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skylarsblue · 1 year

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✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, Again✦

Guess who's back...back again-

Ghost @ DILF!Y/N: Stop making me have gay thoughts, General. I look at men and I feel weird. I feel strange. It makes me wanna do things. I don’t like that.

(This also works with Soap, of course)

-- (Based on that one Avatar moment that set the fucking bar for me. Also, bonus random name of an NPC) Ghost: Oliver is the best sniper. DILF!Y/N, real softly over Ghost’s shoulder: …well I don’t want Oliver. Ghost, a man with daddy issues: Ghost, internally: HOLD IT THE FUCK TOGETHER SOLDIER, WE’LL GET THROUGH THIS

-- Y/N: I was gonna say that if in ten years time, the two of us aren’t married, let’s agree… Gaz: Yeah? Y/N: To hunt each other for sport. Gaz: T-To hunt each other for sport?- Y/N: Yeah! D-did you just agree?! Gaz: I thought you were gonna say like, y’a know, let’s get married! Let’s- Y/N: Oh! Oh. Gaz: I’ll be your Gilligan! Y/N: I didn’t mean- the signals-

-- Gaz: Sorry! I thought I saw a wasp. Y/N: Do you love me too? Gaz, breaking his neck: Excuse me?

-- (NSFW warning) Y/N: Like- no I know it’s bad but bro I- he makes me such a whore. Soap: Okay like, on a scale of one to ten- Y/N: I’d let him cum on my glasses Soap: ON YOUR GLASSES?! Oh it’s serious. Y/N: I KNOW

-- 141: *looking at knocked out Graves* Y/N: I’m gonna check his pockets. Alejandro: For weapons? Y/N: No, to see where he keeps the fucking audacity. Soap: *wheeze* No no, bad timing, don’t be funny this is serious.

-- Y/N: You wanna go toe-to-toe with me, pretty boy? Alejandro: Go for it.~ I’ll give you the first shot. Y/N: Better make it count, casanova. Alejandro: I never half-ass anything, mi girasol. Ghost: Oi, keep your pants on and focus, would ya?

-- Soap: Missed me missed me now you gotta kiiii…. Simon: Now I gotta what? Soap: Nothin’ forget it- Simon: No no, now I gotta what?

-- Y/N, surrounded by attractive men: Am I…a whore? Y/N: *looks at them* Y/N: I don’t really give a fuck, HEY TEAM-

-- Gaz: Why are you just…laying on the couch? Usually you’re up and doing something. Y/N: Can’t move. Soap: Why?? Y/N: *sits up on their elbows and allows their neck to be seen* Gaz: *gasp* Nooooo… Y/N: Mhm. Soap: Nuh uh. Y/N: König carried me here. >:) Gaz: YOU WHORED! Y/N: I DID!!

-- Someone: Please PLEASE don’t tell anyone. Y/N: I won’t! I won’t, promise. Someone: *sigh* Thank you. … Price: *doing paperwork* Y/N, busting in: CAPTAIN!! Price: BLOODY FU-What in the world?! Y/N: *shuts his door and smoothly sits on his desk* Captain you will not believe what I have heard.

-- Soap: I’m gonna stop listening to drama. I’m gonna focus on my training, be a better person- Gaz: Right, right. Y/N, popping in: Guess who got caught sucking dick in the bathroom. Soap & Gaz: WHO?! Soap: *falls out of chair*

-- Price: Be nice. Y/N: I’m always nice! Price: Really nice, not bitchy nice. Y/N: …you tied my hands but fine.

-- (With a random backstory I have in my brain for König) Y/N: How do you uh, deal with all this trauma? König: I call my mutter. Y/N: That’s beautiful, K- König: Call my mutter a bitch.

-- Gaz: GIRLFRIEND STOP, GET BACK IN THE CAR Soap with zero self preservation instincts: *sprinting with a pipe bomb* YOU GET BACK HERE!

-- Y/N: This entire team is full of babygirls. Gaz: Oh not that fucking meme- Soap: Full of huh? Ghost: Call me that and I will snap your spine. Y/N: Bring it! An honor sir! Price: Jesus Christ-

#the dilf ones are for my own enjoyment #i have a dilf oc and this is how i get it out #call of duty x y/n #call of duty x reader #call of duty #konig call of duty #konig x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #incorrect cod quotes

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pedgito · 1 year

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for those that couldn’t listen, here’s what we’ve learned about Joseph Quinn from today’s panel (creds):

he doesn’t like pineapple on pizza

he’s happy with the questions people ask him

meeting Metallica is one of his favorite memories from this year

he speaks English is is learning Italian and German

he can understand a little bit of spanish but can’t speak it

him being in a bunch of period dramas was not a coincidence

Jamie loves his eyes

Joe Keery is his favorite costar

he has not listened to any more Harry Styles since last month

he likes the WASP pin on Eddie’s vest the most

he doesn’t meditate (but says he probably should)

Sunshine of Your Love by Cream is the first song he learned on guitar

prefers steak pie over fish n chips

he’s doing alright :)

he likes Arctic Monkeys

his favorite Arctic Monkeys song at the moment is Perfect Sense

his favorite role is Eddie

his favorite scene from stranger things was the guitar scene, but he also liked shooting with the cast (Joe, Maya, Natalia, Sadie, etc.)

he was very nervous meeting the stranger things cast

the first s4 scene he shot was in the boathouse

he thinks it’s annoying when actors talk about their process to prepare for roles

he thinks some roles come naturally and some don’t

he loved Toy Story as a child

he loved working with Gaten so much

he did some acting in school and enjoyed it and then went to drama school

he would star in Bridgerton if it was offered to him

fall is his favorite season

favorite animal is a dolphin

he is an only child

his favorite scene as Ralph was when he proposed, but he doesn’t remember much

likes the song I Am by Jamie Campbell Bower

it took him an hour to learn Master of Puppets on guitar, and a few months to get it better

he listens to Metallica

he improvises lines with more spontaneous characters

he’s had social anxiety before

his glasses are reading glasses

he needs contacts but he doesn’t have them yet

biggest pet peeve is fussy eaters but he’s fine with vegans and vegetarians

he can’t choose a favorite pasta

he would stick with Eddie even if he could’ve chosen a different stranger things role to audition for

his comfort character is Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka

Legolas is his favorite LOTR character

he finds it weird to call himself a “famous person”

he thinks him and Eddie share a “questionable fashion sense”

he cannot play the Master of Puppets solo on guitar, but the rest of the song

he loves all of the stranger things fast that he got to work with

he’d love to be a part of A Quiet Place franchise

he wanted to save animals and be a marine biologist when he was a child

his perfect date would be dinner and a movie

when playing Eddie, he drew inspiration from obnoxious people older than him growing up

doesn’t have a least favorite stranger things scene to shoot

favorite movies from this year were The Banshees of Inisherin and The Whale

he is a dog person

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #eddie munson #stranger things

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softlyspector · 3 months

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choices

Summary: Joel is dying. He reflects on the choices he made.

Word count: ~2.2k

Relationship(s): Joel & Sarah, Joel & Ellie, Joel & Tommy

Warnings: spoilers for tlou part 2, a whole lot of grief and love, descriptions of violence and injuries and death, confusion, trauma, written in like two hours and edited only lightly, not my usual writing style

A/N: Hello, remember when just this morning I said no golf on this page? I lied a little bit. We're going golfing in this one, but I think the fact that I can write about this without having a breakdown means the big ball of grief in my chest is easing just a little. Maybe that's silly, considering he is Not Real. But it is what it is. I don't expect many of you to read this lil fic but if you do, know I love you and appreciate you. I would love to hear anything you have to say. Thank you for reading <3

“What if she’s still alive, Tommy?”

Tommy’s head snaps in his brother’s direction, Joel still waiting to receive medical attention.

It's warm. The weather is nice. He can hear crickets chirping in the grass. Feels like a fucking crime.

Pandamonium, everywhere, still, in the triage center; but between the two of them it’s quiet, the whole world far away. It has to be, with Sarah’s blood still on his hands, the feeling of her little hands clawing at his bicep still wasping over his skin.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about, Joel?”

“S—” Her name gets caught up in his throat, wads up against the back of his tongue and sticks it to the roof of his mouth. That first letter is sour and anxious, a bitter candy in the maw of his grief.

Daughter, child, baby.

His baby, warm in his arms, her blood threading through his fingers, life draining away.

All he could do was watch and watch and try to stop that horrible red.

He had looked away for one second, and she’d left. Gone.

Two days ago, her body cooled in his arms. Two days ago, he had to close her eyes forever with trembling fingers. He hadn’t been able to look into them again, and would forever be missing that color, trying to remember it, match it to some shade that would never be right, never be her.

“Sarah,” he manages and clears his throat.

Tommy is the one that wants him to get looked at. Because Joel can’t tell if something is wrong or not, from running and falling and being shot at. He doesn’t feel fucking anything, just numbness, just the pull of his skin too tight against his organs and bones. Just a pulsing dark hole, raw and torn at the edges.

Part of him got ripped out when she—

Where had he put it all before, he wonders, all that love? His body isn’t big enough for it. And it certainly ain’t big enough for this much grief.

