters get flanderised to the extent of my other fandoms. It’s not like it doesn’t happen but I appreciate the lessened severity of it (I might just be following cool ppl). And not saying there isn’t a wide variety of non ship content in other franchises, Ninjago just sticks out to me rn ig lol.
it sucks SO hard being one of the small minority in any fandom who couldn't care less about the ships present, and who really cares more for the lore than anything.
I dont CARE about new ship fuel youve found I wanna discuss why this super cool mystical thing has been secretly going on and what the fuck it means !!!!
#on that note of suddenly maybe not being in an optimal headspace to debate#let’s hope I don’t engage with people who do#why do I insist on writing borderline discourse posts#also I do not believe in the terms pr/ship and a/ti#because people don’t use them to mean the same thing#so my opinion on the matter is if you are shipping something problematic because you think it’s completely fine then change your mindset#if it’s something as more of a vent and yknow it’s bad and you properly tag#then like I’m still questioning why it gotta be on the internet at all but at least you are aware of morals#idk in general don’t be a fuckin creep it’s not that hard#this is such a tangent sorry#oshvtuhinsshjmvuj#totk spoilers#for that one note#i won’t tag fandoms tho#reblog#discourse#for ppl who wanna block ig#i had 4 hours sleep and have been awake for 18 hours#gn if I wake up and my opinions have repercussions then#oh dear#oh well
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WHAT'S HAPPENING IN THE PHILIPPINES?
Active volcanoes Mayon, Kanlaon, and Taal are on Alert Level 1 since early 2020.
#OustDuterteNOW, until now, no further actions have been announced by the president.
Kita Shinsuke, of course, because supremacy (he has nothing to do with the issues in the Philippines. He is an anime character, was trending because of the latest episode of the anime).
DDS — people who keeps supporting President Duterte even after TONS AND TONS OF FAILS. They're fucking blind.
#LetLeniLead, Leni Robredo is the vice president of the Philippines. So far, she is the only high-ranking government official moving and executing actions to save the people.
DEBOLD SINAS WAS SEEN BEING RESCUED WITH THREE RESCUE BOATS.
Project NOAH — the Philippines' primary disaster risk reduction management program which was handled by the Department of Science and Technology — was DEFUNDED back in 2017. It is now managed by the University of the Philippines.
Gina Lopez was the late secretary of the Department Environment and Natural Resources. Along with the also late Senator Miriam Defensor Santiago, they've posted warnings about the possible effects of the continuation of quarrying.
SIERRA MADRE, a mountain range that has helped weaken incoming typhoons in Luzon, IS IN DANGER.
A netizen claimed that the construction for Kaliwa Dam has commenced. Even so, people are still signing the petition to save Sierra Madre.
I have also seen posts from foreigners that Duterte is the best president they never had. They say that because news from the Philippines are filtered.
The president claims that he did not kill anyone with his bare hands but year/s prior to that, he said on National TV that he killed people.
HE MADE RAPE JOKES. ON NATIONAL TV. AND PEOPLE (especially DDS) DEMAND TO STILL RESPECT HIM??? HOW DARE YOU?
Extrajudicial Killings! War on Drugs! THEY KILL INNOCENT PEOPLE JUST BECAUSE OF SLIGHT ACCUSATIONS.
“One whiff of corruption and you're dead,” is what he said back then but when the news about PhilHealth erupted, he demanded an investigation and I think it's still on process right now.
DEBOLD SINAS WAS PROMOTED DESPITE HAVING A MAÑANITA DURING LOCKDOWN.
DENR threw artificial white sand (dolomite — used in construction, might cause skin and eye irritation due to long exposure, might also affect the lungs) in Manila Bay for “beautification.” People visited the site despite of health protocols.
ANTI-TERRORISM BILL (which is now a law) caused a ruckus. The content of this law is so vague, it didn't even elaborate on how and when a person is considered a terrorist. This is his way to shut up the activist.
DRAGGING ACTIVISTS INTO JAIL WITHOUT WARRANT OF ARREST!!!
FUCK THE PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT. FUCK THEIR INCOMPETENCY. I'M TIRED BUT NOT FOR SPEAKING UP FOR MY COUNTRY.
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The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 26
Hannibal, Will and y/n host a dinner to put an end to everything
@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon
Trigger warnings: PTSD, violence
"Hannibal, baby," You called down from the wine cellar. "Which one pairs best with the paella?"
"A Spanish white!" Will interjected.
You rolled your eyes, then looked at his shelf full of Spanish whites. "Thanks, Hannibal."
"You're the sommelier, [F/N]." Will shouted back. "Go with your gut!"
"Verdejo it is." You said to yourself, grabbing the high-shouldered bottle from the shelf.
You returned from the cellar and headed to the dining room, where Will was dutifully setting the table.
"Well aren't you the perfect little homemaker?" You commented, making sure he caught you eyeing his backside.
Will playfully snatched the wine from your hands. "We can't all be the breadwinners, can we, Ms. Restaurant Owner?"
You laughed, looking around at your triple-income house and accepting a kiss from your Will. You put your hands on his shoulders and broke the kiss.
"You know Hannibal isn't going to let you attend one of his famous dinner parties in a flannel, right?" You warned him, lips hovering a few inches from his face.
"Two guests is not a dinner party." Will corrected you. "I figured you'd know this after six months but, baby, Hannibal is always overdressed for everything."
"Better overdressed than the other way around, my treasure." Hannibal said, standing in the threshold. "Why don't you go slip in to that suit I bought you?"
Will threw his hands up. "Do you two just live to gang up on me? You know I can buy my own clothes, right?"
You scoffed. "Babe, you spent your last paycheck almost entirely at Bass Pro Shops-"
"And then we spent the day workshopping new seafood dishes for the restaurant with the fish I caught." Will shrugged. "You don’t get to benefit from it then complain."
You put up your hands in surrender. "Fair enough."
"So I don't make an ordeal out of this in front of guests," Hannibal said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out two small drawstring bags and gave one to each of you. "Happy six months, my darlings."
"Six month anniversary presents?" Will laughed. "What are we, high school students?"
"Do you not want it?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't say that." He mumbled.
You opened the bag and slid the contents into your hand. A beautiful solid white ring with ornate carvings tumbled out.
"It's beautiful." You smiled, sliding it on to your finger. "What is it?"
"A ring, my indulgence." Hannibal chuckled.
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sure, but what is it made of?"
He hesitated for a moment. "Ivory."
"Should I be concerned that you somehow know both of our ring sizes?" Will asked, admiring how his fit perfectly on his finger.
“I think you mean ‘thank you, Hannibal’.” You corrected him. “Even if it is a little uncanny.”
The doorbell rang. Hannibal threw a dish towel over his shoulder and pointed to Will.
"Go change." He ordered. "I will not have my guests seeing you in such an unsightly state."
"It's Jack and [F/N]'s friend." Will protested.
"Sure, I'll get the door." You said. "Gee, thanks [F/N], that would be so helpful!"
You opened the door with a smile.
"Agent Crawford!" You greeted, shaking his hand.
"Oh, please." He laughed. "Call me Jack."
"And this must be Bella." You said, offering his wife your hand. "Jack has told me all about you."
"So you're the infamous [F/N] [L/N]?" Bella accepted with a smile. "It's so nice to meet you."
Jack removed his hat and coat, then handed you a bag. "For you."
"You shouldn't have." You said, knowing immediately that it was wine. Then you pulled it out of the bag. Your eyes went wide and your jaw hung open.
"Holy shit you really shouldn't have." You repeated.
Jack shrugged and smiled smugly. "I pulled some strings in evidence. Figured you might want it."
You threw your arms around his neck, keeping a tight grip on the 1907 Heidsieck Monopole.
"Hey, do I get a hug?" Said another voice.
Charissa waved to you from the porch.
"Holy shit, hey!" You opened your arms. Charissa jumped into your embrace and squeezed you. She'd always hugged you tighter after seeing you half-alive in a hospital bed with your seldom-seen lovers at your bedside.
"Jack, this is my friend Charissa Rodriquez." You introduced. "She was the one who sent you the address."
"So you're 'tip', huh?" Jack's face lit up. "The FBI owes you a debt of gratitude, Ms. Rodriquez."
"Tip?" You said, looking at both Jack and Charissa.
"The address we received came from an obvious burner email." Jack explained. "We thought it was from Chase, so we arrived with a ton of backup anticipating an attack. Turns out we needed it."
Charissa shrugged. "I thought you could never be too careful."
"Well, intentional or not," Jack said. "You helped us a lot."
"You're Charissa Rodriquez?" Will said from the staircase. He wore a grey suit with a dark blue dress shirt that fit him scarily well considering he hadn't even tried it on.
"Enchanté, monsieur." Charissa said, eyeing him up with a hungry smile. "You must be Will."
"Down, girl." You crossed your arms. Your tone was playful, but had a slight threatening bite. "He's all mine."
"Not all yours." Hannibal corrected, entering the scene to finally greet his guests. "Agent Crawford, Bella, Ms. Rodriquez, welcome."
"Wow." Charissa said, dumbfounded. "I feel like I'm meeting a celebrity."
"Oh, surely the rumors unraveled after the old place went out of business." Hannibal answered. "There are far more interesting things to talk about than myself."
"Very few, but they do exist." Jack commented.
Charissa folded her arms. "Like the bartender who stood up to a psychotic cult leader and found two wonderful boyfriends to take care of her?"
"I've heard that one!" You added. "I hear she bought the restaurant for next to nothing after it became a stigmatized property."
Carissa narrowed her eyes at you. "I still cannot believe you told him."
You shrugged. "I think it all worked out."
Hannibal gathered everyone around the table and tasked you with pouring the wine.
"Surely you know why I've invited you here tonight." He asked, taking a seat at the head. "The high courts have ruled Chase's death a suicide."
"Cheers to that." Will said, raising his glass.
"Nobody actually believes it was a suicide." Jack clarified, trying not to look at you too obviously. "But the jury didn't want to dignify him with a proper homicide ruling."
Charissa glared at you, not trying to not be obvious. "Only one person at the table knows for sure."
You shook your head. "I hit my head really hard, the details are just not there."
"But [F/N]'s DNA was on the gun." Bella added.
"But not her fingerprints." Jack said. "It was saliva. We think he tried to choke her with his fingers before reaching for the gun."
"Did you ever find that finger?" Charissa said like it was nothing.
Jack, who was more interested in the paella than the conversation, shook his head. "Never."
Your eyes widened. You left the finger with the gun, you were sure of it.
"Must we discuss the gory details over dinner?" Will said, sensing your discomfort.
Charissa rested her chin in her hands. "Would you rather talk about your three-person couple?"
"I distinctly remember spitting the finger out." You insisted.
"We found so many pieces of bone in that room," Jack continued. "It's genuinely of far less concern than the dynamite lining the walls and bunker full of cocaine, stolen medical supplies and baby coffins."
"And the stained glass window made of human skin." You added.
"You know a case is fucked when a lost finger is of the least concern." Charissa commented.
"The important thing is that it's over." Will said. "He's dead and [F/N] is alive."
Bella smiled at you. "God really is looking out for you, [F/N]."
You forced a smile, telling yourself that Bella had the best intentions. But her good intentions revived Chase's voice in your head, which was a voice you'd spent the last six months trying to forget. You tightened your grip on your utensils to relieve some tension, but it didn’t work.
The table went quiet, waiting for Bella to realize her mistake. Will put his hand over yours and looked into your eyes. He mouthed the word 'breathe' and some similar affirmations.
Hannibal raised his head, knowing the light casting shadows on his face intimidated people. "Ms. Bella, we generally don't talk religion here."
She covered her mouth with her fingertips. "I'm so sorry, [F/N], I just meant-"
You put your hand up. "Please, just don't."
"The important thing is that [F/N] recovered forty missing women and reunited them with their families." Will said. "And there was no divine presence involved in that."
You smiled softly. "I'll drink to that."
"And you'll also be happy to know that the woman who assisted him in luring all those girls into the cult," Jack added. "She's looking at twenty-five to life without parole."
"What about the babies?" Bella piped up. "Weren't there, like, at least twelve newborns?"
"That's where the department of family and child services took over." Jack answered. "Whether the biological mothers kept them or put them up for adoption is out of our hands, but I do know each child was thoroughly examined and are all up to date on their shots."
"Seriously, though." Charissa interjected. "How do you misplace an entire finger?"
"It's one of the easier appendages to misplace." Hannibal answered, speaking with experience. "I heard it wasn't just the one that you couldn't find."
