#also i'm moving out of state so i'm busy as FUCK packing all my shit

[bambi-kinos]

I really enjoy your meta and look forward to more mclennon analysis. Out of curiosity, you mentioned that you think they started being physical in 1964 - is there a reason why that year specifically? Personally, I've always thought they started sleeping together in 1963, and my reasoning for that is they seem much closer in videos/photos, not to mention it was the year they "broke through", so to speak.

Would love to hear your thoughts on that!

Hmm well I guess it depends on how they, and we, define their sex life. John and Paul were sexually intimate starting since they were teenagers because John brought Paul into the group wanks. (tbh it's a miracle Paul didn't brain John with something heavy thanks to all that Winston Churchilling.) There's really no telling how it progressed from there, anything is possible with these two. Until Paul tells us the details (and I do not put it past him) then he and John could have been hooking up at literally any point in their relationship. When I think of them getting physical with each other, I'm thinking of them getting each other off with intent and purpose, and considering the style of the time this would mean penetration. Everything else can be handwaved away.

I pick 1964 because of this post: https://www.tumblr.com/got-ticket-to-ride/739464905120497664/its-the-anniversary-day-of-john-and-paul-in-paris?source=share

It's just something about it, y'know. John and Paul are in their city. They stayed up all night and well into the morning and then slept deep into the afternoon, almost evening. And then as GTTR says, "And then they emerge from their hotel room looking like a newlywed couple."

Well, there's just a certain satisfaction radiating off them isn't there?

But I do see your point: why wouldn't they be hooking up earlier? Why wouldn't it escalate physically before this? Why would they wait until Paris 1964?

I have a few reasons, they are admittedly flimsy but since we are all just making shit up then it's fine, right?

Julian was born in 1963. I've read bits and pieces of Beatles 1963 by Rees and that book is full of little chunks about John running home to see Cynthia and the baby (usually not even for a full night/day because he was so busy.) Their schedule is also packed, they are constantly on the move especially during the night because this is where they had to start being smuggled out of theaters and such. So I genuinely think that John and Paul did not have the time or the space to have sex with each other. I know I am saying this when they had time to hook up with groupies between shows but considering who John and Paul are, and what they mean to one another, I just struggle to imagine them acting that way with one another. They would want to take their time with one another and get it right. They're hopeless romantics at heart, they're both deeply enamored with the idea of "you're special, you're different" so I genuinely think they would want to take their time with each other physically and do it right. I don't think they had that time in 1963 with the way they're running all over the UK.

Then there's the Absolute State of John and Paul's relationship in 1963. Remember that the halcyon days of Paris are way in the rearview mirror at this point. In 1962 Stuart died, Cynthia got pregnant, and John had to get married to save her reputation. I can't imagine Paul reacting well to any of this though I'm sure he put his cheery stoic mask on. Then in 1963, Julian is born. Barcelona happens and John seduces Brian to get the songwriting credit that he wanted and screws Paul out of their deal. Considering this is something Paul is still angry about to this day, I can't imagine how he blew his fucking top at John when he found out that May:

I don't think Paul was in the mood for any hooking up in 1963. John has a baby with a woman, is married, then he fucks off to have a gay experience with their manager and then when he comes back he's screwed Paul's side of the business on the downlow? I would be on the fucking six o' clock news lmao, John would not have escaped my wrath. It's really no wonder Paul made a specific point of hooking up with Jane Asher isn't it? He was making a point to John specifically and John seethed about it.

However I do think that something happened in 1963 that healed the rift in the Lennon-McCartney relationship:

Paul got sick from the gastric flu and he fainted dead away in the dressing room. John was very upset and was seen pacing the room when the doctor arrived to check on Paul. This is how we know that Paul actually fainted for real, if he was just feeling feverish John would be concerned but maybe not like that. @james-winston has a pair of really fantastic posts about the aftermath of the fainting incident that I have taken as gospel and I fully apply this to any McLennon analysis I write about this period. The key point though is this:

I have a headcanon that Paul being sick caused something to happen between John and Paul that left them both feeling awkward around each other. I don't think it is was sexual, I think it was more likely that John (who thought he was cursed to have all the men he loved die on him) was afraid something might happen to Paul, and reacted emotionally to it.

This all took place in November, after the Wooler thing, after the burn from Barcelona has had a chance to soften, after they both have had time to get used to the idea that Julian exists and has a place in their lives now. I think this was enough to mend things between them. And you know what else happened the night Paul fainted? Brian secured The Beatles their spot on Ed Sullivan:

So once Brian comes back and tells them the news, John and Paul flip right back into the honeymoon phase. The wounds of the past are forgotten (for now) and they're right back in each other's pockets. I think it's around this time period that Paul was taking photos that now make up Eye of the Storm.

TBH I can imagine John and Paul hooking up at this date. If someone looked at this and said "well this looks like a prelude to sweet love making to me" then that's perfectly reasonable. There's some suggestive photos in Eye of the Storm where Paul is taking John's picture from what looks to be a bathtub while John makes faces at him. It could have been then, absolutely.

But I like the idea that Paul wanted to wait until the next year. 1963 was rough on all of them and he and John are both big on getting new starts. Wait for 1964 to roll around. Brian says we're going to Paris in February. I can wait until then.

And just this once, it was worth it.

#mclennon #anonymous asks #talktalktalk #my meta #beatles meta #this was a really fun ask anon thank you

[chyberriesss]

Alone together

Bill denbrough x reader

Plot:[name] just moved to derry maine. Sadly, it looks like bill isnt the only one who wants them.

I suck at these😭😭

And yes, i was inspired by taylor swift's song dont question it.

More info (?):female reader heavily implied cause im a girl and i dont know how to write for a different gender sorry☹️☹️ also they/them pronouns are used!:))

It was the summer of 89, me and my mother just moved to the lone town of derry. School just finished and i felt like shit. Missing kids cases have been happening alot lately scaring the living shit out of me, i feel like im gonna get kidnapped any minute now, i wonder why tho.

Maybe i'm just being paranoid but i swear i felt eyes watch me as i pack my things to leave the classroom, i was alone, but it didn't feel like it.

I ignore what i felt and walked out heading straight to the bathroom to well, haha.

As i enter i saw gretta taunting some Beverly girl, I've heard about her before but i could care less. I felt bad tho, as i enter a stall to pee. 

Water splashed and leaked on the floor. I waited for gretta and her stupid friends to leave before knocking on the bathroom stall's door to check up on the girl.

"Hey you ok in there?" I asked "uh yeah!' she replied, it didn't convince me tho. 

She walked out the stall, she wasn't covered in anything but i could see her dress was wet. "Hey wait…! Your dress, its well, wet." I stated out the obvious, she just stared at me, WHY DID I SAY THAT.

"oh… yeah" she replied blankly staring at me. "Here, let me just-" i quickly got tissues and wiped her dress, not even finishing my sentence. "The names [name] by the way, nice to meet you" i needed friends don't blame me. "I know, we have the same classes, im bev, you probably know me already." I smiled at her, "nice to finally properly meet you ms marsh." "this isn't really a proper way of meeting someone but sure" she smiled "nice to meet you too." We walked out the stinky ass bathroom and talked for a while.

We finally got out the building bumping into the new kid, ben. He and bev talked about stuff i don't care about after we introduced ourselves. I was just standing there watching them, flirting? Bev grabbed Ben's yearbook and signed it. 

I felt like someone was watching me again, gives me the creeps man. I walked away, looking around trying to figure out who or what was looking at me.

A hand touched my left shoulder snapping me back to reality. It was bev, i forgot i was still with her, "you ok? You look kind of pale." "Im fine, just finally glad that hell hole of a place is done for a few weeks." I say pointing at the school building. She chuckled, "what happened to uh the new kid?" I ask "Ben, and nothing happened to him i just told him i didnt want to keep you waiting." She looked at me like i was some toddler whose impatient enough to just run-off, which i did. "So, you have to hots for him?" I ask "No? God no how did you even com up with that?" "I don't know" i laugh playfully and walked away with her, ignoring that eerie feeling im having.

_____________________________________________

"Why is there so many?!" I yelled in lowercase cause i have to be quiet for some reason."i know, lets just…. Get uh this one..?" Bev was unsure but went with the one she picked anyway.

We were suppose to walk up to the counter when we saw fucking gretta! "Holy shit holy shit holy shi-" We walked faster to the next aisle to see three dudes picking out medical supplies. Bev quickly hid the stuff we got at her back as they stare at us.

"You guys ok?" One of them asks "we're fine whats wrong with you" bev says "none of you're business" the one with curly hair says obviously uneasy with me and bev. "Theres a kid outside that looks like someone killed him" "w-we need some s–s-su-supplies but, we don't have enough money" they say explaining their intentions. "What the fuck" is all i reply.

"Do we reallyyy have to help them??" I whisper to bev hile walking to the cashier "You helped me clean my dress, it turned out great so why not help them?" She said looking at me then back at them. "Thats totally differe-" " i like your glasses mr. Keene" this girl is crazy i swear to god. "You look just like clark kent" i added smiling, this is so disgusting i tell you. "Oh hohoho i dont know about that" he says adjusting his glasses laughing, acting coy. Man he sure is weird and who even says hohoho??? You fucking Santa Claus or something? "Can i try them?" Bev asks, he looks around and says sure handing her the glasses. "You look even better without them mr. Keene." I compliment him, he smiled at me, making me wanna puke my organs out.

"What do you think?" Bev puts the glasses on, mr. keene leans closer to us, "well look at that, you look just like lois lane" he says smiling. What the actual fuck. 

"We should really get going, i mean we wouldn't wanna get in trouble for going out so long." I stated smiling at the both of them with a hint of irritation added to my tone. Bev hands him back the glasses 'accidently' knocking down the container of cigarettes. "Shoot im so sorry" she says "its okay" mr. keene says smiling. He leans down to pick up the cigarettes as i turn back to the three guys, signalling them to go now, they even manage to knock a few things down making me chuckle.

We bid our goodbyes to mr. Keene and left immediately.

"Jesus that was gross" i say "wouldn't want to do that ever again" bev added. 

As we walk down the street we saw the guy who stutters again.

"Um t-take this" he said pulling out a crumpled dollar "even steven" bev says flashing her stolen box of cigarettes. "I'll take it uh…" "bill m-m-my name's bill" "yeah, bill! I'll take this perfectly fine dollar." I smile at him making him turn away. I follow bev to the alley way and see the guys from earlier.

"Holy shit what happened to you" i ask kinda wide eyed when i saw new kid looking like a leaking hamburger. 

"Are you ok that looks like it hurts?" bev asks

"Nah im good… i just fell" ben smiled shyly

"Yeah right into henry bowers" some guy with glasses said making me chuckle, in turn making bev hit my arm. "Ouch" i whispered, rolling my eyes. "Shut it r-r-richie" guy from science class says "why?! Its the truth!" Richie, I assume, exclaimed.  

I keep getting this eerie feeling of someone staring at me again, I look around to see bill looking at me. And here i thought i was being stalked. He looked away immediately looking shy when i caught him.

"You sure they got the right… stuff, to fix you up?" Bev asks "are you flirting with him again? in front of everyone too?" I ask naively. "Im not" she looks back at me rolling her eyes playfully.

"Y-y-ou know what we'll t-t-take care of him, thanks again Beverly, [name]" bill says Glancing at the both of us. 

"Sure, maybe i'll see you around" bev smiled at him. I swear i saw him blush! "Im richie, call me rich for short sweetcakes" the guy with glasses approached me, i assume trying to flirt with me, smiling like an idiot. "You wont definitely be seeing me around anytime soon." I roll my eyes at him. I look at bev giving her a lets go look.

"Wait!" I hear bill scream, me and bev turn to him looking confused. "W-we were thinking of going to the q-q-q-quarry tomorrow i-if you guys wanna come." He asked glancing at us and his friends back and fourth.

"We dont" 

"Glad to know"

Me and bev say at the same time. 

"We'll see if we can come." "Which we wont!" I add winking at them as bev pulls me to leave.

"Y-y-you scared her away r-richie!" "No i didnt pretty sure it was you big bill!" "Shut up richie" "yeah shut up richie" i hear them arguing like idiots as we walk away, making me smile to myself.

"Jeez! Do you see the way he looks at you?! Its so Romantically stupid i tell you!" I exclaimed at bev as we walked "shushhh! Someone could hear you you know! And besides its nothing im sure he's just being friendly" "yeah whatever" i roll my eyes at her naiveness, "im going home, you should too, we might be the next missing kids you know" i say half joking.

 We said our goodbyes and went our different ways. I felt something staring at me again, i just ignored it and walked home faster im not about to get kidnapped motherfuckers.

_____________________________________

THATS IT HOLY SHIT GUYS!!!!

Im planning on making parts to this story, this chapter is basically just an introduction to it and basically just how the characters meet and all hope you guys liked it. I might add a link to a Spotify playlist with songs i listened to ehile i thought of the plot later;)

#bill denbrough x reader #it 2017 #anne with an e #little women #mike hanlon x reader #fanfic #bill denbrough #bill denbrough fanfic #folklore #evermore #illicit affairs #stephen king it

[mcalhenwrites]

Some personal stuff! (Good, mainly?)

We signed the lease, will be moving in about a month to another state. This means I'll be busy packing! But I'm still going to be writing in-between, especially since... I started packing this summer, slowly, and it's fortunate bc my health is atrocious. I have had an ovarian cyst issue for years now, and this one isn't bleeding out and hasn't for months. It just sits there and makes more organs and my back and hip ache really badly from the pressure. Hopefully I can take care of that when I get settled in. I might post my wishlist when I'm settled in, but I also think that since it's am*zon, like... hopefully people can find the same items on another site if they wish and send them via that. :D Always an option! But yeah, going to write. Will be posting stuff on AO3 sometimes? (I cannot guarantee this.) I could really use some word-of-mouth help when the time comes, since this is my income until my health is addressed, and even then... I'm not sure what's going to happen. I have to find out if I have Sjogren's, bc it runs in my family and I have the symptoms, and if I have that, it could be pretty impactful alongside fibro and a handful of other issues. I don't want to go on disability, I don't want to have my entire life flipped invasively upside down to most likely be rejected anyway. I'm hoping I can help my roommate out with more than just cooking and cleaning when my health allows, though. So selling my books and maybe having something like p*treon might help! In the meantime, just knowing what people might be able to say about my writing helps me know my strong points. If I do have any weak points, I do accept criticism! I want to get better. :) Seriously, it'll be good for me to get out of this house while it falls apart and breaks with no repairs, and mostly? I'm getting away from family. Finally. HUGE SHOUT OUT TO MY ROOMMATE! They are covering so many of my costs and giving me the chance to get my life in order. I gotta work hard and do my best. I know it won't be all sunshine and rainbows leaving my current environment for a new and better one, that there will be stresses and I will have episodes and forget I'm not home... I've heard that happens, esp with trauma and abuse? But I bet it's easier when you aren't IN the abusive environment to deal with that... Anyway, yeah! Mostly good. Minus the health shit. Going to do some writing and laundry and packing now. Then I'll relax with some video games or smth... or more writing... I'm not doing NaNo officially this year. Don't know if it can happen, so I'm just going to finish Seasons side stories, Rascal side stories, and work on Name the Frogs and The Dragons' Cosmos! Sending good luck to everyone, sorry I'll be pretty scarce but hopefully things settle down by Jan after the holidays :D (And I'm wishing you well, I know some people are having a hard time right now for various reasons, and I know world-wise, things are fucking rougher than ever. Take care and do what you can, though. Sending good vibes.)

[msookyspooky]

I can't get this outta my head!! I hope you like it!!

.

.

.

You pace around the room, you felt like you could throw up.

It's been a long time since you've heard from...them. Billy and Stu. The original ghost face murders from Woodsboro. Sure you've had got the odd call or letter but it was all bullshit. But after your cousin Jill's friend just got gutted in her own room, it was now confirmed that there was a copy cat in town again.

Randy looks at you concern. You wanted to have Dewey here too, but he was busy. Maybe it was for the best.

"Tell me what's going on." Ray stands up and limps over to you, taking your hand into his.

You look at him. You had to tell him. The truth was eating you alive and nothing would take away the guilt and trauma. Not partying and drugs, not moving all the way into a new state, not even writing a book.

The drugs and booze, along with moving across state lines, was only a temporary fix to a major solution. And writing a book, literally titled out of darkness only put you in the spot light more prominent.