“What if she was still alive? When we buried her. I want to check.”

Grief.

It will bend over backwards just to look you in the eyes. Denial of its gaze will break even the best of them.

Joel looks away, sees a daughter that might claw free of the fate she suffered.

The memories are sunbursts behind his eyes, blinding and impossible to look at, but not something he could ever forget. Cradling her to his chest, can’t leave her behind, bury her at least, put her bones to rest, but what if she’s alive? Are they sure she was dead? Maybe she’d just passed out?

Tommy shifts, looks away, across the emergency tents and the families still hoping to find a loved one, everyone wondering what the fuck was going on as night falls again, another day in this new world. Forever changed.

He doesn’t need his brother to say it, that she isn’t alive, that Joel had held her and felt for a pulse for hours afterwards, intermittently pressing fingers to neck just to be sure. He doesn’t need Tommy to tell him that even if she had been, they’d buried her two days ago, and she certainly was now.

A wave of grief pulses through his chest again. That’s the only time the numbness abates, just those little moments where love washed away too soon, overpowers.

“Joel—”

Joel isn’t listening. He’s thinking of blue eyes opening six feet under the ground, inhaling dirt, panicking, confused about how she ended up there, suffocating, and Joel had been the one to put her there.

A new wave of emotion passes over Tommy’s face.

“She was gone.” His hand lands on his shoulder.

Little brother who he’d always looked out for and played third parent to, or maybe he was just the second.

“You’re right,” Joel nods, his throat constricts again, glassy pearl of grief swelling against his skin until it feels like it might burst. “I know.” His voice cracks right up the middle.

Joel still hasn’t washed her blood from his fingers, it feels like the last moment of loss, the very last thing he can hold onto.

He still believes in the world, then. That he can hold onto for a second.

And then, him and Tommy are at the border to a quarantine zone a few days after that. Joel still has his kid’s blood staining his t-shirt. Someone checked him out at the triage center, and wiped away the blood before he could stop them, told him he sprained his shoulder.

How did that happen? And did it matter, if he couldn’t feel it at all? He doesn’t feel pain or hunger or anything else, just wave after wave of grief. He doesn’t even feel angry.

But then they’re there, truck confiscated, in the processing center to the Austin QZ, with backpacks and the clothes on their back and a promise that they’d be able to get a letter to his mother when he is waved in and Tommy is not.

Then, the anger sets in and the world changes in his mind and he sees it for what it has become. The thing that took Sarah and wrought hell and wanted to take more.

It would not happen again.

He argues with the officers and gets angry, the kind of angry that used to follow him before Sarah arrived and mellowed him out. They won’t hear sense, even though taking Tommy would be the same as taking Joel. They have most of the same skills. His brother is better than him, anyhow.

But maybe that’s the problem. Similar skills and one with ideals.

“It’s all right, Joel, I’ll figure somethin’ else out. I’ll head to Arlington.” He never would have let that happen, not then, not at that moment, but if he had, he knows he never would have seen Tommy again.

He’s on the knife’s edge of being restrained when he walks back through the gate to his brother’s side.

It’s a relief.

Not again.

They never find their mother; they never get to send a letter.

He makes the choice for them, even though Tommy tells him to go on. “They wouldn’t have me now, anyhow. We’re better off this way.”

Joel doesn’t hear any arguments and eventually Tommy stops trying.

It’s the same kind of change that would bloom dangerous and righteous in St. Mary’s twenty odd years later. The same kind of relief when he finally finished his terrible task, choice made, crisis averted, for the time being.

Tommy came to resent Joel for the choices he tried to make for both of them, so it’s no wonder Ellie would one day, too.

When Joel dies, when he’s dying, when he’s being beaten to death, and his mind finally parts from his body and the pain fades—he thinks of that moment, Tommy staring at him through that fence.

He thinks of Sarah, her tiny frame in his arms, the way she was so small when she died and when she was born. So fragile against his chest, baby hair like yellow fluff, both times.

He thinks of Ellie, smiling at him, fearlessly leaping from great heights and scaring him half to death, thinks of dinners together before everything went to hell, thinks of hats on dinosaurs, books about space read aloud, the desperate clawing, asking to stay close when he could feel her slipping away.

He thinks of Tess, how she wanted to lie low and take a break, after. He thinks of that bite on her neck and the sprawl of her broken body on a chilled marble floor.

Joel never got enough time with anyone.

Reviled, always, for what he would do for them.

And still he would do it again and again and again.

The nine iron comes down on his shoulder, the reverberation of it echoing through his body, the vast cavernous, cancerous space of it. Pinging off ribs and around the blackened, singed accordion of his lungs, sluggishly billowing open and closed, like the end of a song he never knew how to sing.

What kind of hell did he end up in? Inflicted with a beating he can no longer feel; slow; the end long overdue.

A merciful one, maybe.

A deserved one, maybe.

But it is the end.

Violent, like it should be. Like it had been for so many others. The way he had made it for so many others.

Sarah, bleeding in his arms. Her eyes blank and unseeing and the fear that he had buried his blood before her time, that somewhere in the earth she still writhed. Undeniable, then, that it was his fault.

Ellie, machete raised above her head, bringing it down, over and over, blood on her face and then crying in his arms. He would never be able to say what he said to her then to soothe her, his skin frozen cold against hers, sweaty and tacky with fear and adrenaline.

The fire had felt much hotter than it was against the cold, her body fitted into the cradle of his. She was so little against him. Just a kid. He would be, and was, sorry about that for the rest of his life. What she had endured alone, that she had had to save him.

Again.

The point of no return, a fate sealed in blood.

Tried to deny it, even after he decided to take her to the university. Muttered promises he had to fulfill, or else.

Or else, he’d lose what little of his soul he might have left.

Well, I’m not leaving here without you.

With Sarah’s picture in his pocket, he had kept that promise.

He cracks an eye open, and there she is.

Maybe he should wonder why she’s there, be afraid that she is. But all he is, is glad.

See you around.

A promise to try her hand at forgiving him, and here she is, trying.

Ellie's voice.

He wishes he could hear her. She’s looking at him, and that’s fine. He misses her and wishes he would have said that.

Joel blinks, once, slowly, the image of her flickers. The little girl that hadn’t wanted to go anywhere with him, had wanted to stay with her friend Marlene, the leader of the Fireflies. He sees the child Tess had looked him in the eye over and said look, I get it and nothing else, because what else was there to say? Tess knew about Sarah, and Tess knew him.

Terribly transparent, a horrific liar.

He feels the weight of her in his arms through the thin cotton of that hospital gown and then the warm press of her palms shoving him away. All the heaviness of his sins, the break of teeth against untruth, the hard skin of lies. He hears the wracking sobs, the betrayal. A flare of real pain accompanies it, washes cold like a wave across a shore.

And still, he’d do it again.

If he had to, and even if he didn’t. Because it matters. Ellie matters.

The pit of love inside him, that saving, healing, mellowing thing that shouted in colors of grief and made him smile again, play the guitar again and sing again, that made him miss in a way that stung a little less.

Her grave, without a marker.

Dirt on a little body that they couldn’t even put in a pine box. Tommy crying, Joel silent. He’d done his howling.

When Ellie pushed him away, held him at arms length and decided she hated him for the choice he made for her, even if no one was going to have one either way, there hadn’t been howling, either.

There was nothing to mourn after all.

She lives, she breathes. She is safe and has other people to support her.

He wondered, after, when they got back to Jackson and she stopped talking to him, if all that love had only ever gone one way, choked in an artery that spilled out onto the wrong avenue, like everything inside him had been built backward.

Maybe she stopped caring about him, but there had been love there once, and that’s all someone like him could ever hope for.

Just a split second, of being enough, of being the right thing at the right time and making the right decision in the right way.

He sees the decisions lined up, like glass bottles on a wall, like he was a kid with a BB gun. Sarah and Tommy and Tess and Ellie. Maybe if he’d done one thing different or everything different, things would have ended up different and better.

Maybe they would have all gotten to make the choices they really deserve.

He blinks again and the little girl is gone, replaced with the woman she grew into. The one he’s proud of and keeps tabs on, because that’s his kid and that’s what a parent does.

There are tears, and he can hear her a little. Her voice is breaking. He wants to tell her it’s okay.

That’s what he does, tries to do anyway, make sure everyone and everything is okay. He did that, too, even when she didn’t know it. Made sure she came home and got enough and listened with pride when people said she was doing well.

But this is the end and the executioner’s blade is raised high.

Joel twitches, reaching, fingers curling, wants to say it, but he can’t. His own blood pools cold and sticky beneath his head.

He's tired.

He’s sorry that she has to see.

Sorry that it takes him so long to die.

He doesn't regret anything.

He would do it all over again.

Thanks for reading if you got this far 💕 Would love to know what you think!

#tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel and sarah #joel and ellie #joel and tommy #joel miller

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cuddles-with-dragons · 3 months

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a shitload of incorrect quotes

Tech: *clicks pen* Crosshair: *clicks pen in response* Wrecker: Stop that. Tech: Stop what? Wrecker: You’re talking about me in Morse code! Tech: Yes, that’s what we doing. In our very limited time, we took a class on a very outdated, very unnecessary form of communication just so we could talk about you in front of you. Congrats, you figured us out! *later* Crosshair, to Omega: That’s actually exactly what we were doing.