Jack looked up from his plate, confused. "Now how did you know about that?"
"The man took a 12 gauge bullet directly to the hand, Jack." Hannibal said with a small chuckle. "It's more likely you find no fingers than any at all."
"The bones will turn up somewhere." Jack said, resignedly.
He just happened to say the word “bones” as you were glancing at your ring.
You smiled a little too wide. “They just might.”
#hannibal lecter#hannibal x you#hannibal x reader#hannibal nbc#the sommelier#will graham#will graham x reader#will graham x you#hannibal x you x will#hannigram x reader#hannibal x reader x will
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–– BOOK // SAN.
pairing: non-idol! san x gn! reader genre: fluff word count: 2.7k warnings: profanities, poorly written, no more that i know of
“hongjoong, is the book back?” you hesitantly ask, giving your friend, the librarian- hongjoong, an apologetic smile.
“hey y/n..” he reflected your smile, “sorry. it still isn’t,” he pouts at you, scanning the borrowed books log sheet.
you sigh and throw your head back, growing frustrated.
you see, there’s one book series you’ve been reading and it’s been exactly one month since you’ve last read the second book of the series. the next book, harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban, is still yet to be returned.
“come on,” you groan, throwing a fit in front of hongjoong. “don’t you have another copy for that? the other library is miles away and i really, really want to finish the series soon,”
“okay, first of all,” hongjoong chuckled. “the harry potter series is hella expensive, y/n. second, just wait for it then, i know who borrowed it, i’ll just tell them off for you,” he winks, patting your forehead lightly with a book.
“who is it anyway? i’d love to tell them off myself,” you huffed, raising your eyebrow.
“it’s choi san,” hongjoong laughs when your face scrunched, “you don’t know him, do you?” you shake your head, “he’s a friend of mine. i’ll make sure to make him give it back to you the moment i tell him, okay? now go back home, it’s getting kind of late and i have a date,” he winks, leaving you all pouty on the reception table.
after throwing a few glances at the books in front of you, you decided to go home after giving hongjoong a small wave.
reminiscing the small bits of the second book of harry potter to stop yourself from forgetting it, you have already arrived in your apartment to see tons of boxes beside yours.
“oh,” the landlady opens her door to take out some trash just in time, smiling at you. “yeah, you’ll have a new neighbor! he was in a rush and instantly got that room a while ago so i didn’t have time to tell you.”
“it’s okay, i’m not much of a socializer myself,” you share a chuckle, and after a small talk, you finally let her do her chores and you finally enter your house, after taking another glance at all of the boxes in front of your neighbor’s door.
wouldn’t hurt to say your greetings tomorrow.
“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you continued to mumble under your breath, grabbing everything insight that you could think you needed.
you started scrambling around your flat when you woke up late, caused by your alarm not going off.
“holy mother of god!” you exclaim the moment you step out of the doors, broad shoulders and wide chest greeting you. you gasp exaggeratedly, looking up to meet the man’s eyes.
you gasp for the second time, swallowing the lump on your throat that stops you from forming words. the man in front of you anxiously smiles, his dimples showing making your knees weak.
“uh, hi,” he mumbles, tiptoeing and pressing his lips to a thin line.
“hi!” you unintentionally squeal, widening your eyes. “mmh, hello.” you regain your composure, smiling at him, “you’re my new.. neighbor!”
“yeah!” he gave off the same amount of excitement, grinning at you and it may be early, too early to gawk at him and say you’d grown a little crush on your new, cute but at the same time, very very hot neighbor.
“holy fucking shit,” you mumble as you felt your phone vibrating, a call incoming from probably one of your friends to remind you that you.. “i have a class in five fucking minutes,” you gear yourself to run, patting him in the arm, “i’ll see you again! bye!” you wave your hands as you look back at him, already forming an apology to the professor for being late.
“what the fuck did you do that you’re late for almost half an hour?” yunho drags you to your seat, your readied apology faded away as you managed to sneak into an available seat yunho saved beside him.
“my alarm didn’t go off,” you quickly mumble, taking your book and notes out of your bag,
“sucks to be you,” yunho sighs, watching you with squinted eyes.
“oh hell no, i love today, even.” you smirk at him, leaning closer to whisper. “my new neighbor.. is hot. one hundred percent hot, another hundred percent cute,” you quietly squeal, hitting your friend’s arm.
“stop, it hurts,” yunho grasps your arm, making you attend to the class going on. “fangirl later, listen first,” yunho winks, and you smile at him in excitement, feeling good even though your day started shitty.
“so.. how’s he again?” yunho sits in front of you with his food tray, giddily waiting for you. “are you finally getting a partner? oh my god,”
“okay well, first, like i said- how can someone be so hot and cute at the same fucking time?” you rhetorically ask, taking a bite of your own food. “his shoulders- woah,” you gasp, “it’s,” you try to imitate the measurement of the man’s shoulders with your hands, “...so wide,” you almost growled, and yunho almost choked laughing at you.
“what’s his name?” yunho asks the million-dollar question, making you gasp for the nth time today.
“i didn’t get it,” you shrink on your seat, pouting. “i’d see him again anyway, there’s no rush.”
“yeah, you can get it later,” yunho assures, rubbing your hand. “by the way, have you gotten the book?”
just when you thought you had your day going well, you frowned at the sound of book again.
“i still haven’t,” you scrunched your nose, “fucking choi san and his slow reading,”
“oh, choi san?” yunho perks from his seat, interested. “he’s a friend,”
“of course he is, hongjoong and you are friends, of course, the social butterfly is friends even with hongjoong’s friends,” you snicker playfully, finishing your food to head out to the library once again.
“oh, y/n!” hongjoong excitedly greets you with a light hug, and seeing him all jumpy with you made you excited too.
“is it back? is it back?” you poke his side, jumping.
“no! but the one who borrowed it is here! right timing,” he leads you to a shelf of books and seeing the familiar back and broad shoulders, you gasp, and you could only imagine the amount of oxygen you have inhaled today.
“you?!” you immediately frowned, unintentionally shouting which made hongjoong cover your mouth.
the man in question turns his tense body to you, sees your familiar face, and instantly smiles.
“oh hey! i just realized i didn’t get your na-,”
“choi san.” you said through gritted teeth, “where the hell is the book?!” you questioned right away, pushing his shoulder.
san shifts his eyes to you and hongjoong, begging for help.
“w-what book..” he slouches, as if it made him smaller beside you.
“hongjoong!” you whined, turning back to hongjoong. “you still haven’t told him?” huffing, you get the box of the harry potter series and showed him the missing part, pushing the book on his chest.
“oh! the prisoner of azkaban book!” he enlivens for a second before he faces you, the smile instantly drops. you get a glance at his dimple and you just need to.. raise your finger and.. poke.
san stops on what he’s doing, frozen. same as hongjoong, frozen but concealing his laugh as he stared at the both of you.
just a minute later have you realized that you indeed, poked his.. dimple.
fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..
your nose twitches, tightening your jaw, and presses on his cheek further.
“you! where the hell is the prisoner of azkaban?!” you say through gritted teeth, only craning your neck after a few seconds of processing your words.
“probably in jail?” san mutters, trying to lighten the atmosphere with his smile again and you thank the gods you haven’t taken your finger off his cheek as you felt his dimple slowly showing.
you clicked your tongue, and you could finally hear hongjoong laughing to his heart’s content. seeing your jaw dropped, hongjoong finally makes his way to detach you from the tense man.
“cut the man some slack, y/n,” he chuckles, “he’s packed,”
packed.. like? packed body?
“time, y/n, time.” hongjoong, as if reading your mind, smirked at you. “he borrowed it last time he visited, now that he moved here after a heartbreak, you’ll be able to get it soon,” he pats your arm, nodding at san. “right, san?”
san nods delightedly, shifting his eyes to you and hongjoong.
“yeah, and apparently he moved beside mine too,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes but can’t help feeling happy at the fact that you’ll be seeing san around more.
“that’s nice then! you’re friends with my friends here,” hongjoong pointed at you, “we should hang out sometime! all together!” hongjoong clapped, thrilled at the plans he had made himself.
“only if he gives me back the book,”
“i can give it to you later!” san beams, jumping on his place with a big, big smile.
“now, why don’t you guys head home for today?” hongjoong bites his lip to suppress his smile, pushing the both of you out of the library.
you glared at san and he instantly flinches, you had started to walk home.
“hey, uh,” san catches up with you, fiddling with his hands. “sorry about the book,”
you stopped on your tracks, squinting your eyes at him.
“you’re lucky you’re cute.” you hiss, craning your neck at him.
san immediately freezes and feels his cheeks warm, a small smile crawling up his lips.
at least i didn’t say you’re hot.
you thought, beating yourself inside.
“thanks.. i guess..” san muttered, looking down to hide his smile.
you chuckle, reaching your hand out.
“we haven’t properly introduced yet,” you smile, “i’m y/n.” san shakes your hand introducing himself back. “so.. a heartbreak?” you started walking again, san beside you.
“hongjoong’s such a chatterbox,” he sighs, then he glances at you, giving a small smile. “mutual breakup, that is,” he slowly nods, heaving a deep breath.
“ah.. sorry,” you quickly muttered, pressing your lips to a thin line.
“no need to, it’s just..” he tries to find words, “really nothing. we both felt like drifting apart and i think that’s completely normal!” he defended a pitch higher, making you jump.
“okay then, normal!” you assured, leaning back unconsciously.
“sorry..” he mumbles and you hum in response, a small laugh escaping your lips. “it’s been almost a year and i just found the company of my friends really enticing so when they asked me to move here, i didn’t hesitate,” he explains further, and you nod at him, pursing your lips.
silence engulfed the both of you again until you’ve arrived in your flats, stopping you. “do you want to go inside and have a drink? i’ll bring you the book,” he smiles, offering. “i mean, if you’re still uncomfortable i can just give you the book right now, right now!” his high voice made you burst into a fit of chuckles, and you could only smile at him.
“i would love a drink, san,” you nod.
he welcomes you with the biggest smile and a dimple, offering you to sit on the couch while you wait for him. you look around his flat, loving the warmth it emitted even if there are still unpacked boxes in the corner and the fact that he just moved in.
“i love it here,” before you could stop your running mouth, san had already stopped in front of you with your drinks.
“please, you’re welcome anytime.” san feels butterflies in his stomach, but he isn’t going to tell you that. at least, not yet.
it’s too early.
you didn’t know if he meant it platonically, but you could almost feel your heart beating out of your ribcage. you simply smiled, taking his offered drink.
“let me just get the book.. out,” he sighs, taking a box out of the corner and rummaging through others.
you peeked curiously, gasping yet once more, to see at least five boxes full of books.
“what.. the hell,” you mumble, letting your fingers trail over the piles and piles of books. “are these all yours?”
“yeah, though i haven’t read all of it,” he chuckles, “i just have a terrible hold of myself when buying books that get my interest so.. here we are,” he waves his hands in front of the boxes. “ah, let me show you something,” he drags you to a room, and if you think you’ve gasped enough for today, this was something more to gasp on.
“you.. have a whole ass library.. on your apartment..” you mumbled, letting your feet wander around as san watched you admirably, leaning on the doorsill with his arms crossed over his chest. there are already books on the shelf, the boxes in the living room with unpacked books long forgotten as if a spell was onto you the moment you have entered this room.
the instant san realized he’s been staring at you too much, he perked on his position and walked back to the living room, finding the prisoner of azkaban.
“here!” san holds the book and pushes himself up, only to stumble back after meeting your frail body being so close to him. after san left you in the room, you had caught a glimpse of him leaving so you followed him, not wanting to overuse his welcoming presence of letting you wander in his own house.
peeking over his shoulder, you watched him rummage through the boxes until he found it, not expecting him to jump hastily and bump in your body, making you tumble. san’s hands were faster and immediately took ahold of your waist, balancing you.
“i’m sorry!” he quickly removes his hands after you stand up, handing you the book.
“it’s okay, you practically saved me from banging on a sharp corner,” you giggled, pouting to point at the sharp edge of his coffee table. you flip to the pages of the book, getting your things. “since i already got what i want,” you faced him, “i should get going. i don’t want to disturb you too much,”
san was too preoccupied busy calming his heart with what just happened.
“sure,” he mumbles, walking you to your door with his hands tucked in his pockets. because if not, he’ll probably be fidgeting with it.
“thank you again, i’ll see you around san,” you smiled at him, and san almost swooned at the way his name flowed out of your lips.