Even therapy didn't work. After Ray and Dewey suggested going back to therapy after the shit Roman pulled, you went. The therapist, Dr. Perkins, suggested a journal. Spoiler alert, you never wrote it the journal once. You also found it too draining to have to stretch the truth. You couldn't tell him that Billy and Stu was alive and you've known for almost a decade. And he definitely wouldn't get what you were feeling after you survived three separate killing sprees and have a life time of trauma.

Ray sits you down with him and you roll your lips and wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans. You didn't want to tell Randy. But you had too. It was eating you alive and Randy was about the only person who could relate to you.

You didn't want to lose him.

You couldn't.

"You're going to hate me."

"I could never hate you." He says, softly.

You give a chuckle. If only he knew.

You take in a shaky breath, trying to find the words. "I-" you stop yourself and begin again. "You know, back in Woodsboro, with Billy and Stu and how where was a fire?"

He nods his head.

"Stu and Billy....they're...alive."

Randy's worried expression turned from worried to confused. "What? How do you even-?"

"When I was packing to move out for college, I had found a note...from Stu. Saying he would be back. At first I thought it was a shit head pulling a sick prank but at Windsor, I started...seeing them. Both of them. I thought I was going out of my fucking mind. But they ambushed me backstage while at rehearsals for that play I was in."

"And you're now just telling me this?!" Randy shoots up from the couch, his face now turned to anger.

He had every right to be.

"Trust me, I wanted to tell you! I did! But each time something would come up and the murders would start again! I honestly thought they would have got caught back in Hollywood. Especially that shit head Stu."

"So, the yelling I heard?"

"Was from Billy and Stu."

"Jesus fuck. How could you keep this from me?! Does Dewey know?"

You shake your head.

"You didn't tell Dewey either?! I mean, Jesus! They've killed Casey, her boyfriend, James, Tatum...Sid. They also attacked me and Dewey! Not to mention what they did to you! Why are you protecting them?!"

This time, you jump from the couch. "Trust me, I'm not! I was ready to go to the cops but roman found out and made a threat! I wish I did though."

Randy runs his hand through his hair. "Christ. I can't believe this."

"I know," you say. "I know."

"Was any of it real?"

You raise a eyebrow. "What do you-"

He cuts you off. "Us. Our friendship. Our relationship. The three months we dated? Was it all fake?"

You shake your head furiously. "Of course not, Ray-"

He cuts you off again. "Don't call me that."

"Randy. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. You are my best friend and I don't want to lose you."

Randy scuffs. "I can't be here right now." He doesn't say anything as he opens the front door and leaves, leaving you alone in the living room.

OH MY GOD 😭🥺💔 RANDY'S ANGER AND US BEGGING HIM TO JUST HEAR US OUT AAHHGH!!

I love this sm!!! It's so freaking true too! Like, yeah therapy would help with some things but only half bc we couldn't tell the therapist the whole truth and they'd know we're lying eventually and moving doesn't help and the book is just a bunch of half truths. Whatever Sid went through in canon; we have it 10x worse bc they lived.

And Randy? Omg could you imagine hearing it? That the men that traumatized you for life and killed the ones you cared about lived and your best friend lied about it? And was secretly helping them for a hot minute just to save you and her but Ray is not going to listen to that in the heat of the moment

I really really love this and if you or anyone wants to start making little drabbles in my asks based on my fanfic by all means please do!!!!!!😍😍😍😍😍

[witheringvoice]

Thoughts About Future (Slight vent probably)

I was planning on talking about some of the stories I'm writing honestly...Oh! And I got another poem idea but I won't have time to write it unless I do it before my friend comes over tomorrow. I'll be busy for a while (Wed-Sat). But I honestly got tired, then went down this hole of trying to figure out a good way to write music without like, an instrument or a melody. Won't be able to try until tomorrow, I mean I've done it once before, but I didn't try to sing it or anything, not that my voice is any good- Anyway, then I spiraled into this hole of getting worried about my future.

This worry is always around. I am always focused on my future. Now that I'm entering high school, I feel like I have to worry about College a whole lot more now, even though I know I don't and it's just me being irrationally worried.

You see I have multiple problems, one, I'd love to go down the route of being a psychologist, but I don't know if I'd be able to do it, or if I'd truly love it. Yeah, I love psychology and I want to help people...But I don't think my passion, ultimately lies in psychology, not entirely.

I love English, but I'd probably only want to get a BA in creative writing or something, no further, no less. Because, yeah, it just makes sense? I probably wouldn't have the motivation to entirely go beyond that for a backup plan to become a teacher if all else failed anyway.

I'd love to go to a creatively free-er school too! But the thing is...What about the other academics that I'd want to do? Like criminology and such...Would I still be able to do them if I went to that college/university?

There are also the lingering thoughts of making something photography or music related of course...Because I'd love to get some degree for either of those, teach me how to get better at that shit and all...Maybe even a film degree? I'm not sure honestly.

There's a lot I'd want to do with my life, all I know is that I want to help people, and wherever I go to college/university, I want to get as far away from my home state as I can, I need to travel, but I also want to go somewhere that I will...Enjoy? But I've only been to two other states, and the second state I was barely in, and the first I hate...And I've never been out of the country...Who knows if I'd enjoy it anywhere else? I do, honestly. I have a lot of traveling in me, someday I'll do so.

There are so many factors to consider and I keep telling people I won't start freaking out about it until junior year, BUT that's not true.

I've been freaking out since I realized I'm going to high school which means I'm soon to go to college/university which means-

The only certainty I have is I want to help people, at least indirectly by inspiring them. I want to at least, be able to do writing, art, music, and photography on the side...And maybe even a little content creation if I decided to try? That's too much though, isn't it? I have to pick a few things, don't I? No I don't! This is why little me always wanted to be a content creator before I realized how scary that would be. Because I could technically do everything I wanted. I could write scripts for shit and probably share my writing. I could do art content, I could even make scuffed cooking/baking content, music content, photography-related content, or at least share it, and I could just game! Like, all of that would be a fucking dream...But would I love what I'd do if I did it and was successful enough? Would that even manage to be sustainable? I have no idea...

I am the type of person who believes in myself so little that I need a backup plan for a decision as big as this. Of course, my dumbass has no backup plan for if I decide to pack up and quite literally move out of my home state, and possibly even my home country lol. My brain was like- "Imagine going to college/university outside of the country? Wouldn't that be cool? You'd be on your own, sure...But the opportunities might be fucking great." No plan, I always try to plan. Not everything, but most things, a lot of things, whatever I can when I am actually focused enough and concerned about it, ya know? Like I won't plan for my friend coming over tomorrow, I have no idea what we're gonna do all I know is we'll be hanging out! :]

But I'd have at least a basis for my routine when I'm older, and just whenever I have stuff going on like school. My school routine is always so much more of a hassle than it needs to be, but I do it anyway, and it'll get so much worse now that I'll be going to high school.

Everything is so complicated and I'm so worried, but I'm also relaxed. Like, everything will turn out right in the end once future me figures it out. But also like- I CAN'T WAIT THAT LONG WHAT IF- You know?

I'm starting to look at it like this, pursue my true dream, or attempt to pursue my dream and a backup plan that could cause me burnout if I do both. Or I could just pursue the backup plan...

I feel like people would tell me to pursue my dreams, but...I don't know.

It's a lot to do, and I don't think I'd be up for content creator shit honestly. Not to mention a lot of people nowadays are doing content creation kind of things, aren't they? Why would I too if everyone's doing it? I guess...I don't know.

I'm a very insecure person, constructive criticism would probably get to me. Not usually when it comes to my writing though, I love it when it comes to my writing because I know I have a long way to go still! I have no idea...But fame would probably be too much for me. Too much pressure, I am bad with pressure, and I am already under a lot of pressure, different kinds, but still pressure.

Not only that, but I don't know how to do half of the things I want to do well or have the resources to learn.

I'm lucky enough that I'll be able to learn guitar in high school, hopefully, I will be good at it...My sister has a guitar so I'd bet she'd at least let me borrow it every once in a while.

Photography, I'm pretty decent at it when it comes to landscapes mostly, could get better...But I don't have a camera, only a shitty phone and a polaroid camera that I can't afford film for. It sucks, but it's the truth.

Art, I struggle to get the motivation to actually practice, sometimes I can get pretty decent but it's pure luck mostly...And just the stuff I've accumulated enough over the years (and still remember from the basically two-year art block) that has still stuck with me. But, I don't know how to do uhh digital art and I don't have the resources to learn how to do so. Plus I get really frustrated when I get stuck on things and it's just, hard to deal with, makes me overwhelmed really quickly and I hate asking for help.

When it comes to writing, nothing will be able to stop me, except writer's block, but it has never lasted too long...A month or a few every once in a while, but I at least manage to get some form of brief writing while I'm waiting for it to let me be able to just spew words on paper for hours. So in the end maybe it's not fully very long of a writer's block, since occasionally I might get the ability to write something brief, but I have no idea.

And of course, there's the content creation thing. I don't know how to make videos or edit or do good quality shit or stream or anything. We have shitty internet, my mom has a shitty laptop and I have a semi-shitty Chromebook without a charger so I have to use a phone charger for it which takes forever to charge it and it will die while it's plugged in if you use it. I can't create content, because all I can really do is sketch pretty poor-quality sketches and share things I write about. I wouldn't want to show my face, not for a good long time at least, for multiple reasons, yada yada yada. There are so many complicated aspects to that, that I've just given up. on it for the time being. What can I do? Nothing really...

I don't know. What I want to do with my life is so complicated, and I just want to do what I love. I love doing so much, but I doubt I'd be able to do it all, or just it all...I'll probably have to have at least one job or something and then all of the rest would be side jobs or hobbies. No idea, I'm really tired I'll just try to sleep.

If I have another fucking nightmare though, I'm suing.

#random #vent post #thoughts

[silhouetteofacedar]

Pearl, Ch. 5: Marche Funèbre

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

It’s just another Tuesday.

Scully’s been telling herself that all morning as a kind of mantra in an attempt to calm her nerves. It’s not working.

It’s just another Tuesday, and she’s getting ready for an unremarkable workday. She showers, blowdries her hair, puts on the little pearl earrings her father gave her when she finished her undergrad.

In another timeline, in the life her parents wanted for her, she would be putting these earrings on beneath a lacy white veil. Her mother and sister would fuss over her dress, adjusting the train and making sure it hung well on her healthy frame, pressing a sprawling bouquet of flowers into her arms.

But that’s not her reality; in this timeline, she’s alone in her bedroom, putting on the creamy beige suit she’s worn to the office several times already. Her mother doesn’t know, and her sister is dead.

She feels oddly like she’s preparing for her own funeral, albeit a little premature. Will my mother have me cremated, or will they bury me in something I never wore? she wonders.

She thinks of Mulder then, a spouse in name only, and her stomach clenches.

Don’t go there, Dana. Tuesday.

She barely eats breakfast; cautiously nibbling at dry toast, wincing as it sticks in her throat. Her appetite has shrunk considerably lately, and her nervousness this morning isn’t helping. She gulps a glass of tepid water, eyeing the clock in the kitchen.

She doesn’t have to be at the office for another hour, but she decides to go in anyway.

She arrives a half hour early and is surprised to see that Mulder is already there. He rarely arrives before her unless he’s preparing a slideshow or simply never went home the night before. She would usually assume he slept in his desk chair, except this morning he’s freshly shaved and wearing a suit that’s still crisp from the cleaners, a blue striped tie neatly fastened at his neck.

As soon as he notices her enter the room, he covers his eyes and spins his chair away from her. “Bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony,” he says, attempting levity. The joke falls flat.

“Good morning to you, too,” Scully replies drily, setting her briefcase on her chair. “You’re early.”

He peeks at her over his shoulder and turns back to face her. “Yeah, I, uh, thought I should get a head start on some paperwork since we’re taking a long lunch today.”

Long lunch. Is that what they call eloping nowadays?

Scully raises a brow. “That’s surprisingly reasonable of you, Mulder; are you feeling okay?”

He huffs a laugh. “I could use some coffee,” he admits. “Didn’t get the best sleep last night.”

A clumsy response flits around in her mouth, about the quality of sleep one should expect from a leather sofa, but she swallows it. Instead she pulls out her day planner, leafing through the pages until she reaches March eighteenth, scanning her notes. “We have a meeting with Skinner at ten,” she reminds him, setting the book down on the desk. “I’ll get us some coffee from upstairs, and then we can dig into that inbox.” She gives him a tight little smile before leaving the office in search of caffeine.

-

Mulder’s had a rough morning.

He woke up just after five and thrashed about on his couch for half an hour before giving up on sleep altogether. He threw on some clothes and went for a nippy predawn run, relishing the lactic acid burn in his sleepy muscles; chasing one ache down with another.

Back at home he showered and scrubbed every inch of his body clean, even though Scully wouldn’t see it. He shaved carefully, slowly tracing his jaw with the razor. He didn’t want a single nick to mar his skin today.

Every thought, every movement, every little choice he made this morning, was for her.

It was almost funny, them both arriving to the office early and desperately pretending everything was normal. He hopes this new fog of awkwardness around them eventually dissipates; the whole point of this arrangement was that, in spite of legal status, their relationship wouldn’t change.

Scully retreats to find them coffee, and Mulder heaves a sigh, slumping over his desk. He’s going to wrinkle his shirt, but what does it matter? As far as anyone else knows, it’s just another Tuesday.

He glances down and sees Scully’s date book open on the desk, filled with notes and appointments in her neat, slanting script. He angles it toward himself and casually scans the day’s page, two appointments catching his eye.

Get married, 1:00

Chemo, 4:00

He grips the edge of the desk, inhaling sharply. That deep, forbidden feeling hits him like a wave of nausea, rolling sickly sweet through his stomach. He wants to throw the book away, hide under his desk, dissolve into panic on the worn gray carpet of their office. She’s breaking her remaining days into neat little pieces, organizing them tightly in the grids of her calendar, squeezing every last drop of time out of them. And giving that time to him.

This is the worst way to want a woman, he decides. Selfishly lapping up every spilled second, thirsting for more than she can give. Probably more than she wants to give.

Scully walks back into the office, two styrofoam cups in hand. Mulder feels a quick burst of shame at having been caught reading her appointment book, as though it was a secret diary and not a simple calendar.

“It’s at one, in case you forgot,” Scully says, passing him a cup. Coffee, black, one sugar like always. She sits in the chair opposite him, hands cradling a cup of what appears to be tea, judging from the little paper tag fluttering from a string hanging out of it. He wonders how the ring in the small box in his pocket would look on her slender hands.

“Mulder,” she prompts, casting her eyes up at him as she blows on the surface of her drink to cool it.

“Sorry, was I staring?” he asks.

“Mm,” she nods, taking a careful sip. “I’m fine, if that’s what-”

“No, no,” he says quickly. “You. Um. You look very nice today, actually. That’s all.”

Her cheeks remain pale. “Oh. Well, thank you,” she says calmly. “You look very nice today too.”

That was the idea, Mulder thinks desperately, painfully. I wore this tie to match your eyes.

The minute hand on the clock lurches silently forward.

#pearl #my fic #txf fic #msr #cancer arc #marriage of convenience #secret marriage #mmm i love angst with my morning bagel #also i'm moving out of state so i'm busy as FUCK packing all my shit #i'm doing my darndest for yall okay xx

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xi.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 396

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hi everyone !!! here we are with the weekly update hehe, and it's a brief chapter but it does direct it up to the next one, and that'll be far more ... happening ... if you catch my drift 🤣

anyways, apologies for the silence again - uni has been absolutely kicking my butt and I'm lowkey on the verge of burnout but we'll pull through !!!

hope you enjoy the chapter 🥺❤️

Jungkook sits across from Jennie when it happens.

“What the—?”

“We need to talk.” Jimin glares, hand already grabbing him by the collar when he tugs Jungkook out of his seat. He doesn’t bother to send Jennie a look of acknowledgment, though he doubts she’s at any fault. He was only there for one thing and the subject of his disdain only looks perplexed and confused.

“Can we do this later?” Jungkook huffs, gesturing between his body and Jennie’s. She’s blinking at the interaction, then picks up her purse to shoot the two boys a half-hearted smile.

“I think I know what you needed to say,” She smiles. Then she looks over to Jimin who’s still glaring down at the younger boy, “Good luck.”

Her wish only makes Jungkook gulp, but he can more or less guess what Jimin is dragging him by collar about.

When he manages to ruffle his clothes back into position and sees the angry slope of Jimin’s back, he takes a deep breath. Jimin was by no means a terrifying person on average, in fact, he was quite debatably one of the most pleasant people anyone could know.

