#this team got put through SO MUCH bullshit but they were always there for each other and i 😭😭😭

[mo-ok]

What's a Red without their Blue?

Choujuu Sentai Liveman

Yusuke Amamiya & Megumi Misaki

[wyniepooh]

aaron

hotch doesn't really like when fellow members of the team calls him by his first name. for you, however, maybe he can make an exception.

traumatized!hotch core, mentions of stabbing and TW: foyet 😔. The team investigates a case that reminds hotch of f*yet, he is not well and reader sees right through him. bau!reader, hurt/comfort/fluff that turns into something a lil more towards the end slightly bc it’s hotch so i can’t help myself .

hotch preferred when everyone called him by his last name. he never explicitly said it, but it was an unspoken rule of sorts. whether it was hotchner, hotch, or even whatever nickname penelope often came up with, he didn’t mind. as long as it wasn’t aaron.

'aaron' felt too personal to use with his co-workers. too intimate. as much as you guys were like a family, hearing aaron come out of spencer’s mouth would be as strange as a quiet crime scene.

and hell, was this crime scene hectic. the aftermath of a negotiation involving drawn weapons was always hazy— body overfilled with adrenaline and running on approximately three hours of sleep. all the law enforcement agents you could think of was present, interviewing people, collecting samples. all the lights and voices didn't help with the anxiety. but this scenario in particular had everyone scrambling to collect their thoughts.

hotch, especially. the mo of the unsub was eerily similar to that of foyet— the intricate stabbing that ensured the victim suffered long and hard but was still conscious enough to feel every inch of the next stab. the whole team was aware of the elephant stealing all the oxygen in the room, but no one really knew what to say or do given hotch’s constant stern affirmation that he was fine.

and so the whole team walked into the local police department in silence, hotch leading as the rest of you trailed behind. tired of the crickets practically sounding, you cleared your throat and exclaimed,

“so, does anyone want to get some food? i saw an authentic taco sta-“

your words trailed off as your eyes followed the figure in front of you, who was walking away haggardly towards the washrooms. you turned back towards your teammates, all of them shrugging and letting out a sigh. eventually, they all walked away with a promise to fulfill your hungry request and disappeared to their work stations.

you stood outside the bathrooms for at least five minutes, taking a step forward, then back. forward, then back. finally, you shook your head quickly, straightened your shoulders, and pushed the door into the room.

"h-hey! this is the men's-"

you didn't bother to acknowledge the young police officer by the urinal who was frantically pulling up his pants. you simply lifted an extended arm and nodded to silence him. you walked to the front of the stall where you spotted hotch's perfectly polished shoes, and stopped. once the guy left, you knocked on the door.

“hotch? i know you’re in there.”

silence. you began tapping your foot and crossed your arms, blowing out a rush of air. exasperated, you repeated again, “hotchner. open up. please.”

a click enabled you to release a breath of relief, the door opening to reveal hotch sitting on the closed toilet, head looking down with his hands crossed in between his legs.

“listen… i know you said you’re fine and that you're good to keep going, but we both know that’s bullshit. we know you. too well, even. we can tell that you're struggling, whether you like it or not. it’s obvious this case has brought up…”

your voice progressively got more silent as you noticed the response you got. silence. it wasn’t until you stopped talking did you realize his rapidly rising shoulders for each breath he took, and the way he fidgeted with his hands to hide the shaking. you immediately knelt down to his level, putting both hands on his shoulder.

“hotch? hey-“

“i'm sorry,” he mumbled.

“what?”

“i’ve been dismissive the whole day. i want to say it’s simply because i didn’t sleep last night, or the night before that, and that is part of it but… the reason i haven’t been able to sleep is because of the case. i thought the therapy was enough, i thought it would be fine once i was distracted with work,” he sighed, “i know i’ve made you all uncomfortable and i don’t know what to do about it. i wish i-“

“hotch.”

“-could just open up. i’m so sor-“

“aaron.”

he stopped his sentence midway and found your concerned eyes.

you chuckled, “if you say sorry one more time, i’m going to really make you sorry.”

it took a second for aaron to muster out a laugh as well, but eventually he did, and the sound put a genuine smile on your face.

still kneeling, your hand came up to softly caress his jaw. “don’t apologize for how you’re feeling, aaron. i’ll admit that the atmosphere is a little more tense than usual, but let's be honest here," you dropped your hand from his face, “we're all tense. we're profilers, for gods sake. what are we but tense?"

aaron gave a nod of approval, his lip curving into a small smile.

"and also, don't feel obligated to talk to us. everyone has their own coping methods. we're just reminding you that if you do need a person to talk to... we're here to lend an ear. and of course, we hope you remember that it's more than okay to take a break or admit you're uncomfortable. we get it. we won’t judge.”

you feigned a thinking face, “well, rossi might judge a little, but at least we won’t!”

he snickered and nodded again at your words, taking a deep breath. his hands had stopped shaking and his breaths seem to be more regulated. you smiled at him one last time before the both of you began to stand up.

as aaron straightened himself, he realized something. he didn't like the others calling him by his first name, but there was something different about the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue. in fact, he would do anything to hear you say 'aaron' again.

before you could both exit, the stall door behind you suddenly closed. a surprised ‘oh’ left your lips, and aaron looked equally as confused. the inclosed space pushed you closer to him, and just for a second, you saw his eyes flicker to your lips. you expected him to open the door like a gentlemen or apologize for the close proximity, but nothing ever came. you opened your mouth to say something, but all you could breathe was a quiet whisper of his name before he crashed his lips onto yours.

-

a/n: the washroom stall door was truly a paid actor.

[daydreamgoddess14]

Saturday Mornings

MASTERLIST

🤸‍♀️ Well , well, well, didn't take long to get me back on my bullshit, did it? 🤣 I bring you a Roy Kent smutty one shot. Enjoy the gorgeousness of this man 🥵

Roy doesn't have a thing for Phoebe's dance teacher. Until he does. 👀

For @littleesilvia 😘

Saturday Mornings

Saturday morning had always been for Phoebe. From the day she was born, Roy had dedicated every Saturday morning to her. In the first weeks of her birth, he'd let himself into his sister's house and picked up a squawking Phoebe from the moses basket and taken care of her from 6-10 am so his sister could get more sleep. In those early days, he'd spoken to her in his deep, gruff voice while she drifted in and out of sleep. Then they'd go for a walk to the shop, the neighbours peeping into the buggy until Roy had growled at them to "Fuck off and stop gawping at her, she's trying to fucking sleep." As she got a little older, it became cartoons and cereal - devoured together on the sofa, and then a trip to the park. He'd arranged everything for 9 years around his Saturday mornings with Phoebe. Even away matches with a midday kick off didn't stop him, it didn't matter if it was an hour, or five hours - match day or no match day, rain or shine, if he was single or not, Uncle Roy would be there. Their time alone together moved through her swimming lessons phase, gymnastics phase, and morphed into his coaching her kids team. He wanted to be on board with this next phase - really, he did. 

 

After 8 weeks of lessons, he'd finally put his finger on what the problem was. The dancing was nothing new, Phoebe had tried ballet, tap, some weird toddler baby dance shit. 16 weeks ago, she'd switched to some kind of pop/tween dance class with a lovely older woman who mostly sat to one side and pointed to each move, each music transition. It had been great, 8.30-9.30am every Saturday, fucking wonderful. Then 8 weeks ago, that woman had switched classes and you had taken over. You, with your tight Tik Tok leggings and your cropped t-shirt. You who showed the kids each move over and over again. The number of dad's attending the class had suddenly gone up. It had been 6 months since he thought that he and Keeley could try again, but she'd made it clear that that was not the case. He'd been single for longer than 6 months before, sure, but not for a long time. Back then in his younger days, he'd thought nothing of a mutually convenient resolution with a friend until he met his next significant other. He’d come to the conclusion now that he was too fucking old for a friends with benefits situation. 

 

If it was just Saturday mornings that were the problem, he could live with that. He started out by taking a book and ignoring the class completely, but Phoebe did not like that at all. So he switched to audiobooks, brought a pair of fucking ear buds so he could drown out the sound of your voice, your gentle encouragement and the giggles. If it wasn’t the leggings going to tip him over the edge, it was going to be the giggles. Or the praise. Weird, he didn’t realise he had a bit of a praise kink before. Then he heard you in a breathy voice saying something that definitely could apply to situations other than a 9 year olds dance class and nearly had to leave the room. No, it wasn’t just Saturday mornings anymore. You came to mind now at the most inconvenient times. Sitting on the bike while Jamie pulled him along at 5am when shouting at Jamie in the street would have been frowned upon and they instead trained quietly, whenever one of the kids dance routine songs came on the radio and he was forced to relive watching you teach them, at night in the dark when he was alone, in the shower… He absolutely had to stop thinking about you like this. Like you’d see it in his eyes when you waved good morning, or when he held his bank card over your little hand held machine to pay for the classes. He also couldn’t stand the very much married men who flirted so openly with you. Clearly telling their wives at home, no love, I’ll take little… Mabel to dance class, you stay here and have a lie in and a cup of tea.  

 

It was funny how they’d migrated from the later morning class which was run by a woman who had the body shape of a fucking pencil. Beautiful, yeah she wasn’t bad. But she didn’t have the strong thighs you did, the sweeping curve of your hip into a cute little waist. He couldn’t go another week like this. Had to stop now, stop being so pervy. He was no better than the other blokes who came to watch their kids' class. Except he was slightly better, because he was actually single. 

“Uncle Roy, we’re here, come on!” Phoebe was already half out of the car. He braced himself for another week of torture.

“Good morning guys! Come in, I’m just getting set up.” You called out from across the room. He was a bit too early really. Not intentionally, of course not. You were still in your hoodie, still setting up the portable speaker and drinking a Costa coffee. You put a song on in the background and he had to hold his breath while you pulled off the warm grey sweater. As it came off, it pulled the baggy cropped t-shirt up as well, exposing your sports bra underneath, the soft skin of your stomach. It was definitely soft whenever he thought about it anyway. You straightened yourself out and sat on the floor, stretching your legs out in front of you and reaching forward to your toes. Phoebe lept out of her seat, threw her coat at Roy and plonked herself down in front of you, mirroring your pose. “Joining me for a warm up Phoebs?” 

“It’s important to warm up. My Uncle Roy is a football coach and he says it’s the most important part.”

“He’s not wrong.” You smiled, moving through some other poses and stretches. He was a dead man. This was it. The end, this was how it was going to go. You stretch your arms up as far as you can reach them, stretching out your back with a little pop. He tried to ignore the fucking Grecian vase shape your body made, truly. Until you’d made a noise a little too close to a moan for his liking, followed by, “Holy shit that feels good.”

 

Fucking hell. Fucking hell .

 

“Sorry Phebs, didn’t mean to swear.”

“It’s ok. I’ll let you off the first time, but you owe me a pound next time.”

“Aww thanks.” The class soon filled up, he wished he’d taken a seat way at the back, out of the way so he could either look at you without it being so noticeable, or ignore you completely. He totally respected your classes, he really did. It was a tricky thing, conducting an age appropriate class for 9 year olds which avoided sexualising dance moves but also made them feel like they were able to move their bodies how they wanted to. Of course, it’s not always the dance moves themselves which could be seen as sexual, more often it’s the person watching who makes that connotation. And he tried so, so hard not to do that. Tried desperately to not think about how your body would move underneath his, on top of his, the beautiful sounds he could draw from you. He needed to get out, feigned a phone call, holding up his phone as he got to the door so you knew he’d be right outside if Phoebe needed anything. He didn’t think you’d even seen him until you gave him a little thumbs up. 

 

At the end of the class, you encourage the kids to just sit for a minute. You all usually end up sprawled on your backs, not having to make eye contact makes it easier for some of the kids to talk openly if they wanted help or an opinion on something. It was somewhat of an eye opener for the parents as well. This week, you had the kids sit up so they could see you, 

“I thought I might take you on a little trip, if you guys fancy it? I was going to go and see the new Barbie film after class next week. If any of you want to come with me, with your grown up - of course - then we could have a really exciting morning! I’m not allowed to take any of you without another grown up though, ok? So you’ll have to check with them first.” You handed each of them a little pink party invite. He already knew before Phoebe asked. Their match next week was on Sunday so he was free all of Saturday morning. He had no excuse to not take her, he also didn’t think he wanted one. 

 

He hoped you were a little bit dumb. It was a horrible thought, he knew that, to wish stupidity on someone. But if there was any chance of him making a full recovery and banishing you to the depths of his mind, never to turn up again - especially not when he was in the shower with his hand around himself, he really fucking hoped that you were dumber than a box of rocks. You weren’t. He already had an inkling of that, but he could still live in hope. 

“Fancy the Barbie movie next week?” You’d asked brightly as he’d held out his card to pay, he wasn’t sure if it was the physical and mental turmoil of having to watch you for the last hour, but he thought he could detect a sliver of hope in your voice.

“Fucking probably, she won’t let me say no.” Phoebe held out a hand for her pound. “Add it to my tab.” 

 

And of course, that’s how he found himself in a dark cinema the following week with a gaggle of kids around him. He was still trying to work out if it was a blessing or a curse that he’d ended up sitting next to you - it had certainly earned him glares from one or two of the other grown ups. As you laughed again at another joke aimed to sail just over pre-teen heads, he knew it was a curse. It had to be. Forced to listen to that laugh for two hours? Fucking torture. When you cried, he knew he was done for. He reached over, just a little and patted the back of your hand in comfort. Just a little there, there gesture. You’d only fucking gripped his hand and squeezed it, he stole a glance at you and you’d given him a watery smile and a little lopsided shrug. Then you’d let go of his hand, and turned back to the movie. He had to spend the remaining 45 minutes of the film trying not to think about your warm hands carefully exploring his body. 

 

The following week, he did it.