“uh, y/n,” he calls out before you close your door,
“yeah?” you bite the insides of your cheek to stop your growing smile, looking at him expectantly.
“y’know..” san anxiously bites on his lower lip, “as you may have seen, i have tons and tons and tons,” he drags the last word, explaining it with his hands making you chuckle, “..of books and.. it was really nice meeting you.. and uh,”
is this your way of telling me hey, y/n, you can come whenever you want, san?” you smirked slyly, waiting for him to respond.
well, the only response you got is his wide eyes and red ears- and that was enough.
“yeah.. i mean.. yeah.. that.. yeah,” he stutters, looking back at you with puppy eyes.
“i’d love to be your company, san. that would be very nice,” anyone could sense you liked each other, the small smiles and the anxious fidgeting of fingers giving it away.
“even if it takes me forever to finish those books?” he raises his eyebrows, a smile finally settled in his face as his dimples showed again.
“even if it takes forever,” you much him, winking.
maybe it was early, too early.. but the both of you can’t help liking each other. is it what they call love at first sight?
you don’t know, but you were certain you did like the man the moment you closed your door, staring at the harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban on your hands, continuous chuckles coming out of your lips.
and san was certain he liked you too when he washed his face and looked at the mirror, his dimple faintly showing and reminiscing the incident awhile ago, in the library- making his dimple fully show, a light laugh bursting from within.
#choi san#san#ateez#ateez san#ateez choi san#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#ateez imagine#ateez scenarios#ateez scenario#choi san fluff#san fluff#choi san imagines#choi san imagine#choi san scenarios#choi san scenario#atz fluff#atz scenarios#atz scenario#atz imagines#atz imagine#ateez x reader#atz x reader#san x reader#choi san x reader
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23, 45, and 50 with piglin hybrid Techno and tiny avian hybrid Phil? ‘v‘ you don’t gotta do all or any of these! ALSO I WANNA SAY THAT I LOVE YOUR WRING SM ❤️💕💖💕❤️
Thank you so much, I'm happy you like my writings!!!! :DD
So sorry for the late answer, but know that I appreciate your ask so much
———
• "You're going to be okay, I promise"
• "Shhh, just sleep, you're safe"
• "No one is going to hurt you again"
Piglin hybrid Techno and Tiny avian hybrid Phil
Content warning: Calling a person as "It" and language
——————
A gunfire shot echoed.
"There it is!" A shout echoed, a man pointing towards high trees. A dark green shadow— No, not leaves— floating limpingly amongst the brown of the branches and trunks.
"Is there a net?!" another shout. Another man. Panting as they chase the tiny flying figure.
"The last net has been fired two shots ago!" the first one called out
"Fuck— It's a hybrid tiny, too" A huff, a big one. Two people in arms finally stopping, holding their knees in exhaustion. "Damn it, that'll sell so well"
They stopped.
But not the tiny, though.
The occasional sharp small branch sticking out, the leaves that's positioned unfortunately fit for a papercut, and the eventual large branch finally hitting the golden haired avian hybrid tiny in his head. The injuries came together, the no-longer-shiny black wings finally gave up, and the flying figure of a tiny avian hybrid fell down. Now stopping after the hunters has stopped.
ooo
Being a piglin hybrid has its perks, Techno thinks. The piglin on the nether wouldn't go exactly after you unprovoked, you can still live in the cold (not advised, by the way, it sucks in the cold), and you can adapt to the overworld just fine— well, excluding the townspeople avoiding you, at least.
Of course, the good also comes with the bad. The piglin back at home absolutely despises you(because you look 'too human' or whatever), the nether temperature eventually became absolutely unbearable, and..
"Oooh, gold" The lingering feeling of attraction to gold. Except this time, it's not gold.
But a golden-haired tiny.
Listen, Techno's not heartless, there's no way he'll abandon another living being in help, no matter how awkward it may be— imagine waking up to a giant piglin hybrid, if that isn't awkward Techno doesn't know what it is (No, it's absolutely not fear, what do you mean) — So Techno took the tiny in.
After leaving the nether dimension, Techno tried living in a tundra biome. But it didn't work for him— he's not used to the cold— So he tried to live in the forest. It's a decent place, he figured out he can grow crops for a living— trading is also a steady source of income in the overworld. But getting back on the topic— Techno lives in a cabin in the woods, and is currently carrying a tiny home. It's a questionable situation, but hey, it's the thought that counts right? (or however the overworld saying goes)
Techno inspected the unconscious tiny— He's still breathing, fortunately. Techno doesn't know how to feel if he picked up a tiny corpse— Several cuts are visible on the tiny's skin. It doesn't look that bad— excluding the large cut on his side and the practically broken right wing— M-hm, not that bad.
Step one, Washing your hands before cleaning the injury. It's a fairly-large wound for someone so small, and fortunately, the wound has stopped bleeding, so Techno shouldn't worry about that.
Next step, applying antibiotic. Techno's certain he has a bottle of antibiotics— yeah, he has one— an almost brand-new bottle of antibiotics, he's glad he bought one yesterday.
As soon as the antibiotic made contact with the tiny's wounds, though, the tiny shot up with a hiss of "Fuck—!"
。。。
Phil woke up when Techno was washing his hands.
He had heard a stream of water and several footsteps— he thought he fell unconscious near a river. It doesn't matter, he can get up later, he's too hurt for getting up.
Until the stinging pain emerged from his side.
"Fuck-!" Phil cried out, moving away from the supposed source of pain
That fumkign hurts. Phil doesn't know what happened, it may be a bee— but bees doesn't attack unprovoked, then, what?
With each second passing Phil's head pounded even more, forcing him to focus and unfocus on his surroundings. A Wooden floor— Polished wooden floor, not the usual tree bark footing he occasionally sees— Unfamiliar surroundings— No trees or the usual greens he sees everyday, no, it's a human furniture surroundings.
As if his mind is saving the worst for last, Phil's vision finally focuses on the giant figure in front of him. The figure of a giant piglin hybrid.
Instantly, Philza's mind clicked. Human— no— hybrid furniture surroundings, him being unconscious, the stinging pain on his sides— Fuck— The piglin was going to eat him.
"Fuck no—" Phil breathed out, scooting backwards. Unfortunately, it's futile, as he quickly reached the edge of the wooden table. Phil looked at the drop, and fumk, it's a fucking high drop— his- his wings are broken
"Uh—" The piglin hybrid called out. Phil's head turned to look at him— head still pounding too hard to focus on the piglin hybrid's expression. "You're... you're hurt." The piglin hybrid gave Phil a sad excuse of an explanation. No shit, sherlock.
"S-so?" Phil glared, trying so hard to not fall off the table— or should he? Is one wing enough to shield his fall..?
"I'm... I'm trying to treat your wounds..?" the piglin hybrid said. Another look from Phil and he saw a white bottle of whatever— it's suspicious "Look, I found you unconscious on the forest floor, I'm just trying to heal you"
Phil is not listening to the guy, still scanning the things on the giant piglin hybrid's hands. A white suspicious bottle, a clump of cotton possibly doused in the suspicious bottle's content, and a wide, white, suspicious rope(..?) On the other end of the table.
"I'm not going to hurt you." the sudden voice from the piglin hybrid startles Phil. Maybe it's because of the reassuring tone of the man, suddenly, Phil's mind starts to focus more "You're going to be okay, I promise"
With that, the giant lowered the things in his hands. First, the suspicious white bottle. "Antibiotics" it reads.
"It's for cleaning your wound— it stings, that's why you woke up— but it's not a bad thing" The piglin hybrid explained, noticing Phil's confused expression (Antibiotics sounds fuckinh suspicious) "And to apply the antibiotics, I used the cotton" He lowered the cotton near the 'Antibiotics' bottle— but not too close to Phil. "see, I'm not trying to hurt you"
"...and that rope?" Phil questions. He's convinced about the antibiotics, but not the weirdly-shaped rope
"...rope?" The piglin hybrid blinked, confused.
"That!" Phil pointed at the weirdly-shaped rope "That weirdly-shaped rope!"
"You've... never seen a bandage before..?"
"...what?"
"That's- that's a bandage— it's for keeping the wound clean and preventing it from opening up again" He explained, a hint of amusement behind his confusion. Okay. "Are you satisfied now?"
Maybe it's because of embarassment, maybe it's because of finally feeling convinced, but Phil nodded to the human's word.
The consequence of agreeing fucking hurts— Fuck, it hurts.
The antibiotics really does fucking sting.
"Fuck!" another shout, and Techno— Phil had learned his name in the middle of the stinging pain (Saying Piglin hybrid man is too long and well, rude)— Techno finally finished applying the antibiotic.
"Done." Techno said, tone light like he never stung Phil. "You can rest there, I think I still have spare cloths for you to sleep on"
"Wait, sleep?" Phil spoke up, bewildered. Sure, he's exhausted after all of the things happening today, but that doesn't mean he want to sleep in a human— wait, no, Hybrid— but still, a Giant's house. That's a death flag right there.
"Ya" Techno said, Another light answer. "your body need to rest to have the energy to heal. Also, the bandage will need to be changed"
"Sleep here?"
"Ya" Techno's response is light. So light, no care for Phil's bewildered tone as he stuffed the tools he used to treat Phil back to wherever it belongs.
"And you're not going to hurt me?" Phil asked. No way. He's a fucking giant.
"That just sounds abyssmal— I've just healed you" Techno said, his tone still light as he rummages around his furnitures, looking for something.
"So then.. what are you going to do?" Phil asked, staring at Techno as he stacked several cloths together (what the fuck is he doing..?)
"Sleep, probably— I was actually going to trade new seeds since new season is coming up, but then you happened sooo" Techno trailed off, concentrating. "Done. Here— you can sleep here" Techno's figure moved away to reveal what Phil assumed was a bed— It's actually just several cloths stacked together— but it's nice.
"You made a bed for me?" Phil asked, looking at the bed Techno just made
"Yeah— do you need help getting here?" Techno gestures towards Phil's stature— small and has a broken wing
Phil looked at where Techno is gesturing. "..yeah"
"Should— Should I just.. pick you up at the back of your clothes or...?" Techno asked. He was expecting Phil to elaborate on how to pick a tiny up without being rude— but Phil's lack of elaboration speaks volume.
It ended up with Phil asking for Techno to give him his hand for platforming— Which after Techno quickly replied with a "sure", Phil became very anxious about standing on a giant's hand— Fortunately, Techno didn't try to hurt him or anything (Maybe it's Phil who scratched him— Bird claws as feet and all) and Phil reached the bed.
It's a fairly-nice bed, In Phil's opinion. Because it is practically just a ton of cloths stacked together, it became a very comfy bed. So when Phil rested his body on it, his exhaustion and thought caught up to him.
It's a first time for Phil. Being inside a giant's house, and.. being this near a giant. He's restless— he can't fucking sleep— he shouldn't sleep. The possibility of the giant hurting him, the possibility of another giant barging into this house and catching Phil... He's scared.
"Shhh, just sleep, you're safe" a sudden voice from Techno startled him. Was Techno there the whole time? More than that, did Techno realized Phil's worry? "I'm not going to hurt you— Like I said. You're going to be okay," Techno said, taking a seat beside the cabinet Phil's bed is placed.
What is it? Maybe it's because Techno sounds so.. reassuring, but Phil's heart solidified at Techno's word.
"No one is going to hurt you again" was the last thing Phil heard from Techno before Phil falling asleep.
Maybe it's trust that made Phil believe in Techno.
———
The dialogue prompts are from here, send in some prompts! :D
Masterlist (If you're interested in my writings! :D)
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FOLLOW “DA RULES” GODDAMN IT! PornHub Censors me, PayPal banned me & our appliances are cursed and I can design better refrigerators than Samsung in my sleep
1. I shouldn’t have to tell you folks to FOLLOW THE FUCKING RULES
I DONT CARE HOW MUCH OF MY CONTENT YOU LIKE OR WHETHER YOU FOLLOW ME *IF YOU BREAK MY TERMS OF SERVICE, I WILL BAN YOU FROM STRAPPYSKINKS.COM AND ALL AFFILIATED PROPERTIES!*
I strongly recommend folks re-read my Terms of Service and obey them.
Followers upon following me are proactively scanned and a risk scoring modality is used.
Two followers today (both new within the last 24 hours) have been banned from all StrappysKinks properties.