But Jimin was loyal and he stuck by the people he cared about with all his heart. He’d fight and he’d defend them till the end of time, and you were no different. Especially since the two of you grew up with each other, Jimin seeing you grow from an inquisitive toddler to the intelligent woman you were today—Jimin would die to protect you.

So when Jimin shuffles through his backpack to hand Jungkook a pack of ice, he can only stare at the cold object in the palm of his hands.

“What is this—?”

“You’ll need it.” Jimin deadpans, then he’s rolling up his sleeves.

“I thought we were talking?” Jungkook asks with a raised brow.

“We are,” Jimin retorts, eyes unblinking when he stares the younger boy down with a heavy-lidded gaze, “After I beat your ass for fucking _____ over.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, ready to defend but Jimin’s resolute glare only makes him cower in submission. He knew he fucked up, and he knew that there was no way he could get a word in even to meekly apologise because when Jimin had his mind set on something, he wouldn’t stop until that goal was achieved.

And it seems that Jimin’s goal was to give Jungkook a physical reminder on why he shouldn’t fuck with the things or people he loved.

“Let me take off my jacket,” Jungkook mutters, defeated.

After multiple shoves against the wall and a generous swing to his cheek, Jungkook is begrudgingly holding the ice-pack against his bruising face.

Jimin doesn’t look apologetic when the two of them sit side-by-side on the sidewalk, or even when Jungkook’s lip busted open. He knew Jungkook could take it, he was twice his size. Even more so, Jungkook knew Jimin had every reason to act the way he did.

“Thanks for the ice pack, by the way,” Jungkook says sarcastically, wincing when he moves his mouth a little too much.

Jimin doesn’t gratify him with a response, instead levels a stare so menacing that it could send anyone running. But Jungkook’s done a bit too much of that recently; so he stays, braces himself for the words that were to leave Jimin’s lips.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook sighs, scrunching his face before tossing the ice pack aside. He supposed that it was nearly useless, nearly melting into a puddle that drips down his arm uncomfortably.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook confesses softly.

“You’ve got a set of nerves on you if you thought it was ever okay to say the shit you did to her, let alone a human being.” Jimin frowns, pulling Jungkook but his collar so that he’d look at him.

Jimin’s face is permanently etched into a scowl, but Jungkook already knows he’s fucked up. The constant reminder of you turning to different directions whenever you’d spot him was enough to hurt more than a punch to the face.

“I know.” Jungkook whispers, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Do you, Jungkook?” Jimin spits, glaring down at the boy who remains helpless under his grasp, “I told you to not fuck with her and you deliberately went against what I said.” His reminder is vicious and quiet, a hiss in the wind that blows.

Jungkook hears it loud and clear, “I know,” He exasperates, still as frustrated with himself as he was with the entire situation, “I know.” He repeats, more defeatedly.

Jimin shoves Jungkook back by releasing his grip around the collar that he nearly stumbles. But Jungkook catches himself just barely when Jimin rises to his feet, looking down at his younger friend like he was a piece of gum stuck on the sole of his shoes.

“Why?” Jimin asks after a beat of silence.

Jungkook purses his lips. He knows why, but he still can’t bring himself to say it. Not when he knows he’s fucked up and Jimin is rightfully furious. He knows Taehyung knows at this point too, there was nothing that Jimin knew that Taehyung didn’t. It was just that Jimin was the more confrontational one where Taehyung was passively aggressive with his anger.

“I …” Jungkook trails off weakly, standing up to reach Jimin’s height but despite his friend being taller, his presence was already intimidating enough.

“You doing that shit with her was one thing, because if it was consensual I’d go on my merry way,” Jimin sneers, poking a firm finger into Jungkook’s chest, “But you had to go and poke at her insecurities to hurt her. On purpose. That’s where you fucked up. Royally.”

Jungkook blinks, intently listening and observing the way Jimin’s chest rises and falls with every breath he heaves.

“It’s taking everything in me not to smear your reputation on campus for the shit you did,” Jimin’s eyes flutters shut and his voice is threatening. Jungkook’s eyes widen, but he still remains quiet, “But against my better conscience, you’re my friend. And I’m so fucking disappointed in you.” Jimin croaks like he’s conflicted.

And for the first time ever since the conversation started, Jungkook feels bad for Jimin; specifically. He knew that it was difficult to defend your friend while berating another, and he hated himself for putting him into a difficult position. It was an internal dispute that Jimin and Taehyung would have to face between holding Jungkook accountable and leaving him to dust.

There was history, between the four of you. But there was unseen history between Jimin and Jungkook that you and Taehyung hadn’t seen, and Jungkook’s always regarded Jimin as an older brother, honorific aside.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook whispers.

Jimin looks up, glaring at the apology like he’s sworn at him.

“I can’t believe you.” He sneers, barring his teeth intimidatingly while Jungkook swallows.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook looks down at his feet, and for a moment he feels like a child being scolded but he knew that children would never say anything as vicious as he did, unless they were a product of their environments.

Jungkook still can’t justify his words, or why he said them. But a deep part of his recognises that it was his insecurities peeking through and him weaponising a weapon powerful enough to shoot himself dead.

“This isn't my apology to accept,” Jimin says sternly, “But even if it was—I could never forget what you said to her, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods, eyes still cast downwards.

“What does this …” he trails off, finally looking up to see Jimin carding a hand through his hair in exasperation and a pinched expression marring his face, “Where does this leave us?’

Jimin knows Jungkook’s asking about the state of their friendship together.

But the anger is blinding and overwhelming, so instead; he tosses his backpack over his shoulder before turning on his heel, head looking back ever so slightly to level Jungkook with a final gaze intense enough to speak for itself.

“Here,” Jimin declares, gesturing to the abandoned ice pack, the bruised cheek and knuckles, “Until you decide to get your shit together, I need time away from you. If not, I’m going to do something that ____ would hate and I don’t want to hurt her any more than you already have.”

The words are sharp, targeted and venomous. But Jungkook recognises he deserves it. He also doesn’t bother fighting back when Jimin finally leaves, leaving Jungkook to bask in his own, clouded thoughts.

“Why are your knuckles bruised?” Is the first thing you ask Jimin when you see him storming towards you and Taehyung in the library.

Taehyung is aware while you blissfully aren’t.

“None of your business,” Jimin shoots back, but then he’s tugging you out of your seat to hug you.

Your eyes widen, “Jimin?”

When he pulls away, his eyes soften.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Taehyung nods and your head is spinning in confusion when you stare between the two boys with furrowed brows.

“Tell you what?”

“Jungkook.” Taehyung answers, eyes boring a hole into your skull.

At the mention of his name, you freeze in Jimin’s grasp as you stare at the both of them with wide eyes.

“How did you know—?”

Jimin frowns, releasing you so that you’re all able to take a seat in a specific corner of the library. You dryly note to yourself that you realise that every one of your conflicting moments of confrontation occurred in this place. Maybe it was about time for a change of scenery.

“Yena,” Taehyung tells you, and you scowl—nearly cussing her out in your mind but you know that your anger wasn’t warranted.

Especially when Jimin reaches out to grab your hand when he notices you looking down at your lap.

“How do you think it felt for us when we had to find out from someone else that you’ve been going through a hard time?” He asks softly, looking at you so gently that your lip nearly trembles.

For the longest time, Jimin and Taehyung were like older brothers that doted on you as much as they could. They took care of you and made sure that you knew your worth ever since the three of you were children. And for that, you could never be more thankful for their presence.

So you understand their hurt, and it makes you feel guiltier when you see Taehyung quietly patting your head although his eyes carry a sadness that only came from a friend withholding information from you.

“I …” You croak.

“You didn’t need to tell us why,” Taehyung reassures gently, “Just wanted to be here for you. For whatever reason, it may be.”

You stare down at your lap even harder and blink away the tears that only came with guilt.

“I’m sorry.” You say so meekly that it comes out as a squeak.

“Please don’t apologise. We just want to be here for you,” Jimin says sadly, squeezing your hand tighter even if you weren’t going to look at him. He doesn’t push you to do so.

“I didn’t want to make things complicated.” You confess softly, fiddling with the thumb on your free hand.

Taehyung scowls, “_____, you know that whatever it is, Jimin and I will try our best to remain as objective as possible but Jungkook said things to you that we're absolutely not okay and as both of your friends, we have a responsibility to hold him accountable.”

You purse your lips, nearly pouting. It’s as if Jimin reads your mind, where a million thoughts run through it, he pulls you closer so that he can properly hug you. Even if the position is a little weird and Taehyung has to bend his arm at a weird angle to be able to hug you too, you feel comforted.

“Don’t be mad at him.” You whisper softly into the material of Taehyung’s shirt.

Jimin snorts, “I release my anger in a healthy manner.”

Your eyes glance down at his knuckle suspiciously but he tugs it away when he notices your wandering eyes.

Taehyung sighs, caressing your hair softly. “We have every right to be angry with him, _____. What he did and said was unacceptable.” He informs you firmly.

You pull away slightly from their hold to furrow your eyebrows, “I know but—”

“You do know,” Jimin says softly, “And we know that you don’t like other people fighting your battles for you so we’ll step out of it. But that doesn’t mean we can’t personally be disappointed in what Jungkook did. He’s our friend too and if he did that to anyone else, we’d still be mad. We’re just extra mad because it’s you and we’re your best friends.”

You dip your head, letting out a sigh of acknowledgement.

“Just … let me talk to him.” You say, and Taehyung raises a brow at the shift in your tone, “This is something I need to do for myself. I appreciate you guys, I really do. But I don’t want things to be weird because of what we did.”

You can tell Jimin is about to argue with you, but Taehyung shoots him a look that shuts him up immediately.

“If that’s what you want.” Taehyung smiles gently at you.

Jimin clenches his jaw, clearly the more displeased one between the two. But he swallows it by clenching his fist and patting your head, shooting you a concerned stare mask in a slight glare.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

You nod, “Very.”

Jimin nibbles on his lips as if deep in thought before pulling away completely, leaning into his chair.

“If you insist,” He sighs, “But Jungkook did get what he deserved.”

You shrug, “I mean I don’t think avoiding him was the worst thing to do, but I guess you’re right.”

Jimin blinks.

Then Taehyung and he are sharing a look familiar enough for you to know only comes out when they did something wrong or were caught causing trouble.

You raise a brow, “Am I missing something?”

Jimin shoots you a reassuring smile and you miss the shift of Taehyung’s eyes to the fist that wraps around your shoulder.

“Nothing at all.”

You [21:09]: hi jungkook

You [21:24]: can we talk? my door's open if you're free.

#bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook #jungkook series

[azhdakha]

The Haircut. (One shot) OC x Eddie Brock x Venom

Note: this is not a complete fic, it's only a short episode, introducing some of my original characters I plan on writing about.

Important: I'm not a native English speaker so apparently my grammar sucks, so I'd be grateful if someone could beta-read it.

Warnings: slight dom/sub, ambiguous situation.

- Can you do me a favor? - Amira turned to Eddie, asking shyly.

- Yes? - He replied friendly, breathing out a little cloud of steam.

The day was sunny and freezing. One of the common winter days with clear blue sky, when the brightest sunlight's warmth melts in the low temperatures. They just met to go for a walk around a few other nice places of this huge city. Eddie has been here a few times, but unlike on his past trips when all the few days or hours he had were packed with the reporters’ business, now together with his Other One they had all the time for themselves. And a good guide to take them around. Now the guide was looking him into the eyes with a nervous smile with her face red from the freezing air.

- Could you... Could you shave my undercut? I wanted to meet the New Year freshly trimmed and not looking like a porcupine but everyone is busy and I can't do it myself.

- Uh... - Eddie definitely expected something much more serious as a 'favor', - I have a trimmer, but I don't think I'm the best hairdresser.

"I am ready to do it right instead!" - Venom on the contrary got excited with a new activity.

- It's nothing difficult, just shave up to the hairline. - explained the girl.

"I can make sure you do it exactly up to the hairline!" - Venom tried talking his human into it, and their confidence made Eddie think that this might actually work.

- Alright, fine, uh... it's too cold to be outside anyway. – He shivered under the new winter jacket that his new friends got him for his new cold and snowy hideaway. It was unknown how long the might stay here with Venom and where they will have to go later, so some supplements where necessary to make their current life ‘normal’ at least in some way if it was even possible for fugitives.

. . .

Amira sat on a stool near the window by the table. A small pale-green hotel room the symbiotic couple stayed in for the past few days since the arrival from Mexico. Alexander, the other member of the little supernatural team, or how everyone referred to him in a Russian way despite his clear foreign origin - Sanya, has offered them to stay at his apartment where it would have been much more convenient and safe. But Brock was too humble to accept, or perhaps too scared and confused about his current state, afraid that Venom would destroy someone else's place like they chewed Eddie's inside out.

Eddie turned to search for the trimmer but Venom has already taken care of it.

- Thankyou, - said Brock taking the little machine that was held right in front of him by the black goey hand-like tentacle.

- Do you have something to cover my clothes with? - asked the sorcerer and Eddie frowned, scratching his head and searching his mind for information about wether he had a fresh towel and where did he leave it, looking around and fidgeting.

Once the towel was found Brock approached his friend a little nervously and turned on the trimmer.

Amira glanced on him:

- Start, please.

"Go on, Eddie, I am on the hold if you fuck up!" - encouraged the symbiote. Eddie responded ironically:

- Yeah, Venom, thanks for the support.

- Is he also taking part? - Amira chuckled.

- Can he not?

The man gently put his hand on the girl's head holding the longer locks to the side and began to move the trimmer from from the temple to the back of her head. Unfortunately or fortunately the towel was too small and all the trimmed hair began to fall on the girl's t-shirt.

- Oh shit, your shirt, - mumbled Eddie.

Karimova looked down on the fabric on her shoulder.

- Maybe... Maybe you can take your shirt off while I'm doing it?

The suggestion slipped off Brock's mouth before he realized that asking someone to take their clothes off wasn't the most considerable one. Venom felt the little unrest starting to trouble their man's senses. But the sorcerer seemed to be alright with the offer:

- Will that be okay?

- Uh... Yeah, sure, if you're comfortable.

Eddie turned away holding the towel, while Amira pulled off the t-shirt and threw it on the nearby standing bed, leaving herself only in a simple white bra when Eddie quickly covered her naked shoulders with the towel. His hands touched her bare skin. The slightest contact of his cold, but soft and firm hands made goosebumps run across the girl's body. She suddenly felt her nipples swell as she finally realized that she's actually shirtless in front of Him. Him, that she craved form. Brock tried his best to hold his nervous system from getting alarmed by situation concentrating on his job. "That's only a shirt, just do what you were asked to do, you spermotoxicosed moron" - he thought to himself. "That's a normal reaction to the touch of someone you have feelings for" - Venom's deep voice echoed from the man's skull. Eddie decided not to reply, he stood behind her back, trying not to touch her bare skin anymore, returning to his work.

She could still feel his warmth with her spine. Amira sat motionless as his huge palm was caressing her hair, holding it away and fixing time to time, as the other hand moved back and forth shaving off the hair. She could feel it's heat with the tip of her ear and it made her tremble slightly.

- Are you okay? - Eddie asked, noticing the little shaking movement her shoulders made.

- Yes, it's just ticklish.

And the sorcerer felt the heat rush to her cheeks and ears. Venom could sense it. The same metamorphosis happening in two separate bodies at once, a rise in temperature, an increase in heartbeat, blood rushing all over their little sweet warm bodies, and the ticklish longing, desire to provide a connection for these two boiling pieces of flesh and bones.

Eddie now moved to the back of Amira's head, slightly moving his hand on her neck, making he bend it forwards. For a second he stared at the outline of the girl's spine sharpening.

"If a dragon let's you touch it's neck and spine open and unprotected under the plates and spikes, it recognizes you as it's master."

It was the moment the she fully felt it, his presence right above her bare neck and back, touching it, holding it, felt his soft warm palms yet rougher skin on herself. The sense of being vulnerable and exposed to those hands, sense of him holding the control over her body, some soft and gentle yet owning control, as if Eddie could get to the soft and weak undersides of the sorcerer's entity and thus take it over in his hands.

Amira didn't expect it to happen like this, to get so deep into her, touch the most sensitive and yearning strings of her subconsciousness.

"She wants to be yours, Eddie" - the sudden ring of the alien's voice awakened Brock from the oblivion of senses that absorbed him during the moment of this unexpected and ambiguous intimacy.