“Would you like to go for a coffee sometime?” He asked quietly as his card payment went through. He didn’t think you’d heard him until you looked up sharply.

"Aren't you like way out of my league?"

"What league is that then?”

“Well, you're in the ridiculously fit footballer league? Y’know for people who date supermodels and influencers?”

“I wouldn't fucking know about that.”

“I'm sure you would, I'm sure they don’t kick you out once you retire. Once a fit footballer, always a fit footballer? Is that the name of it? The… F. I. T? Or is it just the R.F.F.L?”

“What's that stand for?”

“No idea, it's your league, you tell me. Footballers Into Tits?”

“That’s a shit acronym”

“I know. I can do better, promise. Give me a minute.”

“I'm sure you'd be alright in that league” He said quietly,

“Excuse me? That was very cheeky. Ohh, maybe it could stand for ‘Filthy rich but Impossibly Tedious’?”

“That’s pretty good, definitely suits some footballers I know. Alright, fine. What fucking league are you in, then?”

“Whatever the Conference equivalent of the F.I.T is.”

“Now that can’t be true.”

“Oh yeah? How do you know?”

“I just fucking do. Is it a yes to coffee?”

“I mean, I still think you’re way too high up the F.I.T for me, but sure.”

“It’s the R.F.F.L actually.” He smirks as you hand him a flyer for the class. 

“My number is on there.” You tell him, then you’d walked away without taking his number, which meant he was going to have to be the one to contact you first. No, you definitely weren’t dumb. Shit .

 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a combination of factors really, a busy week at work meant though he’d messaged you quickly, he wasn’t actually able to meet for coffee until the end of the week. So you’d spent all week in a message exchange which had ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous.

“Would you rather fight 100 tiny Jamie Tartt’s or 1 giant one?”

“100 tiny ones. I’d fucking stamp on them all.”

“Figured out what league you’re in.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Champions League.”

“Fuck off am I. I’ve wikipedia’d your dating history mate. Gina Gershon? I think I should cancel coffee now…”

“Fuck, please don’t.”

“Do you always try so hard to look like you’re not looking at dance class?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uhuh. Ok.”

“Yes, I do. Every week is torture.”

“Jamie says I’m too old for the R.F.F.L.”

“Maybe that works in my favour. If I’m up against Gina fucking Gershon, I’d have no chance.”

“You’re not up against anyone.”

“I've been thinking about you all morning.”

“Was that flirting? Were you just flirting with me?”

“Shut up. See you later.”

And now… well. Coffee at 3pm on a Friday turned into dinner at 6pm, dessert at 8pm and a nightcap at 10pm in his kitchen. You tapped the edge of your empty tumbler,

“Another?” He asked, leaning against the counter just across from you.

“No, thank you. I should… go.” The lift at the end meant it could have been a statement, could have been a question. He nodded,

“Early class.”

“Yep. I think we lost track of time.”

“Or not,” he offered,

“Or not,” you bit your lip and he felt indecision fluttering in his chest. He pushed off the counter and closed the gap between you both in only one step.

“If I kissed you now, would you be mad?” He asked softly, he could see your body tremble with the breath you took.

“Think I’d be more mad if you didn’t.” He watched you hold his gaze for as long as you could before looking at his mouth. He took the tumbler from you and put it on the counter before placing a careful hand on your hip and leaning down to kiss you. The warm whisky taste of vanilla and honey mingled with the chocolate from your dessert and Roy realised that no, he hadn’t been tortured before, watching you teach a bunch of kids how to dance wasn’t the way he was going to go. This was. Right here in his kitchen with your arms winding around his neck and bringing him as close as you could possibly get him. Your fingers scratching through his hair. He pressed you into the counter, 

“I’ve thought about doing this for a long time,” he whispered, kissing down your neck, making you gasp. He pulled away quickly, worried that it was too much too soon, “Shit, sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He went to move further back to give you space but your hands gripped his shirt to pull him back in,

“Please, I don’t want to stop,” you breathed heavily, “I don’t want you to stop.” You said, more firmly. He was against you again in an instant,

“Sure?” He asked, “You’re sure?” You stepped up to kiss him, making your feelings very clear,

“I’m sure.” Your fingers flew to the buttons of his shirt, undoing the first couple. He pulled you away from the counter, strong arms wrapped around your back and lifted you enough to move you both to the sofa. You stumbled against the cushions, falling backwards and pulling him with you so that he landed heavily on top of you.

"Oof."

“Fuck, sorry. You ok?” He sits back up on his knees, allowing you to automatically move your legs to either side of his and sit up,

“Never better,” his smile catches you off guard, “fuck, you’re gorgeous.” You mumble, reaching for him. The feeling is more than mutual. He needs to feel your kiss again, desperate to feel your skin on his. It’s better than anything he’d spent the last 8 weeks dreaming of. And the sounds you made as his hands and kisses explored your body were enough to drive him insane. He moves further down your body, pulling your skirt down with him and immediately turns to trail kisses and little bites along your inner thigh while his hand reaches up to link fingers with yours.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his breath hot against your hip. The simple request alone made your body turn to liquid against him. He’d spent so long thinking about (denying, debating, ignoring) the effect you had on him, he hadn’t actually considered that you would be just as affected by him. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he looked y’know, alright , for an older bloke. But still, seeing it first hand… seeing it first hand, hearing it first hand, from you was really something else entirely. You tugged his hand to bring up back up to you but he shook his head, his beard catching the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, “busy,” he said, his voice muffled. He focused on nothing but you, losing himself in each gasp, moan and clutch of your hand still holding his. He worked you through one bone-shaking orgasm without stopping, leaving you a shuddering mess as he went straight for another. Looking up at you, he could see the hand that wasn’t clinging onto him had covered your eyes. This time when you squeezed his hand, he made his way back up your body and settled between your legs. “You ok?” he asked, leaving soft kisses on your jaw before finally capturing your mouth in a filthy kiss. You didn’t speak, just shook your head. “You taste fucking incredible.” He kissed you again and you whimpered, finally moving your hand away from your eyes.

“I’ve got a problem.”

“Oh yeah?” He said, moving back to your neck, a hand slipping behind you to unclip your bra.

“Yeah I thought you’d only want a one night thing but that’s impossible now.”

“It was fucking impossible anyway. One night is definitely not enough time.”

“Oh,” you whispered weakly. “Good. Please-, oh fuck,” he caught a nipple lightly between his teeth, “please don’t stop.” So he didn’t, and he never would again if it was up to him. When he’d been (much) younger, he fully grasped the importance and concept of consent. He was a professional footballer - it wasn’t just important, it was crucial. But as he’d gotten older, he finally realised just how much better saying, and hearing, the words made everything. Being able to ask, “may I?” and “I need to hear you say it” and waiting, waiting, waiting, for the breathy response had never left him so wrecked before. He pushed into you in long, slow strokes while you met him with each roll of your hips. When you hold his jaw tightly to bring his gaze to yours, he nearly falls apart but he's determined to get you there first and he knows you're so close. "You feel so good-," you whisper, "So good."

"Fuck, I need-"

"I know, I'm right with you." His name is on you lips as you come and he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. When he joins you, he kisses you with such depth it's like you were made for him. You lay still together for a while as you catch your breath. He keeps his nose in the crook of your neck while his hand softly smooths across your ribs and the side of your breasts. Your legs no longer lock around him, you stretch out and enjoy the weight of his body covering you. 

"'M crushing you," he mumbles. His voice so low in your ear makes you shiver and despite you not being ready for another round quite so soon, your hips buck, "Fucking hell, give me a minute," he laughs.

"You're not crushing me, and I'm not ready yet either," you grin into his hairline and kiss his temple. 

"Hmm if you say so." He rocks against you, half hard again already, needing to hear the broken little moan that ghosts over his head. "Come on, I want you in a bed this time."

 

He wasn't happy when you had to tear yourself from his bed at 7am to go home. He wasn't happy when he picked Phoebe up at 8am. He wasn't happy in the drive thru Costa queue at 8.10am. He was happy at 8.20am when he finally got to hand you your coffee and see your smile as you stretched out on the floor of the dance studio. He was perfectly happy knowing that you'd be torturing his Saturday mornings for a while longer. 

 

FIN

[ultfreakme]

Honestly Geto and Gojo having the same death anniversary which happens to be the most romantic day in Japan, with a character in-story stating how romantic it is should be enough evidence to convince anybody that SatoSugu are supposed to be a romance.

On top of that, we hear that JJK0 is about Yuuta and Rika's love but it's also about Geto and Gojo's relationship.

Then Gege Akutami specifically assigning break-up songs to Geto and Gojo.

AND THEN; they each get canon songs made in each other's POV speaking about their feelings specifically for one another. Where Gojo's song contains lyrics like "Even though I’ve come to know the scent of you being different from mine" and "Any prayer, any word Could bring us closer, but they couldn’t reach you Just like a silent love, In the summery colors along my cheeks". And Geto's song has lyrics like "Even trivial conversations are fine. Show me your blushing face once more" and "It exists only here. I want to touch you" and "Though I understand a wounded heart. Why do I end up hurting and leaving the same scars?"

The animation team going out of their way to give these two more soft moments hanging, creating visual parallels through the Betta Fishes, the flowers, the entire OP for Hideen Inventory but especially the part where we are seeing Gojo's vision being filled with Geto looking amazing while he rides Geto's rainbow dragon.

I saw someone say we're just projecting western views of romance onto satosugu but like, LOOK AT ALL THIS. I cannot stress enough the insanity of their death dates. It's like two people dying one after the other on Valentine's Day. This is some Romeo & Juliet bullshit. JJK in general has next to no romance, no one's pining after each other, the few times there are implications, it's very short. The most obvious one is Mechamaru and Miwa. Now imagine if Mechamaru and Miwa were the ones who got Ao No Sumika and Akari. Imagine they got 5 episodes dedicated to their story and Mechamaru dies on December 24th and Miwa's the one forced to put him out of his misery for betraying them to Mahito and Kenjaku.

Okay do you fucking see how ridiculous denying SatoSugu is? If Mechamaru and Miwa got all that even WITHOUT saying an 'I love you' no one would question their romance.

I know people keep making fun of shonen animes for having a stronger 'romance' between the two guy leads than with any other love interest but I've seen that stuff and even there it isn't nearly as deliberately romantic as SatoSugu. I can tell that Kuroko & Kagami, Gon & Killua or Levi & Erwin are supposed to be friends, the shipping thing is based on the established friendship stuff but SatoSugu are so blatant it's hard to think of another explanation.

I saw a point about how people are projecting western perspectives of romance on platonic friendship expression in a different culture, which I do get, I think it's a valid point. Idk much about how people express friendship in Japan but I have heard there's a lot more skinship and openness as compared to western cultures.

But w/ SatoSugu there isn't anything that can be read as purely platonic, there's always an ambiguity or it's directly romantic.

[winterwandersland]

NEW STORY ALERT❗️❗️

Echoes of Mercy

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Black!Fem!Reader Call of Duty x The 100 x Resident Evil Word Count: 3.7k tw/cw: blood, shooting, self-harm, death After you and your unit were declared MIA two years before, Task Force 141 is assigned another mission, one that could help put a stop to the ongoing epidemic in the United States. The country was suffering and the death toll was rising. Ghost can't help but to think about you, Enyo “Merci” Abara. Merci, is what they called you. Given the name because of your wishful thinking and light that you gave to every soldier you worked with. As a soldier, you were supposed to kill, but you did everything you could to not have to follow that path. But when it came down to it, you made sure your targets didn't suffer, always being thanked for putting an end to their suffering. However, the mission that is supposed to save the world may now give evidence to your unit's last location and that the world may be at greater stakes than first assumed.  You are referred to as "Merci" a majority of the time, with minor/rare use of first or last names.

Chapter 1

The day you disappeared was the day Simon Riley broke. That day, both of your units were coming back from a joint operation, tasked with capturing a terrorist, one that used to be your colonel. Your mentor. Your best friend.

Ghost was lucky he wasn’t stripped of his title of Lieutenant after he practically lost his mind when they found out that your plane was nowhere to be found.

Today was the two-year anniversary of you and your team’s disappearance. General Shepherd called a meeting with the 141, the last unit to see you and your team alive. You were supposed to meet at the hospital to rescue your prisoner before detaining her, but you all never showed up.

There was no plane. No bodies. Nothing.

The plane’s tracker was defective. It said you were there. At the landing point on top of the hospital building. But there was nobody there. No one could make sense of it. Not Soap. Not Gaz or Laswell. Not Price. And especially not Ghost.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the team, Simon and you had a deal. You both kept personal trackers on each other to always know where the other was at in case anything ever happened. He knew you’d never take it off. Not without letting him know.

His was kept on the back of his dog tags. You insisted that you should do the same, but he felt that yours should be tailored to you. He knew how much you cared for your hair and tried to keep it healthy even through the dry conditions you all were constantly in. So, he got one that you could use to clip in your hair.

It was easily hidden in your curls, wrapped around your military regulated bun. It just looked like an ordinary clip in your hair and did no damage to the curls that you and Simon cherished.

He should have been able to track you. If the plane's tracker couldn't be located, he should have been able to locate you. He should have been able to find you. If he found you, he’d find your team, but you were the most important to him, at least. If anyone was found, it had to be you. He just hoped that wherever you were, you were granted mercy.

“As you all know, today has officially marked two years since the disappearance of Squadron Eight. I know that this may be a hard day for you all, and I hope that you all have found some peace over these last two years. But as you know, when there has been no trace or any leads of any persons, they must be declared KIA. I hate-,” Shepherd started before being interrupted by a pissed off Lieutenant.

“This is bullshit!” Ghost yelled as he banged his hand on the desk, causing it to shake and startling the rest of the team. “They aren’t dead!”

Laswell was accompanying Shepherd for times like this. Times when she knew Shepherd wouldn’t be able to calm the Lieutenant or any other 141 members who may lose their temper at the news. She motioned her hand at Ghost, letting him know to calm down. You were important to him. While you two never confirmed the relationship, the subtle change to the same home address told Price and Laswell all they needed to know.