One for violating rule 23 (no epileptiform images no flashers no strobic images, no hypno without a content warning / read more blocker) and the other for violations to rule 5 and 14 as well as promoting a ton of spam content. The user was posting links to outside porn tube websites involving people using illegal substances. If you are a “slam pig” or whatever, do not follow me, you will be reported to Tumblr and to federal authorities. I do not honor hard drug abusers, I have little respect (but some) for cannabis users. Even that is a drug that I have run out of respect for.
2. PornHub is fine with people abusing vaginal specula and other surgical instruments, shoving vegetables up their ass or vagina but put a little breathplay on there and they go ape shit mental.
Stupid enough it doesn’t mention anything about breathplay in the Terms of Service. I officially hate CensorshipHub. They’re a network of fools addicted to vanilla fucking sucking and apparently are okay with people abusing their gastric tract and possibly threatening a bowel perforation. Nevermind the intravaginal abuse. PornHub is a bad company. I will not do business with them.
3. PayPal should be a bit more up front when asking someone what kind of content they sell as a photographer, it should ask “Are you an adult media producer” and if the yes option is selected it should say “You may continue to use PayPal for personal payments, you may not receive payments as a business and so we are canceling your business account enrollment. You may re enroll after contacting our sales team for prior authorization. Until then your account can only be used to send and receive personal payments”
Instead of being up front they blind banned me and said I shall never do business with PayPal again. I have no problem with that because eBay dumped PayPal a while ago. This is more fallout from FOSTA SESTA and needs to stop.
FOSTA SESTA is literally costing peoples lives and their homes. Many people have gone homeless and countless people have committed suicide because without their income and without being able to be who they are people choose to kill themselves.
This was fun to wake up to *sarcasm
I woke up to our washing machine making sounds before I even went downstairs to do the laundry. At first I thought it was our furnace dying days before our home warranty is scheduled to kick in but instead our washers main drain line got completely clogged up, it also really smelled bad because there was standing water inside the machine. I had to clean it with a ton of bleach and I’m still not sure (I have to go check after I finish writing this) if its clean enough to do laundry in or if its functioning okay. Since I unclogged the main drain it hasn’t made any more sounds
If your washing machine makes sounds when you aren’t using it, it’s likely your drain pump running because there’s fluid building up. That’s the machine being smart and trying to prevent a flood from happening, but if the main drain is plugged up the machine can’t tell if the water is going anywhere so will keep going and going until the main drain sink or drain floods out. Luckily I caught ours probably minutes before a massive flood would have happened. Frequently check your drain lines and clean your machine fully according to its instruction manual at least monthly unless otherwise instructed by the operators manual.
I’m disappointed and amused at the same time. Our refrigerator last Saturday started shooting sparks and smoke inside of the freezer (NOT GOOD, NOT AMUSING) Lucky I was in the living room working on the computer and heard the loud grinding and banging sound of the fan in there over heating and sparking. There’s all sorts of soot and damage inside. Then last night I had a dream I designed a fridge.
You know whats sad Samsung...
When I can design a better refrigerator than any refrigerator I have ever seen in my life IN MY FUCKING SLEEP!
Yup, you heard it here first, I designed a refrigerator IN MY SLEEP.
It was very tall, a little less wide than a 27Cu Samsung but about a third taller. Because the manuals say "DO NOT STORE ITEMS ON TOP OF THE REFRIGERATOR" so I purposefully designed my units to be taller than most people can reach to physically discourage people from storing items on top of it and also made the top of the unit slightly bumpy, not enough to change its appearance but enough to make any item stored on top of the unit fall off.
It was glossy shiny white, like an iPod from the yesteryears of Apple when Apple actually knew how to make good looking equipment that felt awesome to touch. Now everything is just generic metal, still pretty good to the touch but rather "meh" on appearance. It had some features I have never seen in any refrigerator before.
1. In the refrigerator compartment at the top right was a slide out drawer with a latch on it, it opened at half length leaving the back of the opening shutter closed, the drawers within that drawer had egg shaped holders for up to 96 eggs and also slide out of the compartment. It took up the entire length of the refrigeration cavity and only took a small portion of the height.
2. The ice maker wasn't in the door, it was cleverly placed like the egg unit at the top of the freezer cavity with a water pipe directly off of the mains instead of using complex hoses and structures that could leak. The water dispenser was located directly below the egg holder and was also directly mains connected. The only complexity to the pipeline was a T junction on the exterior of the refrigerator on its backside that split the single water line into the two lines traveling to the freezer solenoid valve and to the refrigerator solenoid. The ice maker had two water pipes leading to jumbo cube trays that when full would simply shut off the system and blink a light on the front of the refrigerator "ICE FULL" the user would then empty the trays manually (a reduction of moving parts means an overall more reliable refrigerator) into a conveniently placed bin integral to the ice maker unit. The ice maker was a bit bulky in design but would probably never fail, the only fallible component to it would be the two water control solenoids, and if a tray breaks just buy a new regular ice tray because thats what they are! the hoses inside with the sprayers to fill the trays would likely never fail. And those looked to be user replaceable using a modular part kit.
3. The water dispenser, it like the ice maker used very standard components, instead of a small reservoir and a complex pipeline network it had a mains pipe leading directly into the filter unit before entering a very large 2 gallon dispensing jug. To access the water one would open the refrigerator and dispense their water like one would from a regular water pitcher dispenser jug (with the push button nozzle) again a very common standard part that could be user replaced if it aged out or failed. Eliminating the use of more moving parts from the machine.
4. The refrigerator was leak proof, even if the ice maker or water system were to catastrophically fail instead of filling with water and potentially damaging your floors or the machine its self there were draining features built into the refrigerator and freezer cavity. The entire unit is tilted back at a slight angle and the bottoms of the cavities are sloped toward the back. A pair of drainage pipes are in each cavity which lead to a third pipe, that would be routed to the basement utility sink or another available drain.
5. There were a minimal amount of buttons and controls on the unit. The unit was by design a fixed temperature finely tuned machine to refrigerate to 37F and freeze to 10F to do this elimination of all user controls was done. There were only four lights located on the exterior of the unit, the ICE FULL light, the REF ERROR light FRE ERROR light and the ELEC FAIL light. the unit had a small battery to allow it to continue to use its lighting board to let a user know that the electricity is out and the unit shouldn't be opened, REF ERROR and FRE ERROR are self explanatory, if you have a refrigerator or freezer error it's time to call the repair shop, probably means the cooling loop is damaged or an electronic module needs replacement. ICE FULL, well that's not a problem code, it just means it's time to empty the ice trays into the bin or you won't get new ice. Again elimination of extra moving parts and extraneous electronics and a minimization of variability, making it likely precision equipment capable of handling medical infusions and supplies of basic nature. (Got COVID vaccines that you need to regularly refrigerate or regularly freeze that don't need a super freezer but just need precise temperature storage? this refrigerator is suitable for them! Got insulin and antibiotics that require precise refrigeration? again, suitable. I have never seen a medical refrigerator / freezer in the consumer market. but I made one exist IN MY FUCKING SLEEP)
6. Doors, they are the most fallible part on the refrigerator but also the most elegant and good feeling to use, like opening a car the door handles move with your hand slightly just to give you a tactile motion that you are indeed unlatching and opening a locking latch refrigerator (If someone gets inside the unit there's a zero force latch release lever inside. There is also on both interiors of the door signage instructing if entrapment occurs to kick the door with your feet after using the unlatch lever to open them) The doors have braking stoppers on them, while they can be adjusted to close on their own, they are from the factory adjusted to simply brake and stop opening after reaching a 90 degree open state. This protects people from injury and protects the unit from potentially tipping over if the doors are opened forcefully. If one must open the doors beyond 90 degrees (which there is no necessity as they are designed if someone needs to remove a full width item from the interior they must take everything out of the doors and remove the shelves from the door area affected by the interior part needing removal) but if one so desires they must disconnect the door closer assembly. If someone desires the door closer assembly has a mechanical timer, it can be set to 15 seconds or 30 seconds. If after the set time opening pressure is not present on the door (such as your foot or hand holding it open) the door will slowly close on its own (and I mean SLOWLY, it will close in about two minutes time.) the door closer force is relatively weak and designed to only be a backup mechanism if you forget to shut the doors yourself. this eliminates the need for often obnoxious door alarms because you *cant* leave the doors open for more than two minutes without the door closer starting to apply closing force, unless you keep opening pressure on the door.
7. The shelves, instead of sliding into preset rails the shelves are permanently fixed to heavy steel vertical rails. The shelves themselves are made of a thick heavy plastic that is far less breakable than glass. Each shelf is reenforced with a steel metal core. The shiny plastic overlay is to make the interior appearance uniform with the outside, clean and sterile looking. The shelves can be removed by disengaging the front side of the two main rail assemblies after taking everything out of the refrigerator or freezer as doing so will cause all of the shelves to slowly sag and then lower to the bottom of the unit for removal. When the rails are all properly engaged the shelves can be locked in at any position using a pawl and clutch configuration. If you're only removing one shelf you have to remove and readjust all of them, cleaning the shelves is best done with them in the unit by removing items from the soiled shelf and then cleaning it with glass or mild household cleaner.Congratulations Samsung, I managed to design a refrigerator better than any model you have created... IN MY FUCKING SLEEP!
Feel free to call me Samsung, I dreamed it, you build it!
SOOO YEAH... THATS BEEN MY WEEK SO FAR FOLKS.
I’ll hopefully have a new session on My Flickr tonight. I don’t have a place for my videos for the time being so for now nobody can access more than two minute clips from my Twitter. Soon (and I mean in a few months type of soon) I will have an alternative host set up.
#general update#my life#my photos#home appliances#appliance repairs#appliances are cursed#I can make better refrigerators than you Samsung#I make refrigerators in my sleep
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You didn't have to get a parent to sign a permission slip to read those books? Where did you go to school? I read the kite runner in and we had to get slips signed if there was any inappropriate or violent content in any book. I wasn't in a rich schooler either but I don't know how widespread my experience is.
wow that sounds much more sensible.
to be fair, i was in an IB program, which if you've never heard of it, is an international highschool program (like, it was a thing that was offered in my low-income highschool, it’s not some private school thing) that gives u college credit for specific classes and supposedly makes kids well-rounded and more knowledgeable about the world or whatever, but in practice was just basically regular classes but with a lot of really hard finals and midterms and required tons of extracurricular shit and was filled with a lot of really toxic work ethic like "lol 60% of you will drop out because you're too WEAK to handle our obscene workload and we're going to mock you for it!"
they probably thought not giving us any warnings for fucked up shit was some sort of test of character, and they weren't going to "baby" us or some horseshit.
#i was a hashtag gifted kid#it was....so extremely toxic on every level and i do NOT have a high opinion of higher-level classes#they dont actually teach you critical thinking or anything and just put weird expectations on kids#i will NOT be saying where i went to school but it wasnt a good school#like i said it was low-income and it was common knowledge that principals only stayed for a few years before leaving for greener pastures#the IB program was about the only thing it had that looked attractive to parents
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Life Changes Part 6 || Paul Bissonnette
Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all.
Authors Note: Splitting this next segment up into at least two parts because otherwise, it will be insanely long (this part contains 2 of at least 6 events that I have in mind for this short span of time). I’d love to know what you think of this chapter, especially considering that Paul is very much present. Also please feel free to send me any songs that you think I should add to the series playlist.
Requested: [ ] yes [x] no Warnings: cursing. Word Count: 2,865+ text convos
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“True life is lived when tiny changes occur.”
From the moment I’d been hired by the podcast, I’d been working on putting together all of the details for a Vegas trip for the NHL awards. Now, after months of hard work, everything was set for the guys to spend a week in Vegas. Our title sponsor for the trip was one of the many hotel-casinos who had reserved a 4 bedroom suite for the podcast hosts as well as a few standard rooms for the camera and production guys. Additionally, all of the media passes for the event were ready to go and I knew the boys had lined up quite a few guests. With everything set and the awards only a week away I was hoping to maybe be able to take a mini-vacation myself at home while they partied it up and got tons of content to last through the summer.
It had been maybe an hour from when I sent the boys an email with all of the important details for the trip when my phone buzzed with an incoming text from Paul.
______
So, because I lacked all capability to tell Paul Bissonnette ‘no’ when he asked me to do something, I was currently pulling my suitcase through the Vegas airport at almost midnight the night before the awards. Checking my phone I saw that Paul had texted me one message with the room number and which room in the suite was ours as well as another saying that the rest of the boys had gone out but that he’d be there when I got in. I had previously told him not to wait up for me and had even fought with him when he wanted to come to pick me up. It was completely ridiculous for him to even think about taking an Uber to the airport just to uber back to the hotel.