- What?

Amira seemed to shiver again.

- Huh?

Brock shaked his head nervously, trying to brush off the awkwardness of what he got into and act normally. He suddenly noticed that the job was done. Venom's interruption was right on time. Thankfully Eddie could use it to drag himself out:

- Oh, it's finished.

- Really? - Karimova touched the velvet of freshly shaved undercut, - woah, this is nice, thankyou... thanks a lot!

As well as her American friend, the sorcerer tried to bring herself back to normal, putting out the burning senses like little flames that start on the dry summer grass. It is over now, come on, calm yourself down and stop being so shameless. The girl rushed to the bathroom, to wash off the 'leftovers' from her skin - an irritating procedure you always have to do. The towel now went over her wet hair. Someone would call it a planned trick. Someone who didn't know the distracted nature of the sorcerer. Someone who did would find it a blessing. She had to wait until her hair dries now as going outside on the freezing subzero with even slightly wet hair was a straight way to get a dangerous cold. The absence of towel left her topless except the bra. What a temptation. But all this temptation could give Amira was a sharp feeling of embarrassment, that chewed on the insides.

"You missed the moment, Eddie. You blow up everything again!" - Venom was clearly unsatisfied with situation.

"You promised me to help me do what she asked, not seduce her, for fuck's sake!" - Eddie replied with a loud angry whisper hoping that his friend won't hear them while being in the bathroom.

"I'm trying to help you do what you both want."

"What? What do you mean - you both want?" - Brock was startled by the symbiote words at first, but this shouldn't have been a surprise to him, they knew about each other's feelings, and Amira was the one with the most initiative at this point.

"Right, okay, what do you want me to do now?" - Eddie was almost angry ar himself. Part of him said that he should hold himself from getting closer to this woman, to any woman, to anyone at all for now. The Other part eagered for this exact person that suddenly happened to be in his life, eagered magically, as he hasn't craved for anyone for a few years already since he met Anne. Is that the pain of the broken heart that once again felt the soothing warmth? Is that a tricky realization of being loved and cared for?

And before Venom could voice a reply an idea struck him. Or to be more accurate - them both. Later they will argue about who got it first. But now...

- Hey, have a cup of tea, eat something while you're here, I have put the kettle on, - Eddie was awkward as usual. Awkward and unbelievably sweet in his awkwardness with the smile of some huge, soft toy designed to look maybe not do cool and even a little silly, but the most cute way possible.

Amira sat on her place beside the desk that they now used as a dinner table instead of a workplace.

- Oh, shit... - and this was the moment the girl realized that she actually didn't wear any shirt, and started taking off the towel before reaching her top, - I'm so sorry.

"Now, say it!"

At this moment Eddie had a quick thought that having a symbiote with these senses is actually quite useful, and decided to thank his Other one later. Well, don't forget about this, Mr. Brock.

- Hey, Amira, I... you have a little patch of hair left... here, on the back, I'll fix it now.

Karimova checked it with her hand, but finding nothing, decided to rely on her friend's words. A hesitation and nervousness surprisingly made Eddie say it as something least ambiguous.

He was close again. "A little grasp of pleasure once more" she thought feeling his touch again. This time Eddie bent over her. The warm breath tickled the skin on her neck, on her shoulder. Unexpectedly to herself, Amira turned and glanced sideways. She couldn't see the man's eyes, but she could feel his face was so close to her shoulder and neck. Brock suddenly looked up on her as if asking for a permission. She blushed. Blushed ashamed of her own desire, her thoughts, but this time, dived into it.

A most gentle kiss of the softest, puffy and hot lips on her shoulder. Amira gasped for air. Another one on her neck. And another one. She closed her eyes. Warm hands were holding her firmly but carefully, touching the most sensitive skin, stroking behind her ears, on her throat, and the down on her body.

- Eddie... - the sorcerer took his hand into her and pulled it closer.

- Don't be afraid, baby.

Venom felt the boiling of chemicals inside of the two sweet little bodies of flesh and decided that it's the time to turn off the kettle, the polished surface of which reflected the golden sunset.

#oc x eddie brock x venom #eddie brock #venom #amira karimova #khan bike papermarking

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Chapter 5. We have stucky, we have stevesambucky friendship, we have a new place to live and strange being a good guy because tony definitely ranted at him. Also, we're beginning the creepy part of the plot. I have decided that sam will be one of the main platonic characters in this story because I love sam.

fun fact: I used to be a creepypasta writer! Going back to my roots here, hehe.

Things had stated changing, for better or worse, much sooner than I had been prepared for - but was anyone, ever, really ready for the next big step? Certainly not me - the view that greeted me after I'd finished my shift at Jeremy's was peculiar and unexpected, so I froze, eyebrows high at the two super-soldiers parked, once again, illegally, right in front of the entrance door.

"Hi, doll," Bucky was reclined against his boyfriend comfortably, his bike standing a pace behind Steve's, who nodded companionably, a sheepish grin on his face.

"G'day," I nodded, eyeing them warily. "I think I know where this is going..."

"No, no, nothing like that," both men frantically waved their hands around, Steve coming up close to approach me slowly. "You're not in trouble. I came out here to say thanks," giving a sappy look to the grouch that was his boyfriend, Steve reached into his pocket and handed me a slip of paper. "Just, uh..."

"Those are our phone numbers. Don't hesitate to give either one of us a call if someone bothers you," Bucky took over the stammering blonde, shaking his head at the soft blush that blossomed on the good captain's face. The brunette wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders with a shy smile of his own. "Or if you, I don't know, need someone to carry your groceries or something," he snorted. "The punk wouldn't leave it alone until we came out personally to thank you, the sap."

The laughter bubbled up from my chest as I grabbed and pocketed the paper, throughly amused and at the endearing gesture. "Sure, thanks."

"And, uh," Bucky's eyes briefly looked to the side. "We'd appreciate if you keep the status of our relationship to yourself for now. We're not, like, officially out yet."

I froze in place, mouth falling open. Surely they were aware that anybody with a functional pair of eyes could see that they were much more than 'good, lifelong friends'. "No problem, guys. Lemme know if anyone gives you shit about it though, this place," I gestured to the café behind me, "is strictly paparazzi and homophobe-free."

Steve's grin grew even more genuine. "Yeah, we heard all about it from Tony and Stephen. Said 'twas the only place they go these days."

I wasn't aware of that. "It's the paps, isn't it?" I remembered Tony's remarks.

Bucky shook his head, the metals of his prosthetic arm whirring as it recalibrated. "Not only. The public hasn't had the best reaction to a man goin' out with a man," the brunette looked away to the side, where Steve's face had fallen considerably. "And Tony's an eccentric rich man. We're jus' two soldiers. The US Army won't be too happy if we... Came out," both men were crestfallen yet determined.

I had a hunch nothing would be able to separate the two - seeing as not even seventy-odd years and brainwashing and ice couldn't keep the captain and his sarge apart, I doubted that a few government weasels could successfully do the job. Even so, it was unpleasant, to say the least, to see them deny themselves something that technically was perfectly fine in the 21st century.

I chewed on my lip, gathering my wits. "I've clocked out, I can tell you this as a friend- as a person. You don't owe the army jack shit. They do not own you, you are your own person that they experimented their German knockoff steroids on. Respectfully, fuck that shit." I firmly stated my opinion, figuring that there should have been at least someone that told Steve that he is more than his star-spangled uniform and giant metal frisbee.

The blonde scrunched his eyebrows together, fingers gripping onto his belt until the knuckles went white, the hard line of his jaw set firm.

Bucky laugh took me by surprise. "Agreed, doll. I'm too old to be hiding in back alleys and shit," he clapped on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Although I'm happy enough with just not going to prison for bein' in love with this idiot."

"Jerk," Steve's responding pout was downright adorable now that I knew the circumstances surrounding their relationship.

Which wasn't exactly surprising. As a barista, I knew my fair share about my regulars' love lives, their jobs, their kids. The tea was almost always piping hot. "Bye, boys," I smiled at them warmly, throwing a glance at the time, adjusting the strap of my bag for comfort. "Stay outta trouble!"

Steve scrambled for his bike, having noticed my pointed gesture. "Sorry, didn't mean to hold you back. There, I have a spare helmet," he gestured behind him. "I'll give you a ride."

"There's no way in Hell I'm getting on that death trap!" I shouted cheerfully, walking briskly towards my second job, hiding a laugh in the warmth of my scarf as two very offended motorcycle-loving gay fossils sped past me, making truly incredible amounts of noise. Good for them.

Odette was content to let me rummage around the bodega without showing herself more than necessary, taking her appointments and doing- well, witch stuff, I guess, only coming out to poke at the various jars for ingredients.

"Star, I have a proposition for you," right before closing time, Odette's voice filled out the store with its low drawl. "A good friend of mine owns an apartment building, not far from here actually, and one tenant recently moved out. It's a safe space for those who are different," she enunciated the last word, fixing it with a pointed stare. "She's not overly fond of total strangers coming to live there. The rent is reduced and the apartment itself is slightly bigger and more fashionable than yours..."

"Where's the catch?" I found myself interrupting her. I wouldn't lie: the reduced rent and increased size of the apartment did interest me, as well as the probability of a kinder, more involved landlord. My current one was - not the best, but such was life in the NYC.

"There are a few rules to follow, rules that might seem strange at first but they'll make sense in time. And your neighbors might be also a little... Unusual," Odette carefully studied my face for any signs of displeasure.

I sighed.

And then I sighed some more as I was signing my new lease in a few days' time, having spoken with Porter, my new landlord, and his boyfriend who had claws and fangs- after so much time spent around Odette's, I didn't even blink. The couple liked me enough to extend a secure but flexible offer and some furniture to choose from the attic where they kept the spares.

I quite liked the large, vintage couch I placed next to the wide bow windows in the living room. The floors were hardboard and well-kept, the walls a nice, homely shade of green and Porter didn't mind any new holes in them that might arise from hanging up decorations. I scheduled a thrift crawl at the next possible opportunity, happy with the "good employee" bonus Odette had given me after I sealed the deal.

My stuff was boxed up, a sleepless night and a call to a begrudging Jeremy to have a couple of days off to move; I was, thankfully, not late on my schedule and all that I had left was to rent a car to move the boxes of my things and the few pieces of furniture I had decided to keep - my haul in Porter's attic had been incredibly rewarding and my new apartment had all the basics to make it look like a warm, inviting bohemian home in a while.

My phone rang suddenly, startling interruption to the romcom I was watching as I ate my last lunch in my old apartment. "Hello?" I answered the number without looking.

"Hi, doll," Bucky's voice rang out cheerful. "A little witch told me you were moving. I thought you might need a hand?"

I blanked momentarily, the thought of enlisting two very busy super-soldiers to haul ten boxes and two endtables worth of stuff not having crossed my mind at all. "Is this the moment when you stop by my house just to unattach and put your prosthetic arm somewhere and leave?" I asked, hearing distinctive snickering - several more people were with him.

The cheer in his voice blossomed into a full belly laugh. "You're funny," he teased me. "And thanks for the idea. But no, I have a room full of men that have nothing better to do but get on my nerves. Might as well make 'em useful," his accented drawl thickened the more we spoke. Muted cheers rang out in the background.

"Uh, sure," who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I rattled off my address and warned them I didn't have a car, after which Bucky assured me it will be taken care of. The last remaining knick-knacks packed away, I went down to take out the trash, and returned to four people standing in front of my apartment building, all except one unrecognisable in their civilian clothes. "Hello," I waved at them, side-eyeing the tallest, grumpiest man of the bunch.

Stephen Strange was there, looking around curiously, hands in the pockets of his plain grey hoodie. I had already forgotten how normal he looked without his robes, and, frankly speaking, I preferred him like that. His title and the attire that came with it were quite intimidating.

"Hey there," a dark-skinned man who I recognised to be the Falcon, raised his hand. I had not met him yet. "I'm Sam, Sam Wilson. You must be the Star we're helping?" His quick once-over and the tilt to his lips; the ease with which he flirted had me brandishing smirks of my own. I led them all upstairs, Stephen's silence being just so loud. Sam, however, had no such reservations. "So, you're a witch, right?" Wow, subtlety was his middle name.

"Yes, I'll show you my broomstick," I deadpanned, wiggling my eyebrows at him with a grim look.

"Woah woah," Sam raised his hands as the three men behind us snickered loudly. "What happened to 'how are you? let's have dinner sometime'?"

I did my best imitation of an evil cackle as I let them through my front door. The four newcomers looked around my nearly empty apartment with muted interest before zeroing in on the pile of things in the corner: a few pieces of furniture and nearly taped boxes. Should be a walk in the park for four men.

A hand on my arm pulled me from the stupor of observing Sam, Bucky and Steve act like a well-oiled trio, bantering and teasing each other as they discussed how to best move the things.

"Look," Stephen Strange had all the appearance of a chastised puppy. "I wanted to apologize for my behaviour that day. I was out of line," the low notes in his voice made the appearance of the apology being somewhat reluctant. Tony probably put him to it after our little burger run.

Irregardless, I wasn't looking to make any enemies. "Me too, I was under stress - not that I'm using it as an excuse," to give where it's due, I nodded at the sorcerer, immediately awestruck by the easy, boyish smile that stretched on his lips.

"You are strong," he added. "If you would like to learn our ways, we would welcome you." There was a spark in his eyes, something belonging to man that respected and collected knowledge. My own respect for him grew immensely just from that one thing.

"I'll think about it," I offered amicably, however, I still leaned heavily towards a negative answer to that particular proposition. I liked my current way of life.

Strange's grin made a momentary second appearance, until Sam's voice rang loudly: "Fire in the hole, Wizard-man," causing the former to groan loudly and look at me.

"Think about your new place for a second," he spoke, briefly touching out fingertips. As soon as that was over, a golden circle with my new living room on the other side of it appeared quietly, Strange's hands immediately going back into his pockets after that. I sighed and pointed the men into it, stepping in a second after. The sorcerer wasn't far behind. "You could learn that, too, you know," he added wryly, having seen my look of mild envy directed at him.

"I think I'll be good with having the 'pissed off the sorcerer Supreme and lived' pass for now," I retorted with an eyeroll, turning around to stare him down.

He had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, at least. "I'm not like my predecessor," his words were chosen carefully. "And, to be honest, I have no clue as to why your... Boss is so hostile towards me- us," Strange looked around the room before unceremoniously beelining for the couch and plopping down on it.

"Not to be a gossip," I started, slightly intrigued. "But Odette and some lady she called ancient had mad beef," I slipped into casual language easily, trying to recall the details of Odette's, quite often jumbled, stories. "Sounded almost like territorial disputes," I shrugged. "And the apprentices Odette took on before me found themselves in all kinds of compromising situations," I chewed on my lip. "Like the Arctic."

Strange rubbed his face with a noisy groan, large hands doing nothing to mask the resignation and slight embarrassment.

I focused on the thin, red scars on his hands - they had to have been something serious, the way slight tremors betrayed the deteriorating state of the nerves in his fingers. I frowned, quickly averting my gaze before he could catch me ogling him. The fact thag Stephen kept his hands in his pockets or covered by gloves at all times didn't go over my head.

He muttered something to himself, something that sounded like he was often forced to clean up his predecessor's mess. "I see," was the only thing he'd offered me, looking slightly pitiful and apologetic.

"Well," I started, noting the last of my stuff was about to be in its rightful place, "as long as you don't toss me into the ocean, I think we can coexist peacefully."

"Tony would kill me if I'd tried," Stephen groused.

"Probably," I agreed. "Considering the fact he hit on me, for you, it would make one hell of a lover's quarrel," my hand pointed towards the kitchen as Steve and Sam carried in the boxes aptly labeled "kitchen", looking around a place to put them down.

"Tony did what now?" Stephen's tone dropped, a wry smirk decorating his lips as he eyed me through his lashes.

"Don't ask me," I raised my palms, feeling my eyes widen. "He's chaos personified and Satan only knows what he's got on his mind."

That squeezed a laugh out of the tall man, followed by a fond, sappy smile as he looked out of my large, panoramic window, probably thinking of Tony himself. There was no doubt, Stephen Strange was utterly and throughly head over heels in love with Tony Stark. Good for them, good for them.

"A-and that's it," Bucky walked in, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel I'd provided them earlier. "I took some liberties and assembled the furniture, Steve is stacking the dishes as we speak," the brunette noisily plopped down next to me, arm carelessly thrown behind me on the back of the couch.