Hunter: What’s something you guys are better than Crosshair at? Wrecker: Mario Kart. Omega: Yeah, all video games except first-person shooters and The Last Of Us. Tech: Emotional vulnerability.

Tech: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? Hunter: Maybe a bit tipsy? Echo: Drunk. Wrecker: Wasted. Crosshair: Dead.

Echo, setting down a card: Ace of spades. Tech, pulling out an Uno card: +4. Crosshair, pulling out a Pokémon card: Absol, I choose you! Hunter, trembling: What are we playing?!

Wrecker: What is love? Hunter: An emotional minefield. Tech: A neurochemical reaction. Omega: Baby don't hurt me.

Crosshair: What starts with F and ends with Uck? Echo: No it doesn't. Tech: Firetruck! Omega: FUCK!

Omega: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies. Hunter: You’re too young to have enemies. Omega: You don’t even know.

Crosshair: If I die, you can have what little I own. Hunter: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die? Crosshair: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full. Hunter: Hunter: *Sigh* Let me call your therapist again.

Nexu: I’m not a doctor, I’m a medic. Wrecker: What’s the difference then? Nexu: Well doctors actually save lives, medics just make you feel more comfortable as you die. Crosshair: Note to self; never get shot.

Crosshair: Hand me the people opener. Hunter: ... Hunter: Pardon? Crosshair, annoyed: The people opener! Just hand it to me! Hunter, stressed: WHAT THE FUCK IS A PEOPLE OPENER? Crosshair: How do you not know what a people opener is? Its pointy- you know? With a handle? Hunter: Knife. It's called a knife.

Omega, hugging Crosshair: Do you feel any better? Crosshair: I feel much better now that you're here with me. *Hunter walks in* Crosshair: I feel half better.

Hunter: Would you rather kill Tech, or— Echo: Yes, kill them. Hunter: I didn’t say the other thing— Echo: I don’t need to hear it. Tech: …I’m feeling a little unsafe.

Benji, to cadet Crosshair: Oh my stars you are so cute and small! Crosshair: *proceeds to kick him in the shin and run away* Hunter, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Crosshair cute or small.

Hunter: Omega is at that very special age where a kid only has one thing on their mind. Crosshair: Murder? Omega: Murder.

Hunter: How high are you? Crosshair: 6'4". Tech: No, he's asking what drugs are you on. Crosshair: Oh, antidepressants, why?

Crosshair: Hey, do you know the password to Hunter’s computer? Omega: Fuck you, Crosshair. Crosshair: Hey!! Omega: No, you misunderstood, the password is "fuckyouCrosshair". Crosshair: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

Omega: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. Echo: Wasn’t Crosshair with you? Crosshair: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Tech: I will find us a ride. Tech: If you two can manage to not kill each other while I'm gone. Omega: Oh, please. We're not children. *Tech leaves* Omega, casually: ...Eat shit and die. Crosshair, also casually: Yes, fuck you.

Omega: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Crosshair: I'm a knife. Wrecker, from across the room: He's the little spoon.

Crosshair: Fun Fact! The average person will walk by 36 murderers in their lifetime. Echo: I like how this is a "fun" fact. Hunter: It's fun because they didn't decide to murder you.

#the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb omega #clone trooper oc #mandalorian oc #so uh benji is a mando that trained commandos on kamino #and nexu is a clone oc of mine #crosshair actually likes hugs but will never admit it

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mentally-ill-simp · 5 months

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That's for nerds (Scott Lang x reader)

I was sitting at the table of the Pym household drinking my coffee and reading my book while Hope and Hank talked about stuff that I really did not care to much about as I read my book Scott walked in, now don't get me wrong Scott was a very very attractive man that could probably get any woman if he really wanted but I decided not to give into his crap, but anyway as Scott walked in he sat down right beside me and looked over at my book, I of course choose to ignore his presents, but he kept getting closer an closer to me and reading "are you reading Lord of the Rings?" he finally asked "um, yeah why?" I gave him a look "oh nothing it's fine" he said and continued reading "no tell me" I said now putting my book down and becoming more interested in what he had to say "well uh" he stammered as I waited patiently "that's for nerds" he smirked "oh really?" I asked giving him a smirk back "yeah but I didn't mean it in a bad way" he said "and lucky for you I am a nerd" I then kissed his cheek and left the room to go shower

#scott lang #ant man #scott lang x reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #ant man and the wasp #one shot

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nerdraging4point0 · 1 month

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Power Play // Chapter Four // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV.

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Active taglist: @ladyveronikawrites @tearfallpixie @beaker1636 @circle-with-me @synthetic-wasp-570 @itsjustemily @thesazzb @vinyardmauro @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @letmeadoreyoux @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @mysticdoodlez @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @somebodyels3 @sacredthefran @cncohshit @flowery-mess @graveatspeople @cncohshit @nerdywitch20 @sundamariis @srorgana1 @malerieee @bloody-delusion-expert @sammyjoeee @deathofpeaceofmiiind @hayleylatour @deadboltsblog @broken0mens

Two days. Forty-eight hours. That's all I get to train before they toss me headfirst into the role of head athletic nurse. Just a couple days shadowing Naomi and then - bam! - she's gone on early maternity leave. And if that's not enough, I can't find a single affordable apartment in this insane city. I was so determined to make it on my own, but after 24 fruitless hours of searching, Dad insisted I take an apartment in the complex where the hockey players live. Move in ready next week, free rent, close to the rink. I should be grateful, right? I mean, it gets me out of Dad's place at least. But now it's game day and I'm nowhere near ready. My head's spinning and my stomach's in knots. I have no idea what I've gotten myself into. This is way too much way too fast. Breathe, girl. Just breathe. You've got this.

My heart pounds as I frantically take stock of my supplies. Tape, ice packs, ace bandages - check. It's not that I don't know how to treat injuries. As a nurse, wounds and fractures are second nature. But this - this is new territory. I didn't sign up for the intensity of trauma care on the sidelines. My expertise is in orthopedics, urology, neurology - slower paced clinic work. Not split second emergency response.

I sit on the sidelines watching warmups, taking in the sights and sounds of the rink. There's a smattering of early bird fans already in the stands, but more are still filing in, arms loaded with popcorn and hot dogs. The boys glide and weave across the ice, firing pucks into the gaping net, muscles coiled as they launch themselves into sharp turns.

McClain and Sanders emerge from the tunnel, bundled in pads and skates. They ease towards the goal, McClain positioning himself between the posts while Sanders hangs back, stick resting casually on his shoulder. The other players start peppering McClain with shots - his glove flashes out, quick as a cat's paw, snagging the pucks from the air. He drops into a butterfly, legs splaying wide to kick away rebounds. I can't take my eyes off him, enthralled by his reflexes and fearless focus.

My stomach is in knots as the warmups wind down. One by one, the players skate over to tap fists with Coach and Jack before heading off the ice. Sanders, Dominick, McClain, Ruffilo - they all make sure to bump fists with me too. I force myself to take some deep breaths as the opening ceremonies begin. I watch anxiously as the puck drops for the first faceoff. The boys look sharp, moving the puck around cleanly, getting some good chances early. My nerves start to settle just a bit seeing them come out strong in these crucial opening minutes. But I'm still on the edge of my seat, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

I've got my eyes glued to the ice as the Avalanche roar down the rink with the puck, making a beeline for McClain's net. Sebastian bursts forward, moving in to intercept. Sticks clash and sparks fly as he battles for possession. With a mighty swing, he breaks free and shovels the puck away. But his opponent doesn't take kindly to being shaken off. As Sebastian streaks up the ice, the guy charges after him and slams their bodies together, crushing them both against the boards. The glass shudders from the hit - you can feel the aggression pulsating through the arena.

My eyes are glued to Sebastian as he shakes off that nasty hit. The guy is seeing red, flexing out the arm that just got plastered into the boards. He's back in position now, still fuming, and drives hard to defend the net again. A few more plays and another try for a score but McClain is quick as ever and snags the puck. Sebastian eases up to circle back, but that same goon swoops in and crunches him into the wall again. Suddenly it's mayhem - helmets flying, sticks tossed, bare fists grabbing jerseys, going for faces. The refs dive in to break it all up. My heart's pounding as I take it all in. This game just got heated.

As the whistle blows, Coach bellows for Sebastian to hit the bench and sends in Dominick. My stomach drops. Sebastian's face is as red as his jersey as he skates over, and I shuffle closer, dreading what I'll see. His lip is swollen and split open, a trail of blood oozing down his chin. Coach grabs Sebastian's cheeks and gives him a stern once-over before nodding my way. Our eyes meet briefly before Sebastian clambers over the boards on wobbly skates, weighed down by pads and gear.

My heart races as I rummage through my bag for the gauze and antiseptic. I gently dab the wet gauze on his rugged, battered face, taking care not to hurt him. He winces ever so slightly, pulling back as I tenderly clean the gash on his lip.

"This will need some ice," I murmur, transfixed by his mouth. The wound isn't deep, but it would still hurt if I tried to kiss it. Stop it, Sarah.