“I know that this isn’t the news you all wanted to hear,” Laswell began, witnessing the huff and puff of the Lieutenant. Everyone else did their best to keep their composure, but they were hurting, too, their breaths becoming more drawn out.

Squadron Eight was the only team the 141 would always agree to work with. From the first day the two units worked together, there was instant chemistry. They were just as capable and were the only other unit that could actually keep up with the famous unit.

Most of your squadron were former CIA and FBI members. Others were highly skilled Marine Special Operators and Green Berets. You were one of two Navy Seals. You and the other woman were the only women in the history of the United States ever to become Seals. She was the first and you the second a decade later, but also becoming the first black woman to join..

She trained you and your team. Then there was an accident. She left, joining the United Liberation Army, and that’s when she became a terrorist. Not only the country’s enemy, but yours, too.

But that didn’t matter now because the two people who were bound to be in the history books were now gone to never see themselves in the headlines. Now, the headlines haunted the 141. Even after two years, your name still roamed around, but it lessened more every day.

“But we have done all we can to get a lead on where the plane landed or any whereabouts of the members and their prisoner. There is no trace of anything, not even a boot. We have had surrounding areas searched, but they have come up with nothing. There is no evidence of them being held captive. We have extended this day for as long as we could. I’m sorry, but you all know this is protocol,” Laswell continued as she sent a glare at Ghost.

“So what? We just stop looking for them?” Gaz asked.

“We have exhausted all options. There’s nothing else we can do. I’m sorry,” Laswell said. She could see the hurt in the team’s eyes. Squadron Eight was no more. Now, all they could do was mourn and learn to move on with their lives. “With that being said, we have a mission for you all,” General Shepherd began.

“As you all know, there’s been a viral outbreak that’s been affecting the States. Right now, we consider the situation to be under control. There’s a facility on an island that is housing CDC members who are looking for a cure for the virus. So far, they believe that what they have now could help treat the symptoms. They need you all to deliver it back to the states to be distributed,” Shepherd announced.

“Why does the CDC need a Special Forces team to receive an anti-virus?” Price asked.

“Because you all are the only ones they trust to not use the anti-virus on yourselves before distributing it to the public. It is also a classified mission. No one else knows about this facility. They abandoned the island many years ago and restricted access to only cleared personnel. It’s a simple mission. Nothing too much to handle, as I know this is a hard day for you all. You should be back on base in no time. Wheels up at 1600 hours.”

Ghost stared out the window, watching them pass over the same seas and land that they had when you disappeared. There was still nothing there and if there was, it’d be long gone by now, at the bottom of the ocean or disintegrated into the sand or dirt.

He felt helpless, but he never lost hope that you were still out there, somewhere, dead or alive. One day, even if it was twenty years from now, they would find something that would give him some sort of closure.

The only regret he had from that day was that he didn’t push hard enough to let you all fly in the same plane. There was more than enough room, but Shepherd insisted that it would be best to have two planes in case anything happened to another plane, they’d still have a way out.

He still kept his tracker on him, never taking it off for any mission. Perhaps in the future, he would receive a notification indicating that you were nearby. Maybe you’d see that he was near and you both would find each other again. Maybe your tracker would ping and it’d lead him to your remains to hold and finally say his last goodbyes.

The Captain had some sympathy for Simon. It didn’t take much to see what you and the Lieutenant had no matter how much you two tried to hide it, but with the way the Lieutenant’s eyes softened when he saw you and his rush to urgency whenever you were in trouble, there was no denying what you two had.

Have.

You’re still alive. Right? You have to be because if you aren’t, that means that would be the end of Simon. Simon Riley may have perished when you disappeared, but there was just a sliver of him that held on. A fraction of him that hoped that you were holding onto that piece of him and waiting to restore it once you two were united because that’s what you normally did.

You restored him. Made him feel whole when he believed he was broken because, for some reason, the hardass attitude and mask didn’t scare you like it should have.

It could have been because you were a SEAL. You had to have seen your course of horror over your years, so a skull mask on a gargantuan of a man didn’t phase you.

You two met when you were a recruit, still in training to be a part of the Navy Seals. He had only trained you for a few weeks. You captured his attention from the second he saw you be the only one not complaining from the hours of running you all were doing. While every man at the training camp complained and groaned, begging for the rigorous training to stop, you kept going, only stopping to drink water.

You were the only one that kept going. That was the day he put in a good word for you. Those few weeks of training became hell for you for more reasons than the intense combatant training. You and the Lieutenant became close for circumstances you both wished were different.

When he had to leave, you both kept in contact with each other and soon enough, you were back together again, this time working side by side after you passed your qualifications tests. The light in your eyes was something he’d never forget seeing, and he looked forward to how often he’d be seeing you.

The helicopter ride was silent, only the sound of the propellers and the turbulence of the aircraft filling the depressive quietness. Fourteen hours was a long time. Long enough to recall every bit and piece of what happened the day you vanished.

TWO YEARS EARLIER

It was a day that no one ever saw coming. Squadron Eight was down a colonel, leaving you in charge. The men on your squad didn’t like it, but it was in your colonel’s wishes.

You knew the only place where your colonel, Charmaine Diyoza, would be hiding; with her father. It pained you to have to be the one to capture the woman that trained you and became one of your favorite people in the world. But she had committed unforgivable acts against the government and its citizens. Ones that made her the number one wanted terrorist in the world.

It made you wonder if maybe you would become like her. She trained you, so why wouldn’t you follow the same path? As much as the thoughts hurt to think about, you had a job to do and that was to capture Charmaine Diyoza.

Simon tried to talk you out of it. Said that you could stay back, but you refused. You told him that she had to see you. She had to see the look of betrayal on your face. You wanted to tell her how stupid she was. But you also wanted to tell her how much you still loved her.

“Both units will ride in separate planes, considering you both will be going separate ways once this mission is over,” General Shepherd informed the teams.

“That makes no sense. We can all ride in the same plane and we separate once we touch down on base again,” Ghost said.

“We need to make sure we have a second plane in case Diyoza tries to sabotage one of them. We all know how intelligent she is and she will do anything to escape her fate,” Shepherd responded.

So that was it. Both teams rode in separate planes and, as informed, the mission was capture or kill.

You had had dinners with Diyoza and her father. You all were practically family. He treated you like another daughter. Diyoza was the only other person who knew everything about you. Your home life. The events that took place when she went on leave during training, leaving Ghost to be your Commanding Officer. She was an additional sister. One that you could relate to and be yourself around.

And now, you were hunting her. Searching for her to take her prisoner. All that went through your mind is if you could go through with the plan. Would you be able to take Diyoza prisoner like you were supposed to, or would you let her go?

When you all touched down, it felt surreal. Maybe you could make a plea deal for her or you could talk her down from running again. The more she ran, the worse the situation got. You just wanted it to all stop.

You checked in on Price a few times to make sure he was doing alright. He and Diyoza may not have been together, but they were obviously each other’s person. Both in superior roles and always looking to each other for advice. There was no doubt that there was something else going on with them.

He insisted he was fine, but you had a feeling that wasn’t true. He was hurting just like you.

“You all know the drill. This is capture or kill,” Ghost announced.

Your teams surrounded the house. You caught a glimpse of Diyoza and called out to her. You hoped she would be the one that came out the front door, but instead, it was her father, standing with a shotgun pointed your fellow teammates.

“Don’t shoot!” you yelled out, talking to both your team and Diyoza’s father. “Mr. Diyoza! Put the shotgun down!” you shouted.

Your body was tense, like it had become frozen as your thought about the multiple outcomes of the situation. Everyone had their hand on a trigger and someone was bound to pull it, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come to such events.

“This is what it has come to? You on their side. Really?” her father shouted, obviously speaking to you.

“Charmaine Diyoza must be placed under arrest for the crimes of-,” you began, but there was a shot fired and the teams started shooting towards the front door, sending bullets through the house and shattering the front windows.

“Noooo!” you called out, rushing to the body of Mr. Diyoza. You knelt down and put as much pressure as you could on his wounds, but it was too late. When you put your head up, everyone had their guns aimed at the front door.

You turned your head and saw Diyoza standing at the entryway, tears in her eyes and a knife in her hand.

“Charmaine, listen to me. You just have to come with us, please. It didn’t have to be like this. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you pleaded with her.

“Put your guns down! Now!” you yelled at both teams.

They each looked at each other as you gave them pleading eyes. “Please,” your voice cracking and a salty, wet teardrop falling to your lips.

Everyone put their guns down and you stood up, covered in blood, as you slowly approached Diyoza.

“Let’s go, Char,” you said as you inched closer to her.

“You know where they’ll send me,” she told you.

“I know. But we can make a plea deal. Okay? You can plead insanity. It's going to be alright,” you told her.

“You don’t have power over that and you know that. We both know what I need to do,” Diyoza said as she took the knife up to her throat.

“Charmaine, no!” you yelled as you rushed towards her, but again, you were too late. Her body dropped to the ground and blood sprayed all over you. You rushed to her aid, putting as much pressure on Diyoza’s neck as you could, mixing the blood that was already on your hands with hers.

Price came rushing to your side, grabbing anything he could find in the house to keep pressure on the wound. He picked up Diyoza and your team ran to your plane, doing your best to keep her alive.

He placed her on the plane and tried to stay, but you screamed at him.

“Go away!” you yelled, pushing him out of the plane.

“Merci,” he said, his voice softening.

“No! No one needed to die! This didn’t have to happen! Go away!” you continued to yell.

So he left.

Your teams separated, but Price instructed Nikolai to meet you all at the hospital.

But you all never made it.

PRESENT DAY

No one on the team really believed you all were dead and if you were, they hoped it was a quick and painless death. How does a plane vanish into thin air? No one will ever know. But in case they did find you all trapped somewhere, they carried extra food, water, and other supplies on them.

It became handy on missions that lasted longer than they should have, despite the supplies being meant for your team. The extra weight in their rucksacks gave them hope and the day they had to let go of the extra weight would be a devastating day for them.

Simon put all of your favorites in his bag and labeled them to say ‘for Merci’ because without permission, you wouldn’t eat it. You usually never did anything without permission. The first time he let you in his room, you stood until he granted you a spot on the bed. Since then, he’s tried to break you of the obscure compulsions, but they still seemed to linger.

The island started to come into view, its greenery and assumed wildlife. It was beautiful. They understood why only cleared personnel could enter the island, because anyone else would tamper with its beauty. The landing of the helicopter even seemed forbidden, like they were committing a crime to force their aircraft into such a verdant and seemingly serene environment.

From a distance, you could see the CDC building perched on top of a hill some miles away.

“Why couldn’t we land on top of the building?” asked Soap.

“Not a designated landing center,” Price answered.

“Well, neither is this,” Gaz remarked, referring to the random land in the woods that Nikolai landed.

The leaves were still falling from the blow of the propellers, and they circled around the team, creating an eerie presence. The team used their GPS to lead them to the coordinates of the building. Nikolai insisted he would stay in the helicopter until the team came back, keeping track of everyone’s locations.

Winter time was beginning to hit. Simon noticed the breeze that got stronger as they traveled and the cutting of leaves as it brushed across his teammates’ faces, creating minor scratches across their skin. The leaves crunched beneath their feet with each step, making it impossible to keep quiet throughout their travels.

“At least another mile until we reach the facility,” Price announces, keeping his teams’ heads up and giving them hope, even though he knew they’d never give up. Everyone skulked about the woods, tracking anything that moved, though the number of animals lessened as they went into hibernation. The only movement was themselves, the branches that occasionally fell from the trees, and the birds that flocked in the air.

“Is it just me, or does it seem like the birds are watching us?” Gaz asked. It wasn’t the craziest statement he could make. The birds stood on the branches surrounding them, a few straying from the lurking flock.

“They’re crows,” Ghost began, “They do that.”

“Those flying away are mocking jays,” Price said.

“How d'ya know that?” Soap inquired.

Price whistled a tune, a melody from one of his favorite songs. They all stopped in their tracks as they heard the mocking jays repeat the short whistled song. They were enjoying the moment until the flocking of the crows interrupted it, circling the trees and creating a dark shadow above them, and making the men hold their guns up in retreat. But the murder never attacked. Instead, they all flew in the same direction, towards the facility, as if they were being controlled.

“The hell was that?” Ghost blurted out.

“Thought you were the crow connoisseur,” Soap replied.

No one laughed.

The crows’ behavior was absurd, but they brushed it off and headed to the facility that only seemed further the more time they took.

The men’s pace was fast because of their wide gaits. They were in a rush to get home, so they focused solely on getting to the facility. As they edged closer to what was supposed to be a working building, a gust of a putrid stench emerged.

“Fuckin’ hell. Something must’ve died out here,” Ghost commented.

“More like someone,” Gaz said, kicking a pile of decayed flesh and exposed human ribs. They tried to keep their minds off the smell, but it seemed to get stronger the closer they got to the building.

“What do you think could have done that?” Soap wondered.

The smell of rotting flesh that filled their nostrils deeply disturbed them as they approached the building, giving them the sensation that death surrounded them. Before they went into the building, the murder of crows they had seen earlier, massed together over piles of dead bodies and rotting corpses.

Soap questioned, "I thought this mission was supposed to involve retrieving an anti-virus from a CDC facility."

“It is,” Ghost responded.

Soap’s voice became more gruff as he quizzed, “So then, why are we standing in front of an abandoned building on top of a mass grave?”

And there we have it folks. I have finally begun a new story and need to finish the chapter for my other story.

[stickthisbig]

Look it was a really fuckin rough day and internet drama is what is keeping me afloat so here's some bullshit about Watcher

I don't want to talk about creative decisions. Creators deserve to be paid and TV costs a lot of money, and whether you think a TV model makes sense and reflects the brand's appeal is ultimately a matter of taste.