"Oh, um," I stammered, unused to such random gestures of kindness. "Thanks a lot, you saved me a day's worth of time and a backache," I smiled, scooting over to make some room for Sam.

"No problem, not like we had anything better to do than argue which part of the Lord of the Rings is the best," Wilson rolled his eyes, elbowing Bucky none-too-gently.

Bucky elbowed back, thus starting a horsing war between the two, causing me to scoot closer to Stephen as I attempted to avoid any flailing limbs; the sorcerer and I shared an identical, perplexed sigh as to how two grown men could easily bait each other into such juvenile behaviour.

Whatever. It was kind of endearing.

Steve emerged from the kitchen dusty but smiling, having heard the commotion, and quickly herded his guys into a semblance of decent behaviour before all of three of them left, leaving me and Stephen to go back to my old apartment and give the keys to it to the guard. That was done, too, and a portal from an alley behind my old building straight into my living room had me and Strange awkwardly hovering, saying out goodbyes and waving to each other as the golden circle rapidly shrunk in size and disappeared, golden sparks scattering across my living room carpet for a short second before they fizzled out, too.

I used the brief moment of respite to find the small piece of paper containing the rules Porter had insisted I read and take seriously; figuring it might be a good idea to give them a read before beginning to unpack, I popped open a bottle of soda, holding the itemized list written in neat cursive to my face.

The further I read, the further my eyebrows rose:

"1. Keep your door locked at all times.

2. If a person knocks on your door claiming to be the mail man, do not open the door under any circumstances. You are free to ignore the knocking - it only lasts a minute or so. After the person has left, you may open the door and check for any packages.

3. If Samantha from 3B visits you and asks you to babysit, you may do so at your personal discretion. Her twins are a handful and their daily habits are not for the ones with a weak stomach, however, they mean nothin ill and will not harm you in any way.

4. Do not use the elevator between the hours of 1 and 4 AM.

5. There are no apartments under number "7". If someone claiming to be from those apartments knocks on your door and requests entry, come up with a polite excuse to decline and send me a text message. I will take care of it.

6. There is no garden on the premises of this building. If a man approaches you, claiming to be a gardener, don't interact with him and simply walk away. He will leave you alone.

7. You may meet a girl in a polka-dot dress playing in the hallways or in the stairwell. This is Lucy. Always be polite to Lucy - you won't like what will happen if you're rude to her. She does not talk but she knows limited ASL and may request to visit you. Allow her in ONLY if you have fresh meat in your fridge (beef or mutton, preferably bloody). You might want to avoid seeing her eat, however, it might be very beneficial to make friends with Lucy. She knows a lot of things.

8. If, when taking the stairs, you encounter inconsistent numeration of the floors, such as floor 2 followed by floor 5 and etc, simply walk a flight back. It will sort itself out. The building is old and sometimes it gets confused.

Important notice: these rules apply to your guests as well. Please make sure to introduce and educate them on these matters. We will help as much as we can should a situation arise but ultimately, there are fates far worse than an untimely, however swift, death.

- Porter and Lance."

A slow, creeping dread began to gnaw at my nape, curling on like a cold snake deep in chest. As if laughing at me, the warm, welcoming embrace of the green walls and the toothy, wide smiles my landlords had given me encouraged my recently found sense of adventure, all of it mixing into a cacophony of exhilaration and unease, equally steadily driving my running brain insane.

I sighed again, immediately going to the box containing my altar and the rest of the protective items. So much for peace.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

#practical alchemy #bun writes #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #ironstrange x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x y/n #Stephen Strange x you #tony stark x you

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Beauty Sleep

Marvel and Supernatural bingo

Square:Sleeping Beauty

Castiel x Archangel!Reader

Warning?: Reader seems bad, Twist on Sleeping Beauty/Snow White, Poisoning, Wicked Father,ect.

A/n: [This text is a memory]

Tag: @thisismysecrethappyplace

The loud clap of a book dropping on the table startled the brothers for their own research. "What the hell,Cas." The eldest said more then likely woken up for his half sleep mind set. "I found it." He said as he pointed to the thick book.

"Found the weapon that can restore balance." He explained further causing them to grow intrigued. It was the weapon they were looking for that could keep Angels in heaven,demons in hell,and other supernatural in purgatory. The one thing that can fix everything."Perfect where do we get it?" Sam asked as he pulled the book three times thicker then the largest dictionary towards him. "Where do we find her you mean." Castiel said making the Winchester's look at him confused.

Dean cleared his throat and dragged his hand down his face. "Her? The weapon is a person?!" He asked. "Not exactly. She was the first Archangel made by both God and Amare. Legend has it she's more powerful then both of them she could create life with ease and equally wipe it without so much as a single thought. Because of this she had to be put to rest." The angel explained further.

"If she's so powerful how is she "put to rest" can't she wake herself up?" Dean asked as he looked over his brother's shoulder at the book. "Apparently her prison has hex symbols that takes away and returns her grace in a constant loop to keep her weak yet alive." The younger brother explained pointing out the drawing of the three symbols on the page. "So a real life sleeping beauty? Sweet! I always fit the role of prince charming ya know?" Dean said cockily posing victoriously.

The angel rolled his eyes. "There's a catch,Dean. It says once we break those symbols all of heaven and hell will feel it. The creations that she made will hunt her down...all things supernatural will come for her,but once she's back in full power she'll be able to cloak herself." Cas said as he paced slightly. If she was a powerful as legend had it she could fix it all for them. "Her creations? She made the monsters we hunt?! I thought that was Eve." Dean exclaimed as he ran a hand through his hair. "That's a common misconception the apple she ate gave he knowledge that only three beings knew. That special apple was made from her grace." That's when the angel paused as his words raked over him. "Her garden was never just a place it was her prison."

"The garden of Eden. What's this Angel's name?" Sam asked as he flipped through the book and tried to find a name,but all he saw was angel of light and darkness,the perfect balance. "God was nice enough to name it after her. Eden the first Archangel,but she's gone by many names before." He said.

Dean looked at the book with Sam. "Where do we find the magical garden? No book supernatural or not ever gave a location." The eldest asked and it was a good question. "The garden never stays in the same place for to long it moves often. One day it could be in a forest the next in a mountain." Cas said with a sigh it was impossible to find the prison with out a bit of her grace to track the source.

"Her grace is strong even a little can help us. Even if a millennia has gone by and it's became one with the elements it can help." Cas explained. "Cain" The name fell from Dean's lips as he numbly rubbed where the mark once was. "Cain is the son of Adam and Eve. Eve had that grace in her system she must have pasted it to him!" With that the boys packed up and were heading to Cains house to use him as a tracking device. The day long drive dragged on and with those time Sam continued to ask questions.

Most of the questions the angel had no answer to until one made him freeze up. "How did it happen in the first place? Was she casted out of heaven like Lucifer?" The younger Winchester asked. "I think Chuck poisoned her. She was like Lucifer she questioned a lot of things it was a new angelic trait, curiosity, except she loved all creatures and things Chuck made so when he makes something new she was the first to see and that was the last time any angel has seen her." The vivid memory came to mind.

The giggle of the young fledglings filled the air. A girl with H/c hair dragged a younger version of himself around. "My little raven come look! Father has created such beautiful things." She said as she showed him the flowers in her hand each different from the other. "What are they called?" He asked tilting his head. "Father said I can name them,but I can't think of anything...come help me plant them on earth there we can name them!" She said using her three pairs of large F/c wings to bring them to earth before humans were even thought about.

The soil on the ground was dark and it was vastly different from the sand surrounding it. With gentle hands she planted all of the flowers and together the angels named them. "Hmmm..." The girl hummed. "What is it Y/n?" He asked her. "We need something to keep them growing in numbers, raven." She said using a stick to draw on the dirt. "What should it look like?" Y/n asked him as she was going to go to her father to create it.

"Um...give it wings and make it the color of those sunflower over there." Castiel suggested. The drowning at took a couple tries,but as the kept adding and removing things they got what they wanted. Without realizing that the archangel just made multiple winged creatures on a whim and she wasn't even trying. God saw it all a d it scared him,but he couldn't do anything about it when his sister along with his other archangels would be there to stop him. He had to wait.

Three mil past and the two children grew bigger and she grew stronger. The small patch has turned into a garden of various plants that were only found in different climates around the world. Together they went there everyday even more often after the imprisonment of Amara and Lucifer along with the disappearance of Gabriel. Michael was busy trying to keep order after the two archangels left so it was his chance. Chuck called his daughter to see another one of his inventions,but that time was so much different from the others. Afterwards she didn't comeback she was never seen in heaven again and on that day a tree taller then any other in that garden with apples of pure gold grew.

The garden of Eden disappeared after Eve ate the forbidden fruit and it wasn't ever seen again by man,angel,nor demon knew of it location. Cas lost his friend and he knew it was god that did it even if he was suppose to be a loyal soldier he couldn't when he knew that the father of creation so willingly got rid of his most prized pupil what would he do to all the underlings.

Hours have past they stand in Cains living room. "Cain we don't need much from you just some of your blood that's all." Cas said as Dean explained what for. It took some convincing,but he agreed and bleed into a vile. "You guys better stop this apocalypse before shit hits the fan." He said as he shut them back out of his house. Sam handed the vile to Cas. "Now what do we do?" He asked the angel. Without saying a word he pulled something from his pocket a old looking compass. "Rowan taught me a location spell all I need to do is..." Pouring the small amount of blood on the glass of the compass and spoke in Latin causing the red substance to disappear. "...follow the arrow." Cas finished.

The arrow spinner rapidly as it settled on the strongest pull of the grace. "Looks like we're heading west. We have a estimated week before it changes course so off we go." Cas said as they all went back to the car. Keeping his eyes trained on it a small smile formed on his lips. "I'm coming N/n." He whispered to himself. Almost five thousand miles away a the unmoving body had a shocking pull of her lip at the mention of her name if only that could have woken her up for her comatose state.

It's been three days on the road and the impala had to come to a stop a thick treeline stopped them. The dirt road turned into a hiking trail and they had no choice,but to go on foot. Together they hiked up the trail blindly following the arrow through the woods. "Cas what are we suppose to be looked for?" Sam asked as he stepped over a fallen tree branch. "The closer we get the more exotic the plants and animals will be. Also be careful some of the wild life is experimental." The angel warned causing the brothers to freeze. "What do you me by experimental? Are we going to see a truducken?!" Dean asked jokingly as he looked around.

A loud snarling noise caused him to pull out his gun and look around. "More like human eating plants and venomous insects." This made Sam tense and stick closer to a still walking Castiel and Dean to cautiously does the same looking at each and every plant close by. "What is this fucking Jumanji?!?! Everything can kill us." Dean said keeping his gun up and ready to fire. "Oh, that was the name of the movie. Yeah those types of movies were based off of what explores experienced when getting to close to the garden." The blue eyed angel said with a shrug.

In a clearing they all look with widened eyes at the land before them. Flowers of all types with various animals and inserts. They watched in wander at everything creatures they've never seen or never insisted out of the garden. Everything was in bloom even though it was mid fall. There was a clear gravel path cutting off between the forest and wonderland in front of them.They wandered around since it became more difficult to find where the pull was unclear. "She won't be in plain sight she'll be hidden well. Look for something that doesn't quite match the rest. Trees of all kinds surrounded the area,but it was Sam who noticed the sand that mirrored a sky full of stars. He slowly followed it till it grew thick into a sanded path.

The youngest Winchester had his eyes trained down so when he looked up the apple tree before his eyes took his breath away. It looked straight out of a child's most imaginative fantasy. A white trunk with red leaves and the most noticeable feature the solid gold apples on it's branches. Sam didn't hear the voices of his brother or friend as he stepped closer directly under one of the low hanging fruits. Reaching up he picked the ripe fruit his brown eyes glazed over by temptation and curiosity. "SAM DON'T EAT THAT THAT!!!" Cas yelled using his grace to stop him mid bite. The angel looked in horror at the item in his hand a dark purple almost black apple sat in his friend's hands.

To anyone mortal it looked beautiful with it golden exterior,but Cas could see the ugly,fermented,poisoned inside. Glancing up the tree was rotting with barely any leaves and the few left were the color of blood. "It's poisoned their all poisoned." His words cleared the Winchester's vision of the tree and the surrounding woods all the plants were dead all around it. "It's beautiful on the outside,but deadly on the inside. And we're seeing it for what it truly is."

"It's clear as day that's she's here. Just how do we get to her?" Dean asked looking around. Castiel snapped towards Sam holding his hand out. "Do you still have the book?!" Sam nodded quickly taking the strap off his shoulder to dig it out of the bag. He handed it over the the angels that viciously flipped through the pages. "He made her a monster so a beast she became. She was blinded by curiosity and temptation she chose wrongly that day. Pick the fruit that doesn't call to you for the right one will choose you." He read word for word trying to see through the riddle. A beast? She was never a monster,but she was depicted as one. A angel that tainted the flock.

The Archangel landed gracefully in front of her father. She bowed on one knee as a warrior would clashed in her white armor and sword by her side. "Stand my child." She stood up looking at him. "Yes,father?" Her voice was gentle,but that didn't make the God of creation hesitate in his actions. "I've made something new for you to try and plant in the garden." Chuck said handing her the item. The skin was red and the surface was smooth unlike the peach that had a light fuzz. "What is this?!" Her e/c eyes burned bright her wings fluttering in excitement. "A red apple my dear." He said softly a smile on his lips stepping closer "Taste it."

Bringing it to her mouth she took a bite out of it and started to chew. It started of sweet,but became bitter within seconds and no matter how long she chewed it never broke down in size for long. "Father...something not right." She said that single bite still in her mouth. "Trial and error,darling, try to swallow it." Her h/c hair bobbed as she nodded. With a gulp she swallowed it down,but to her shock it stopped. Using her free hand she beaten at her chest to unblock her air way. Looking up at her creator she saw a look that can only be described as pure evil as a liquid poured out of her mouth.

Touching her chin a dark violet substance came dripped to the ground. Her gaze shifted to the apple within her hand and the inside no longer looked right. It was as if it gone bad from the inside,but the outside stayed fresh hiding the disgusting center. In fear she stepped back and with that she fell and continued to fall watching her home fade away. Y/n broke through the soil of the earth in a prison of her own design that she cared for and nurtured. Her arm dropped from her side the apple rolling away. The deceitful visibly harmless fruit planted it seed and grew becoming the only way to enter her personal mausoleum.

Castiel looked at the tree. All of the fruit looked the same nothing was different about a single one of them. Together the trio walked around the looming tree. The Winchester's saw something beautiful and they couldn't help,but want to pick one of the apples to taste. "What do we do,Cas. We don't have much time before this place disappear and possibly taking is with it." Dean said flinging his hands in the air. "The riddle said to wait then that's what we must do.

They grouped together and sat at the base of the tree waiting for who knows what to happen. "This is stupid! Let's just get the shovels from baby and start di–" His words were cut short as a apple full down from above them. "Well that was covenant." Sam said as Cas picked it up. To the brothers it looked odd a bronze color compared to the rest just less appealing. While to Castiel it looked horrible making the clearly deadly fruits more appetizing. "Our key in." He said. Using his hands to break it open to reveal the mouth watering interior that a honey like liquid dripped from,they picked correctly. The ground began to shake and they all stepped away from the base of the tree as the dirt around it caved in making a spiral staircase down and down they went.

It was pitch black down there so Sam and Dean pulled out flash lights to look around. They all went around the surprisingly large pocket in the ground. Dean checked for the symbols when he tripped over roots and landed on something hard and and moving. Snapping up he shined the light on the women laying as if sleeping in front of him. She was in white leather armor with a sliver sword in her hands on her chest. "Didn't find any hex symbols,but here's sleeping beauty." He said looking her over she rested on a raised stone that worked as her bed. "Never mind found them." The markings from the book in a pyramid shape was on one side of the bedrock glowing a soft F/c. Sam walked over along with Cas. The knifes both brothers held was used to break the engraved symbols,but nothing happened.

"No no no that's not right. Y/n is suppose to be freed!" The angel in distress said as he flicked through the book nothing else was said to be imprisoning her, why didn't it work? The Winchester's examined her the youngest looking at the elegant armor while the oldest focused more of the feminine features. "Sammy you read that book while in the car. Didn't you say something about her being the first female?" He asked his eyes not leaving her. "Yeah a model for Eve and later Amara's less celestial form. Why?" Sam asked touching the blade of the sword. "Yeah if that’s try why does she have a Adam's apple?"Cas wasn't fully paying attention until that sentence. His blue eyes imminently went to her throat were a noticeable lump was. "That wasn't there before." He mumbled loud enough for them to hear. Placing his ear just a centimetre away from her lips a shallow breath was let out and a wheezed inhale drew it back in.