"I could just lay on the rink, would that help?" he jokes, flashing me a roguish grin.

I can't help but smile, lost in his sparkling eyes. Even bruised from the game, he makes my stomach do somersaults. As I gently dab the last of the blood from his rugged face, I ask for his hands.

He turns them palm down, rough and shaking. I trace my fingers over the tattoos marking his skin, checking for any hidden injuries. Through my gentle touch, I feel his warmth, his strength. Our eyes meet and my heart flutters. I take his hand in both of mine, lightly pressing each knuckle, thrilled by his closeness. He doesn't flinch. If he's in pain, he doesn't show it. Or maybe it's just the adrenaline.

"Looks good," I say, my eyes lingering a little too long on his handsome face. "Nothing too badly damaged."

He smiles, though it turns into a wince as the wounded side of his lip curves up. "Just my pride," he replies ruefully.

"Ah, pride," I tut, leaning in conspiratorially. "A tricky thing to find once lost. But if I happen to stumble over yours rolling around, I'll be sure to scoop it up and return it to its rightful owner." I give him a playful wink, unable to keep from flirting. Even banged up, he's cute as hell.

NOAH'S POV

As I hop over the boards and back onto the ice, my legs feel a little shaky. I skate slowly back to position, my head still spinning. Man, her smile just melts me every time. So sly and sexy. And that hair... She's such a little fox. I can't stop thinking about her. I've got it bad for this girl. Focus, dude! Gotta keep my head in the game. The way her black and red scrubs hug those round curves of hers. Alright, deep breaths. Back to the action.

I'm back defending our goal after that goon got himself tossed for busting my lip. The blood's dripping down my chin but I've got no time to worry about that. We're up 4-2 with the clock winding down. Karlsson and me, we go together like peanut butter and jelly defending our net. A winger tries to blow past me but I plant him into the boards. I knock the puck loose and pass it off to Karlsson but their center snags it. I shake off the winger clinging to me and slide across the crease to rob the center's shot. I scoop up the puck and send it flying down the ice. I'm throwing hits left and right, keeping their forwards outside our zone. The final horn blares and we've done it again - chalk up another W. My jersey's soaked with sweat but the pain doesn't matter.

I'm beat as we drag our battered bodies back to the locker room. My muscles are screamin' under these pads after the torture session on the ice. That bone-crunchin' check into the boards left my shoulder throbbing with a deep bruise. I grunt and roll my arm, trying to shake out the pain.

The locker room erupts when we stumble in. The boys are hootin' and hollerin', dancing around half-naked and drenched in sweat. I toss my stick and lid in my stall and collapse on the bench, rip off my gloves and gingerly touch my busted lip. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth as I wince.

I peel off my jersey, wincing as the sweaty fabric sticks to my skin. The pads come next, and I sigh in relief as my shoulders are freed from their restrictive embrace. The locker room falls silent as all eyes turn to me. I run a hand through my damp hair, pushing it back from my forehead.

As I sit on the bench, spent from the game, a shadow falls over me. I glance up to see Little Fox standing there, ice pack in hand, trademark smirk on her lips. She holds out the bag, ice cracking inside, and I take it slowly, letting my fingers brush hers. Her eyes trace over my bare chest and I see her throat tighten as she swallows hard. She wants me. My teammates watch us, eager for the show.

I stand tall in front of her, watching those dark eyes go wide. Her lips part slightly as she takes me in. "F-for your face," she stammers, pressing the ice into my hands before slipping away, a new bounce in her step. I grin as she goes.

Game on, Little Fox.

We roll into Sully's still riding high after crushing Washington 4-zip on the ice tonight.

That game was a brawl, I'm still aching all over. But hey, at least my mug is still pretty this time. The split lip from the last match is finally scabbing up enough that I can wolf down a burger without wincing. The shiner's faded and I clean up alright for a night out. The boys and I threw on our nicest threads, my black slacks and a soft navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off the ink running up my arms.

The second I open the door, this total dive hits me with that sweet stench of stale beer and chicken wings. Road signs and hilarious bar quotes plaster the walls from floor to ceiling. Three monster TVs behind the bar blast sports on full volume - college ball, NFL, and of course our boys lighting up the NHL highlights.

With the game pumping through the speakers and the home team plastered on every screen, Sully's is our scene tonight. Loud, messy, no pretensions - just how we like it after a big win.

We snag the biggest table in the joint and start pounding 'em back, one after another. The energy is through the roof thanks to that W. Jolly's already facedown in his third pint, trying to sweet talk the waitress in his sloppy Swedish. The swedish isn’t working but the way he is batting his eyes at her and has her laughing tells me she is into him.

Sanchez is working his magic on a couple hockey bunnies in the corner, likely wanting to take both of them back to the hotel with him. Meanwhile, Nick and Andy are talking trash and seeing who can balance more empty bottles on their domes. As for me? I'm just taking it all in, boys - the brews, the brotherhood, that sweet taste of victory.

"Check it out, McClain," Nick says, words running together as he balances a third bottle on his head, swaying to keep it steady. "It's all about that balance, bro."

Andy scoffs, clutching his six shot glasses in one hand and snatching one of Nick's to perch on his middle finger. "Balance? I'll show you balance, you little punk," he slurs back.

The dim lights of this hole-in-the-wall bar make it tough to see much of anything. Shadows dance across dark wood as my eyes adjust. The dance floor packed tight with bodies grinding up against each other to the pulsing beat. Through the mass of writhing shapes, I catch a glimpse of foxtail curls swaying in time with the music. She's gorgeous, sipping a cocktail through a black straw, full lips wrapped around it. Hips swaying hypnotically in that little red dress that hugs every curve. She laughs, head thrown back in delight, and her friend with the messy bun joins in.

I'm transfixed as I watch her move across the dance floor. The sway of her hips and bounce of her curls has me hypnotized. I down my drink in one gulp, no longer interested in anything else tonight. Pushing through the crowded club, I keep my eyes locked on her - my prize. A few eager ladies try to divert my attention but I'm relentless, driven by desire. I have to feel her body against mine.

Finally reaching her, I slide my hand across the curve of her hip, fingertips digging into the silky fabric of her dress. Pulling her into me, I bring my lips to her ear and growl, "Dance with me, beautiful."

The bass is pulsing through my body as I sway my hips to the beat. Me and my bestie Marissa hit up Sully's after the Kraken game for some much needed drinks and dancing. She looks bangin' in her tight black dress, fending off guys left and right. "Not worth your time, honey!" she says with a flip of her hair.

I laugh but I'm feeling that itch, you know? It's been too damn long since I've felt those hands on me, those lips on my neck. I wore this sexy red number hoping to lure in a hookup, but with Marissa running cockblock patrol, doesn't look like that's happening tonight.

Then, I feel it. Strong hands grasp my hips from behind and pull me back against a hard chest. Mmm I can't help but melt into him as we sway together. Now this is exactly what I needed after that hockey game. Looks like Marissa can't stop me from having a little fun tonight after all.

"Dance with me, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry against my ear. I feel the rumble of it through his chest pressed against my back, sending a shiver down my spine. His hands slide around my waist, pulling me closer as we sway to the music. I'm intoxicated by his presence, melting into his embrace. Our bodies move as one, passion smoldering between us. His breath hot on my neck, his touch electric. This dance is full of promise, an invitation to something more.

I'm swaying to the beat, drink in hand, when Marissa leans in close so I can hear her over the pounding music. "I want details," she says, planting a kiss on my cheek and taking the drink from my hand before disappearing into the crowd.

I close my eyes again, letting this mystery man's hands roam as we move together. When I finally open them, I do a double take - it's Noah! Those intense brown eyes boring into mine with that look of determination he gets on the ice.

His strong hands grip my hips, pulling me flush against him. I know I shouldn’t give in, but the heat radiating from his body thaws my resolve. If Daddy found out his little girl was messing around with a player, he’d blow his whistle for sure. Not that his rules have ever stopped me before. That goalie with the dreamy eyes almost made me forget curfew back in high school. But getting caught now might mean so much more than grounded from prom. Still, a girl’s got needs. And this player’s touch tells me he knows exactly how to satisfy them.

"What's the matter, little fox?" His words are a sensual purr that makes my knees weak. The heady scent of beer, whiskey and woodsy cologne intoxicates me. I'm helpless against him, my body craving his touch despite the risk. My breath catches as his lips graze my neck.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #noahsebastian fanfic #bad omens band #hockey player noah #hockey #bad omens au #bad omens smut #hockey romance #hockeyomens #hockey player!noah

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toskarin · 4 months

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Okay imagine this. You’re at the doctor to get a shot. The doctor asks you if you’re uncomfortable with needles. You nod yes and turn away, and as the doctor loads up the syringe he switches it out with one of those wasps with big fucked up ovipositors. You feel the prick, thank the doctor and go about your day

I don't think I'd like that honestly!