Grabbing a cab, it wasn’t long before I had arrived at the hotel and after stopping at the front desk for a key to the room and to make sure the boys hadn’t had any problems with the reservations, I took the elevator upstairs and let myself into a dark and silent suite. Part of me had expected Paul to be up watching tv or something but it was too quiet for that. He’d said that we were staying in the first room on the right and so I quietly headed over, pausing in the doorway when my eyes caught sight of him.
The only light in the room was coming from the open blinds letting in the city lights and Paul was sprawled out on the bed on his stomach fast asleep. The way the light and shadows highlighted the muscles of his naked back made my body react involuntarily and I took a deep breath trying not to gasp. Reminding myself that this was definitely just the pregnancy hormones getting the best of me, I slipped into the room and closed the door to the living room behind me.
As quietly as I could, I hung my dress up in the wardrobe and got my pajamas and things for bed out of my suitcase before sneaking into the bathroom to get ready to go to sleep. It was beyond late and with the time change, I was exhausted. Paul was still taking up most of the bed when I stepped out of the bathroom and flipped off the light, using the flashlight on my phone to guide me across the room to close the curtains and then to the edge of the bed. Perched on what little bed was not occupied by a large man, I gently reached out and rubbed my hand over his back trying to stir him just enough that he’d roll over and make room. Getting no reaction I sighed.
“Paul...are you actually gonna share the bed like you promised or am I stuck sleeping on the couch tonight?” I whispered. Rubbing his back once more I felt his muscles twitch and suddenly his body was moving, arm reaching out to take my hand and pull me into him. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I settled into his embrace, his solid chest pressed into my back. As his body shifted to surround me further, the hand that had grabbed mine moved to drape over my waist.
We’d snuggled like this before, but back then I didn’t have a 21-week baby bump protruding from my front. It was clear that in his sleepy state he expected what he was used to before because the moment his arm didn’t drape the way he expected he froze against me. A change in his breathing signaled that he was now actually awake and his hand gently caressed my stomach for a moment.
“Holy shit Leigh…” His sleep laden voice murmured from behind me. “You...that’s...I didn’t...wow.” Shaking my head at him a little I rolled onto my back so that I could look over at him. As I shifted, Paul reached over to tap the bedside light on, allowing us to actually see each other.
“It’s called a baby bump Paul...this is kinda what happens when you’re pregnant and the baby starts to get bigger. There’s only so much space in there for the baby to grow otherwise.” His gaze was dark and lazy as our eyes met before he swept a look up and down my body taking in the changes that he’d missed due to living on separate sides of the country.
“I knew that…” He declared, glaring at me softly. “I just...I don’t know. I haven’t seen you in a few months and I don’t know why but I wasn’t expecting you to be showing. Not like this.” I knew he wasn’t implying that I was fat or anything, just that his brain hadn’t actually processed the changes that my body would undergo during pregnancy.
“Not so easy to hide anymore huh?” I questioned and he nodded but his eyes hadn’t left my stomach, nor had his hand.
“Fuck...I...are you okay with me touching?” He asked at least being conscious enough to know that women frequently complained about people touching their bellies. It was clear that he wanted to touch and explore. To make the connection between the baby that we so frequently talked about and how said baby currently existed inside me. Smiling over at him I nodded, though he wasn’t looking and therefore didn’t see it.
“Go for it,” I assured him. “You are one of the few people I think I can put on my approved bump touch list.” I teased. Part of me had at least expected him to crack a smile at that but I don’t think he was paying attention to my words since the second I gave him permission to touch.
The way his strong fingers grazed over my belly so gently caused a shiver to run up my spine and I just watched him for a moment before closing my eyes and relaxing. For a few minutes, he just caressed and pressed his palm to my stomach before his fingers dipped down to the edge of my shirt. Peeking up at him I could see the adoration in his eyes as he looked at the way my body had adapted to growing the little boy or girl inside of me. I felt blessed to know that he already loved this baby so much even though he had no real reason to and it made me want to give him as much as I could so far as letting him bond with the baby went.
“Here…” I breathed, rolling just slightly to adjust my shirt so that it rested just under my breasts, exposing the skin of my stomach to him, stretch marks and all. I knew that touching through clothes was one thing but letting him see the way that my skin had stretched, and letting him touch without that barrier in the way was something else entirely.
Paul’s hand quickly found its way back to the bump and when he looked up at me again his eyes were moist with tears. Meeting his gaze with concern, I reached over to brush my thumb against his cheek.
“Sorry.” He mumbled, his body leaning into my touch as much as I had his earlier. “I just...this is incredible. I...I didn’t expect that this would affect me so much.” It was totally understandable for him to have that reaction and I did my best to communicate that to him without words. My own voice was stuck in my throat seeing him get emotional over something that I’d personally gotten used to because it was my new normal. “You...I hope you know that you were beautiful before...but you’re absolutely gorgeous like this. Pregnancy suits you.” The intent behind his words confused me but he was so sure of them that I couldn’t help the flush that came over my entire body. Catching my breath after a moment I glanced over at the alarm clock beside the bed.
“So...can we go to sleep now...because it’s the middle of the night back home and being pregnant is exhausting.” My words seemed to snap Paul out of his trance.
“Fuck...of course. I...goodnight Leigh.” His words were spoken with a soft kiss to my temple, but before I could attempt to roll over, Paul had shifted, leaning over me. “Goodnight dustbunny.” He added and for a split second his lips were pressed against my stomach before he was laying back down beside me, a sheepish look on his face. “Didn’t want baby to feel left out.” He mumbled before switching the light back off so that we could all get some sleep.
Tucked back against his chest, I was nearly off to dreamland when I heard him whisper softly into the room. “I’m here for whatever you and your mama need dustbunny...that’s a promise.”
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When I woke the next morning, Paul was still passed out beside me. Gingerly, I slid out of his arms needing first to use the bathroom and then to get some food before the baby decided to protest. After taking care of my bladder needs and slipping on a pair of shorts, I quietly opened the door to the living room wondering if the boys had any food in the kitchen or if they’d eaten out for every single meal since arriving in Vegas.
Padding softly through the living room around to the little kitchen in the suite, I could hear RA and Grinnell talking softly from over by the patio doors. When I arrived in the kitchen I found a couple of small boxes of cereal as well as a small bottle of milk in the minifridge. Pouring myself a bowl of cereal, I rubbed the remaining sleep from my eyes before moving back to lean against the counter dividing the kitchen and living space while I ate. It was only then that I addressed the crew’s oldest host and our production manager by saying good morning.
Both quickly returned my greeting but didn’t look over at me right away. However, upon finishing their conversation, they turned to me and it was comical to see the double-take that Mikey did when his eyes saw me.
“What the fuck is that?” He asked only to be scolded by RA murmuring a ‘dude…’ in his direction. Swallowing the bite of cereal I’d put into my mouth I started laughing at how thrown these two grown men seemed at the sight of a pregnant woman.
“Um...surprise?” I stated, trying to downplay things in order to not generate a large reaction.
“Why didn’t Biz fucking tell us he’s gonna be a dad?” Mikey exclaimed, visibly getting worked up and speaking without really thinking about his words. Again RA tried to get him to shut up for a minute but he continued to rant for a moment about how ‘this was a big deal’ and ‘since when did Biz keep secrets like this….’
“Michael Grinnell...will you shut up for a minute?” I declared, setting my now empty bowl down on the counter. “Biz didn’t tell you that he’s gonna be a dad because he’s not…” I immediately motioned for him to let me continue but before I could, a voice sounded from my left.
“How far along do you think she is dumbass?” Ryan Whitney chirped as he made his way into the kitchen for his own breakfast. His lack of reaction to what he’d just walked into caught me off guard for a moment before I turned to look at him.
“How long have you known?” I asked accusatorily. He at least had the courtesy to look guilty as he mumbled that I probably already knew the answer to that. Carding my fingers through my hair, I sighed and shook my head. “You’ve known as long as Paul has…” I was slightly annoyed by that and it clearly showed on my face causing Whit to backpedal.
“I didn’t know know…” He explained. “Yes...Biz texted me asking if you being sick the way you were was normal and the suspicion was kind of unspoken. He never actually told me that you were though...it was just pretty obvious when the two of you posted scenic pictures when I knew he was taking you to the doctors’. If it was a bug you would have been in bed resting, long drive implies a distraction and it wasn’t hard to figure out from that, that his suspicions had been right.” I couldn’t really be angry about the fact that he’d deduced it based on information obtained before anyone knew for certain that I was pregnant. “Plus...Biz has been different the past few months and it’s pretty obvious why…” He added, gesturing toward my stomach.
“So….if Biz isn’t the dad…” Mikey jumped back into the conversation, his expression suggesting that he’d been thinking a little too hard about all of this. Suddenly his eyes went wide. “Oh...shit.” He murmured like it had all hit him at once. Needing to take control of the situation back I placed a hand on my stomach, taking a deep breath.
“Yes. I’m pregnant. No, we’re not talking about the whole paternity situation. Yes, Paul and evidently Whit have known for a few months. I didn’t tell my parents until last month and I’m not ready to go fully public with an announcement yet which is why I hadn’t said anything. Now, if we can just move on...that would be wonderful.”
Thankfully Whit was able to distract RA and Grinnell with a discussion of setting up for the interviews they were recording before the awards tonight and I was able to slip back to the bedroom, suddenly feeling like I needed a nap even though I’d just woke up.
I’d been staring out the window, trying to clear my mind and decide what I wanted to do until I had to start getting ready when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist and I was pulled back into a firm chest.
“You okay?” Paul asked, his fingers once again rubbing gentle circles over the expanse of my stomach. Leaning into him I nodded and just focused on his touch and soothing presence.
“The boys know.” I eventually whispered and I could feel him chuckle softly.
“I mean...I kind of figured...it only takes one look at you like this.” Feeling his lips press against my hair I sighed. “Plus I could hear Grinnell freaking out. Are you okay with the cat being out of the bag so to speak?” Shrugging I sighed but didn’t say anything. I kind of had to be okay, though it did again bring the fear of the world finding out tonight on national tv to the front of my mind. I could only pray that the dress I’d found would do a sufficient job of hiding my growing stomach in the way that a pair of shorts and a clingy tank top couldn’t.
Spinning me around Paul pulled me into a hug. We stood like that for a few minutes before there was a knock on the bedroom door with RA calling out that Paul needed to get his ass into gear so they could get started. When he pulled back reluctantly, he kissed the top of my head.
“I’ll be fine...go,” I assured him. “Dustbunny and I are just gonna lay back down for a little while. I’ll set an alarm to wake me in a couple hours so I can start getting ready for tonight.”
With one more caress of my bump, Paul retreated to the living room to work and I slipped back into bed, pulling his pillow from his side of the bed to cuddle. With sounds of laughter coming from the next room I quickly drifted off to sleep, hoping that I would wake up more excited for the awards than I currently felt.
No Social Media for this Chapter.
#paul bissonnette#paul bissonnette imagine#Arizona coyotes#arizona coyotes imagine#former player#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#hockey imagines#hockey imagine#014.1#gif courtesy of dougiesflow
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she isn’t perfect, but she tries. { EXECUTION...?: OLIVIA WILSON }
CONTENT WARNING: EXPLOSIONS
"OLIVIA IS THE MASTERMIND OF THE NG CODE GAME!"
No… She’s not. It doesn’t make sense for her to be the mastermind. She’s spent all her time with Percy, making sure that he was okay. Making sure that nothing happened to him, because she wanted to stay alive. She looks towards her peers, all as confused as she is - looking at her in horror, confusion, anger.
“Bullshit. You know that’s bullshit, Willie!” Olivia shouts, but the rat doesn’t listen.
Instead, he laughs, tormenting her. “Oh, but it is! The pink rabbit, the paint, even the photo Amelia found! You’re in that picture- aren’t you? You were in class 65. You were in the drama club. All the clues point to YOU, OLIVIA!”
As Willie laughs, Olivia shakes her head- stomping her foot down to the floor. “I’m being framed!!” She cries- but Willie laughs harder. She steps back from her podium, breath hitched, as Willie wastes no time in pulling out a mallet out of seemingly nowhere (seriously--where does he get this stuff? To be a fuckin’ toon…) and slams it down onto the button that appears in front of him. Again- seemingly, out of nowhere. She is not going to die here.