The angel put his overlapping hands on her chest. He didn't know everything about humanity,but he knew enough to understand what he was about to do. He pushed with all his strength and he heard a sharp breath push out it just wasn't enough to dislodge whatever was there. Cas continued his actions and just when he was giving up hope she coughed up the chunk of apple and a weird substance. F/c glowing eyes snapped open as she lurched forward her grace burning bright casting a shadow behind her. It was a sight to see three sets of wings,what can only be described as a halo,along with twisted horns. After the grace calmed down her eyes returned to their normal color and they instantly when to Cas a wide smile spreading on her face. "My raven." She said. Y/n knew why she was awoken after all this time. To fight in a war she wanted no part of,but with the thought of putting everything in balance and striking down her father where he stood made her ready to fight. After all she felt like she's had enough Beauty Sleep.

/////////

A/n: This one took a minute,but I was torn between sleeping beauty and snow white since both of them fall asleep so a mix of both.

Also post #69....Noice

#supernatural #thisismysecrethappyplacetropebingo #Marvel & Supernatural Bingo #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x platonic!reader #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #dear chuck #Chuck's a dick #sleeping beauty #snow white #with a twist #twisted fairy tales #poison apple #archangel!reader #goddess!reader

[sweetandsourfics]

Baby Widow Two

Natasha Romanoff x Pregnant Reader | SFW | 2 out of 3 | NEXT  》

Summary: A quiet day at home for Natasha and her girlfriend has turned into the most exciting day of their lives.

Warnings: Labour, explicit language.

Author's note: Part two! I have another part planned, but I am more than happy to extended on Mama Natasha as we all deserve more Mama Natasha. I would love to hear your thoughts on the story! Please enjoy!

Baby Widow One

»———————————————————————«

Natasha's trained eyes never leave you as you waddle around the living area. Your sweatpants ride low on your hips like every mother, in her last trimester, you feel heavy, sluggish and big.

Your due date is only two days away your stomach has dropped. Your hips, back and pelvis hurting more with each day and Braxton hicks are becoming a daily thing.

You hand Natasha her bowl of ice cream. The Avenger takes the bowl only to put it to the side, her hands landing on your hips. She draws circles with her thumbs and kissing your stomach.

She rest her forehead against you. Natasha could feel the gentle movements of the baby, and you comb your fingers through her hair.

"I love you and your mama more than anything in this whole world." She whispers, pressing another kiss to your stomach.

"And we love you." You slowly lower yourself into your spot. Looking at Natasha with a goofy grin on your face. You pull her into a passionate, loving kiss.

Natasha sits with the exercises ball under her legs. Getting her use out of it. Each day the two of you were trying to do something that you wouldn't be able to do as often as you would like once baby Romanoff gets here. Today was movie day.

"I'm going to miss having my own personal table." You say causing Natasha to shift her attention. Your bowel of ice cream sits on your baby bump.

She laughs, kissing your temple. "You'll have your personal table back one day."

You raise an eyebrow at her, trying your hardest not let the smile break out. "You mean..?"

"Baby one isn't even here yet, so don't go thinking of baby number two." She teases. Your smile broke free a giggle following shortly.

Your giggles were cut short when a sharp pain shot through your body. Letting out a noise of pain one hand holding on to your ice cream and the other on your stomach.

Natasha watches wide-eyed. Her heart in her throat, body tense and ready to pounce. "You okay?"

Your hair bounces as you nod. "Can you help me up?"

She doesn't need to be told twice. Natasha holds you as you try to keep your breathing steady.

"I need to move around..." you breathe slowly, "think it's just a Braxton thingy."

"Okay, do you want the ball?" She asks, her heart racing.

"Yeah. Please." You sigh softly swaying side to side.

Natasha slowly lets go of you and rolls the red excise ball over. She ushers warmly "come here."

Once you were sat and Natasha sits on the coffee table hands on top of you're thighs. One of your hands supports your stomach and the other lay on top of her hand.

Natasha goes through her mental checklist. The hospital bag is packed and ready by the front door. She remembers the birth plan and everything thing she's learnt in the past nine months.

Her thoughts must have reached her features because you give her hand a gentle squeeze. "Hey, we are more than prepared for Baby Romanoff. We'll be okay, you'll be okay."  You say with a reassuring smile.

How the hell did she get so lucky?

Natasha lets out a small nervous laugh. "You're right."

"Aren't I always?"

"Don't get cocky." she teases kissing you.  

You moved from couch, floor, ball and standing until you had eventually fallen asleep on the couch. Natasha had paused the movie and shifted to the dining table where she could get some work done. She'll rejoin you once you're awake.

You woke up an hour later with a dull pain ringing through your body. Not thinking much of it, you rub your eyes and sit up. Natasha still sits at the table busy with her work.

Make your way over to her the pain doesn't go it just lingers.  She kisses you hello before asking. "How are you feeling?"

"The usual." You smile. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"I'm okay. I'll just finish this then we can continue the movie." She explains, turning her attention back to her laptop screen.  

You hum out a yes and shuffle into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. As you wait for the kettle to boil, you feel the pain growing, tightening.

You groan out hands massaging your stomach. Natasha's sharp hearing picks up on your discomfort.

"Hey, you okay?" she calls her voice full of concern.

You let out a shaky breath "Y-yeah just a little pain." The pain died down to a period cramp level pain.

You manage to make your tea and move out of the kitchen, but you were met with the intense stare from Natasha.

"What?" you question.

"You sure you're okay?" She fires back.

You cross over to her, her emotion written clearly on her face. "I'm sure. I'll let you know if I wasn't." You rub her shoulder affectionately "Shall we finish the move?"

You're grip on Natasha's shoulder tights as pain ignites every nerve in your body. "Shit..." you hiss out between clenched teeth.

"You're going to labour," Natasha states as she jumps to her feet. She checks the time 5:38 pm.

`"Movement and excises will help the baby move down." She says aloud for both of you. You nod your head as Natasha slowly walks you over to the ball.

Being who she is and what she does for a living. Natasha works well under pressure, and you were so lucky to have her.

6:20 pm

You've done several short sets of different positions on the ball.  Natasha holds your hands as you rotate your hips. Your grip tightens on her hands you grunt in pain as a contraction hits.

"Breathe," Natasha says softly and checks her watch.

"Fuck!" You curse.

"Ten minutes apart and lasting for twenty seconds." She kisses you softly. "Do you want to have a warm shower?"

"Please." You say, your voice wobbles as a sob threatens to bubble up.

Natasha leads you to the bathroom, sitting you down she starts up the shower. She helps you out of your clothing.

Natasha doesn't need to be asked. She strips down and joins you.

She kisses the top of your head. You hug her tightly, the warm water numbing out some of the pain. "We going to have our baby girl in a few hours." You mumble against her skin.

A large smile settles on her face, "we certainly are." Natasha hooks a finger under your chin, lifting your head so she could kiss you. "You are absolutely gorgeous." And just like that, the spy had you blushing like a lovesick high schooler.

You giggle shyly, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. Natasha smirks at you, hands on your hips as she gently sways both of your bodies.

Natasha feels your body tense against hers. Pushing your full body weight onto her, you cry out in pain.

Natasha whispers words of encouragement, mentally counting the seconds that go by.

7:48 pm

Natasha had gotten you out of the shower. You're dressed in grey sweatpants and a black tank top. She's made sure you have eaten and that your water bottle is never less than half full.

Natasha also has been on and off the phone with your midwife, letting her know how your progressing.

Natasha sits next to you on the floor, rubbing you back as you cry. You're on your knees with your arms and chest resting on the ball.

"In and out, that's it." She coos softly eyes glued to her watch.

"It hurts!" You sniff, turning your head to look at her. "I knew it would hurt but fuck it hurts..."

Natasha wipes the tears from your cheek, kissing your nose then your lips. Your contractions are getting longer it wouldn't be too much longer till you have to go to the hospital.

8:15 pm

The hospital bag, car keys and shoes sit on the coffee table ready to go. You squeeze the plastic water bottle in your hand and try to breathe through the pain.

Your whole body feels as it's on fire. Pain and hot flushes have been drowning you for hours now. Natasha holds you tightly as you shake in her arms. You have found comfort in semi-sitting and squatting positions.

Your contractions are now 4 minutes apart and lasting for 55 seconds. Active labour, it's time for the hospital.

4:02 am

After 9 hours of labour Widow Ellie Romanoff was brought in the world at 2:38 am. Natasha held herself together through labour and delivery. It wasn't until the nurses had left your little family be that Natasha let the first tear roll down her cheek.

She sat in the stiff hospital chair her daughter cradled in her arms. The scene made you cry. It's rare to see Natasha cry. Happy or sad tears seeing her cry always made you cry.

"Hey, hey. You've cried enough today." Natasha teases with a light sniff.

"Oh, shush." With the back of your hand you wipe away the stray tears.

Natasha leans over, kissing your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel x you #marvel reader insert #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #reader insert #xreader #x reader #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow x y/n

[coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe]

January 3rd or One's Beginning is another's end (Daughters of Darkness)

This passage contains potentially: Explicit Language, Depictions of Violence (including mentions of blood), Smoking, Slang and maybe some bad translations.

Summary: An introduction to the world of the Daughters of Darkness, through the eyes of series protagonist Kirby 'Gluttony' Lucifarian. The first day and night, from her perspective, of them working for the WWF.

Kirby's POV:

Tuesday. The first day of being 'on the job', Tuesday the third of January 1984. Damien got us into the WWF. … Damien, managed to get us into the quickest rising wrestling promotion, popularity wise. To be honest with you, Damien's given us free reign to get to know people, for now. I don't know anyone here. I've heard of people here, such as the most famous giant in the world, and … Hogan.

I'm not here because I earned it, I'm here because I'm a necessity for the team. That's how I view it. That's how I've always viewed it. Vickie needed someone to make fun of and, well, I'm the easiest choice. Then, in the midst of a darker path of thought becoming clearer in my mind...

WHAM

Both me and the figure I waltzed into thudded to the floor, "Oh, my good lord. I'm so sorry are you o..."

I looked at the figure before me, taking in how much trouble I had created in the last three seconds.

Taller than myself.

Head covered by a wild afro.

Around double my weight.

André.

André the giant.

Flat on his arse … because of me.

Oh … Shit.

"Are you alright, Mademoiselle…"

I could tell he was searching for a name but didn't know it. Too frightened to even speak I glanced away. I noticed his shadow move.

"Mademoiselle?"

His footsteps came closer, he sounded … worried, as if he didn't want me to get fired for this.

"Mademoiselle?"

He picked me up, not off the ground, but so I could stand. I whispered out a small 'thank you', or rather 'merci'. His hands still on my shoulders, he smiled sweetly and nodded, as if to beckon forth more words from me.

"I'm Kirby, or rather, Gluttony. I'm new around here."

André grinned, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer before stopping upon seeing how much taller than every other woman in the company I am.

"Are you, uh …" he searched for the words

"A giant, yes, technically a giantess."

I feel I should summarise the next hour or so, but, André took me on a tour of the backstage area and we talked, about everything. Within an hour I had gained a new friend, a genuine friend, someone who didn't care about my height or looks. I know the only reason he didn't care is because he knows what it's like to be stared at just because you aren't 'normal'.

By the time André's tour had ended it was time for Vickie and Damien's interview with Mean Gene, which I was to attend. I said a goodbye to André and rushed off to perform my usual role.

The Enforcer, or rather, the intimidation device, that's my role in this group, to scare people, that's all I do. Before joining the group I was part of another group back in England, The Celtic Warriors, I was part of a championship winning tag team. Now what am I, a damned intimidation device, a human scare tactic.

The Interview:

Gene's first question for us, actually, Damien and Vickie (whilst I stood behind them and looked 'menacing'), was 'How are you doing so far?'

Damien began, "You know something, Gene, my girls have yet to have a match, but we are doing absolutely fine. In shape, ready to rock, ready to roll. Gene, every one of the Daughters of Darkness are doing fine."

Vickie followed suit, "Just look at us," She gestured to me and then herself, "Don't we look marvellous, Gene."

Gene smirked, "You could say that again, miss?"

"Pride, though you can call me Vickie."

Damien glared at the smaller man, almost as if he was daring him to try and flirt with her.

Gene readjusted and focused in on the prospect of new women in the WWF and the possibility of more matches. "Uh hum, yes, now how soon do you girls think you'll be seeing a match on the cards?"

"Soon, Gene, Soon." Vickie stated, ending the interview by walking off.

The first night after 'work' was surprisingly normal, Damien and Vickie went off in their rental car, taking Holly and Eli with them whilst the rest of us stood around backstage for a while.

Billie brought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her purse, lighting one up and walking over to me, sitting down on a box placed near by and blowing the smoke away from me she spoke up.

"What's up with you, Tall-ass."

"Thinking."

"Dangerous pastime hermana."

"I know, hermana"

"You collect phrases, don' cha?"

"They may come in handy, Billie, one day."

"You going to the gym tomorrow?"

"Of course. Gotta train. Gotta … gotta settle in somehow, right?"

"Right, mi hermana, I'll see you around, alright?"

"See ya, Billie."

She waved back at me as she walked away.

Billie was the only person who knew that I 'collected' those little phrases that seem like nothing until spoken. Language isn't my strongest aspect, more often than not I'm silent and I try to avoid other peo-

"Hey! watch where you're walking man!" I yelped out, shocked back into the present moment. Instantly regret flooded my mind as I realised who had barged past me to get out of the building.

Big John Studd.

One of the most disrespectful 'giants' in the world of wrestling. famous for being the one man who pisses André off more than anyone else, including the Iron Sheik.

He sneered back a quick, "Who gives a fuck." and continued to stroll away.

That … that fuckwit. Who does he think he is. I felt a gentle hand place itself on my shoulder. I turned, expecting to see Eli or P.G, I was face to, well, chin with André.

"Forget about him," He started, with that same sweet, friendly smile from earlier, "Damien said you may need a ride back to the hotel. I don't recommend you walk back now, too dark out for a young lady such as yourself."

The way his R sounds turned into faint W's and he missed off or faintly implied H's was calming. Almost in the same way that hearing a parents voice would calm a child after a nightmare.

"Oh, uh, it's okay André, I was going to get a taxi."

He nodded in response, somehow both downhearted and curious, as if he knew that I was either lying to him or if I did get a taxi, the immense pain my back would be in the following day. André sauntered off, leaving me, once again by myself.

I don't mind being alone, in fact most of my life I have been alone, always the outcast, it was only when I got into wrestling that it started to change.

I picked up my bag and started walking, buttoning up my shirt up to the top of my chest, my near-neon orange shirt covering down to my mid-forearm, hiding any noticeable tattoos, except the one on my wrist, when I turned eighteen, I got a small, runic 'R' on my right wrist, in remembrance of my uncle Rory, the tallest of my dad's brothers.

It took about an hour to get to the hotel, an hour of walking through a city I'm not familiar with, when I eventually got to the hotel I went straight to my room and locked myself in. All alone, I could practice or train if I wanted, so I did.

I took off my black shirt, shoes and belt and I stood in the middle of the hotel room and practiced punching, then I switched to doing my warmups and working out, push-ups, planks, squats. By the time I finished it must've been around midnight, maybe one or two am. I got some sleep, waking up at six, getting changed into some fresh workout gear and headed straight to the gym.

You meet all sorts of characters at a gym, or so I've been told. Back in England I would go to my parents house and use our home-made gym to work out. Not an option that I have anymore, however, the moment I got into the gym, I felt like I was in a whole new world, as if I was just getting into the business all over again. I scanned for any faces that I knew, Mr Fuji, Tonga Kid, Sgt Slaughter, Don Muraco, Lou Albano, Iron Sheik, Freddie Blassie, Tito Santana, Jimmy Snuka, Bob Backlund, Gene and Pat, David Schultz, and … who is that?

I walked over to David and this mystery guy, nodding at David and heading to the heavy bag next to them.

"Mornin' Gluttony, André's been talkin' about ya."

"Oh really, Mr Schultz?" I tried to keep my breath noises to a minimum as I continued to hit the bag.

The mystery guy snickered, quickly shutting up after Schultz glared at him.

"C'mon girl, you know you can call me David. An' yeah," He stopped punching and instead leaned on the heavy bag in front of him, forcing the other guy to hold it still "Giant's been talking about him havin' a new friend and how much he likes ya."