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intriga-hounds · 8 months

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i volunteered to be The Token Queer at work this year, and so naturally i started being handed all of these huge responsibilities that i have mixed feelings about.

i am now in charge of No Place For Hate at our school. i am now advisor to the GSA club, which needs a lot of help by the look of things. i am the leader of my content team for the first time. i am preparing to train staff on how to support queer students. i am planning a schoolwide initiative to teach kids how and when to stand up for each other. i need to design t shirts and stickers. i need to choose my words carefully. i need to be prepared for the barrage of parent pushback for what i’m about to do.

last week after taking over NPFH i got in my car shaking. i could feel my PVCs flare up. i thought of that woman in arrowhead that was just shot for having a rainbow flag, like the one that hangs in my classroom. i imagined a gunman coming into my room during a GSA meeting. i imagined the parents that came screaming down to the last board meeting to decry the queer representation in a single book about to be approved.

i have these fantasies about being heroic and cogent and wise, and changing the school for the better. and then i have these nightmares where i’m looking death in the face and have to do something, do something immediate and violent and risky, to make sure my kids don’t die in front of me. and i have this fear too, that if something really did happen, i wouldn’t be brave enough, fast enough, smart enough, strong enough. that i’d be dead or a coward or both.

i can’t sleep sunday nights bc i’m so excited to go to work, but so scared. my brain is a neon light blinking all night long about what if this, what if that. what if i’m really amazing at this and everyone thinks i’m great. what if i do it for attention and clout. what if i don’t do it at all. what if i do it but don’t do it well. what if i trick everyone into thinking i’m brave and selfless but really i just wanted to perform. what if i fail. what if i let the kids down. what if a 31-year-old queer professional can’t show a 15-year-old that there’s a future for them outside the closet. what if i inspire them too much and someone gets hurt.

what if what if what if

i feel like i’m holding a jar of wasps that i’m about to open, but before i open it, i’m going to shake it, knowing full well i’m about to get stung.

#text #teaching

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fabuloustrash05 · 2 months

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10 Donatello Headcanons

He’s fluent in the most languages out of his brothers. He knows Japanese (Leo is more fluent than him tho), French, Latin, knows Morse code, sign language and can read lips.

He has secret storage areas and safes hidden around the lair to keep personal things away from his brothers such as sweet treats and snacks, rare collector items and spare cash.

He helps make his family money by working part time as a hotline for IT support, helping people fix their computers and other tech items through a phone call.

He is the one everyone trusts the most with personal matters. Oftentimes his brothers or friends will visit him in the lair while he’s working and rant to him about their day/problems. Everyone says he’s “such a good listener” because he doesn’t judge or interpret you. He just agrees and nods along as they talk. Turns out (and unknown to everyone), he isn’t actually paying attention or even listening. He’s too focused on his work to realize someone is using him as a free therapist.

He has written hundreds of love letters/poems confessing his feelings for April, but she hasn’t read a single one of them. He never had the courage to give her any of them, thinking they weren't good enough, so Donnie stores and hidden them in one of his many secret safes he has hidden around the lair.

He loves peanut butter. His favorite types of snacks or treats have peanut butter in them. Reese's peanut butter cups, PB&Js, apple slices dipped in peanut butter, you name it!

He’s terrified of large needles and getting shots. He also has a slight fear of bees/wasps/hornets, specifically because of their stingers. But unlike Raph, he is better at hiding this little phobia.

The gap in his tooth was caused because he was a thumb sucker as a baby. Though Splinter tried his best to stop this bad habit while Donnie was growing up, Donnie didn't stop sucking his thumb till he was 4 years old, resulting in the gap teeth. So he really needs braces.

He loves romantic comedies. They are his guilty pleasure.

Despite everyone's assumptions, the debate of science vs magic does not bother him. He's experienced magic and paranormal things before so to him there’s no point in arguing about it. What truly gets under his skin is stupid over the top conspiracy theories such as "gravity is not real", "moon landing was fake", "the earth is flat", etc. Shinigami is the one who likes to mess with him the most on this subject since she knows the magic vs science discussion wont make him snap.

Michelangelo Headcanons | Raphael Headcanons | Leonardo Headcanons

#FabTrash headcanons #tmnt headcanons #tmnt 2012 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #tmnt donnie 2012 #donatello hamato

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sibillascribbles08 · 3 months

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Man I've written 26 fics for rise, that's insane, anyway here's a master post, sort of? I realized some people either A) may not know how many different fics I've written or B) not realized "oh he wrote that" sooo

One Shots

Don't You Care? – Donnie and Leo centric, post-movie. Donnie isn't always great with feelings, and when he fails to understand Leo's, he tries to find a way to fix it. Doing so forces him to unpack some of his own thoughts on their victory over the kraang as well.

To Bridge a Canyon of your Own Design – Splinter centric, post-movie, a bit of a retrospective on his relationship with his sons, his depression, and him trying to move away from his unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I Didn't Vote for You – Leo's the leader now, and Donnie always finds ways to argue with him about it. Leo wants to find out why Donnie has such a problem with how he's trying to lead the team, but it turns out that isn't the problem. It's simply the fact that Leo's the leader at all.

I'd Give Anything – Donnie-centric. A slightly alternate take on the movie's ending where instead of just firing a drill into the portal, Donnie jumped in, and ends up losing an arm in the process. But he has to kind of piece all of that together as he recovers in the med bay, talking to each of his family members.

Grappling With Things Beyond Your Control – Gift fic for my friend Bat! Donnie-centric, post season 2. Suddenly getting ninpo with no prior training causes Donnie's powers to start to run amok, and on top of that he has to help his family not only find a new home but move into one. It's a lot to balance, maybe too much to balance.

Four Turtles in your Corner (Store) – A silly fic about April being out of supplies for her period, and in desperation sends the boys to go get her some. I'm sure four reptilian mutants have competent knowledge on what humans need for things like this.

Now Lie In It – Big Bang fic! Takes place during season 2. Leo won't sleep, and ends up getting on Donnie's nerves. The softshell's solution to the problem is a simple sleep potion, but when he pours too much into Leo's tea his brother won't wake up. Time to force April and Draxum to go find an antidote while he hides his mistake from the rest of his family. (it sounds angsty but it's comedic, actually)

What Will You Leave Behind – Big Bang fic! Doomed timeline, Raph centric. Raph is the first of his siblings to die during the war. And while he does everything he can to be their ever present pillar as they eventually follow after, he can't help but loathe the fact that the ones still down there are suffering and he can't do anything to help.

My Words Died With You – Gift fic for Bat! Doomed timeline, Donnie centric. Donnie quit speaking when Raphael died, months later he still isn't. His family tries to help him cope with this, even Raphael does from the afterlife, but it may not be enough.

VHHB series

(These are all post-movie)

My Roommate the Troubled Time Traveler – Casey and Draxum centric. Casey Jones Jr. isn't coping too great with being in the present, and trying to live in the lair isn't helping. So Mikey has the GREAT idea to convince Draxum to let Casey be his roommate. The alchemist thinks this is a terrible idea, but he might be able to help the kid far more than he realizes.

Violet Hues and Holly Blue – Donnie centric. 8 months after the kraang invasion and Donnie's been the reigning champ in the Battle Nexus for a while, in his attempts to improve his mystic abilities. But this draws the attention of a business focused wasp named Holly Blue who offers to help sell his tech designs in the Hidden City. Donnie ends up agreeing, having to keep that secret from his family too, but eventually they're going to find out. (This is only a partial summary haha sorry, fic is heckin long)

Missing Pages – Just some VHHB extras, but hey it features Big Mama being herself, Lou Jitsu maiming some people, Donnie dealing with past blood on his hands and uuuuh Leo and Holly becoming friends (what a mood whiplash)

You Are Loved – Two-shot fic about the Caseys (of the Senior and Junior variety). Casey Jr. wants to know why his ninpo sprung up so suddenly, and in his search to find out discovers his family is much closer than he realizes. Meanwhile Cassandra is struggling with her place among the Hamatos, it doesn't help when she finds out they're keeping a pretty big secret from her. Hopefully they can make it up to her.

The Sun and Icarus – Mikey-centric. He's been doing pretty good at developing his mystic abilities lately, but now they're starting to explode, pretty violently. And it turns out if this keeps up the whole ordeal could just kill him. Better find a way to put a cap on it, or something to that effect. (Wow more power overloading fics from ME)

Girls' Night – April centric one shot, also April/Sunita. She's just trying to have a fun night out with the girls, inviting Holly Blue along for the ride, but maybe that was a mistake because in her attempts to playfully tease the wasp, she's suddenly forced to confront her own crush.

And For my Next Trick – Leo-centric one shot. Leo's getting frustrated with his lack of progress on his mystic powers, and with Hueso's advice decides to shift his focus to a different kind of magic, stage magic. With Hueso Jr.'s help, he plans to put on an entire show, which should be fine if some other magician doesn't show up to steal the show.

Look Up Hero in the Dictionary – Raph centric. Raph's feeling a bit too idle in the city lately, with only minor crimes going on, but in his wish for something exciting a strange explosion happens at an apartment building. He attempts to help everyone escape, but a yokai holding the building together stays behind, and on top of that charges Raph with the task to take care of her child. Have fun taking care of a powerful psychic seven-year old, Raph.

What You're Made Of - Casey Jr. centric. Casey is getting frustrated with discovering weird things about his body like skin problems and peanut allergies. Draxum suggests he find out who his other parent is to get an idea of his genetic history, but when he finds out who it is, he's kind of ticked off that his family never told him. (this is a bio dad Raph fic for the record).