As Willie slams his mallet down onto the button, Olivia hears the sounds of chains rushing past Willie and coming straight for her. She keeps her eyes on them, frowning - standing her ground, as she uses the back of her hand to punch the chains away from her. Ouch, she thinks to herself, but doesn’t let it get to her. She keeps her focus, as she hears more chains coming straight for her. She feels one touch her ankle, and quickly - Olivia kicks it off. She jumps up onto her podium, fighting off the incoming chains attempting to drag her into a death she doesn’t deserve to be a part of.
She jumps over chains, all coming at her, fighting off chains that threaten to wrap around her wrists, dashing around the trial room in an attempt to throw Willie off as he continues to throw chain, after chain, after chain at her. A small grin forms on her face, as she easily deflects every chain thrown towards her. Her hands hurt, but she still has a ton of fight left in her--
… That is, until she feels something clamp down around her neck, and she hears the click! of a choker locking itself into place around her neck. Olivia’s eyes widen- she just simply did not hear the sound of a chain wrapping itself around her neck until it was too late. She reaches her hands up, grasping the choker shoved around her neck and tries to pry it from her neck, desperately trying to open it--
Until she feels a harsh pull from behind that tugs her away and up off the ground. With a hand clasping the choker, Olivia instinctively reaches her hand towards Percy, and just before she’s pulling into an execution, shouts:
”PERCY!”
She doesn’t have enough time to call out for help, as she’s pulled into her untimely execution - and finds herself thrown into an oddly familiar apartment. The chain around her neck comes loose as it throws her into the apartment, throwing her at the wall roughly. She squeaks, whimpering quietly in pain as she forces herself to sit up, and takes a look at the room she was thrown into.
Her old childhood home - back when she lived in America. Where her, and her family grew up in - before Olivia received an invitation to join Hopes Peak. Not only that, but Olivia was no longer wearing her signature green dress and black heels that she was wearing previously. Instead, Olivia donned the loose fitting dress she wore as Miss Lilly, that dress that gave her enough room to move freely as she ran. Her vision tinted with a light shade of pink, Olivia looks around her apartment.
Everything looks to be the same.
The cold material of the kitchen’s island was the same. The feeling of her couch, when she runs her fingertips across it, feels the same.
Everything is the same, yet, nothing feels right. This is all but an illusion to her, is it not? That’s what she assumed about these executions in the first place. Everything was fake, people were brought back to a place where Willie knows they would be most vulnerable.
It just sucks for her that of all places, it’s her childhood home back in America.
She doesn’t have much time to reminisce, however - as she feels the ground below her shake, and a loud BOOM! from right above her. Instinctively, Olivia covers her ears, quickly securing her balance so that she doesn’t fall over. She takes a step back, as slowly - bits and pieces of the ceiling above her start to fall to her feet, dirtying the familiar furniture surrounding her. Of course if Willie were to kill her himself, he’d do it with explosions, of all fucking things.
The one thing that could kill her, pre-her having her mutated gene taken away from her.
Another explosion goes off, and more bits and pieces of her ceiling start to collapse. She has no time to think, very little time to escape - so she runs to her door. She attempts to open it, only to realize that it won’t. She jiggles the door handle, trying to pry the door open as fast and hard as she can - but, nothing.
If she stays here any longer, she’ll be crushed to death. Turning to look over her shoulder, Olivia bites down on her tongue, and notices the open window - beckoning for her to run towards it.
So she does.
Running as fast as she can, Olivia dashes towards the open window and jumps out of it. If she remembers correctly, there was a building directly next to her apartment that she could land on. It was a bit ways down, but it was better than nothing. So she positions herself, as she falls, to land on the rooftop of the building below her. She had done this plenty of times by now, and knew exactly how to land so she wouldn’t severely injure herself. But as she gets closer, and closer towards the ground- the sound of an explosion goes off behind her.
The apartment building she had grown up in all her life-- blown to bits and pieces. The explosion is enough to send her forward, and she misses her footing when landing. Rather than making a graceful landing, Olivia stumbles forward and falls flat on her face, screaming out in pain as she twists her ankle.
But she doesn’t have time to react.
The building she lands on shakes - an indication to her that another explosion is going to happen.
She has to run.
Get out of here.
So she gets up, her pace considerably slowed down. There’s another building just in her line of sight. She has to get to it.
She runs, unable to hold back to pained cry as she steps on her twisted ankle. The other building isn’t too far away from her, now. She jumps onto it, being careful to land on her non-injured foot - right as the building she just jumps from follows the same fate as her childhood apartment: Exploding, sending bits and pieces of debris everywhere, sending Olivia forward a bit.
She again falls, but gets back up.
Pieces of debris hit her, on the back of her head - her back, her arms, leaving scratches and freshly made wounds that cause her to bleed. She’s hurt, but she doesn’t give up. She can’t.
She’s not the mastermind. She can’t die here.
Olivia makes the run for the next building over, her pace considerable getting a lot less faster than she was previously. She can feel blood running down her legs, her arms - her forehead, but she jumps to the next building.
The same as before.
The building explodes - she’s pushed forward, and new, sharper pieces of debris hit the back of Olivia. They’re larger pieces this time, however, and for a moment, Olivia can’t get up.
It just hurts too much. But she tries.
She’s able to.
She runs, and yet another explosion happens.
This time, however- it happens right as she leaps off. The explosion catches Olivia inside of it, completely messing up her footing. Rather than being able to land clumsily onto the building like she wanted, Olivia completely misses the building--
and she falls, several stories high, to the ground.
Olivia’s eyes widen, as she looks over her shoulder, the ground getting ever so closer to her. She sees a sharp piece of debris sticking up, and she knows if she lands on it, all it will do is pierce through her torso and kill her instantly. She tries and grasps for nearby things to catch herself, to stop herself from falling - but nothing sticks out to her. All she hears is the sounds of explosions, and--
”STOP!”
A voice calls out. A familiar one, at that. Olivia tries to look for the sound of the voice- but can’t seem to find it. But the next thing she knows is she feels someone jump into her, catching her in their arms - and brings her down to safety. The sounds of explosions are all but distant to her, now - and the adrenaline pulsing through Olivia’s veins seem to stop. All she feels is pain, but what she sees when she looks up to see her savior, she blinks. The white, long hair is the first thing she notices - as well as the tears now streaming down the person’s face.
The mask that covers her eyes focuses on the woman’s face. The mask- unknown to most, is integrated with technology that tells her when something is a threat. The mask, prior to her falling, was going off like crazy - highlighting over buildings and saying that they were a threat. But she didn’t need a mask to tell her that.
The mask, however - focuses on her savior’s face. The face of a person she’s come to recognize as a best friend.
THREAT DETECTED.
“...Amelia…?” Olivia’s voice is weak, pained.
“Are...are you the mastermind…?”
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Extra Time
Author’s Notes | Hijacked scenario from @honestsycrets - I have to say I thought it was PERFECT to have Hvitserk as a tattoo artist! Amazing idea, babe! Gonna borrow it if you don't mind, but all credits to you! It kinda came up a little different of what I was planning hahaha Hope you like it, dear babe! Pairing | Hvitserk x Reader Info | Modern AU, Tattooer! Hvitserk, requested by @x-valhalla for 5CW5 Words | 2093 ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, SMUT included, Daddy kink, explicit content, cursing, mentions of pain and needles. +18
You couldn't determine how long were you working on that studio, but it was long enough for you to feel like part of the furniture. Everyone that ever had marked the skin with a drawing from Hvitserk's, knew you. That's a fact, Jack. Period.
Sometimes you guessed yourself if you shouldn't change your birth certificate and permanently call yourself...
"Kitten, have you seen my keys?"
There was your boss, always missing something, looking all over the place after the keys of his bike probably to his older brother who was carelessly smoking at the door of the studio - as if the whole place hasn't the smell of Hvitserk's favorite brand of cigarettes all over the air, mixing with the air wick.
"Over the center table, near the outdated newspaper," you oriented, pointing it with the small nail file you were using to take off a sharp corner of your nail while waiting for the next incoming call, message or client.
Hvitserk found the keys and smiled, throwing them up to catch them as they were falling.
"What would be of me without you, kitten? Uh?" he asked, playfully.
And you smiled back, winking at him.
"Your life would be a mess, daddy."
"Yeah, daddy's life would be a mess without you, little girl."
That kinky play in between the two of you was always causing Ubbe's blues to become darker with lust. His older brother liked to see...
And you kinda liked to show, so...
Hvitserk's fingers touched your chin and he softly caressed your lips with his thumb, smiling at you.
"Tonight, I'm free for that work you wanted me to do for you, kitten. I made you a beautiful drawing. It's gonna be awesome in your pretty silky skin."
You smiled.
You were asking Hvitserk to fill your ribs with something for months! Finally, he had the time to work on your new tattoo! And you loved the way he worked with you, always tender and sweet.
The first time you two got laid started exactly like that...
"It's gonna be amazing. I'm sure it will!" you answered, watching him throwing his keys to Ubbe and smile at his brother.
"Take Ivar with you. I'll close earlier today to work on my kitten".
Ubbe giggled.
He knew exactly what kind of work Hvitserk was thinking about doing to you.
You finished organizing your working space and all the stuff at the reception while he was preparing his studio for your tattoo. When some music started to play, you smiled. Hvitserk liked to work with music to inspire. He was really on a good day and it could only mean your tattoo would be perfect in the end. A piece of art.
You finished your stuff and went into the studio, seeing Hvitserk messing with his ink machine, focused. He was so beautiful when focused like that... And you loved the sight of his body shirtless, tattoos showing the beautiful Viking motives he liked.
You remembered you asked one of these and there it was: a beautiful Nordic pattern with all those complicated knots and curves, resembling the bow of a Viking boat or one of their patterns you loved to stare for hours.
You came closer, picking up the drawing from his table, admiring it while he was finishing with the needles of the machine. Hvitserk smiled at you, coming from behind your body to speak near your ear, his eyes looking at the drawing from upon your shoulder.
"Did you like it, kitten?" he asked, kissing the crook of your shoulder. "It's gonna be beautiful in your body."
His nose nuzzled on your neck and you sighed, both of admiration and because of the shivers that gesture always would make run down through your spine.
"It's gorgeous. I love it, daddy."
"Then take your shirt off and show me this pretty body of yours, kitten. Daddy wants to work," he said, smiling.
You slowly took your shirt off, revealing one of those lacy bras he liked so much to see you wearing, causing him to hiss when you slowly moved your fingers through the piece, finding the clasp and clicking it open.
You bit your lower lip and you knew you were taunting him, but it was funny to see the way his eyes could change into pure lust whenever you wanted. You liked the sensation of power you had over his body.
"Bad, bad kitten... Teasing daddy like this, tsk, tsk," he joked. "I need to teach you good manners. Come, straddle the chair as if it was daddy's lap, ok?" he said, patting the chair for you to come.
And you did as he said, mounting the chair and sighing when supporting your chin at the right place, relaxing.
Hvitserk took a moment to observe your beautiful body in that position. Tons of forms to please you and have pleasure from you that way flooded his mind for an instant.
You knew he had lots of women. But you were his favorite. His baby girl, the voice he loved to hear moaning his name and filling his room, his studio, his car, the bathroom, wherever he could get your body shaking in pleasure for him.
"Will it hurt, daddy?"
Your voice cut his thoughts and Hvitserk smiled, caressing your nose before starting to prepare your skin for the transfer.
"Nothing daddy can't make you forget later, sweetheart, now close your eyes and let daddy work."
You closed your eyes. That process was something you had made before, so you already knew the touches of his hands, feeling like caresses when he was transferring the drawing to your skin, or the addictive pain of his needles on your skin, moving, covering the drawing and turning it into a permanent mark of his passage on your body.
You liked it.
You couldn't pretend the sound of that machine, mixing with the Arctic Monkeys beating on his sound boxes, filling the room with the bass of "Do you wanna know?", wasn't your favorite sound in the world. Sometimes you could even sleep with the beat and the warm sensation of Hvitserk's gloved hands touching your skin.
And it was exactly what happened this time: you fell asleep while he was working, waking up with his hands sliding ungloved through your body.
His warm fingertips drawing patterns on your naked back and the burning sensation of the recent tattoo on your ribs woke you up with a moan that got Hvitserk harder than your pretty sight was already having.
You felt his body against your back and his kisses on the skin of your shoulder.
"It's ready... do you wanna see it, kitten?" he mumbled in between the kisses and you nodded, causing him to smile against your neck. "Sweet sleepy kitty."