"He's a good man, it's good to have friends in new places. Who's your pal, David?"

He smiled and slung his arm around the shorter man, "This here, this is Roddy Piper. He's like you."

I tilted my head slightly to try and make him explain further.

"You are Scottish, right?"

"I'm a quarter Scottish. Anyway, Piper, Do you speak Gaelic?"

"Uh, no, I can play the bagpipes however." his eyes lit up slightly, a sort of mad fire behind a haze of brown or maybe dark blue.

"Well, I'll see you around I guess, I've gotta warm up for later though."

I tried to block the two men out and focus on my own workout but Piper seemed to stick around a lot longer than David. He was still there when my workout ended.

"What do you want?"

"You're a quarter Scottish, you're also a giant. How do you fight? Show me." He seemed to get more energetic the more he talked.

"Right now?"

He nodded, "Right now, c'mon."

He led me to a ring that some other wrestlers were using to brush up their skills.

From the looks of the ring, it was actually used for boxing.

Roddy entered the ring the same way as most six-foot-two guys did, through the top and middle ropes. I tested the ropes, and seeing that they had just enough slack, used them to jump over the top rope.

"I've never seen a girl do that before."

"Mistake number one, I'm a woman, not a girl. Mistake number two, you expected a giant to be normal."

He scoffed out a laugh and got ready to lock up.

We locked up and Piper hit me with a knee to the stomach.

I got him back with an Irish whip into the corner, accidentally winding him by being too stiff.

"You're gonna pay for that, lass." He snarled out, already getting pissed off.

I sized him up, trying to see how high I would have to get myself in order to dropkick him to the mat.

Piper tried to hit me with a running high knee strike but I countered with a dropkick, taking us both down to the mat and slamming my face into the mat.

The mat was a lot harder than I was used to, it felt like I had rammed my head straight into a cinderblock, I started breathing heavier than before.

I rolled over and put my arms up, making an 'X' with my forearms. Piper stopped and walked over.

"You alright?"

I shook my head.

He knelt down and pulled me up into a sitting position.

I hesitated, knowing I had to take my mask off to see what was wrong but truly not wanting to. Piper managed to unbuckle the straps of my mask and winced as he saw what was underneath. My mind went slightly mad not knowing if he was wincing at the injury I had caused myself or the fact that, compared to the rest of the D.O.D, I'm truly the worst looking, beauty-wise, that is.

Hitting my mouth so hard on the canvas of the mat below us, I had managed to hit my mask in a way that the bottom edge, which curved under my chin, cut into my flesh and made me bleed.

I put my hand up to the cut and Piper quickly held my arm by the wrist and shook his head, "Don't you dare."

By the time I received medical aid, which consisted of cleaning the cut and putting a band-aid on it, Piper had given me back my mask and asked if he could work out with me sometime. Knowing that he was currently on a different show, I said sure and we had split ways.

END OF ONE'S BEGINNING IS ANOTHER'S END / JANUARY 3RD

#Lucifarians #wrestling fic

[goldenmazzello]

Lay all your love on me | Part 2

(I don't own this gif. Credits to the owner)

Warning: Alcohol, anxiety, angst, hungover, languague, mixed feelings, flashbacks. 

W/C: 5k.

Masterlist

~

Although you were all exhausted from your last day on set, you were going out and have some fun and celebrate. You needed this. You all needed this. So when Ben suggested to go to a new bar for some drinks all of you enthusiastically agreed, especially because you, Joe and Rami were coming back to the US tomorrow.

Now, you were at your hotel room getting ready for your last night in London. You chose a little black dress with embroidery black sequins all over it, it also had a nice cleavage that left nothing to the imagination. That was your favorite dress, you felt absolutely confident when you wore it. You put on a pair of black high heels, you were almost ready.

Suddenly, you heard a knock from the door and gave a glance to the clock that was hang on the wall. Fuck. You were late and you hadn't done your make-up yet. You weren't used to wearing a lot of make-up, you prefered having a good skincare routine but since you've had eye bags from the exhausting week on set and your skin wasn't helping due to your PMS pimples, you decided to slightly cover them.

You opened the door and Joe was standing there, wearing a white dress shirt, a pair of black jeans, a leather jacket and a pair of black boots. He looked stunning.

"Wow, you look..." You both said at the same time and laughed. You moved your sight to the floor with blushy cheeks.

"Are you ready?" Joe asked while studying you with a curious expression from the door frame.

"Hmm...do we have time?" You played with your hands, nervously. "I mean, I've haven't done my make-up yet, but I promise it won't take more than 5 minutes. Please Joey." You looked at him with puppy eyes, trying to convince him. He chuckled.

Joey. You were the only person who called him like that. You thought that maybe his mother called him like this but no, you were the only one and Joe found it pleasant. He got annoyed when someone who wasn't you used that nickname.

"Okay, you are already pretty but anyway, you can do it, we have like 10 minutes." He checked his watch as he entered the room and sat on your bed.

"Thank you!" You hugged him and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He could feel your scent. His heart began to beat hard like a hammer. He swallowed.

You grabbed your makeup bag which was a few inches away from the bed on a table and started to apply your red lipstick quickly. Joe was following every movement. You bent over the table to have a better look of your face in your little mirror to apply concealer and Joe couldn't help but fixate his eyes on your thighs and then, your ass. it wasn't the first time he did it, but that little dress allowed him to have a perfect view of your long legs and he couldn’t resist. 

"I'm ready!" You turned around and faced him, he was silent and pretended to look at the window. "You okay?" You walked towards him and grabbed his hand.

"Y-yes, I was just...thinking about our flight" He lied. You rubbed his hand gently and sat by his side. You'll be the death of him.

"Sure? You look...tense" You said worried.

He nodded. "I'm tired but I not going to stay in bed in our last night in London." He tittered.

"Okay, let's get going!"

~

The bar was overcrowded, something to expect for a bar that opened two weeks ago. There were some tables and chairs lined up against the walls and others were just packed into the middle of the room. It was kinda dark, since the lights were red colored, but it was perfect, you still could see people’s faces. Music from the 70s, 80s and 90s was playing at the background.

As you sat at the table, you could notice that it was full of bottles that Ben and Gwilym had brought, since they were the first of the group to arrive.

“Well, you really want us to celebrate tonight Ben.” You raised an eyebrow while looking at them. Ben giggled. 

“Of course!” He said as he grabbed a glass and poured champagne on it. “Where are Rami and Lucy?” 

“Here!” They shouted from the door and walked towards the table. “What the hell...we’re only six in here. why is the the perfect amount of alcohol for the entire bar?” Lucy asked, blinking. 

“Your blonde friend wants us to be shit-faced.” Replied Gwylim and took a sip of wine. Ben shrugged. 

You raised your drinks and Ben began talking "Cheers for this movie and everything that will come with this!"

"Cheers for us guys!" Rami shouted.

Bohemian Rhapsody was a very promising movie. It was one of the most anticipating of the year worldwide, so maybe it will lead to awards nominations such as the Oscars and it also will give all of you more recognition. The best was yet to come.

An hour later, you’ve already drunk half of what was on the table. it was going to be a long night.

There was a tall blonde girl leaned on the bar counter, who was gazing at your table. She was having a drink with a straw that made her lips look big. Maybe, she was doing it on purpose.

“Hey, that girl is trying to get your attention.” Ben elbowed Joe and he looked at her. 

Your eyes rapidly moved to Joe, waiting for his next move. 

“Go and have fun.” Gwylim blinked. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think she’s looking for me.” Joe commented.

Joe wasn’t interested at all, especially since you were on his thoughts all day. But maybe, if he tried to talk to other women he could keep his mind occupied for a bit. Whatsmore, he has been in a forced celibacy for the past months due to filming so it could be an opportunity.

"Are you kidding me? Joe, she's been staring at you for like the last five minutes." Gwilym said. "Go and invite her a drink, do something!"

Joe hesitated for a minute until he put his phone in his pocket and went with her.

You didn't know why, but something made you feel sick to your stomach. Why were you feeling like this for Joe? He was your friend and you should be happy for him. Did you...like him? It wasn't a secret that he was very attractive, but you never thought about him as your lover.

Your not-so-sober state was making you feel so nauseous. You were also tired from your last days of work which were stressing and hadn't been eating properly because you were busy. This wasn’t going to end well. 

You stopped drinking and sighed. There was a growing unease running through your veins, you couldn't take it anymore. You rushed to the bathroom. Fortunately, you were the only one in there. You locked yourself in an individual loo and pressed your forehead against the door, breathless. You closed your eyes and tried to catch your breath, but you felt as if the sharp point of a knife was stabbing you in the chest. The feeling of your heavy pounding heart and a persistent tightness in your shoulders were taking over you. You began to count, one, two, three, four to remove the explosion in your brain that was sending your thoughts spiraling out of control. You couldn't put into words the way you were feeling.

A few minutes later, your breath was becoming normal. You stayed there, trying to recover.

You thought it wasn't going to happen anymore, or at least tonight.

On the other side of the bar, Ben noticed that you were gone. He looked for you desperately, but he couldn't find you anywhere.

He immediately went to the bar counter where Gwilym was standing there, laughing out loud, he has just moved his hand on Joe's head and disheveled him, showing off his perm. Joe wasn't happy at all but the girl just laughed and continued talking.

"Guys, I can't find (y/n) anywhere." Ben explained.

Joe's eyes widened. he apologized with the girl and looked for you. Gwilym followed him.

"Why don't we tell Lucy to go and see if she's in the bathroom? She might be there."

"It's a good idea but, where is Lucy?" Joe moved to the crowd where Rami and Lucy were rocking their bodies to some 80s love songs.

Joe explained her what happened and she went to the bathroom. Rami helped the boys.

What if someone hurt you? what if you were in danger and you couldn't ask for help? Joe couldn't stop thinking about the worst case scenario. He felt a twinge in his chest.

As Lucy entered the bathroom, she looked under each door and felt relaxed when she saw your black high heels there.

"(y/n)? (y/n), are you okay?" She knocked the door.

She sent a message to your group chat.

Lucy: I found her, she's in the bathroom. Don't worry.

"Yes, absolutely." You opened the door and she almost jumps. Your eyes were red and your mascara was running on your cheeks.

"What happened? Did someone do anything to you?" She hugged you tight and you hugged she back even thighter.

"No, no. I'm just...I don't know, I was feeling anxious but I think I'm better now." You moved to the mirror and opened the tap water. You washed your face.

"Was it for anything in particular? What were you doing when you started feeling like that?"

You explained the situation and she hugged you again. “I’m here for you, don’t worry.” She said sweetily. You smiled. 

You came back and the guys sighed in relief.

"She's okay, don't bother her." Lucy warned them. Joe sat beside you and put his hand on your shoulder.

"Do you need anything?" Rami asked.

"Give me that." You snatched the wine bottle off his hands.

The blonde girl showed up again. She whispered something on Joe's ear and gave him a piece of paper. Then, she blinked at him and left the bar.

"Man, what's on the paper?" Ben was dying to know about it. Joe gave it to Rami. Ben stucked out his tongue.

Rami opened it. "Ohh, what a heartbreaker you are, Mr. Mazzello." He gave it back to him. Joe held it in his hands as he read.

"I really liked your perm. If you fancy doing something after the bar, let me know 64788433"

Joe tore the paper and took a sip of wine. Ben, Rami and Gwilym's jaw dropped. You felt relieved. "What?"

"I can't believe you're wasting such an opportunity!" Ben said with a wide eyed face.

"She's not my type." He continued drinking.

He didn't feel like leaving you. He felt alarmed by your state, you were his friend and he wan’t going to leave you when you were feeling like that.  Although he didn't know what happened to you, he could notice you were tense. He would do anything to make you feel better.

"Dude, you're mad. It's your last night here." Rami insisted. Joe didn't care.

"And, what about you? Did you find anyone for tonight" Gwilym asked you, mischivously.

You almost choke. "W-What?"

"You know, a one-night stand.” He moved up his eyebrows. You giggled.

"I'm not much into that, I'm more classic, you know." You confessed.

"Come here, I'm gonna find you a hot date!" Lucy begged you.

"It's okay Lu, I wanna be on my own tonight." You smiled gently.

~

It was 2 a.m, you were all a mess and there were like 3 more hours ahead. Oh shit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to our place tonight.” Yelled a man from the little scenario, holding a microphone. ”It’s 2 a.m and that means, It’s karaoke time!” He raised his arms and people clapped excitedly. “We invite you to come here with a partner and give us a performance! Who will be our first duo tonight?” 

“Here! These pretty girls right here are going to sing first.” Ben jumped from his chair and pointed at you and Lucy, who gaped at you. 

“Oh no, shut up Benjamin!” You tried to sat him back to his place but it was impossible. 

“Come on girls, let’s go!" The man encourage both of you. Everybody turned their heads to your table. You swallowed.

"Are you sure?" You asked Lucy and she shrugged.

"I guess we have to do it, we have no choice." She said in a small panicky voice as the whole bar was waiting for you to go.

"Fuck, then let's do it."

You rapidly took two more shots of vodka so as not to be so conscious of what you were going to do and walked towards the scenario with her. As you got out of your chair, Joe followed your body with his eyes. He swore no one ever looked so good in a dress and it hurt him to know he couldn't have you that night.

Ben took out his phone from his pocket and started to record, maybe it would end up posted on Instagram.

"So, to who do we owe the pleasure tonight?" The man handed Lucy and you microphones.

"I'm Lucy and she's my friend (y/n)." Everybody clapped and there were some whistling. For a second, you regretted wearing that dress.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Lucy and (y/n)!" He yelled, leaving the scenario.

You both moved to the little screen you had in front of you. Lucy chose Wannabe by the Spice Girls.

You took a deep breath and started singing. "Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want." You moved your head to Lucy's direction.

"So tell me what you want, what you really, really want." She sang and held your hand. You both started moving your hips from side to side following the rhythm of the music, trying to remember some moves from the music video.

The boys were singing and clapping from the table, totally enjoying it. You started to feel more comfortable and to enjoy it too.

"If you wanna be my lover." You both sang the last line of the song and hugged. You quickly came back with the boys while you heard clapping again.

"You girls nailed it!" Rami gave Lucy a quick peck.

"I still hate you, Ben. You better be careful, I'll kill you." You blustered annoyed. He mocked you. 

"Please tell me you're going to sing with me!" Joe put his best puppy face that made it hard to deny anything.

"Yeah Joe, when pigs fly!"

Two hours later, you and Joe were on the scenario, you were totally sloshed.

"Purple rain, purple rain. I only wanted to see you underneath the purple rain." You both sang from the top of your lungs. Joe had his arm around your waist and you had yours around his neck, moving backwards and forwards, trying to dance.

"For you Ben, I'll ruin my voice for you!" Joe pointed at Ben, who was trying to hide behind Gwilym.

Joe lost his balanced and fell to the ground, but that didn't stop him for singing. Screaming.

"I only wanted to see you underneath the AHHHHHHHH PURPLE RAIN, PURPLE RAIN, UHHHHHH." He grabbed your leg like a kid.

"Okay Joey, it's enough." You burst out laughing and helped him up.

~

As fast as you opened your eyes, you closed them. A merciless sunbeam was squirting straight in, making the oppressive force in your head go deeper. You turned around and checked your phone, 12:30 p.m, you had to be at the airport in exactly five hours. 

You couldn’t remember neither coming back to the hotel nor falling asleep. As you sat up bed with a rather unpleasant feeling, you felt a shiver down your spine, the room was cold and you were still wearing your black dress. You felt a wave of nausea and ran to the bathroom. You ended up bent over the toilet, puking your guts out. You haven’t been like this in months. The last time you were like this was last year when your ex broke up with you. When you finished puking, you struggled to lift your head up, but the head throbbing was making it impossible. You rested your head in your hands and began to rub your temples, trying to massage away the headache. It was pointless. You felt you were going to die in about five minutes. 

You looked at your face in the mirror, your mascara was running on your cheeks and your red lipstick was smeared, you looked terrible. After cleaning up your face with a damp cloth, you turned on the shower and tossed your dress and your underwear. You felt really gross. The drops of water running down your body felt warm and you enjoyed it. After a long shower, you got changed into your comfiest clothes and finished packing. 

While you were drinking water, your phone buzzed. Joe was calling. 

“Hey, how are you?” Asked Joe with a husky voice. He might have just woken up. 

“I feel like shit, I’m never drinking again.” You protested. Joe laughed. 