Off Colors AU (Separated AU)

Off Colors: Contrasts - Covers season 1. Leonardo's spent most of his life believing he's an only child because his little brother was kidnapped when they were only toddlers. But a rescue mission to the Hidden City with his best friend April results in him finding out he actually has three siblings. And in the span of a couple of weeks he finds out all of them are alive and, unfortunately, working for bad guys. He's going to try everything he can to stop them and convince them to come home, but it may be a fools errand.

Other Chaptered Fics

An Alien Invasion Happened but That's Not Really What This is About - Long ass title. Jason-centric. Hi I wrote a novella sized fic about what happens to this kid during and after the events of the movie. Watch him attempt badly to cope with trauma while also fixing his relationship with his very queer dad who loves him a lot.

Artificial Phoenix – Lou Jitsu died in the arena but then Big Mama said no no no! So Draxum brings him back to life while mutating four turtles so Lou Jitsu said NO NO NO! And he took them and ran. Alternate take on the events of the show, where Splinter is undead and unmutated, and unfortunately does not keep his soul in his body the entire time, leaving his sons grieving and desperate to get him back.

Jasonnie things

Not Part of the Plan – Donnie centric. Despite knowing time travel exists, Donnie is still surprised to find his future self in his lab. But his excitement at the possibilities is swiftly crushed as his future self has an easy time embarrassing him. He hopes he can at least gather some useful information in the process, but he slowly begins to wonder if he even wants answers to all these questions.

You Have to Let Him Go – Donnie centric also sad as hell. I literally just wanted to write about how Donnie's husband hecking dies. Read this if you want to be miserable. (or if you hate Jase I guess ??? alskdjf man got char grilled (I have to make jokes to keep myself from being upset shh))

I'll Put the Knife in Your Hand – Well, now that Donnie heard about his possible future husband, he's determined to at least get to know the guy. Unfortunately his family is far more cautious about this than he seems to be. AKA Four times Donnie's family believes Jase is planning to stab him in the back, and the one time he actually does.

ERR_FILE_NOT_FOUND - Donnie is messing around with his mind machine again, and in the process ends up erasing part of his memory. Specifically the memories about Jase, and Jase is barely handling this well. Good thing Donnie's brothers who totally and absolutely are on good terms with Jase are there to help. Maybe.

Dual Dragons - Collab fic with @there-wolf ! A fic in which our versions of Jason end up encountering each other and even switching universes temporarily, giving them a window into how their life could be different (for better or worse).

#scribs speaks #long post #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #aw jeez this got long oops #and there will be more #uh oh #just take this for now #the difference in interaction on some of these was getting to me again #but I realize so much stuff can end up under the radar sooo #if you like some of my fics check out some of the others #with more condensed summaries

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dameronology · 8 months

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be still (matt murdock)

summary: matt is the only one who he'll let get close when he has a bad day

warnings: just language ig

sorry for dropping off the face of the earth for months and not writing a single thing. this might be my comback, or all you will get for another year. we'll see! love u all.

To the rest of the world, Matt Murdock was hard to read.

To you, he was like your favourite book. One you’d read a thousand times; with a plot line you knew like the back of your hand. Every bump on his skin; every raised scar and jagged red wound from his night shifts; you knew the story behind them all. The long pink line on his back was fall out from a fight with the Yakuza two years back. The deep, sunken jag on his right hand was from an unfortunate incident when he was chopping up some vegetables two years ago. I might have super senses, he’d joked, but there are some things you just need sight for.

Matt’s emotions were no different. There were days when even Foggy wasn’t sure what he was thinking – whether his stony face was from boredom or anger, or whether his smile was happiness or just a slightly misshapen grimace. With a life as complicated as his, it wasn’t surprising that Matt came with the feeling to match. In the early days of your relationship, it was something you’d struggled with, but now you knew his signals and his tells. You could see a bad mood coming from a mile off, almost like a thunderstorm on a summer day. Equally, you knew his good moods from the way he would greet you brightly in the morning, or his anxious ones from the way he held your hand. They weren’t always easy to forecast but at least it made things a little more predictable.

A cold Tuesday morning in the fall was no different. September had just come, bringing with it shorter days and colder nights. The tension in your bedroom was high from the moment you woke up – actually, it had been since the small hours of the morning. Matt had come crashing in without a word, gear ditched to the floor. Any questions of his wellbeing or how his night had been ignored as he passed out beside you, back turned the other way. His snores had been the first thing you’d heard from him that night – not a single word, not even a grunt. You could feel an invisible line down the middle of the bed. It wasn’t one you wanted to cross.

You woke up naturally with the daylight- perks of it being a Sunday, you figured (though not a silver lining. Today didn’t feel like a day to be looking for those). Matt was still, tired body heaving with deep breaths as he slept. It was hard to shake the feeling of anxiety that had snuck its way into your stomach; butterflies now felt like wasps and any previous inclination you’d had to reach out to him had died with the hope of him waking up before you and apologising.

“Dickhead,” you muttered.

(You knew he would hear you).

Still, you knew something was up. Even if he’d projected it onto you by swatting your hands away last night and completely blanking you, something was up. It took a moment of building up the courage in your head, but as Matt let out a yawn and rolled over, you quickly moved to snuggle into his side. His hands were on his front, so you made a second attempt to tangle your fingers with his. He didn’t comply, but he didn’t resist either. You stayed like that for a moment, until his dark eyes shot open, and he let out a heavy sigh.

You could have pretended to still be asleep, purely just to avoid dealing with the situation, but who were you fooling? The man was like a human sonar. He would know immediately from your breathing that you were awake. Plus, your not-so-quiet insult just moments earlier didn’t exactly align with something you could brush off as sleep talk.

Matt sat up, blinking for a moment. Any other morning, he would have pulled you into him; pressed a kiss to your forehead and held you tight. Not today, though. He snatched his hand away from yours and shrugged you off, pattering across the wooden floor out the bedroom and to the bathroom. The door slammed and a second later, you heard the spattering of the shower.

You stayed there for a second, heart thumping in your chest and heard swirling with thoughts. Why was he being shitty? Was it your fault? No, you told yourself. It wasn’t fair on you to jump to those conclusions. If he had a problem, it was on him to tell you. You’d made it clear from day one that you hated guessing games. Guess Who was one thing but Guess Why I’m Angry At You had no winners.

The water eventually stopped. Rather than coming back through to the bedroom as he normally would, there was silence. You frowned for a moment – what the fuck was he doing? Was he actually that intent on avoiding you?

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, swinging your legs out of bed and heading out of the bedroom. Matt was the first thing you saw in the living room, skin still covered in droplets of water from the sofa, butt fuck naked. He had a file open in front of him, callous fingers following over the braille as he read it, barely pausing to acknowledge your presence. You could have made a comment about him getting your thousand-dollar sofa wet, even a joke, but that didn’t feel like the right play.

“Hey,” you said.

No answer.

“I have to ask,” you continued, crossing the room and taking a seat beside him. Not close enough for your legs to be touching, but close enough that he knew you were there. “Have I done something?”

“No,” he murmured. “I’m just tired.”

His voice was barely above a whisper – barely even there. Something was seriously wrong.

“Okay,” you hummed.

You stayed like that for a moment – even though you could predict Matt’s mood, you couldn’t always predict what he wanted. If you touched him, would he flinch, or would the front come down? It was like hugging a nuclear bomb, even if the idea of his temper coming out on you was unfathomable.

“Do you want a coffee?” you gently asked.

Another pause.

“Yeah. I could do with a coffee.”

Trying to keep your nerves feigned, you crossed the room to the kitchen, hands working automatically. Kettle filled, turned on, two mugs out. One sugar and a tiny bit of milk for Matt, and then two sugars and no milk for you. He liked the blue mug, because it was easier to hold, and you preferred the purple one because it was the same shade of violet as the dress Taylor wore on the front of Speak Now. You’d brought it in a clearance sale when you and Matt just started seeing each other, and it was one of the first things you actually kept at his apartment.

You returned to the sofa, placing the coffee on the table in front of you. There was still no word from Matthew – not even a hm in place of a thank you.

“You’re worrying me,” you murmured.

Blanked.

Rolling your eyes – and finally getting sick of his head – you whacked the file out his hands and collapsed into his side. He didn’t immediately respond, but a moment later, his hand came down to touch your thigh. He gave your leg a squeeze, and you felt a minute bit of tension rise from the room. Not all of it, but the physical touch was enough to know that things would be okay.

You stayed like that for a moment, before wrapping your arms around him completely. You fell back into the sofa, letting Matt collapse into your chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, skin sticking to yours from where he was still drying, but you didn’t give a shit. You just wanted to hold him, hands roaming over his tense back, stopping on his shoulder blades and using your grip to pull him closer.

“Let’s go back to bed,” you said. “Just for a little while.”

He didn’t resist as you took his hand, tangling your fingers together and leading him back to the bedroom. Matt was hot on your heels, like a lost puppy now, and there was barely a second between you falling back first onto the bed and him following you. His entire body was on yours, legs tangling into a web and arms digging underneath your torso to hug you, head buried in your shoulder. He was limp – almost completely void of emotion.