Hvitserk pulled away slowly, taking his warmth away just to pick up the mirror to show you his beautiful work colored on your skin. The perfect lines and traces in a beautiful composition bonding you to him forever: now, more than just his work on your skin, you had a pattern like his, a Viking drawing like the ones he had in his own body. You smiled.
"It's beautiful, daddy... I love it!" you said, looking at the tattoo, tempted to touch, but you already knew it would take a while until you were able to slide your fingers through the traces.
"I love it too," Hvitserk said, putting away the mirror to come back near you, slowly turning you to sit correctly in his chair, looking at him. "I love your skin, kitten. I wish I could be here, touching and working on my favorite canvas forever. You're my favorite one, ya know that, right?"
His fingers sliding through your body, slowly, shivering every single piece of your body he could touch.
"Yes..." you meowed and he smiled, almost giggling.
There it was the reason why he started calling you kitten.
His fingers slid down to your thighs and he softly opened your knees to different directions, revealing the pretty lacy panties you were using under your skirt, lifting one of his hands to rub over it with his index, getting some more meows from you.
"Daddy will make you forget about the pain now, ok, sweet kitten?" he mumbled.
His index invading your panties slowly placing it aside, the way you knew he liked to do, fingering your folds, causing you to push your hips towards his hand, eagerly.
"Yas... please..." you begged.
Hvitserk giggled this time.
"Such a good girl... Keeping everything in order for me, finding my lost items, organizing my whole life, and not complaining of your extra time in here, working for me... I couldn't have found a better kitten for my studio. Now it's time to be a good boss and pay your extra time of today, right, kitten? Close your eyes, love."
You knew what was to come, but yet, it surprised you when his fingers were replaced by his thirsty tongue exploring your folds, turning you into a wet mess in the middle of your legs.
A moaning mess over his chair.
Just like he liked the most.
You were perfect to organize Hvitserk's life. He was the one to make you a mess.
The two of you were perfect for each other and you knew that every time he was able to get you cumming in his tongue faster than anyone else in your life.
"Come here, kitten," he said, eagerly getting you up to replace you at the chair, making you straddle his lap.
Your skirt laying on his body, covering the two of you from his sight while his fingers were holding your panties aside for his other hand to guide his hardness into your throbbing channel.
"So fucking wet, my sweet little girl," he grunted and you moaned back, moving your hips against him. His fingers lifting your skirt to look at his cock vanishing into your body as if the sex the two of you were sharing was a dirty secret hidden under the innocence that pink piece of cloth. "Such a good girl! Dance on daddy's cock, babe. Fuck!"
You loved the noises of that chair under the two of you, or the feeling of Hvitserk's heavy hands gripping your hips tight, pulling you down on his hardness causing the muscles of his arms to be tense under your fingers. Your pretty pink nails digging on his shoulders, marking his skin that way that would remember him of you in his matinal bath of tomorrow.
"Thinking dirty things, kitten? Shit... You got tighter!" he growled, and the sound of his voice so filled with delight caused you to feel even more aroused.
So, you tightened your rings around his cock, feeling his grip tighter when he surrounded your waist with one of his arms. The other hand embracing your throat, pulling you closer to mash his lips against yours in a kiss full of desire.
The sound of his hips, slapping against you, mixed with the sound of the chair under your bodies, was the last thing you heard before his grip on your neck became deliciously tighter and he erupted into your depths, coating your walls with his seed, growling that sexy way you loved to hear while cumming around his cock.
The perfect way to finish a day of work, you thought, smiling against his lips.
His thumbs caressing your cheeks now, while you were slowly moving your hips against him just to make your pleasure longer.
"I was thinking about giving you some days off..." he mumbled and you looked at him.
"Really?"
You couldn't remember the last time you had a day off the studio. But he smiled.
"I was thinking... But I can't," he said, softly touching your chin.
And you smiled, feeling his soft caresses.
"I would have to close the studio without you here... I can't live without my kitten."
You giggled.
That’s a fact, Jack. Period.
Do you like my work? Support me!
Tagged ones:
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#history vikings#imagine vikings#hvitserk#hviserk x reader#hvitserk imagine#hvitserk ragnarsson#hvitserk lothbrok#hvitserk white shirt#hvitserk’s heathen feast#sister wives#5CW#5CW Event#5CWHvitserk2#shot
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Guess who has headcanons?
ME
Army headcanons incoming and I have a lot.
i’m serious there’s so much fucking content in this and i keep adding more
if you WANT to read all my shit then by all means, i’m just warning you
Continue at your own risk.
-Army use to play violin when he was younger and still knows how to play it
-He as paranoia
-Due to his paranoia, he knows a shit ton of stuff about survival and what to do if you get a serious injury
-He’s a weapon hoarder, so he has a whole damn armory under his house. he also has like 3 copies of every weapon
-The reason he has so many weapons is because he likes to tinker and modify weapons as a hobby. he would never bring them into turf, he just thinks it’s fun
-He has his original N-Zap on display in his armory
-first aid kits. everywhere
-big house, rich bitch
-not as rich as emperor, but at least upper middle class
-He has 2 cabinets for medicine. One is the main and the other is the backup, which is literally a copy of Cabinet 1. he takes Cabinet 2 with him on long trips.
-he cares a lot about proper grammar and being formal
-He hates swearing, and will only cuss if he’s in a state of extreme emotion
-He’ll only eat what he cooks because PARANOIA
-Armory also includes shooting range and training zone for testing his modified weapons
-Bring a broken weapon to him and he’ll fix it, no questions asked, and it’ll be done well
-Ironically, he’ll get injured in the dumbest ways. don’t ask how, he just will
-He cares about his health and everyone else’s health a lot
-Heavily dislikes Emperor but wants to try and.. not do that
-Actually has a good sleep schedule.
-Healthy
-WEAK though. he uses the n-zap, which is basically a toy model, so it’s very light. he focuses more on speed and agility rather than strength and endurance.
-both offensive and defensive in battles, using his ink armor to push his team forward, and the suction bombs to place them down strategically, hopefully keeping the opponent away from the goal
-has a journal, but doesn’t write in it much. usually only when he cant sleep.
-when he falls asleep, his sleeping posture will be good, but when he wakes up his body is twisted around and he wakes up with back pains, so he needs to stretch a lot (turf wars usually help with that) he can’t really help how he moves in his sleep
-trains with his team on a daily basis except on weekends unless they want to
-strict, but not enough to be dislikable
-can cook things besides curry >:/
-favorite dish is curry, but doesn’t make it all the time
-cooks for himself every night and lives alone
-would die for his teammates, probably the s4 too
-his armory is REALLY secretive, so you’d only know where it is if you follow him
-owns a real gun
-knows close combat with arms and legs, but usually only uses his legs because he has 0 arm strength he still tries though
-threaten him and he’ll threaten back
-good liar but doesn’t lie because it’s morally wrong
-age 19-20, hims adult
-he’s ace but not aro (not sure what this part is yet)
-his chapter was when he was younger and more cocky and insufferable, like every teen
-has different manuals about different topics, but his largest one is battles, and it has different sections for ranked and turf
-writing helps calm him down
-sometimes he still plays violin, but not a whole lot
-parents forced him to play violin
-parents wanted him to play piano too, but that’s when he put his foot down
-favorite genres are classical, rock, and electronica
-favorite bands are ω-3, diss-pair, and bottom feeders
-dumbass but not entirely
-if being protective of someone, he’ll kind of just glare at the person testing them and hope they stop bothering, don’t question what’s happening, or go away
-lives farther from the square and plaza unlike most of the other coroika characters
-afraid of superjumping, so he just doesn’t. he’s afraid of landing in the wrong place at the wrong time. this goes for battles and jumping around town
-owns a car and knows how to drive
-everyone asks him for a ride and he hates it
-drives everyone anyway
-does salmon run quite often
-has a lot of jackets because he hates being cold
-can and will make you wear a jacket during the winter if you’re not
-army says fuck hypothermia
-i’d say he has health insurance but i don’t think that’s even a thing in splatoon
-hates ordering stuff from resturaunts because he can’t see what they’re doing and how they’re making it, especially doesn’t trust fast food because of a bad track record and again, can’t see it most of the time
-lowkey has a fear of heights
-arachnophobe. huge arachnophobe.
-if he sees a spider he will not go anywhere near it and someone else’ll have to take care of it
-”all spiders are the same, idc if they’re venomous or not”
-use to main chargers back when he was starting out before he decided to try out the n-zap
-n-zap has been his best friend ever since
-can use other weapons, just doesn’t
-has a burning hatred for the blobobbler
-has a burning hatred for the clash blaster
-has a burning hatred for the kensa weapons
-has a burning hatred for the octobrush
-has a burning hatred for piranha pit
-make him mad during a battle and ur fucking asking for it
-can and will destroy you
-doesn’t spawn camp because that’s mean
-favorite map is sturgeon shipyard probably
-is similar to Marina in the way of him liking heavy machinery. he just finds it really fascinating
-history nerd
-knows the history of humans, or at least how inklings thought they existed
-whenever he plays on shellendorf he gets distracted by all of the neat displays and history stuff and probably ends up getting splatted
-reads a lot
-has shelves of books in his bedroom
-could make a library in his house if he wanted to but doesn’t
-has a phone and only uses it for texting
-if something goes wrong, it throws him off course, but he usually manages to collect himself
-usually has a plan, but it’s always the first thing thrown out the window
-he can recreate the cellist/fiddle parts of ω-3 and bottom feeders using his violin. it took some work to get down but he eventually got it. he likes playing the bottom feeders parts the most
-is now rank X in all modes
-idk how he uses a fuckin shooter weapon in clam blitz but he makes it work
-favorite mode is Tower Control
-if him and his team are playing rainmaker, he’s usually the one carrying it. it’s either him or forge that’ll carry the rainmaker
-he doesn’t play rainmaker as often as other modes, though. and he also always struggles to carry the rainmaker because it’s a heavy bitch
-horrible at squid beatz
-can slow dance
-doesn’t like off the hook or the squid sisters all that much
-birthday is October 29th, halloween child
-ironically doesn’t like halloween that much
i think that’s all i have
probably not, but i think that’s it
if you read all of this, congratulations, you endured deep shit
never ask me for anything ever again
i will keep adding to this list
<3
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Sawney - Part 29
Chapter Masterlist
If u wanna be tagged or untagged, let me know! –
@i-am-negan-trash @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @crzcorgi @kellyn1604 @fatedwisp @neganswinchesters @jeffreydeanneganstrash @ladylorelitanyfanfiction @mypapawinchester @heartfulloffandoms @my-achilles--heel–heel–heel @jasoncrouse @romeomontvgue @lucifers-trash-stash @kijilinn @genevievedarcygranger @superprincesspea @collette04 @toxic-ink @backseat-negan @rapsity @strangersangel9 @hannibalssweaters @gremlinfuck @negans-network @melodicdolls @mcnegan @nycktmcginn @itstotalyblue @vinylmadwoman @embracetheapocalypsewithme @darkangel66a @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @deviousginga @moonypetyr @imjustmakingsuffupagain @orchiddingme @chiwawha @ironictrickster @negans-shtten-pants @lovingzombiechaos @castielwinchester22
Warnings: HELLA GORE. Haha ya’ll r going to either love me or hate me for this. But I’m proud of this chapter and I hope ya’ll enjoy it. We’re at the halfway point for this fic and thank you guys for sticking with me-I love all your reviews and I swear I’m going to try and start replying to all of ya’ll.
Make it work, Desa.
You have to.
She crouched next to the shattered window, in the empty room where she’d watched Rick’s assault of the Sanctuary. The biters were milling around outside, stepping over blackened, burnt debris. The herd was tightly packed, and even though Desa was small, she wasn’t…that small.
She reached over and grabbed her rifle from where it rested on the dusty floor. She peered through the scope, squinting as she tried to pinpoint any familiar features on the undead. A leather jacket. Slick hair. Stubble.
She didn’t see Negan’s lifeless, pale face amongst the horde. There were far to many of them, regardless.
“Fuck.”
Desa rested her head against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t try and hold back the hot, wet tears that flowed down her face. She raised her arm and cried into her sleeve, muffling the noise.
He’s gone. He has to be.
There’s no way.
She sat on her hunches, grabbing her bag and rummaging through its contents. She found her pen and notepad at the bottom, not hesitating to rip away a piece of paper.
She began to write.
When she finished, she folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket. She rose, grabbing her bag and her rifle. Simon was waiting for her outside, glancing at her red-rimmed eyes, but saying nothing.