I want to talk about how much this fuckin thing costs.

If you are going to make a venture like this survive, you must aim at the money. I am the money. I'm financially independent and old enough to have kids who watch the show but have no income, I am a long-time BFU/Watcher fan who's splashed out for merch and a live show, and I've subbed to multiple similar services (RIP Alpha). I am the boring adult that you must convince, because I am the one who can pay for this without a second thought. You will not make it through this on the empty promises of children.

The closest comp to Watcher is not Dropout; it's Nebula. And trust me on this- they would prefer you to compare it to Dropout, because of how much better it makes them look. Compared on full prices (because you can almost always get a discount), Nebula costs half of what Watcher does, for a much, much larger catalog. I am a huge fan of Nebula. I've watched hundreds of hours on Nebula, because there is loads of varied content from creators who have expressed exactly the same wishes for creative freedom as the Watcher team.

And honestly, if we are gonna talk about comparisons to Dropout, you're never gonna be able to watch BFU on this service, so it's apples to oranges anyway.

I am certain that they will make more money percentage-wise through this service. It's not on me to care about their yield from youtube vs a dedicated streaming service vs a partnered streaming deal. That's not my job; I'm not their accountant or their dad. It's on me to look at value for money. I am not a charity, and when you put yourself up as a commodity, I'm gonna kick the tires and leave if I don't like the price.

I'm not going to pay $60 for this, or $42, or $6/month, because it's a bad value on my end. It is less content for more money. $30 still would have been too high, but there was a price point where I, the person with the intersection of money and interest, would have said yes. That is the trade-off: you can wait around forever for somebody to spend $60 and end up with $0, or you can get three people who balked in for $20 each and end up with $60.

Look, we're all friends here, we know the Watcher crew is not so damn dumb that they didn't look into joining an existing streaming service. It's not a fuckin grand revelation that there were potentially other options, and obviously they must have thought about this for longer than ten minutes. But when your service is MUCH more expensive than its closest comparison (Nebula) and the same price as the well-established competitor you'd like to be compared to (Dropout), why on god's green earth would you think I would buy it if I was anything short of obsessed? Where is your growth plan? How is this sustainable? The absolute best plan for me is to wait until the next series of Ghost Files is over, pay $6 to watch the whole series, then cancel again.

Also you're fuckin leaving money on the table by not having delayed VOD on youtube but at this point, that's none of my business.

If it's worth $60 to you and you've got the money, you do what's right for you. But I'm out. No hard feelings! But also no $60.

(Also I do think 100% saying that the back catalog will stay on youtube is a walkback and not what he said in the video, so like, watch that)

[mistyresolve]

Not sure if you’re doing requests still.

If want to ignore this, feel free.

How I was wondering how would Ghost and Gaz react if their s/o had sweet goofy Labrador that fellow them around and flop onto their laps, whenever they sat down?

Something super cute?

Word Count - 1.7k

Tags/Warnings - Fluff, puppiess

A/N - I've recently been so unbelievably obsessed with livestock guardian dog....I'm well aware that a lab is not the right breed but still

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form 

Ghost 

You had come to visit the base on your day off. And just like every other time you did so, you brought your dog, Archie, with you. She was a 2-year-old energetic, long-haired golden lab, who had yet to grow out of her puppy faze. Always tripping over her still-too-big feet and chewing on anything and everything.

Archie was well known around the base, and the boys adored her. She got all the attention a dog could want. And more.

Archie also had an unpredictable favourite, whom she always ran to first, and everyone for when he appeared. Including you. You always had a hard time getting her back in the car when it was time to leave when Ghost was around. On more than one occasion you have had to ask him to go hide somewhere so she would listen to you.

It was so bizarre because aside from the occasional pat on the side, he basically ignored her. Ghost never seemed to mind though. He never once complained about being “inconvenienced” or annoyed by Archie following him around. Frankly, you had your suspicions that he enjoyed the dog's company. 

As soon as you let Archie out of the back seat she booked it for the hanger, leaving you in her dust. You didn’t feel the need to recall her and already knew the rest of the team would be there—sitting around one of the Humvees, pretending to be working on it. The oversized garage doors were pushed open, and when she disappeared through them and into the building you could hear the guys greeting her.

“Hello, pretty girl!” you didn’t need to see him to know it was MacTavish and him putting on the iconic puppy voice, “Who’s a good girl?” he said, knowing damn well the moment Ghost showed up Archie would forget he ever existed. 

Then Price’s voice, “Archie,” followed by playful barking. They were definitely riling her up, “Where’s your mom, huh?” 

Before you rounded the corner you knew she was running in a circle, greeting each and every one of them, expecting a pat and scratch. When she saw you enter after her, she barked once in acknowledgment, before continuing her rounds. 

You took a seat in the circle, jumping into the conversation they were having before they arrived. Much to your surprise, they were significantly dirty; so they were actually working on the Humvee before this. 

Archie disappeared further into the hanger, doing a quick perimeter check. Obviously, she was looking for a certain someone. When she came back, too soon, it meant that Ghost wasn’t around, so she was making do with her second favourite, Soap. She was on her back, exposing her belly for rubs. To which Soap obliged, as it was his end goal to overthrow Ghost. 

You looked around, “Where is Ghost?” It was strange that he wasn’t here. It was near the end of the day on a Friday. Usually, they all met up for the last few hours to bullshit before heading out for drinks. 

At the sound of his name, Archie perked up, looking to you for confirmation. When she realized he still wasn’t here she turned her attention back to Soap. Whom frowned at you, “You’re not supposed to bring him up.”

“He and Gaz took twenty-two out for a test drive,” Price checked his watch and then rocked back in his seat with a frown, “Should have been back by now though.”

22 was the other Humvee that was normally parked in the hangar, a “22” stencilled onto the side of the hood. 22 was a “Project of Passion���, given to the 141 as a joke a year ago. The damn thing didn’t start when we first got it. But the guys saw it as an offence and vowed to get it back on the road. 

His ears must have been burning because shortly after you asked, you heard the rumble of the vehicle approaching. It pulled into the open space before someone killed the engine, and the doors slammed shut.

“Fucking piece of shit.” 

That was definitely Ghost. 

Archie sprung up from her spot at Soap's feet, meeting up with Ghost as he emerged around the back of the Humvee. He was using a rag to wipe something off his hands angrily when his entire demeanour changed,  “Hey, Archie-girl,” he dropped to one knee, getting down to her level to give her a good scratch behind the ear. She was wagging her tail so hard that her entire body swayed with it. Her mouth was open as she panted in excitement. 

Soap leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, sulking. 

Ghost stood back up. That would be all the attention he would give Archie and it was like he gave her the moon, “Engine nearly blew up,” at some point, he had taken off his jacket, and was wearing just a green t-shirt. His arms were stained black from car oil. He walked back to 22 and this time everyone followed after him, curious as to what the issue was. 

The jacket hanging over the open window was all the evidence you needed to know why he had taken it off. The black stains on his arms mirrored those on his jacket. Only way worse. 

Both you and Soap had to avoid eye contact with each other or you’d probably laugh right in Ghost’s face. 

The hood was propped up already and Gaz was bracing his weight on it as he leaned forward, looking exasperated. 

You jumped up onto the work table to watch them contemplate what to do next. Soap asked a question and both Ghost, and Gaz groaned. Ghost invited Soap to take a look underneath the vehicle, the two of them sliding beneath it so only their bottom halves were visible. 

Archie joined them. 

Immediately. And enthusiastically.

She crouched low and inched herself until she was right next to Ghost. She didn’t interrupt him as he explained what he was thinking was wrong to Soap. When they came back out Archie again followed them. 

After an hour of back and forth, they decided to give it up for the day. Sitting back around in a circle, Archie had squeezed herself between Ghost’s feet and the chair, her head resting on his shoe. She was alert and watching everyone around her, but she was calm. 

You silently noticed how Ghost kept his foot extra still, careful not to disturb the pup. 

Admittedly, the sight of him being so attentive to her presence did something to you. There was a little bit of history between you and Ghost, but both of you agreed that getting attached to each other in this line of work could be dangerous. Torturous, even. Although you no longer actively seek him out, you still have feelings for him. 

Archie must have sensed all that and made a dog-equivalent bond with him. 

You shared that same peace and excitement when around him.  

Gaz

It was the next day and Gaz was given the day off. Why? Because he requested it? Why? Because it was Yogi’s birthday. 

Gaz had taken Yogi to get a cut and groom, a pup cup, and then let him run wild in the pet store. When they came home at the end of the day, Yogi was wearing a little blue bandana from the groomers and Gaz was carrying a bag full of toys and chewies.

“Oh my goodness,” you exclaimed upon seeing the Yogi, crouching to his level to get a better look at him, “Aren’t you the most handsome boy.”

When it was time for dinner, Gaz had given Yogi his own “plate”. He went so far as to garnish it with a milk bone.  

Now it was 9 p.m. and you and Gaz sat on either side of the couch. His legs propped up on the ottoman, his ankles crossed. An arm draped over the back of the sofa, his other hand resting atop your dog, mindlessly petting him. You played with the end of his tail. If only because that was all you could reach without having to splay across the sofa. 

You were halfway through your movie when you had an epiphany.  

“He’s hardly my dog anymore,” you frown, waving a hand at the scene in front of you. 

Gaz lazily turned his head over to you, “Hmm?”, Then he followed your gaze to the dog on his lap, “Oh. He hasn’t been your dog for a while,” he said matter-of-factly and gave your senior dog a pat on the shoulder to add emphasis. 

Yogi’s tail begins to wag, beating you in the leg with it. It was like adding salt to a wound. You raised Yogi from when he was 8 weeks old. He was now 10 and his brown fur had long since turned grey around his face. 

He’s known Gaz for all of 3 years.

They must have made a little boy pact at some point during those three years because there was no clear day or moment Yogi stole his heart back from you and gave it to Gaz…

“Don’t say that,” you glared over at him, “he’s my baby.” 

Gaz smiled, “Nah. He’s a big boy,” he moved to scratch under his jaw, right where he liked it most, “Yogi’s a man. A man-dog.” 

…That or Gaz was ploying him with threats when you weren’t around. 

Down the hall, the washing machine beeped. Since it was Wednesday, it was Gaz’s turn to do laundry. Most of it being his clothes and uniforms. He tapped on Yogi, signalling for him to get up. Yogi was slow moving but he jumped from the couch, stretching out with a yawn. 

You paused the movie so Gaz wouldn’t miss any while he was switching laundry, “Yogi…” you said in the saddest, most pathetic voice you could muster when the old dog started after your boyfriend; all too willing to abandon you on the couch. He looked back at you and began to make his way back to you. Without a doubt, it was out of obligation and not want. 

“Yogi,” his name was echoed down the hall. 

That was it took and the dog carried on down the hall. 

“You Judas,” you mumbled to him, knowing he was half deaf. 

And a dog.

Masterlist

A/N - Sorry Gaz's part is so short...I've never really written the guy before :/

Taglist - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎  @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0 

[bleachedjuice]

'To Whom the Bells Toll' pt2

Heyyyy so yeah delayed posting on my end and Tumblrs end. Sorry about that 😭

Enjoy 🙈

Warnings:foul language, mentions of blood,and gore.

With each sharp crunch of ice and snow beneath our feet. It left you wishing you had never agreed with Laswell to take this mission. Though You don't think the team nor You had a choice. Laswell had said that National Security was at risk, hence why this task force of yours was created in the first place. You almost feel like she put König with you to test how much bullshit you both can take. Because You where already fed up the moment you had entered the jet and You had to stand next to the giant of a fucking man. You had plenty of time to get to know this man in such a short time... and..

You were sure König could agree.

Maybe that's something you both can agree on.

Russian winter wasn't always the best time to be hiking through the wilderness on the outskirts of the fishing town,but timing and scerecy were of the essence. It was imperative that you had footed the rest of the way on foot for the sake of Russian intelligence being none the wiser.

The icy winds howled past your team as you then departed from 141, König trekking close to your sniper. Lucile untilshe also departed to take a place in the shrouded hillside with a snipers nest.

And then you stopped as you approached the mere outskirts of the town as buildings crept into sight through the thicket of trees.

Then a voice creeped out into your ear piece.

"This Bravo-134 in position."

Then you spoke. Pointing at Jake, one of your other members, and Maxwell. Your medic. And then König and motioned them to go left.

"This is Bravo 0-2 sending 0-8 and 12-3 your way sight on left along with 141s boy"

You could feel eyes dagger into your back as you ignored them. Hearing their boots straught out of ear sight.

"This is Bravo 0-2, 0-6 and I are moving out"

Serena.

Your second in command was Jake, but Serena was quieter.

And you needed silence.

And she needed it.

They had the "diversion," and you had you utter rumble of a breath in your chest.

"This is Bravo 0-2, going in with right side team."

"Roger than, 141s boy out."

A thick Austrian voice.

Fuckinb König.

And in you went.

Sniper nests broke into your sight as you both crept with a light jog until the whizzing sounds of a snipers bullet sipped the airs silence until light thuds sounded out..

Atta'girl Lucile.

Your feet broke out into a run, Serena shadowing you before she broke into your left side. Seemingly like dogs, you flew with harsh glints in your eyes

Then, you grabbed your gun and slid to the left side of the fenced area, finding its way to be strapped to your back. You tore wire cutters out of your left hip and snipped the fence open before plowing through the loose netting of the fence and into the camp you went.

And your gun found its way into your hands and with a quick eye, and with the assistance of the darkness, you clipped a silencer onto your gun, and off you and your partner went.

And all hell broke loose.

An explosion sounded on your left, causing you to shove Serena to the right behind a few crates as gun fire broke out. A grunt escaped from her as she then got up and started returning fire. And quick work your gaze made of some of the ground of Russians at this out post of a fishing village. Motioning to the group you ducked as she kept returning fire and ducking from it you crept to the right side of the gate,hugging it ad your crept closer and closer until two grenades gripped themsleves Into your hands and the clips sank itself into your teeth as you pulled them off and whipped them right at the group. And down you ducked.