Whatever barrier Matt had been putting up was gone, because as soon as you tangled a hand in his hair you could feel his hot tears on your skin. He’d only cried in front of you once before and that had been when you’d nearly died after a minor mishap (though he’d argue it was probably more). That meant that whatever had happened on patrol last night must have fucked him up a little – you didn’t want to ask, but you didn’t want to him to think he couldn’t talk about it.

“I’m here if you need,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “If you just wanna lay here or you just wanna talk, I’m right here.”

“Thank you,” his voice was still quiet. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Don’t apologise,” you shook your head. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied.

You tightened your grip on him and he tried to shuffle closer, even though it wasn’t physically possible. You were completely skin to skin and chest to chest, his forehead flush with your collarbone. It was raining outside now, the sound of water hitting the window filling the room with where tension used to be. That was gone now – maybe it hadn’t been there at all, just a figment of your anxiety.

You felt Matt’s eyelashes brush against your skin as he closed your eyes. Sleep was good. It was probably what you both needed, and with his warm, heavy body on yours, it was also hard to resist.

(All you could do was hope that you didn’t need to pee any time soon).

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock reader insert #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil imagines #marvel imagines

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talialovesmiw · 3 months

Text

Chris Motionless x Reader

Shades of Purple

Part 2: Violet

Warnings: Language, Mention of Ronnie Radke, angst, lil bit of fluff

A/N: So sorry this took a bit to come out, writers block is a bitch sometimes and now I’m in a band so some of my focus is with that, so please be patient with me :,)

(also that pic of Chris has me in a chokehold 🤭)

Taglist: @skulliecadaver-blog @witchyweeb34 @cookiesupplier @raydenrrobertson @sakuracyberhex @beaker1636 @lyschko666 @black-damask1999 @synthetic-wasp-570 @jilliemiw86 @tearfallpixie @vinyardmauro @thatchickwiththecamera @bloody-delusion-expert @th0ughts-pr4yers @zuberweirrd

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/talialovesmiw/740770553010454528/shades-of-purple

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/talialovesmiw/742491105694810112/shades-of-purplel

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Y/N’s POV

“Oh, one more thing..” The man said, catching my attention. I stopped in my tracks to look at him. “That’s a lovely shade of purple on you, darling.”

I could feel myself blushing at his compliment. “O-oh, thank you.” I stuttered before turning my head quickly to hide my blush.

I could hear him chuckle before walking the other way.

“Be seeing you, little dove.” He said before he was gone.

Woah.

That man…

He was quite the charmer, wasn’t he?

The whole time I walked to the holding room, I thought about him. The way he spoke so intelligently, the way he smiled..

The girls must’ve taken notice of how I was acting based on their reactions while we were waiting for Todd and Elizabeth.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Your face is red.” Aurora asked, glancing at me with concern.

“Is it? Oh god.” I said, rubbing my arm.

“Run into anyone cute?” Estella asked with a wink.

I averted my eyes in the other direction, smiling shyly, “Perhaps..”

“Ooo, was he cute?” Estella asked curiously, leaning forward.

“Yeah, he was. He was rather charming..” I admitted, blushing a bit.

“Aw, that’s so cute! You’re blushing!” Aurora pointed out, smiling.

I laughed nervously and shrugged it off, “It’s not important though. It’s not like I’ll see him again anyway.”

“There you girls are!” Elizabeth shouted, walking into the room. “Come now, the bidding is about to start!” She guided us to the back stage, where a bunch of other people were standing.

“Make us good money now.” Todd said, walking to the back corner with Elizabeth, crossing his arms.

I could hear the spokesman welcoming everyone to the auction.

Here we go…

My last moments of freedom..

I could feel my heart racing, how I hadn’t passed out yet was beyond me.

The group of people got smaller and smaller as they were put on the stage for vampires to bid on.

I could see poor Aurora next to be out on stage. We shot glances at each other and waved goodbye for the last time. My heart hurt as I saw her walk away. I’d never see her again. I’d never see her or Estella ever again. My best friends would be gone from my life and that fucked with my heart.

There was one thing I couldn’t get off my mind however..

The encounter I had with that man still played in my head.

The way that he saved me from my possible death and acted as if it was no big deal..

A part of me hoped to see him again..

………………………………………………………….

Third Person POV

Little did Y/N know, Christopher couldn’t keep her out of his mind either.

She was a pretty thing, wasn’t she?

Yes, that girl in that plum purple dress had caught the vampire’s attention as she ran down those halls, desperately searching for that damned holding room.

He had watched closely as she bumped into Ronnie, and how he had almost taken advantage of her. He couldn’t have that, could he? Chris had already disliked the other vampire, and seeing him try and hurt an innocent pissed him off.

He took satisfaction in pissing off the other male and ruining his fun, but he was also happy to have helped her.

The way her cheeks flushed when he complimented her…simply adorable.

She had been very thankful to him for her rescue, but a bit anxious at the same time. Then it clicked when she mentioned the holding room.

She was one of the humans to be auctioned off.

The poor girl was probably terrified, what if she had ended up in the hands of someone like Radke? What if RADKE HIMSELF had her to himself? The thought of that disgusted him.

Originally, Chris wasn’t going to participate in the auction, just watch from the side. He had made the excuse to get a number just to get away from the annoying Ronnie. Now, he was going to get a number. That girl intrigued him.

Perhaps she was what he was in search of this whole time. He had to try.

He had gone to another room to receive a number. When he entered, all eyes were on him, intrigued by his presence. The person behind the table raised a brow.

“Huh. So the rumors are true. The mysterious Christopher Cerulli is participating in this year’s auction.” He said, handing the number to Chris.

#570

Chris chuckled, “Don’t expect to see me at future auctions. This is a one time thing.”

“Gonna drain the human slowly then, I see? Make em’ suffer? I like it.” The man said with a smirk. Chris mentally cringed at his words.

Of course he would. Disgusting pig..

Chris raised his brows before giving him a half smile, trying to hide his disgust. “Sure, think of it like that.” Chris turned and started leaving the room, “Good day.”

“Enjoy the bidding.”

Chris made his way down the halls and to the auditorium where all the vampires waited for the auction to begin. An usher escorted him down to his seat and Chris immediately froze when he saw who he’d be sitting next to.

Ronnie..

Ronnie glared at Chris, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Is there a problem here gentlemen?” The usher asked as Chris turned to him.

“There is. I refuse to sit next to HIM.” Chris said, crossing his arms.

“For once, I agree with him.” Ronnie added, a sour look on his face. Neither one wanted to be next to each other.

“Too bad, it’s assigned seating. Deal with it.” The usher stated before walking away. Chris cursed under his breath before begrudgingly sitting in his seat.

“Do not speak a single fucking word to me.” Chris muttered to Ronnie. Ronnie rolled his eyes in response.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our annual auction!” A voice boomed over a speaker. The two turned to see the spokesman on the stage. “This year marks 350 years of this fantastic event!”

The room erupted into cheers and applause. “Now let’s get this auction started, shall we?”

The first human stepped out, a young woman with long blonde locks and green eyes, wearing a baby blue dress.

“$100!” A voice echoed through the room.

“I’ve got $100. Do we have any higher bids?” The spokesman called.

“$250!” Another called.

“$250! We got $250! Going once? Going twice?” No answer from the crowd. “Sold to #47! You may claim your prize in room B.”

The poor girl had a look of fear on her face as she was escorted to another room.

Another woman was brought onto the stage. She had been sold for $430.

Then another was sold for $550.

Soon, Aurora was brought out onto the stage. She had been shaking with fear as she stepped onto the floor to be presented to the hundreds of vampires.

$400!”

“$400! Do we have any higher bids?”

$750!”

$750! Any higher bids for the lovely little thing?”

“$900!”

“900! Going once? Going twice? Sold to #652! You may claim your prize in room B.”

Y/N watched in horror as her friend was taken away. She could feel tears pooling in her eyes.

“No…poor Aurora..” She whispered in disbelief, feeling the tears running down her face. She knew her friends would be sold, but fuck… It hurt seeing the ones she cared about get taken away by those heartless demons.

She then saw Estella glance over at her with a look of sadness before she was escorted onto the stage. The tears started coming down harder.

No, no this wasn’t fair!

None of this was fair or right! It simply wasn’t humane.

Not like anybody else cared that it wasn’t fair. This event had been going on for centuries!

“Sold to #389! You may claim your prize!”

“Estella…” Y/N said, sadness completely taking over. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She broke down and started crying.

The only girls she had ever truly loved were now gone. She was alone. All alone.

“Oh for heaven's sake!” Elizabeth’s voice interrupted Y/N’s thoughts as the woman stormed over. “You’ll ruin your makeup with those tears! Quit the tears you brat!” She said, rubbing a handkerchief over Y/N’s face. Todd glanced over at the stage.

“You’re up next, Y/N. Now don’t disappoint us.” Todd warned.

“That’s right darling. Bring us good money with that beauty!” Elizabeth added, quickly changing her tone. Y/N could feel a pit of disgust pooling in her belly.

“I hate you both. I hope you rot in hell where you belong..” She whispered, glaring at the two before walking nervously onto the stage.