Desa bypassed him. She stopped when, in a hoarse voice, Simon said, “Don’t do this by yourself.”
“I thought you wanted me to get myself killed because I took your spot—”
Simon surged forward, stopping when he was towering over Desa. In a low voice, he said, “Don’t you dare say that shit. I care more about you than I do some stupid position,” he gnawed on his lower lip, before saying once more, “Don’t go by yourself. Let me send someone with you — Dwight or Arat—”
“I want all of them here, holding this place down. Negan will come back,” Desa stressed. “I have to believe that. I can’t run this place forever…no matter how much of a leader people think that I am, I can’t…” she shook her head, yanking her note from her pocket. She handed it to Simon and said, “If I’m gone, and he comes back…please give this to him.”
Simon nodded. Almost hesitantly, he said, “Drake is looking for you.”
Desa followed Simon down the stairs, where Drake was waiting, looking out one of the windows. As Simon and Desa approached, he said, “So…how are you going to sneak out of here again? And do it…without dying?”
“Biter guts,” Desa replied simply. “I’ll cover myself in their scent. Have snipers posted on lookout.”
Drake shrugged his backpack from his shoulder. He tossed it to Desa, and she caught it. It was surprisingly weighty, and she glanced up at Drake and raised her eyebrows.
“The detonator and the submunition are in there,” Drake explained. “The actual ‘trigger’ is attached to the submunition — the radio sends the signal, and…boom,” he grinned cheekily. “Chain reaction. It goes up in flames, and so do the rest. All you have to do is flip the switch.”
Desa held the bag by the straps, nodding. “The quicker we do this, the less chances there are of someone getting hurt or Rick striking again.”
“You’re crazy,” Drake said. “Although, you’ve always been crazy.”
Desa embraced him. When she pulled away, she said, “Yeah. I know.”
Her heart was heavy as she and Drake parted ways. She made her way to the ground level, Simon hot on her heels. Regina and Dwight were waiting by the door, both armed.
“Snipers are in position,” Dwight said. He eased open one of the double doors, giving a sharp whistle. Immediately, several of the undead began hobbling towards the noise. With Regina’s help, they managed to stab a biter through the forehead before dragging it’s body inside, slamming the door shut behind it.
Desa stared down at the corpse, wrinkling her nose.
“You’re really taking one for the team, here,” Simon clapped Desa on the shoulder. She held her breath, drawing her knife and deftly slicing through the stomach of the biter corpse. Blood, sinew, and guts spilled onto the floor. Regina helped her drape the sticky, gooey array of putrid smelling intestines across her shoulder and down her shirt. She took a risk and breathed through her nose, gagging at the smell.
“That is foul,” Simon said.
Desa stood. Dwight, Regina and Simon immediately took several steps back, saving themselves from the odor. Ignoring the disgusting feeling of blood dripping down her skin, she rolled her shoulder and retrieved her handgun and her knife, slipping them into their respective holster and sheathe. Next was the bag containing the detonator.
“I expect to see you back here soon, ya’ hear?” Regina cocked her hip, poking Desa in the chest with one slender finger. “Be safe.”
“Sure you don’t want a hug?”
Regina rolled her eyes, but chuckled and said, “Hell, no.”
“The minute we hear an explosion, we’ll send a team out to get you,” Simon said. “Understand? We’ll come to you.”
“Thank you, Simon.”
“Godspeed.”
After the final goodbye, Desa slipped out into the unknown.
She blended in, walking slow and steady. Undead corpses brushed up against her, but none paid her any mind. She’d occasionally glance over her shoulder, back up at the Sanctuary, where she saw the snipers perched on the balconies and through windows.
She could see the small gap beneath the Sanctuary’s fence, most likely caused by a digging animal. She walked faster, carefully picking her way through fallen bodies and debris. When she reached the fence, she tossed the bag over before sinking to the ground, flattening herself as best as she could and shimmying through the small gap. When she emerged on the other side, she grabbed the bag and broke into a run.
Desa was still covered in guts, giving her an edge over any incoming biters. Most simply ignored her. A few, spurred on by how quickly she was moving, hobbled over to investigate. She slipped past them, following the main road until she finally reached where they’d stashed the truck.
It was still there, parked inside the tunnel. Desa tore away the vines and leaves used to conceal the exposed hood, before hoping inside the truck. She placed both hands on the steering wheel, basking in silence.
She started the engine, hesitantly testing the gas. The truck lurched forward, bouncing onto the main road. Desa drove quickly, coming to a screeching halt in front of the Sanctuary. The vast herd of biters turned at the noise, and Desa slammed her palm onto the horn.
Come on, come on…
A biter began lurching forwards, growling. Then another. Desa threw the car into reverse, backing up a few paces before honking the horn once more. She repeated the process, backing up, honking, backing up again. The biters followed in a long, steady stream, and once the Sanctuary courtyard appeared relatively clear, she turned the truck around, adjusting the rearview and watching as the herd of biters began to pursue her.
She pulled the map out of her bag, spreading it out across the passengers seat. The bridge was marked, and Desa began following the route Regina had highlighted for her, occasionally checking the rearview to ensure that the herd was still behind her. She kept a good distance between the truck and the herd, making sure to honk her horn and egg them on.
Six miles.
Three down, three to go.
She placed the detonator on the passengers seat, next to the map, before dropping the submunition in the floorboard. She checked behind her once more, smiling a bit when she saw the herd still following.
It’s working.
She threw her head back and cried out in triumph, beating her fists against the steering wheel. When she saw the bridge in the distance — concrete, stretching across a roaring river, she licked her lips, eager to make the final stretch.
Desa’s smile disappeared the moment she felt a cord loop around her neck from behind, yanking hard and rendering her unable to do anything but gasp for air and flail her arms. The detonator slipped and fell from the passengers seat, onto the floorboard.
“You really thought you could pull this off?”
Father was wedged behind Desa’s seat, having emerged from the back of the truck unseen. The extension cord was pulled tight against Desa’s throat, choking her.
She inadvertently hit the gas. The truck lurched forward, increasing it’s speed, and Father’s grip slackened — though not enough for Desa to break free. He quickly caught himself and pulled even tighter, chuckling at Desa’s raspy gasps for air.
Can’tbreathecan’tbreathecan’tbreathe—
“You’re going to die, just like Jack,” Father taunted. “You want to know what he told me, before Mother stuck a needle through his eye? He begged me not to kill you. He took the blame for everything. A brave boy, if I say so myself, but a stupid one at that—”
The truck rumbled, and Desa did the first thing she could think of — grasping the wheel, she spun it as hard as she could. The front tire caught on a raised ledge, before the entire thing went careening to the side, sending Father flying and the rope slipping from around Desa’s neck. The truck landed hard, the windows exploding in a shower of glass. Sparks flew and Desa saw, for a split second, the detonator fall past her and out of the truck, while the submunition landed against her chest.
The truck stilled. Desa shoved the submunition away, hands searching frantically for the detonator. She struggled to climb out, kicking open the door above her and slipping from inside, onto the bridge.
The herd was farther behind, but the noise of the crash was enough to send them hobbling. They were distant, but approaching with a renewed desire for flesh.
Desa turned to the truck, groaning. It was smoking a bit, tendrils seeping past the crumpled hood.
The detonator. Where is it—
The cord wrapped around her throat once more, Father’s lips pressed against her ear. Desa threw her weight to the side, and then both fell, a heap of sprawling limbs against the asphalt. She elbowed Father twice in the nose, prompting him to release her. She kicked the extension cord away, gasping for air as Father rose to his feet and lunged, fumbling with something at his belt.
A knife.
Desa screamed, though not in pain or terror. The blade narrowly avoiding slicing open her throat, and she threw her full weight against Father, only to find herself being tossed like a rag doll against the faded logo on the side of the truck.
She hit, hard, and slumped to the ground. She hadn’t the energy as Father grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to her feet before he backhanded her so hard that she saw a burst of stars. The truck rattled as she impacted the side once more, mouth open in a silent gasp as blood trickled from her mouth and nose.
Fight back—
The knife pierced the skin above her hip, digging deep. Father looked surprised that he’d landed a blow, and Desa took advantage of his lapse in concentration and bit him, square on the ear. His screams were like music to Desa, and despite the sudden, sharp pain from yet another knife wound to her thigh, she held on, and pulled.
Cartilage and sinew came with Father’s left ear, the side of his face reduced to a bleeding stump. He pulled his knife free, the handle and blade slippery with Desa’s blood, before driving it into her shoulder, where it stuck.
The sound of gasoline wafted across Desa’s nostrils. She backed up until her back hit the truck, Father’s detached ear clutched between her bloody teeth. Father fell to one knee, before yanking the bandage from his eye off and pressing it against the gaping wound.
His eye was just a socket. Desa could see where she’d carved away the flesh.
With a shaking hand, Desa reached up and pulled the knife from her body. The blade slipped free after a few sharp tugs, and, using the truck for support, she got to her feet and spat Father’s ear onto the asphalt.
One of her eyes was swollen shut, her mouth and nose leaking blood. She could barely hold the knife steady, and she raised it before her as Father attempted to make a move, but lost his balance and nearly fell.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“I’m going to kill you, too,” Desa glanced over and saw that the smoke was now billowing, flames licking away at the inside of the truck. The smell of gasoline was overpowering, and Desa found herself grinning as the moaning, grunting sounds of the undead filled her ears.
She rushed Father like a linebacker, hitting him as hard as she could. He was unbalanced, she he could only hold onto Desa as they toppled over the edge of the bridge.
Water filled Desa’s lungs, and she flailed as she felt Father attempt to grab her by the arm. The current was powerful enough that it send them both tumbling head over heels, torn apart by the force of nature. Desa couldn’t see, and her hands struggled for purchase against the slippery, moss covered rocks beneath the waves. She was only able to get her bearing when she surfaced, gripping a fallen tree limb hanging over the water before pulling herself onto the muddy riverbank.
She turned to the bridge, watching the chain reaction as the truck erupted, followed by the submunitions that exploded with enough force that knocked Desa off her feet, despite the river having carried her a safe enough distance. Light filled her vision, and Desa stayed on the ground as a wave of heat washed over her, followed by a plume of smoke.
The bridge sighed, and then cracked apart. Whatever biters had survived the blast plummeted into the river below, along with a mountainous amount of concrete and steel.
Desa stood and turned back to the forest, catching a glimpse of Father’s maniacal expression before he struck her across the face. The moment her back hit the dirt, he was on her, wrapping his fingers around her throat. He squeezed, planting a knee against her chest.
“Your father is ashamed of you.”
“My father is dead, with my mother and sister,” Desa struggled to wheeze. “You are nothing to me. Neither of you were.”
Blood from Father’s wound dripped and landed on her parted lips. She felt her extended, questing hand land against something hard and jagged.
“The job is done. I finished my job,” Desa croaked, clutching the object as her vision began to fade. “And you have, too.”
Desa drove the rock, hard, against Father’s jaw. He pulled away, shrieking in pain as Desa leaped onto him, the rock in her hands becoming dotted with blood as she drove it against his head, once, twice, three times until he slouched, landing on his back, face bleeding and unrecognizable.
She screamed. She hit him again. His foot and finger twitched, mouth opened in a plea that Desa ignored. She hit him again with the rock, feeling his teeth shatter from the impact. Then again. And again.
Again. Again. Again. The tiny pools of water around her became crimson. Again. His skull crunched and caved. Again.
Desa used the rock until there was nothing left of his head, just a gooey, sticky mess of blood and brain.
Then she rolled over and vomited. Then she lay there, next to a corpse, wounds leaking.
And she laughed.
Her hair was caked with mud, body covered in soot, blood, and her own vomit. The coppery taste flooded her mouth, and she spat onto Father’s corpse.
“Fuck you,” she giggled. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.”
Her words rose in volume until she was hunched over Father’s body screaming, “Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you!”
A twig snapped from the woods behind her. Grabbing the rock she’d used, she spun and raised it.
A dozen biter faces stared at her. But they weren’t biters — they didn’t walk like biters. Their movements were methodical and calculated, rhythmic.
Human.
Am I in a dream?
“I’ll kill you,” Desa shrieked. She raised the rock higher, stumbling forward. The biters stopped, and Desa could see the life in their eyes. She chuckled and said again, “I’ll kill you. Come closer. I’ll kill you. I’ll—”
Her words faded away as the ground — and unconsciousness — rushed up and smacked her in the face
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