"GRENA-"

A loud boom erupted into your ears that turned into ringing, and the sight of a light yellow came and went as it quickly came. But the smell causes your nose to quickly recoil to shallower breaths and something splattered over you and onto your face..and a couple thud echoed out into the air that now was silent.

"BRAVO 0-6 HOW COPY"

"STEADY AND WELL"

Good.

You then crept out of the hiding spot, your gun raised and poised to be fired at any given moment until the sight you saw beheld you to a sick satisfaction.

The smell of metalic crept out as you saw pinkish colors of someone's lower body and grey military pants now soaked with blood darkened to a reddish black, the part of the spine showed mixed with the intestines, severed and reddened through their pink shade and moistened texture, the right leg still twitched with nerves still thrusting through its systems. Blood scattered and practically soaked the concrete. Someone arm lay close by, bodies contorted in motion and missing pieces.

And then a groan erupted, causing your head to whip to the left, cocking to the side as Serena came into view on your right in your peripheral vision.

A soldier, male, laid trapped beneath a piece of shrapnel, his arm lay trapped beneath a sharper piece, evidently about to fall off at any given moment but still connected to the bone and nervous system as flimsy flesh held it together.

Approaching the soldier a badge caught your vision.

Commander.

Your eyes narrowed as you squated above the man in the dark. The street light that dimmed yellow was the only thing that masked the whitened, terrified gaze of the man in front of you as you spoke.

"Where is Hassan."

Hos gaze narrowed as he spat at you before mumbling something to you in Russian and on mere reflection of the moment you then stood up and pressed your foot against the tender wound.And he cried out and weakly pried with his other hand to try and push you off of his arm,writhing like a fucking worm.

Pathetic.

"I'll give you one more chance soldier. Where is Hassan."

Nothing, and then with a tight pressure of your foot you pressed down to hear a ripping noise come from this man's arm.

And then he broke.

With a pained gasp he broke out into a mumbled babble of a whimpered broken sentence before he repeated it. Clearer. Shorter.

"The D-do cking house awaiting pick up.."

The docks. Not far from here.

Pursing your lips, you released your foot from his arm to hear a relieved gasp come from him as he panted vigorously and spasmed against the relief from the wound. And then you cooed mockingly at him.

"That wasn't so hard was it? Now..let me"

Breaking yourself off, you then placed your foot against the sharp shrapnel that pierced the arm. And you pushed,and a pleasingly crack broke out into the night as the man screamed..

"Give you a hand."

A clean cut. A splattering noise made its way into your ears as his now dismembered arm flopped limply to the side. Oozing blood... and the bone slightly peaking.

He seemed relived.. and then pure utter horror broke out onto the man's face, and a scream went to make itself out of his pain wracked body. Until Serena brandished a blade and made quick work of his jugular as blood sputtered and scattered onto your boots and her arm.

Motioning her to move out, you both jogged quickly, leaving the now twitching body of the soldier on the ground in the concrete light.

"This is Bravo 0-2, Hassan is located on the docks awaiting pick up. I repeat, revendous quickly to the Docks!"

And with that, you broke out into a quick sprint, the dirt and concrete stone roads before your two whipped around the corner and into the docking area, guns drawn as you slammed into the docking buildings door. Shattering it beneath your weight as your guns ready to fire as you creeped through the building until one small creek made your body whip around, just enough to the point a bullet zipped past your head,causing you to stumble back and twist behind a pile of crates, Serena taking spot In a neighboring sack of something. The air stunk of gun powder and fish...and then with your back to the crates, your gaze caught sight of something...the Missile.

You then gritted your teeth before whipping up around the crates before releasing rapid fire, your teeth bared as a shout erupted from the air. And then a thud... you continued watching the men fall... gaurds.

You then turned to face Serena only to find her writhing on the ground, gripping at her chest. Your face dropped into shock as your heart pounded into your chest. You felt the color drain from your face until you threw yourself next to her,cradling her upper body onto your lap as your shouted into the comms..

"THIS IS BRAVO 0-2, WE HAVE A SOLDIER DOWN AND WE HAVE LOCATED THE MISSILE. I REPEAT WE HAVE LOCATED THE MISSILE AND HAVE A SOLDIER DOWN.."

Fuck...

You then took out your first aid kit and took out gauge and tried pressing it to stop the bleeding until sputtered breaths broke into her used to be staggering breaths..blood leaked through her nostrils and mouth as she struggled to speak.

"Nonono...No! Fuck, Serena save your strength.."

And then, with a strong grip, she spoke. Her gaze blazing with acceptance and a look of determination...

"Sh-shoot..mmnnn.."

With a groan of pain, you went to say something as she spoke..

"Shoot the fucker down...."

And with that she limply gripped her dogtags off and ripped them with what was left of the strength in her strong but shaking limbs..and shoved them into your chest,and then your held her shaking hand..

"You're gonna be okay Serena.. You're gonna be ok -"

You heard one last shallow breath escape her shell of what she used to be and then nothing...

"Serena?..."

Your face then broke Into its used to be harsh look...

"Serena!"

No....

Looking up at the ceiling, a harsh bite hit your bottom lip as you blinked back tears as you shakily spoke into comms. As the footsteps broke into your line of sound...and then stopped...

"This is Bravo 0-2.. Serena is down. Requesting back up from left side group to retrieve the body and then locate the boat in which Hassan is in.."

Capture or kill.

Then Jake's voice broke out into the Docking house..

"We're here, Max, get the Blood prepared for trasfu-"

before he stopped... and saw the sigh of a now limp and dead Serena in your arms with your hands still gripping the bloodied gauze to her chest with a shaking grip...

"Scheisse.."

Looking at them from the corner of your eye,you then spoke bitterly. Nonchalantly... like nothing had happened.

"Jake, Maxwell, Take the boat out to Lucile and then transport to the chopper point."

"But-"

"Jake."

With a harsh tone, Max nudged Jake before he nodded to you and approached the body. Of what she used to be. And then took her head off of your lap and gently placed it onto the floor..your pants and arms soaked with blood. Her blood.

Fuck.

"Me and König will find Hassan and take him out and then cripple the Missile. Now go.."

With a knod, Maxwell hoisted the limo body of your guys comrade, and with Jake, they left. Her dogtags are still tight in your hands before you swiftly yanked them onto your head before tugging it under your gear. And then approached the Missile. König standing gaurd outside of the Docking Building as you made swift work of cutting wires that needed to be cut in the Missile. Before jamming a blade into its wiring panel. Making it unfixable. Pulling your blade out and then shoving it back into your sheath you then spoke..

"Let's go..."

Shoving past the mountain of a man, you then heard him mumble something directed to you, ignoring it. You then looked at the three ships on the docks...

Two seemed to be abandoned small Russian military boats and the other a normal fishing boat.

"I got the the two on the left, take the one of the right."

With a glare to the side of your eye, you watched him solemnly nod to you..huh...

Barging into the first deck of one of the military boats and turning your flashlight on, before whipping around the corner around the front part of the deck and made your way to the front part of the ship, toward the bow. And then rounded to the steering amd control area of the boat..nothing.

Heading out of the boat, you spoke hushed into the comms between you and König, "Clear. Checking second now"

"Roger."

Spiffy. Asshole. Scoffing, you then headed toward the fishing boat and hopped into the back deck before searching the captains area. And then rounded it and found it to be clear.. before you creeped onto the front deck on the right and approached the edge of the boat... and checked the water for anything...

And felt a rush of footsteps only to round your footing to release two quick shots from your gun only for the figure to just blindly leap at you and slam into you,your gun was flung out of your hand,and slammed onto the deck with a bang as you felt the edge of the boat soon become nothing but air as the cold harsh thwack of the thin ice break with your weught and water below strike you and envelop you into darkness as you made out a figure...and then the familiar face...Hassan.

Bleeding from two wounds in his side, you both blindly tangled away and toward each other as your staggered back with quick thrush of your legs only for him to rush a quick burst of a swim and slam you into the rough edged of one of the concrete pillars holding up the dock..and then a glint met your eyes as you ducked, the quick sharp split of the knife zipped through the air before your pistol hidden in your boot found its way into your hands a up It went up against the thrashing Hassan..and then a bang...

Blood enveloped your vision as he then stopped moving. Then you watched as the whites of his eyes roll to the back of his eyes before you kicked his sinking figure away from you as you discarded your now ruined pistol, feeling the cold shock through you as your lungs screamed. .. clawing to the surface, you then broke the top of the thin iced water coughing and clawing limply at the ice toward the dock to try and climb it or even grab its edge to pull you up... only to feel yourself slip on the ice, and it breaks under your thrashing weight and paddling swimming strides..

And the cold shocked through your body, causing you to shiver until a large hand grappled your right arm and pulled you out of the water with a hoisted Grunt until your "hero" unceremoniously tossed you on the deck as you shuttered and caught your breath..

König. And in silence, he crouched next to you, gasping figure as the cold enveloped your every sense and figure.

"What happened?"

"Fucker rushed me on my blind side... and down we went. Now, if you don't mind my prince in shining armor, I'd like to not freeze to death."

With a scoffed chuckle, he threw your gun at you before he yanked you to your feet just as your gun was in your grip. And without warning, he began to stride into a sprint. Even with the thick, shrouded clothing you wore. It was soaked. And heavy. And slowly feeling like an icy tomb on your end.

And with a shaking breath you shouted as you ran.

"THIS IS BRAVO 0-2 I AM ICED AND FREEZING MY FUCKING BALLS OFF WITH KÖNIG, MISSILE HAS BEEN DISARMWD BEYOND REPAIR AND HASSAN IS DOWN. AWAITING PICK UP AT DOCKS EDGE"

Then, a familiar voice broke out. Prices.

Good fucking God.

"Roger than Captain Y/N, Choppers already on its way"

Scoffing, as you both stopped and waited for pickup.. which seemed only a mere moment as the chopper broke out into sight...and With a quick movement it lowered and you and König hauled ass to the chopper, leaping into the chopper , you dare not look at the sheet that covered Serenas body as Price shot you a sorry look. And then he watched you shiver as the cold air, basically going to catch hypothermia if he delayed giving the pilot the ok to fly out...

And off you went, and out you spaced as you realized that she was gone...for good...and as if he sensed it, König found his way next your figure and sat down next to your shivering figure and patted your back teasingly.

"Yeah yeah piss off König."

"Ah, but then you'd miss the mere presence of me."

"Fuck you."

"Vielleicht nehme ich das Angebot an."

"Yeah whatever you said."

And in silence, you both sat as the chopper made its way to base...

Once the chopper landed, you practically had defrosted after changing areas and thermal seasons. Now you were a dry damp. And here you were, watching as people who took care of the soldiers dying on the field or while still in service take her away...

They took your statement of what happened while in action before questioning her dogs tags before explaining to them what happened. And then they left.

Leaving you damp,wet, and numb.

You hated this. Gaining a member, and then losing someone to something. You now went from a pack of 5. To 4. And Laswell won't recruit anyone else to your team. Saying it's not needed.

You felt a hand on your shoulder before you shoved it off and turned around. König.

"I'm fine"

Hissing the words, you rushed away, no stalked away from everyone else, and threw your guns into your room and discarded your gear on the floor before rushing into a shower in the personal showers in the barracks before getting into a pair of sweat and a clean pair of boxers and socks...and laid in bed. .staring at the ceiling...numb.

Fuck.

[rainchyna]

𓆩♡𓆪 episode six: IT BEGINS.

HEHE this episode is a major L ngl but look i had to add hunter one way or another he’s so fucking hot oh my god yo smut warning btw LMAO ,, anyways, the y/n fanboy club will only expand from here so get ready yall all the boys and girls wanna kiss y/n

10:31 am, at the hotel.

it was in the air.

what was ‘it’?

chaos.

chaos was in the air.

ever since your promo with The Undertaker last week, it felt like you were sitting on a volcano waiting to erupt.

you were put in several storyline that got cancelled, had three separate gimmick changes pitched, two underdeveloped love angles, twelve - you counted - times you almost turned heel, and you almost got yourself and Shawn suspended for a fight you had backstage.

fun, exciting even, to say the least.

Lita almost got dropped off of Taker’s team because of an injury she got during a house show, Owen had twisted his ankle, and Steve and Bret were now in a feud within the Taker-Y/n angle and Sherri and Luna seemed to be wrestling each other in every house show.

Vince was clearly beginning to lose his sanity bit by bit everyday and it was showing. he fired and rehired six wrestlers and twenty staff members in the same hour, almost completely cancelled you and Taker’s feud and allegedly - has been in talks with some ex WCW guys to sign in them with the WWF, since WCW seemed to be stealing all the top stars he had.

one of the WCW guys that came was Hunter Hearst Helmsley. you’ve always seen him around, but nothing ever stuck. he’s pretty cool, sweet guy, very much talented. you two only began building a friendship after his debut, he was the new comer who was trying to make his way through the company.

several people advised him to get to know you if he wanted to get to the top, after all no one knows how to jump to the top of the mountain like you do. but also, he was advised to befriend Shawn as well.

swell.

poor Hunter, he quickly found himself being the middleman in you and Shawn’s bullshit. he wound up quickly befriending Chyna as well since she was the middleman in your shit as well.

fuck it. new friend group, why not? maybe being friends with Shawn will shut him up.

“’fuck are you looking at?” Shawn asks.

or not.

“did I say a fucking a thing?” you ask.

Chyna groans putting her fork down, “here we go again..” Hunter mutters. all four of you were trying to have breakfast as a friends, a way to get to know Hunter better and to make him feel welcomed. but god forbid Shawn lets you exist in peace.