She could feel the hungry stares and greedy eyes take her in as she stood before the crowd. Ronnie was one of them staring at her like this.

Fuck..

“$900!” A male voice called.

“$900! Do we have any higher bids?”

“$1500!” Another voice called. This one sounded familiar. Eerily familiar.

Radke…

Y/N could feel herself become consumed with fear. She couldn’t end up with him, he’d be horrible, she could feel it!

“$1500! Any higher bids?”

Christopher’s eyes shot open as he realized who was on that stage. It was that girl…The girl in the plum dress. He knew he had to act fast. He couldn’t let Ronnie have her.

“$2,000!” Christopher shouted, earning a glare from Ronnie.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she recognized the voice. It was the man that had saved her! What the fuck was going on?

“$2,000! My, what a price!” The spokesman remarked, “Any higher bids?”

“$5,000!” Ronnie yelled.

“Holy- $5,000! Any-“

“$10,000!” Chris yelled back, interrupting the spokesman.

“$25,000!” Ronnie yelled, before leaning back, crossing his arms and smirking. It was in the bag for him. Nobody could beat that price and he knew it.

“Oh god..” Y/N whispered, her fate becoming oh so clear. It was terrifying.

Chris was about to lose the girl to that asshole..

He had to come up with a good price. Something he knew Ronnie couldn’t beat. He had to act quickly, this girl’s life could be on the line..

“$25,000! Going once, going twice-“

“$50,000!” Chris shouted, standing up. The whole room went silent. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat.

“Sold to #570! You may claim your prize in room B!”

Ronnie’s jaw dropped. Did he seriously just lose? He lost to Christopher, a man he had despised. He couldn’t believe it. Chris smiled with satisfaction.

“My what an exciting event!” The spokesman exclaimed cheerfully. “Thank you all for attending! See you next year!”

…………………………………………………………

Y/N’s POV

“$25,000!” I heard Radke’s voice yell.

Fuck.

I was screwed. There was no way I wasn’t ending up in the hands of that creep.

“$25,000! Going once, going twice-“ I could’ve sworn my heart stopped as the spokesman sealed my fate.

“$50,000!” That familiar voice shouted. It was that man..

“Sold to #570! You may claim your prize in room B!”

I stood frozen on the stage in complete shock. The man that had saved me from Radke had just won me over Radke…

I wasn’t sure what to think.

Should I be scared? Should I be angry? Should I be…relieved?

I mean…he did seem nice when we first met. Most probably wouldn’t have stepped in but he did.

But…was it because he didn’t like Radke?

Or was it because he cared about the safety of others?

Who knows…he could’ve just been buttering me up so I’d fall right into his trap of being his prey. He’d say all these pretty words and charm me, only to buy me and use me for food. I shuddered at the thought.

“Move it along.” One of the ushers said, grabbing my arm and dragging me to room B. I was too caught up in my thoughts to care that I was being manhandled. I was pushed into the room and heard the door close behind me.

There weren’t many people left in there, other vampires had picked up their humans. They all had this look of hopelessness, as if they had already accepted their fates. It was such a sad sight, rather depressing honestly.

The door opened again and I turned my head to see the man who had bought me. He glanced around before his eyes landed on me. He smiled softly as he approached me before standing before me. God he was tall. I felt small compared to him.

“Hello again, little dove.” He greeted, his voice was gentle. It was rather calming in a way, easing my nerves slightly. I was still pretty scared however. I bit my lip as I looked in the other direction.

He seemed to have sensed my discomfort so he reached his gloved hand out, gently guiding my face so I was looking at him. “I do not intend on hurting you in any sort of way, I promise. That’s the last thing I want.” He said, speaking softly.

“Then what do you want from me? Some sort of plaything? A slave?” I questioned, moving my head away and hugging my arms.

“I’ll explain things in private. Now is not the time, not in this place.” He extended his hand out to me. “Please, believe me when I tell you I have no intent on harming you.”

I was hesitant to take his hand. He could be lying to me to make me think I was safe. I looked back up at him, still feeling uncertain.

“Do you trust me, little dove?” He asked softly, his hand still extended as he patiently waited for my answer.

Did I trust him? Not really. Though it wasn’t like I had much of a choice anymore. Then again, he did save my life, twice thinking about it. Maybe he did have my best interest at heart.

I cautiously placed my hand into his, a strange sense of comfort washing over me at the feeling of his leather glove. His hand was much bigger than my own. He gave me a gentle smile as he intertwined our fingers. He led me out of the room and we started walking down the halls. There was an uncomfortable silence as we walked.

“I-I… never got your name earlier..” I muttered, breaking the silence.

“It’s Christopher, but Chris is fine.” He said, glancing at me.

Chris…

It had a nice ring to it..

“Y/N..” I said quietly, not looking at him.

“Y/N? How fitting.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.” He said, smiling at me. I could feel myself blushing.

“Oh um, thanks..” I stuttered, looking away, feeling a bit shy now.

We walked outside to a black BMW which I assumed to be his car. He opened the passenger door for me and I stepped in, sitting down in the car. He opened the driver door and sat down and started the car. He started driving, and an awkward silence fell between us yet again.

“Listen, I truly have no intention of hurting you or drinking your blood. I don’t care for that. You don’t deserve that.” He spoke, breaking the silence.

He…didn’t want my blood? What?

“You…don’t want my blood?” I asked, a bit shocked.

“I don’t really need it. I usually just drink from something that’s sick or dying.”

“But don’t you get sick like that?” I asked, tilting my head.

He shook his head, “No, vampires are immune to diseases like that. We can only get sick from each other, which is still rather uncommon.”

Now I was even more confused. If he didn’t want my blood, then what did he want from me?

“Then…what do you want with me?” I asked slowly, watching as he pulled into the driveway of a rather large estate. He was silent, not speaking for a moment. He seemed to be in deep thought. After a few moments of silence before he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“I know this may sound strange, but I went to the auction because…I was in search of a companion..”

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avonne-writes · 1 month

Text

Lunch break

(High school AU, Brady’s POV, Buck has long hair. I'm writing a complete fic in this verse, but I had a conversation with @hogans-heroes that inspired this drabble 💕)

Johnny falls into his usual chair in the cafeteria with a heavy sigh. It’s Monday, undoubtedly the worst day of the week, and he has just had double Trigonometry with Bucky. That’s like having two classes at once, one about triangles and shit, and another in parallel with that on how Buck makes his sandwiches. Or how he leaves strands of his long hair on Bucky’s pillow. TMI, if anyone were to ask him, but no one bothered with that even once since fate decided he should be John Egan's friend.

Whatever. It’s lunchtime. He's starving. He tucks into his fries with an enthusiasm that makes Benny laugh at him from across the table, and he holds up his middle finger in response. Someone claps him on the shoulder, and he hears Curt's rambling, periodically interspersed with swear words as if they stood in for punctuation marks. If Curt sits next to him, it means Buck and Bucky are going to take the chairs beside Benny, which Johnny doesn’t miss to rub in with a smirk shot in Benny's direction. It’s a 50-50 with those two, whether they're a blast to be around or permanent third wheel pain, but it's usually worse in the beginning of the week because they spend the weekends lost in their own little world.

Benny makes a deadpan face at him just as Bucky's tray lands on the table beside him, as predicted.

"Just saying." Bucky continues making some kind of point to Buck, who doesn’t comment on it with more than a playfully raised eyebrow. He rolls a brown hair tie off his wrist and puts his blond hair up in a messy bun. Bucky might as well be eating him for lunch, with the way he’s practically drooling at him.

"It’s something." He says.

"Hm-m." Buck hums and puts his arm on the back of Bucky's chair, behind Bucky's back. They look at each other, seemingly still in conversation although neither says a word, then Bucky breaks into a blindingly happy grin and reaches out to squeeze Buck's cheeks.

Curt gags with an exaggerated, gross sound. "All right, all right, knock it off, there are kids present." He gestures at Johnny.

Johnny shoves at him, smiling. "Fuck you." Curt grins back.

"Aw, don't be jealous, Curtie, you can still be my little spoon." Bucky winks at Curt even though his hand is clearly on Buck's thigh under the table. Buck, for his part, ignores them both and starts eating with the hand not draped behind his boyfriend.

"Hey, I'm the big spoon here." Curt returns, then launches into another story, something about a giant wasp nest video he saw the other day. Benny automatically perks up at the mention of animals, no matter how creepy, and he leans forward in his seat as he and Curt start talking over each other about it.

Johnny can’t say he’s interested. He puts another handful of fries in his mouth and glances at the opposite corner of the table. Buck and Bucky are staring at each other again until Buck mouths a word that Johnny can’t hear, something that causes Bucky to burst into near manic cackling. In contrast to the volume of his laugh, Bucky's reply is a whisper that makes Buck grin at his plate.

"It’s something." Buck drawls in his enviably low voice, and Bucky smiles ever wider before leaning in close and pressing a kiss to Buck's lips.

Curt throws a napkin at them. "Hey, I wanna eat here!"

Johnny raises his eyebrows in exasperation and shakes his head at his plate. Mondays, right?

#mota #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #john brady #curtis biddick #benny demarco #hs au

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