“quit staring at me” Shawn huffs and you raise your eyebrows, “that’s rich coming from the guy who calls me pretty all the time” you cross your arms. “so what? do you not like compliments?” he asks. “don’t you?” you counter.

“what does that have to do with anything?” he asks, “what if i’m looking at you trying to compliment you?” you snicker.

“then compliment me.” he crosses his arms.

“trash bag hoe.” you smile.

“one meal. can we have one meal in peace?” Chyna says through gritted teeth. “how are you guys always fighting?” Hunter asks.

sweet, innocent, baby Hunter. hasn’t seen a thing yet.

Chyna chuckles, “should’ve seen them when they first met”.

“anyways” you look Shawn up and down before diverting your attention to Hunter, “nitro boy!” you run your hand up his muscular bicep, “what do you bring to the company?”

“well, youth hopefully? a bit sick of Hogan, Warrior and the rest” Hunter answers. “tell me about it” Shawn mutters.

“you’re pretty good, I’ve seen some of your matches” Chyna comments, “thank you!” Hunter smiles.

Hunter was Vince’s ideal type of male wrestler. 6 foot 3 inches tall, muscular as fuck, blond, beautiful and coquettish, hm…

you couldn’t deny, the man was attractive. very attractive.

Hunter on the other hand, was unintentionally giving you the eyes, unintentionally! he didn’t mean to, but you yourself were … oh god, you were something.

you weren’t exactly paying attention to what he was saying, nor were Chyna and Shawn. Chyna was more focused on eating her breakfast that you and Shawn’s bickering stopped her from, and Shawn… well. He was more focused on the look Hunter was giving you.

Shawn has made it very clear, several times, that he wants you - or to at least sleep with you - but here you were giving his friend all your attention. he’s known you for longer! and he’s hotter! what makes Hunter better than him?

the look on Shawn’s face was unmatched. he was jealous and he couldn’t hide it, at all.

“y’all wanna go out later?” Chyna asked without a mouthful, “yeah, why not.” Shawn said forcing a smile. “there’s a club down the block if y’all wanna head there” you suggest. “yeah, that’s sounds nice” Hunter smiles. “I’ll call Scott and Kev, they’ll really like you, Hunt.” Shawn says.

“Chy, you wanna workout?” Shawn asks, and the dark haired girl looks at him like he just asked the impossible. “I can never understand how you eat a big meal then immediately got to the gym. bro, I’m ready to take a nap” Chyna leans back in her seat. “i’ll walk with you there though” she adds.

“y’all coming?” Shawn asks as he and Chyna get up. Hunter shakes his head, “I think we’ll stay here a bit longer..” Hunter looks at you, hand hovering over yours. Chyna gives you a knowing smirk while Shawn clenches his jaw.

alright then.

4:44 pm, the girls’ room.

“where have you been?” Lita asked, you close the door behind you and walk into the flat. “breakfast down in the hotel restaurant” you answer. you sit on the couch opposite the t.v. “why are you laying in the floor?” you ask.

she shrugs, “I don’t know, it’s kinda comfortable” she replied. “but your ankle..?” you begin, “it’s fine, don’t worry about it” Lita waved. “wait…” she sits up. you look at her.

“it’s almost five right now, what are you doing at ‘breakfast’ this late?” Lita asked.

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“dude, they stop serving breakfast at eleven” she explained, “and I know damn well you weren’t down there with Shawn”.

you bite back a smile and Lita instantly gets it.

“oh my god” her eyes lit up, “oh my god it’s Hunter isn’t it” she laughs, “maybe..” you mumble. if Lita could jump and do a backflip she would, she knew it. she’s seen the way Hunter interacts with you, she just knew he had a thing for you.

“what did I say!?” she laughs, you roll your eyes as a small smile forms on your lips. “yeah, yeah, you told me, whatever” you say.

“what’s going on?”, you look towards the room behind you, Chyna was shuffling her way out, rubbing her eyes. “you actually slept?” you ask. she yawns, stretching her arms before flopping besides Lita on the floor. “man, I could barely open my eyes” she groggily says. “what are y’all talking about?” she asks.

“Hunter has a crush on y/n!” Lita excitedly answers, “hey! no he doesn’t!” you say. Chyna chuckles, “pfft, he totally does” she says nudging Lita’s shoulder. “you should’ve seen the way they were looking at each other breakfast” Chyna adds.

“okay but have you seen the guy? he’s so hot” you say, both girls smirk at you and you roll your eyes again. you groan with a smile, “ugh, we’re going out later, i’m taking my chances to be honest” you say.

“damn y’all leaving me here?” Lita sarcastically remarked, “oh I’ll carry you on my back if you want, baby” Chyna laughs, “for real though, you need to have him wrapped around your finger” Lita says. “maybe Shawn will leave you alone” she adds.

you hum, “I mean, his friend likes you, I think that should be enough for him to leave you alone” Chyna explains.

Shawn Michaels? leaving you alone? and you get to have a fine man around your finger?

“sign me up honestly”

“i’m hungry” Lita groaned, “me too” you agree. Chyna stands up and stretches again, “weren’t you in the hotel restaurant just now?” she ask, you nod. “they stopped serving, me and Hunter were just talking” you answer.

“they should be serving lunch by now though” Lita picked up a menu that was sitting by the t.v and examined it. “sushi! what do we think?” she asked.

<<5:20 pm>>

“I underestimated how much there will be” Lita said. there was an entire wooden boat that was at least a metre long filled with sushi placed on the kitchen isle. “what did you expect? the menu said ‘sushi boat’” Chyna said sitting on a stool. “we’ll I didn’t expect this much!” Lita said handing you and Chyna chopsticks.

“let me tell y’all about this shit I heard the other” Lita says as you begin to eat. you sat next to Chyna and looked at Lita. “the other day, me and Owen were talking shit about people” she begins.

“per usual” Chyna laughs, “and apparently the Shawn-Sunny thing is picking up again” she says “HM?” you hum with a mouthful and Chyna’s eyes widen. “I know!” she laughs.

“again?” Chyna asks, “we doin this shit again?” she sounds unimpressed. “the locker room is already in shambles, we don’t need this” you say cocking you head. “I know! and also-”

“oh my god, there’s more!?” Chyna asks, “baby that’s your friend” Lita points at her, “he’s the messy one here” she adds. “also, allegedly, allegedly, Shawn is only doing this because a certain someone keeps rejecting him and he wanted to make her jealous” she explains.

both girls look at you and your head falls to your palm, “he deadass needs to give up, like seriously” you sigh. “asking Shawn to stop being a man whore is like asking the earth to stop spinning, trust me I’ve seen some shit” Chyna says.

“what is it with Sunny too? isn’t she and Candido married?” you ask. “mhm” Lita hums again, “she’s a messy bitch and honestly, bring the drama, Vince needs some controversy right now” you say. “not that type of drama though, what the hell” Chyna says.

you three continue gossiping about things you’ve seen and heard this week but the conversation somehow rolled back to you and Hunter.

“I’m considering seriously having him, or at least having him on the side” you say, “I feel like that’ll cause drama too” Chyna says, “how?” you ask.

“well, you know, Shawn isn’t the only one who kinda really really wants you in the locker room…” she said.

“oou, who else?” Lita excitedly asks, “have y’all seen that guy.. uhm.. Rocky! that one!” Chyna says, “Rocky Maiavia or something like at”

you frown a bit, you’ve heard that name backstage, but you couldn’t remember what he looked like.

“there’s also Al Snow, apparently when you first came he couldn’t stop talking about how hot you were and him and Bret almost go into it” Lita comments. “why am I the last person to find out?” your frown gets deeper, “I though that was common knowledge?” Lita questions.

“babe, there’s so many more. Billy Gun, Matt and Jeff, Brain Pillman…”

as the names kept piling up, you immediately noticed that these were people Shawn got into fights with frequently. it has to be because they liked you. it has to be.

when is it going to click that he’s never making it to the final cut?

9:39 pm, the girls’ room.

you woke up disoriented. you didn’t recall going into a room nor falling asleep. you moved your leg and it hit something stiff, you sit up and look around you. the clock opposite the bed was barely visible. you look at what your leg hit, Chyna’s hip.

you look back at the clock, one hand pointed to the nine and the other to the forty minute mark.

damn it’s nine p.m?

you scratch your shoulder and look over to the other bed, Lita was also laying motionless. you cartoonishly smack your lips and rub your eyes, it took a couple minutes for you open them fully and only then did it click to you.

damn it’s nine p.m!

“oh my fucking god” you muttered.

you’re supposed to go out with Hunter! and Chyna and Shawn too.. but here you both were.

you pat on Chyna’s shoulder, then you begin patting aggressively, now you were violently shaking her. she groaned and sat up.

“what are you doing?” she groggily asks, you quickly cover her mouth and point to Lita who was still asleep.

you both tiptoe outside into the living room, “when did we fall asleep?” Chyna asks flopping onto the couch, you quickly grab her arm and pull her away from the couch. “I don’t remember either, but c’mon, we’re going out with Hunter! … and Shawn! him too..” you squeal.

“uuuggghhh” Chyna slowly falls to the ground, “I’m so tttiiirrreeeddd” she whines, “but I wanna get dddrrruuunnnkkk” she whines again making you laugh.

both of you make your way to the other bedroom and quickly shower as Chyna picks out outfits for both of you.

it wasn’t long before you were drying up and slipping into your outfit, and you must admit. Chyna has an incredible sense of fashion.

your corset top pushed up your breasts and it wouldn’t be that hard for anyone to see your cleavage, you mini skirt was as mini as ever. a mini skirt should be the size of a belt, and that wasn’t exactly how short it was but it was quite short. your heels made your legs look longer and pulled your outfit together.

you looked good, per usual.

you applied your makeup and quickly curled two piece of your hair at the front to frame your face, you put on your earrings and grabbed your red bag, “you ready?” Chyna asks and she fixes her hair, “yup!” you nod.

<<10:43>>

the place was obviously noisy, after all people come here to get drunk. Hunter wasn’t letting you go at all, from the moment you walked in his arms clung to your hips, and compliments seemed to naturally leave his mouth.

Scott and Kevin kept complimenting you too, you were really fucking hot. exactly how Shawn described you to them over the phone, the saw exactly why Shawn wanted you so badly.

something about you was so alluring, you had this attractiveness to you, they were attracted to you. they couldn’t tell if it was your eyes … or lips… whatever it is! Hunter’s hands on you sent a clear message to them, especially to Shawn. Shawn was chatting up some random girl he just happened to see, he wasn’t even pretending to care about what she was saying.

he was staring looking at you, sitting comfortably on Hunter’s lap, giggling and smiling against his chest. he can feel this heavy feeling of … something … he wouldn’t call it jealousy, it was straight up envy.

why him? why Hunter? Shawn wanted you, but you were giving Hunter what he wanted.

you really liked Hunter. he was so sickeningly sweet, very gentlemanly, the compliments never seemed to stop. he was spoiling you a lot too, he brought with him a little Tiffany and Co bag, gifting you a gorgeous necklace. he filled your cups, drink after drink, from the most expensive ones with names that were hard to pronounce to the ones that tasted like a broke student’s frat party.

his lips would’ve dripped of honey with how much sweet words were coming out them.

he pulled you closer to him, his hands kept rubbing over your thighs, and hovering over your neck and waist. the place was dark so no one could see what he was doing, unless they were focused on you which would be weird, but for the most part, his touches went unseen.

“your skirt is really short, angel” he spoke into your ear, something about that sent to you into a fight or flight mode. Scott and Kevin were arguing loudly over and game of cards, you look over at the bar and Shawn was ordering a drink for himself and Chyna who was now sitting in the girls’ place.

“mhm” you hummed, Hunter’s large hand slowly slid up your skirt. “wanna go somewhere private?” he asked, you look around you one more time, no one gives a fuck. so why would you?

you straddle him, turning to face him. wrapping your arms around his neck you kiss him deeply, his arms pull on your waist bringing you closer to him. you unconsciously grind on his thigh. “I’ll take that as a yes” he breathlessly says, the ‘innocent’ kissing goes on for a while before you’re interrupted by Kevin announcing that he’ll go get more drinks.

Hunter pulls you off of him as he stands up, taking your hand in his. he dragged you to the darkest corner of the club, you could see everyone from this angle but no one can see you.

Hunter’s leg pushes yours open you continue making out again. his hands guided your hips to grinding on his thigh, his hand slipped up your skirt again but this time he gripped on your panties. he can easily rip them off, so he did.

“Hunter..” you whimper, your pussy felt uncomfortably hot. the rough fabric of his jeans pushing and pulling against your clit. “you got it baby, c’mon” he encouraged directly in your ear, “so pretty for me”.

you wanted to fuck him, for more than one reason. one them being that your could tell by his voice that he was one to whimper, probably verbally vocal too.

Hunter could feel a wet patch form over his pants, it was such a turn on for him. “you know” he began, ever since your debut match, I kinda developed a crush on you” he confessed, “the way you were so effortlessly throwing Alundra around made me wanna .. uhm h-have you..” he trailed off.

you pull his hand down to your waist again, your other hand climbing up to his cheek gently caressing it. “have me what, Hunter?” you ask. Hunter gulps, nervously he leans is a kisses you again. you push him away from you and push him back against the wall your were once at. his hands immediately fly back to your waist, “answer me” you say.

“I want to you fuck me” he breaths out, “I want you control me and throw me around too, I wanna be yours to play with” he confesses again. you smirk, well this should be fun.

“oh yeah?” you ask, he nods. you look up at him, he’s so pretty. “how bad do you want me?” you ask, Hunter grabs your hand and places it right in front of his clothed boner, you could’ve sworn you felt it throb and twitch at your touch.

“really, really bad” Hunter whimpered.

bingo! you knew he was the type to whimper.

the only time you stop by the little booth you were sat in was to grab your bag, Hunter was eagerly pulling you away from everyone. he was really horny, almost unbearably, and you’ve barely done anything. his mind ran wild with ideas of what you’ll do to him.

Shawn’s eyes found you once more, he watched closely as you and Hunter held hands and walked out of the club, both of you smiling.

he looked down at his drink, wondering what was he doing wrong. “you okay?” Chyna asks, yet Shawn, never answered.

[coachtfd]

Oh maaaan please lemme tell you: I’ve been a United fan more than 20 years and been through thick and thin with the club and it will always be like this. I will always support United and no one else. But at the same time I genuinely DO NOT enjoy watching United for a VERY long time. It’s not the lack of trophies for me personally but the fact that our football is so fucking ugly it physically hurts to watch. We are so poor at footballing activities it boggles the mind! Even against dead last Southampton we were poor as fuck but I wasn’t even surprised because that’s been our standard for a while. Our football is outright unwatchable and if I was a little kid right now I sure as hell would not fall in love with this sorry excuse of a football club. I had huge hopes for Ten Hag but I’m so fed up with him now I can’t stand to look at him nor listen to his bullshit interviews anymore. He has been here for 2 years and he’s done fuck all in my book. And I swear to god I didn’t expect him to win the fucking prem in his first 3 years but I very much HOPED to see good fucking football and he couldn’t deliver! In 2 years we had like 5 good games when I thought this is it! This is how Manchester United football club should play! The rest? Abysmal performances one after another. One season going down the drain like dirty bath water after another.

Oh and not to mention the moral decay the club is in.. they almost brought Greenw**d back no problem! Like my beloved club that I have been supporting with my heart and soul and my money was on the cusp of reintegrating that pos and only changed plans in the last second when they saw that the reaction to that possibility was far from kind and understanding. Then we have another scandal involving Antony who’s still here and playing despite the allegations against him. Should be out the fucking door ffs but the club didn’t even try to get rid of him. Fuck that!

I’m massively disappointed in this club for several reasons so no I can’t even celebrate a win at this point. Win or lose I just acknowledge it and move on. I think in the last 10 years they managed to kill my love and passion I used to have for football itself. I used to miss events and outings just to catch the famous Man United play but now? Sometimes I even forget to check when we play and if I miss a game I just don’t care. Am I plastic now? Am I fake? Guess I’m just disillusioned and bitter. Oh well.

Ah fuck, this got extremely long, feel free to delete it’s whatever x

There it is, that’s what I wanted to get to. I feel you on all of this, I totally get it. And I don’t blame you for thinking or feeling this way, United has put all of us through the wringer. Some of us way more than others because it’s more than just a sports team to them. It is for me.

I remember when glimpses of United was all I could hope for because they didn’t start showing full games on the regular in the US until I was out of high school. My dad would literally interrupt whatever I was doing if he found out that a game was on. We weren’t very close and didn’t get along very well as I got older, but we had football in common, we had United. I don’t take it for granted that a team named United pulled us together when it felt like just about everything else pushed us apart. He loved their resilience, their never quit attitude. As a West Indian, he loved Dwight York and Andy Cole. So I get your passion, and I understand your anger.

I made a promise to the United fans on here that when I truly felt better times were ahead I would let them know, and I’m doing that now for a reason. I was right when I predicted this dark time we’ve been in and I believe I’m right about it coming to an end. It won’t be this season or the next, but it’s coming. I encourage you to keep hoping and to try to rekindle your love for this incredible club. I once said that every United fan is a winner and winners love supporting each other. You’re a winner, and if our club is going to win the league again it needs your support right now. It’s honestly not about me at all, we’re Manchester United, winning is our way. You can’t keep a winner down forever. 🙂

My inbox is always open. If you ever need to vent about United or life, or just need a shot of encouragement, please feel free to write me…that goes for all of my followers. ❤️ #ggmu

[ninadove]

number 11 for feligami (you know this is an excuse to warm my heart)

I am more than happy to warm your heart! 💜

11. What was their first impression of each other?

The thing with these two is, we actually got many different “first impression” scenes, so prepare for a looong post:

Gabriel Agreste (S4 E9):

Obviously, this little staring contest was building up to something, but we weren’t sure what that was at the time (and I don’t think the writing team knew either).

We don’t get much from this scene except that Kagami immediately sees right through Felix’s bullshit - she doesn’t know what it is about him, but it sure is something. Later in Pretention, we see that she is not afraid to call him out on said bullshit, which we always love.

More interestingly, there’s a form of curiosity in the way she holds his gaze and only breaks eye contact when Chloé starts yelling (as she does), continuing to observe him as he gets up to conduct very important plot business. He might be dangerous at this point in the story, but that doesn’t make him any less fascinating.

As for Felix's side: this encounter reads like a “first draft” of the reaction we get from him in Emotion. Even without knowing that Kagami is a Sentibeing, he senses something familiar in her, which reads a lot like this feeling of shared otherness queer people and abuse survivors often get very early on with each other.

But ultimately, at this point in the story, he is on a mission that takes precedence over everything else in his life. Which leads us to their actual first meeting, as in the actually plot relevant one that has been living in my head rent free since Christmas (what a beautiful gift):

Emotion (S5 E18):

Where do I even start with this one. Well I guess we need to start with the beginning.

Emotion is the continuation of Felix’s arc towards regaining his freedom and safety, and so far he hasn’t cared much about throwing people (including and especially his cousin/twin/clone) under the bus to further its advancement. He has an objective and he knows exactly how he will get to it.

Which is why it is so interesting and fun to see him deviate from his plan, out of to sheer concentrated annoyance (Chloé) or romantic interest (Kagami):

Kagami herself said it best: the kiss was a little too much. There was no reason for Adrien to do that. So what motive could Felix potentially have to go so overboard with his displays of affection? Well it’s simple, really: Kagami has the most gorgeous hazel eyes and the cutest nose and freckles like stardust on her cheeks. Flirting with this pretty girl he had already noticed months ago might be part of the plan, but he’s genuinely having the time of his life doing it.

Then of course he notices the ring.

And suddenly it’s not just about Kagami being the cutest girl he’s ever seen anymore. It’s a confirmation of the ✨ vibes ✨ both of them were picking up on in Gabriel Agreste. Of course, the in-universe implication is that they are both Sentibeings, but it’s not actually about that: it is about Felix recognising the horrifying abuse he’s been subjected to in another person, and desperately wanting to reach out to her.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO:

The Diamond Dance breaks my heart into a billion tiny pieces and puts it back together multiple times a day. I am so normal.

Felix is flirting so hard, because of course he is, and it hurts. Kagami cannot see that he is being sincere, and it’s not just because of Adrien: Perfection and Protection have shown us that she has repeatedly felt like an afterthought not only as a love interest, but also as a friend. Her self-esteem has taken a major hit and she cannot believe that anyone could be interested in her romantically at this point.

Which is utter bullshit because look at this boy:

Getting more and more enamored as he discovers that not only does she understand what he’s been through, she’s also brave, intelligent, honest, and considerate in ways that are completely foreign to him.

The best thing about this scene is how Felix « I lie for fun » Graham de Vanily progressively lets his mask slip around her, letting out more and more truths that cannot just be written off as Adrien getting bolder. Until finally he says the most Felix thing ever:

And this is when we get Kagami’s real first impression of him. When so much honesty from her leads him to take his own mask off. When the plans for rebellion and revenge are quickly abandoned for something more important. When he asks her to run away with him.

Obviously, she likes what she sees.

[okthatsgreat]

I had an odd thought for a Danganronpa-sanctioned opddmh, basically after V3 they force the kids to live with Danganronpa participants for whatever reason and I have to wonder. Who do you think would live with who if it was Team Danganronpa controlling where they went?

HBSHFGB oh my god. danganronpa sitcom spinoffs. big brother-esque reality shows. these people get zero breaks

i mean first and foremost danganronpa prioritises entertainment above all else which means they would be over there scheming what the WORST possible combinations would be. theyd throw in maybe one or two "good" pairings just so the audience isnt too overwhelmed by how much everybody hates each other but FOR THE MOST PART theyd try to cause as much conflict as possible.

which means the most argumentative people have got to get paired together, and the least in common they share the better so hmmmm. pairing somebody up with kokichi who is hotheaded and not tolerant of his bullshit will cause a lot of problems and my immediate first thought is mondo or fuyuhiko LMFAOO. i really can not envision a future where any of them cut through the tension enough to talk about their feelings or whatever, ESPECIALLY in regards to kokichi who needs somebody extremely intelligent to decipher all of his lies. like for example if they put kokichi and junko in the same room or kokichi and celeste there is a chance of recognition there, but NOT with kokichi and mondo/fuyuhiko/AKANE even. that house is VOLATILEEE. frankly it is only kokichi that lives there now because both mondo and fuyuhiko have to walk out of their respective homes before they kill kokichi and/or themselves

honestly i could see danganronpa putting maki and peko together just because they think the two of them would see too much in the other and end up hating each other. and frankly they do at first. and they either ignore the hell out of each other or they get into a heated argument where they both reveal a lot more than they should have and then they move forward from there. if team dr wanted to avoid this they could throw her with somebody far more stubborn and less likely to empathise. maybe byakuya or smth. oooo and yknow what kazuichi would be so scared of her always.

cant see kaito and mahiru getting along that much, tsumugi would be pretty bad news for anybody but i can see her and sayaka getting kinda lost in their personas, himiko and hiyoko would get annoyed with each other pretty immediately. tenko would kill teruteru

as for opddmh characters (that we've seen so far lol) UMMM i think throwing ryoma with somebody like ibuki who is a very optimistic presence could cause a bit of clash, but honestly she might be so persistent that it either causes ryoma to recoil even further into his shell or it somehow changes his life????? ryoma and ibuki might be one of the pairings that team dr makes specifically to bump up morale a bit and turn him into some hope story. but on the opposite end of that spectrum they would NOT hold that same leniency with miu and theyd probably throw her with somebody like taka just to piss the both of them off but not in a way that either of them would be willing to hear the other side out. throwing kirumi with celeste would lead the both of them into a spiral and kirumi would make zero progress with growth, honestly could be extremely similar with kirumi and sonia, throwing angie (ALONE) with quite a few people could be pretty bad. like if angie and mikan were the only two people in that apartment there could definitely be wayyyy more problems than there already is, mostly because mikan is already very susceptible to angies positive influence already. rantaro would be chill with pretty much everybody i cant really lie to you. i reckon just to really highlight his paranoia and send him down that path rather than any kind of healing he should get paired with somebody that is either too closed off and shady (which would cause opddmh rantaro to recoil away from them and likely run off without returning) OR somebody that is gonna keep telling him that his family is out there and he needs to keep searching

so yea FUCKED UP!!!! just to have one last "hopeful" pairing theyd maybe throw shuichi to the naegi household just so he could learn about believing in himself or whatever

[f1stuffblog]

I "love" people like this who have no idea but they talk ! They are not within the team ! They don't know a thing about team's leadership ! They did not even put the time to check, if what they said is truth, because this is bullshit ! Manu stayed with team and talked to the boys after Frankfurt and Thomas went to media ! Did not happen again ever since ! Before he was fcking injured ! He has been there always ever since !!! Always ! Always explaining everything ! Standing by his team and coach ! But media spread this.

This idiots who want to destroy Bayern constantly talk about us despite not knowing anything ! Spreading sh*t all around ! They think that praising Thomas instead of others will break this team or what is it about ?

They don't know a thing about Manu as a leader of this team for years ! What he has done and always did, what he still does ! They are that stupid they even did not notice how much influence he has on everyone around !

They did not break us by attacking Tuchel, by made of news ! They try attack on Manu ! They think Thomas will step up against him because of what he reads in media or what ? That will never happen between them !

But again they think they will break us by attacking Manu ? That Manu who does not give a shit about what media say about him !

How funny that they went after him last year when he stood against baby coach ( doing one of many stupid things he did) but expect him to go against coach now, when team needs him to show trust and support to Tuchel ? Also he was not allowed to speak despite it touched him personally as it was " destroying " the team according to them ! But they only attack this team now ! Same people !

" pseudo" legends of German football have mouth full of Manu and this team despite they can not compare to him football or leading wise even combined ! Unlike them he is a legend and very rightful captain of this team ! So interesting he was voted in every single team he has played for ! All people being around him daily were wrong but German media are the owners of the truth 🤦‍♀️

Not saying Tomi would make any worse captain than Manu ! Just saying his leadership is very different ( for the first time I feel that those people seem offended by Thomas not being captain despite all Manu has done..well congrats they now belong to that small group of idiots still shouting against him= something Tomi does not give a fuck about who has that stupid armband on the arm ). And Manu was chosen for very clear reasons !

Manu's silent and calm leadership is very different to Thomas and his extroverted and loud self. Though it does need both of them and they complement each other perfectly in leading this team out of this situation! It is only good combined and together and who wears armband does not change anything in pair which has so much respect and so big of friendship among themselves!

And definitely who speaks bulshit to media to answer their stupid questions, which get worse and worse daily is so irrelevant that I can't even express it ! It's called dividing duties if those clowns did not understand it !

Thomas is clearly better in speaking to media since Manu is not able to pretend those questions are not BS ! As well as he is obviously pissed by them as his constructive and focused self considers it the time he could use to help this group lost. At best he manages with being ironical or answering seriously but with face that says everything!

Thomas despite being less calmer in general has unbelievable patience with media on the other hand ! So way better suited.

On the contrary Thomas is exactly the type who is that pissed on himself and everyone after lost game, that he can not directly talk to the team because he can not be that calm force which shows it all will get better and calm the emotions ! That's where Manu is exceptional so he steps up there !

Both has lead this team for years and got it through a lot of BS together ! I doubt they need any advice on leadership, how, why or who can do stuff. Why should they change way of work they had since when ? 2016 at least ? Everyone sensible knows Thomas is close to Manu as his right hand ! Everyone knows they have divided duties for years (always) both in Bayern and in die Manschaft! Everyone knows Manu trusts Thomas more than any of his teammates and that he relies on him with many things and same applies vice versa ! That Manu trusts Thomas's leadership and vice versa, that Manu because of that leaves many stuff on Thomas ! Because he knows, he can manage them maybe even better himself based on his personality. Manu was never solo player even in captaining ! Though now he is critisised even for that !

This team might have many problems = but those are called neither Neuer nor Muller and definitely not captains ! ( Yes I use plural because this team has always had 2 even when Philip was doing it Manu had many duties !) Worked very well for years ! Proven with time !

Everyone understands that except of self proclaimed " experts" !

* disclimer = I admit Effenberg was a successful football player = does not mean he knows anything about current Bayern and this also was not only directed on him ! But on media in general

*disclimer 2 Josh is not in possition of any of them ! He is still just prepared to lead this team and he does in a way already, but this is not even his job ! It is his responsibility probably like the one of any other player and despite he does it regularly!

[waveofstars]

PENNY MASON: bio + stats.

click here for statsclick here for pinterest click here for playlist read below for bio.

traits: sensitive, kind, withdrawn, creative, awkward, perfectionist, bookworm, affectionate, stubborn, analytical, determined, ambitious

aesthetic: worn pages, art museums, blazers, messy hair, inked answers of a crossword, too many cups of coffee, a mirrorball & a lover, oversized glasses, oil paints, romance novels, italian countryside, sun bathing, tarot cards & astrology charts, late night conversations, quiet observer

BIO:

They were a team - the five of them. Rosemary, Iris, Penelope, Sage, and their mother Willow. Penelope always wondered why her mother strayed from the theme of floral names when it came to choosing her name, but her mother always defended that the shortened name Penny was close enough to Peony. It felt like she was destined to simply be different from the rest of her family. Raised in rural Tennessee, the Mason clan lived life a bit differently than most around them. They had little to their name other than the inherited few acres of land they lived on. Their father was out of the picture, or perhaps fathers… Penny was never too sure. Even if her sisters could be her half-sisters, it wouldn’t change a thing for her. Penny loved them unconditionally and was able to find some sort of peace in their unorthodox life due to them. Penny was one of the few to realize at a young age that their mother had some substance abuse issues and a hefty addiction to gambling. Their mother hid behind that truth by painting each day like it was an adventure. Their old clothes and small dinners were just an unimportant trait of life. They should be grateful for what they had and should feel so lucky to grow the way they did away from television screens and modernity. That’s what their mother always reminded them, anyways.

The five of them worked together as a team, even when their mother found ways to make money. She was a housekeeper of sorts - someone who cleaned and took care of properties on the nicer side of town. She put her children to work with her, tugging along four kids who all helped by mowing lawns, cleaning gutters, or folding sheets. Penny often envied the people they worked for, and no matter how many times their mother tried to convince her that their life was far better than the folks they cleaned for, she didn’t believe it. She saw through the white lies and exaggerated promises their mother gave. Penny had always been a quiet observer and could see right through the people around her. You’re too smart for your own good, her mother always said. Likely because she didn’t enjoy the fact that Penny could see right through her own bullshit so easily.

The older they all got, the more apparent it became that their mother could hardly take care of them and only cared about using their money for her vices. They all coped in their own ways, picking up hobbies and lifestyles to separate them from their childhood. Penny was fond of reading growing up, keeping her head low in a book at any given time. Reading eventually led to writing, and learning about the world outside of rural Tennessee. Slowly as they aged, her sisters began to leave home despite their mother’s pleas to stay. It eventually dwindled down to Penelope, Sage, and their mother. As much as she wanted to stick around to help Sage, Penny was just as determined to leave home as her older sisters were. Soon as high school ended, Penny put herself in college with the help of a few scholarships she applied for and far too many student loans. She didn’t care if she was in debt, because at least she was no longer in that small backwoods town.

Penny studied journalism and moved to San Francisco for school. With a thirst to finally live her life, she decided to take out more loans in her name and study abroad. She spent a year studying in Italy and fell deeply in love with art history while she was there. She eventually decided to minor in the topic. Italy proved to be a lot of firsts for her - the first time out of the country, the first time she felt truly independent, and the first time she ever fell in love. She was a romantic by heart, something she often blamed on the books she read. Meeting Luis in Italy was the best kind of first love she could’ve ever had. They were perfect together, but she knew it was temporary. She wished to return to America and knew Luis belonged right there in the countryside of Italy. Long distance just seemed silly, so they amicably separated once she returned from her studies.

Now graduated, she’s back in San Francisco, living with a roommate, and working at a local newspaper. It isn’t the highest paying job, but she’s being paid to write and far from the life she once had. Her older sister Iris doesn’t live too far away and she often keeps in touch with her other sisters but vows to never return to Tennessee. Penelope grew into a beautiful woman, even if she was a bit awkward from time to time and her perfectionist personality can rub some the wrong way… she was proud of who she became and proud of who she will become. She will always be that quiet observer with glasses too large for her small face, but life was far better now that she has moved on from the past.

[elemyah]

hello! im a recent follower of your blog, and i wanted to bounce a Ryuji fic idea! i wanted to write something angst or hurt/comfort with him, but im a bit dry as to what exactly can i angst or hurt him XD i was thinking about writing about his leg injury, but i wasnt sure if im able to write him right since ive never written him before can you give me a rundown of his personality? like, what are his key characterizations?

Hi, and welcome! Ryuji is my favorite, so I’ll try to help as I can.

Before anything, I just want to make it clear that much of how I interpret him is based on headcanons I came up with during the years, so it might not always be canon accurate.

That being said, I'll put some of my thoughts on him under the cut, since I'll probably ramble a bit.

If you don’t want to read my long ramblings about my favorite character, there’s a small list of key characteristics at the end. Anyway…

To me, Ryuji's main characteristic is that he's incredibly loyal. Be it to his friends, his mom, or his goal of being a Phantom Thief and do good. He can be pretty silly and dense, and sometimes his mouth goes much faster than his brain, but he's always trying to do what he thinks is best, and help those who need. He considered dropping out of school to help his mom financially, allowed his old team to (unfairly) let out their frustrations on him, was ready to sacrifice himself for the other Phantom Thieves, and is always willing to shield his friends, or fight for their sake no matter what. He has a strong sense of justice too, much stronger than his self-preservation and fear of consequences, as we saw with what happened with Kamoshida (I also don’t doubt he would’ve punched Shido’s face without a second thought if he knew who he was when they came across him… He’s the kind who acts by instinct before he thinks, and frequently get into trouble for it).

He’s someone who, despite his short patience, is also very forgiving. He was annoyed at Yusuke and Makoto at first, but didn’t think twice before helping them once he understood their situation. This is even clearer with Akechi, since Ryuji never trusted or liked him, but also had one of the strongest reactions to his story and “death”, even saying that he was more than special when Akechi had a breakdown after his fight in Shido’s palace. He’s the kind who takes no bullshit, and hates people who harm others and abuse their power, but is willing to give people a second chance if he feels they are willing to do better.

Since you’re planning to write about his injury, I think it’s important to keep in mind that not only did Ryuji lose something he loved to do and his chance to become a professional athlete when Kamoshida broke his leg, but he was also shunned by his team for it, and had to deal with the guilt of his mom apologizing for raising him on her own. It’s a bunch of terrible things happening at once, and I wish the game gave it all a little more attention, since people tend to forget about everything Ryuji went through because his personal drama isn’t as present in the narrative as other characters’. (There’s also the abusive father situation, which is something that doesn’t go away easily, but the game just mentions it and then forgets about it later…)

Ryuji was also probably pretty lonely before he met Joker, given how he was treated at school. That might be why he got so attached to Joker so quickly, since he was the first person in a long time to be willing to listen to his side of things and get to know him without the usual judgment. (Also, unrelated to Ryuji, but I feel like Joker felt the same way about him, since Ryuji was the first to listen to his side of things and be on his side. They were a good support for each other in their time of need, and that’s one of the reasons their friendship got so strong in such a short time). I also like how Ryuji’s emotional intelligence works, because he can be very dense for some things, but then there are moments when he’s the first to notice something is wrong with one of the PTs and tries to do something about it. Like when Yusuke mentions that people avoid him at school, and Ryuji immediately invites him to go out after that. He can be a little blunt, but he never tries to hide how much he cares about those close to him, and does what he can to help them when they need, or cheer them up when things go badly.

This goes more into headcanon territory, but I also think Ryuji is afraid of becoming like his abusive father. He’s constantly being treated as a “good for nothing punk” by teachers and classmates, was called a traitor and shunned by his old team, has a short temper, and often acts without thinking. It feels to me like he’s not only fully aware of his flaws, but also internalized this idea that he can do nothing right, so he (consciously or not) tries to compensate by being a hero as a Phantom Thief. Of course, he does care about the people they’re helping, but I think part of it is also him trying to prove to others and mostly himself that he can be good, and do good, and not just harm others like his father (or even Kamoshida) did. I can’t remember the exact words, but he mentions after Shido’s palace that he liked feeling like a hero, to the point he lost sight of what they were doing, and why. But, in the end, I think Ryuji put helping people who have no one to rely on, and no way out of a bad situation as his main goal, since I’m sure he often wished someone would help him (and his mom) when he needed, but ended up having to struggle on his own until he met Joker. So, in short, I think he has the best intentions and a willingness to do good things, but can easily get lost in his own problems and insecurities. His self-esteem is also pretty low, given how he often lets people treat him badly with little to no protests (some of it was for the sake of “humor” in the game, but it doesn’t change the fact that sometimes the group is unnecessarily mean to him).

TL/DR: to me, his main characteristics are loyalty, willing to do good (despite not always knowing how, or the best way to approach certain situations), and some pretty low self-esteem behind his confident and positive attitude. He’s a dork, but has a strong sense of justice, and often acts before he thinks. He can be dense, but is also openly caring and affectionate with those close to him, is always trying to help them, and tends to put their needs and feelings above his own (which can also be a flaw).

If it’s difficult for you to write him, it might be a good idea to read a few fics by different authors, and see which parts of their characterization feel right to you. I’m more of a P5 writer than a reader, so I don’t really have fic recs, but Ryuji is a fairly beloved character nowadays, so it should be easy to find good fics and rec posts around.

Anyway, sorry for the wall of text, I hope some of it can be of help to you. I love Ryuji, and it makes me happy to know you're interested in writing him. Good luck!

[thenexusofsouls]

"Oh, damn, are they that dark? Forgot to put my foundation on again. Lemme get my uh... my powder puff thingy or whatever..." Wade joked. This playful side of him always seemed to come out when he and Rose were alone. She made things so easy, so comfortable. Wade could only imagine that this was what love should feel like. He just wished he'd found it with someone he could actually be with.

"It's all good. You know any of you guys can always interrupt anything I'm doin'." He really meant that. As the leader of their team, he wanted to make himself available for whenever they might need his help, advice, whatever the case may be. And for Rose especially, he was always available.

"Well..." Wade said, gesturing at her small stature. "I dunno how big you are, but..." he joked before nodding. "No, I know, you can take care of yourself. I mean, shit, you put us guys into our places more times a day than anyone else does. I just can't help but think that you really shouldn't have to deal with his bullshit. Just because you can deal with it, doesn't mean it's right for him to go throwin' it at you, Rose. I know he doesn't mean to be a jerk, he's just so goddamn immature sometimes. He's got a lotta growin' up to do, but... I guess there's time for that." He shrugged. Wade didn't really buy that Crenshaw would ever grow up, but he hoped he would, for Rose's sake.

"Yeah, you're probably right. By now we've seen it all, haven't we?" he agreed. "Man, we've been through some crazy times together." Wade smiled at her then, and... well, maybe it lingered a little longer than it should, and maybe it was a little warmer than was appropriate. He forced himself to look away after too long, because he wasn't trying to make anything awkward for her. It was hard to hold back, though. He cared so much for her, and not being able to show it was really weighing on his heart. But Wade respected Rose's decision to stay with Crenshaw, and so he wasn't about to go rocking the boat for her again, no matter how hard it was for him to suppress his attraction to her.

"Oh, these are definitely relaxin' shots. The forgettin's just an added bonus," Wade said with a chuckle. "And really, isn't forgettin' your problems a great way to relax? So it's the best of both worlds." He tossed her a playful little smirk. This was such a bad idea, but... hey, they were two grown-ass adults, right? Surely they could keep things professional even after some tequila?

Famous last words, Wade thought.

"Okay, okay... one and a half," he corrected. He liked that he could joke around with Rose and she never took things too seriously. In fact, just about the only time Wade saw Rose get really over-sensitive and worked up was around Crenshaw. Love shouldn't make you feel that way, he thought, but he kept it to himself.

As they downed their shots, Wade's face contorted from the strength of the tequila, while Rose put away her shot like a pro. "Damn. Yeah, I'm in trouble already, aren't I?" he said with a chuckle. "How do you just do that with a straight face, this shit is strong! See, this is why I'm more of a vodka man." Even so, he poured them each another shot.

“I’ve missed you. So much.” (Rose for Wade; @mxrvelouscreations

@mxrvelouscreations

"You've been on my mind too," Wade said. He knew he shouldn't be saying things like that to Rose, but it was hard not to. He'd fallen hard for her, despite her wanting to officially stay with Crenshaw. Honestly, he didn't fault her for that. They were together first, after all. It hurt, but it was ultimately her decision. But any time she did pay him the kind of attention he ached for, he accepted it graciously, even against his better judgement.

He really didn't expect Rose to want to keep seeing him this way, not after that one time they were together. As much as he couldn't get her off his mind, he forced himself to accept that it was just a one-time thing. Except that ended up not being true. "How are you? Everything okay?" he asked, knowing there were a lot of fights and drama between her and Crenshaw, and that it weighed on her. Wade just loved Rose. He genuinely loved her. All he wanted was to be there for her, even if she never ended up wanting him in any official sense.