That's what everybody says waking up with a terrible hangover and then, they drink again and repeat it over and over again.

“We both know that’s a pretty unconvincing lie.” 

“Well, I’m not drinking any soon. That sounds better?” 

“Absolutely.” You nodded, smiling. “Can you come to my room? I can’t move and I feel I’m about to pass out if I don’t drink water soon. Please, I’m gonna die, don’t let me die!” Joe screamed, being totally dramatic. 

“You aren’t gonna die, Joey. I’m on my way.” You hang and walked towards his room. You knocked the door and Joe cursed, he had to get out of bed. 

“God, I can’t even walk.” Joe said as you entered the room. He jumped back to bed. “Come here.” 

“Are you sure?” You asked, walking on his direction. 

“Of course, come here, I’m gonna die.” Joe pouted. You rolled your eyes and lay in bed. 

You called room service and they brought you bottles of water and some snacks. 

“Joe, you have to take short sips of water.” 

“I’m thirsty.” 

“I know but it would get worse.” You squeezed his bottle and now, his face was wet. You laughed out loud. 

“You’ll regret it.” He left the bottle on the nightstand and started to tickle you. 

“Please, please, please, Joe, stop or I’m gonna throw up the water, please stop” You begged between laughs. Joe stopped and you sighed in relief. 

“Well, I see you aren’t feeling so bad after all.” 

“Kinda, but I wanna stay here until we head to the airport.” He moved close to you. 

“So do I.” You placed his head on your chest and hugged him. Joe felt he was going to die. 

Never had he been this close before. He didn’t want to move because he was practicaly on your boobs. He tried to avoid any dirty thoughts but his view wasn't helping. When he felt your fingers through his hair, he closed his eyes.

Joe wished this was part of his routine. You and him, waking up together on the same bed, him, giving you kisses all over your face and body. He wanted to kiss you so bad. He liked to think that your lips were as soft as a cotton. He hoped someday he’ll find out if he was right.

"You know," said Joe, breaking the silence. "I think you've never told me, but how did you find out about Queen?" Joe questioned.

It was a rainy cold saturday afternoon. Boredom had taken over you, so you decided to sit on your computer while your mom was baking a delicious banana bread while your dad was working on a project for his job, you assumed that he had become a workaholic because no one would ever dedicate so much time to his job on a free day.

"Can you look for a song on YouTube? It's awfully noiseless in here." Your dad said stretching his back, he had been sitting for like 5 hours.

You knew that your dad liked The Rolling Stones so you clicked on Start me Up music video. When it finished, you checked on YouTube's suggestions. Queen - I Want to Break Free. You knew that Queen was a well-known British band but you've never listened to any of their songs.

"Dad, mom, do you like Queen?"

"Yeah, well, I used to listen to them a lot when I was young." Your dad told you.

"One of my favorite songs by Queen used to be I Want to Break Free." Your mom said as he took out the banana bread out of the oven. It smelled amazing.

"That's the one YouTube suggested me."

You watched the music video while eating what your mother have just cooked. What a pretty girl, you thought when a blonde schoolgirl appeared in the kitchen. A few months later, you realized it was actually Roger Taylor.

"I can't believe you thought he was actually a girl." Joe couldn't stop laughing.

"In my defense, some people in the 70s thought he was a woman."

"And then what happened?"

"Then, there wasn't a day in which I didn't listen to Queen, and nowadays it's still that way. I really love them. They helped me through difficult times and they still do.” 

He smiled. “It’s crazy how every person has at least a memory of Queen in their lives. I remember that Bohemian Rhapsody was the first song I downloaded on Napster.” You interrupted him. 

“Which is ilegal.” 

“Shh, don’t tell Brian and Roger.” You giggled. “And then,” he continued. “When I directed Undrafted, I would drive every morning listening to Somebody to Love and it gave me good vibes for the day. It was great” 

You talked for like two hours about Queen. Now, you were on Joe's chest. "What are your plans for the next days?" Joe started to play with your hair.

"I'm staying in New Jersey with my family, you know, it's been a while since I've seen them. And the other week I'm having an audition in New York for a theater play."

"Great, what is its name?"

"It's Romeo and Juliet. A classic. I really hope I'll get this, otherwise I don't know what I'll do." You sighed.

"You'll get the role, don't worry about it, you are wonderful." Joe grabbed your hand and you rubbed his.

"Thank you. And what are you up to this week? Any meeting or something?" You inquired.

"Not yet. I'm going to visit my family and some friends and of course I'll wait for you to free so we can start with our To do list in New York." He smiled sheepishly.

"I can't wait for it!"

"Hmm, I was meaning to ask it earlier but anyway, what happened last night?"

You were frozen. You tried to find the exact words to explain him you were feeling anxious and that you didn't know the reason why. He let you know that you could always count on him.

A few minutes later, Joe fell asleep, he was still holding your hand. You stared at him for like an eternity and thought about how you felt last night. You weren't sure about your feelings as something more than a friend. You loved him with all your heart, he had become someone you really cared for, you were together all the time and you knew that it would still be like that from now.

He had a peaceful look in his face that made your heart melt. You were grateful that you were going to spend a few days in your hometown where you will have enough time to clear your mind.

~

After a week at your parents' home, you came back to your apartment in New York and now, you were getting ready for your audition. You kept reading the script over and over again while you were on your way in the taxi.

While you were waiting in the queue to enter the theater, your phone buzzed. It was a message.

Joe: Good luck sweetie!

You were beaming from ear to ear.

~

Joe finished cooking one of his specialties, meatballs with spaghetti, his favorite food. His friend Aaron was about to come in any minute. It was a long time since they last reunited, especially because they were busy with their acting careers.

The doorbell rang and Joe opened the door of his house. Aaron Tveit was standing there, holding a bottle of wine and some cans of beer happily.

As they ate, they talked about their lasts projects and brought up some memories of Joe's movie, Undrafted, in which they were co-stars. When they were about to finish the delicious supper, the doorbell rang. They looked at each other.

"Is it really the doorbell?" Aaron asked, confused.

"Yes but, that's strange, I'm not expecting anyone."

Joe opened the door and his gaze flickered over your presence. 

“I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow, what a lovely surprise!” His smiled disappeared when he noticed you were weeping. "What's wrong?" 

“Sorry I came out of the blue but I really need you.” When you leaned over the frame of the door trying to enter his house, you saw he had a guest. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know you had people tonight. I can come tomorrow morning." You moved backwards. 

“Don’t leave, (y/n).” He grabbed your arm. “You can join us.” You hesitated, “Please, stay.” 

You entered his house and he took you to the kitchen, not before telling his friend he would be back in a minute. You sat on the counter and he stood in front of you. “Tell me, what happened?” 

“The audition...” You played with the edge of your shirt, avoiding his gaze. “It was awful, they treated me so unkind...and obviously I didn’t get the role.” 

“I’m so sorry, (y/n).” He embraced you in such a tender and warm way that made you feel safe immediately. He rubbed your back and whispered sweet things in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

You couldn't lie, in the days you spent away in New Jersey, Joe couldn't leave your mind. He was there, 24/7 and you couldn't stop talking about him to your family. Your mom only needed two hours to say you were having feelings for him, despite your denial. 

“Forget about that.” He took you to the dining room, where his friend was with his phone. As he saw you were coming, he left it on the table and smiled.

"(y/n), he's Aaron. Aaron, she's (y/n)." Joe introduced each other. Aaron was a brown haired man with beautiful blue eyes. He seemed to be in his mid 30s, just like Joe.

You remembered seeing them on tv, he was in Gossip Girl!

"It's nice to meet you, Joe talked about you a lot!" He admitted. Joe blushed and you smiled.

Did he really talk about you with his friends?

Joe insisted on serving you a plate of food and you acepted it. An hour passed, now you felt better, Aaron was so friendly.

“I’m having an audition on friday for a musical, If you like, I’ll give you the script.” Aaron said while you were having a sip of wine. 

“What is it about?” 

“It’s a Broadway musical based on the movie Grease. I think you’ll like it. They are looking for someone to play Sandy Olsson." 

You almost choke. “B-Broadway? Oh God. I don’t know..” 

Broadway. It was a tempting proposal, but you weren’t sure if you were going to be acepted to play a role in a such an incredible musical, especially after your failed audition from today. 

“Hey, why don’t you give it a try?” Suggested Joe. “You have nothing to lose. It’s a big opportunity, you should definitly go.”

“And you still have time to prepare for this.” Aaron unlocked his phone and asked for your number. “I’ve just sent you the script. Don’t worry, I can help you if you want, you can call me at any moment and I’ll try to help you. Tomorrow I’ll send you the adress and everything you need to know. And if you want, I can pick you up and we can go together.” 

“That would be nice, thank you.” You smiled. 

“So, that’s a yes?” Joe asked expectantly. 

“Yes!” 

Joe was absolutely happy for you. However, his mind was being cruel.

“Joey, are you listening to me?” You asked him. He rubbed his eyes. 

“Sorry, I think I’m falling asleep. What were you saying?” 

“Can I stay here tonight?” 

“Sure!” 

He had to do something, too much love will kill him. 

#joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello #joe mazzello x y/n #joe mazzello x you #joe mazzello x oc #joe mazzello headcanon #borhap cast x reader #borhap cast #borhap #borhap boys x reader #borhap boys #joe mazzello angst #goldenmazzello

[rpbetter]

a vent (feel free to ignore if it's too much!): so recently i've noticed psd makers getting anon asks on whether they're ok with people who write certain topics (mostly rpf, incest, rape, underage, the usual "problematic" topics) using their recourses. now, i don't roleplay any of these subjects on tumblr, so even if a content creator said not to use their stuff, it's not even something i need to worry about - but, and maybe this is me overthinking it, what if i, someday, write a noncon fanfic on ao3? i'm still not using their resources on the subject or writing it on tumblr, but i'd probably feel weird about it, like i'm crossing some boundary. what if a psd maker whose content i've already purchased suddenly goes "actually don't use my psds if you rp abusive relationships", which is probably the closest to what people consider "taboo themes" of the things that i roleplay. it just feels like a fine line between personal boundaries and a shitty situation for a customer - not wanting to cross boundaries but already having PAID for something previously, when no such rules existed. it's making me want to 1. block everyone i see saying this, because even though i don't personally roleplay the topics above, i don't feel SAFE around people who tell others what kind of fiction they are allowed to enjoy and 2. just quit using people's resources and spend years learning to make my own psds so i won't have to worry about this shit. it's just stressing me out, as someone who has been harrassed and bullied online for speaking against censorship. i've had literal sock accounts made just to spew targetted harrassment at me on twitter. i've been accused of being a pedo and supporting incest and this is??? literally for saying "i don't think real people should be harrassed for fictional shit", i've not even shipped underage or incest ships. both make me uncomfortable. but fuck, antis make me 1000000x more uncomfortable than people who ship these kinda ships. i digress, this got rambley, i just. do you have any advice on what to do with the potential psd situation, or am i really just overthinking it? (always worried i accidentally send stuff like this off anon. help)

I need you to know that I actually had to rush-scroll back up and just double check that you did submit on anon lol! I always get worried I'll miss the one person who accidentally didn't use anon, if it makes you feel any better! When someone does submit with their URL attached, I message them first to be sure they are okay with them having it posted that way/it wasn't an accident ;) That's what I would want someone to do!

Alright, so, anyhow...

I've also noticed that becoming a more common thing and it's been on my (maybe huge) list of things to look into for a bit because I really do try to make sure I'm not just noticing things in my areas of the RPC/failing to notice things that do not impact me. Since I do all my edits and graphics, it falls into the first category for me. So, thank you for moving that up the list and informing me that it really is more prevalent and not my imagination!

My take on seeing it was a combination of business logic and anxiety, not going to lie.

On the first: charging to do a psd that is just that, just a psd file being used as a template/to act as an easier version of a photoshop "action" in a way, that's 100% legal and fine. Absolutely no muddy waters there. However, charging to do things like icons, edits, etc. that include images of celebrities and stills from movies (or gifs) is quite muddy. Legally, it's not legal. It's a thing we're allowed to do and use (on most platforms) because we're not making money off of it, we're not claiming to hold rights to the images, and so on - it's ignored but illegal. Charging money for it, however, even when phrased as "for my time" (which, absolutely valid feeling), is a more serious form of illegal and potentially attention-getting. This all gets more iffy though when we add donation instead of direct commission/purchase when working with these copyrighted materials. You can ask people to donate and suggest a donation based on your time spent, and that is always what I advise people to do.

Okay, so, that preface is necessary because the thing about stipulating use-rights is that they're iffy, too, there are variables present.

Often, these same people are charging for things like icon packs as well, meaning that even if they're only charging you for a template-style psd file sans imagery they don't own, they've kind of shot themselves in the foot. Not to mention, it's exceedingly damn hypocritical to pitch a fit about someone violating your rights when you're literally using other people's copyrighted materials lmao And that does tend to occur to me, yeah, it's a consequence of attorney friends and running businesses.

The other issues with this are that usage rights have to be stated at the time of purchase and morality clause-style shit, as pertains to products, is not legally binding.

When you purchase something like a psd file, that purchase acts as a sort of contract.

Think of like...buying a photoshop brush set - the person selling it puts very simple rules as to its use, such as: non-commercial use only, brush pack cannot be resold or distributed for free, separate brushes from the pack cannot be resold or distributed for free individually. Meaning that you own the brushes you bought, but you are not legally allowed to make real-life money from anything you use them in, and you cannot send the whole pack or files individually to friends for free or charge other people for them. By buying these, you have agreed to these stipulations of use and ownership.

If the person sells psd's and you agree to what they've stated about the use (you can't use them to do commissions you make IRL money from, you can't give them away to friends, etc.), that's binding even somewhere as casual as RP Land. The exchange of real currency makes it that serious.

However, there are limits to stipulations of use! One of those things is when you agreed - this person cannot, even one literal second, later change their terms of use and retroactively hold you to them. If they were okay with you not crediting them anywhere or using them in works you will gift others or charge others something like game currency for at the time you purchased, then that's it. Tough shit for them, not you, when they decide a month later that they want credit given where the work appears, that they do not want finished products gifted, or don't want you to make even in-game currency from them.

And that absolutely would apply to the morality wank, yes.

Except that this very morality wank comes with its own issues. Reality is not tumblr. In reality, at least in most instances and countries, you can't throw in a fucking morality clause regarding the buyer, use of item, or finished product.

Think of this in this way: Chik-Fil-A starts denying chicken and waffle fries to anyone suspected of being queer. They're legally allowed to run their business (as a private business, everything does have variables) with some things that are morally objectionable that they feel morally aligns with their religious beliefs. They're not allowed to deny queer workers a job or queer customers service, however, in accordance with overarching laws.

While "being gross" online in fiction is not like, making anyone a protected status person lol this is just an extreme example to drive home the point. Legally, when it comes to items/products be they digital or physical, your rights and responsibilities as the seller don't include your moral policing.

What your right is, is to make people uncomfortable to a degree, yeah. You absolutely can do that. You can state some nasty shit about prospective buyers you don't want. For example, they should (I mean, they should just grow up and get some real concerns, but) be stating that they would not like to see their psd's used by people on this following DNI list of idiocy, and they will block those users if possible to prevent interaction and purchase. That's really it, that's what they can do and the least immature way to proceed.

On the second: none of this logic would make me feel comfortable about interacting with them and their psd's in the future once they had outed themselves as morally objectionable and dangerous to me with this nonsense. And I would still feel anxious about using things I had previously bought because once harassed...it doesn't really go away, does it? It would just give me some ease about the latter with things I'd already made. Like, I could keep using the icons I'd made with those psd's with a little bit more comfort knowing that they honestly have not a leg to stand on outside of their harassment.

I might have the tendency to respond to harassment without much upset, but that doesn't mean I want to be harassed. Especially when I am not doing anything that draws that kind of attention. Not that harassment is warranted over anything, but when I make a PSA or answer an ask that I know is likely to get their attention and piss them off? That's an acceptable risk I am knowingly taking. When I'm just going about my life as a RPer, it isn't.

So, I don't feel like you're overthinking it or being too concerned! In no way did you sign up for getting unwanted attention, and because it has happened before, of course, you're trying to insulate yourself from having it happen again. That's totally reasonable!

Now, what you could do about it...

It's another of those situations in which we're only truly capable of controlling ourselves. Everyone else is kind of a NPC.

You don't have to do anything I'm suggesting, but these are things I would do!

I would block the shit out of anyone saying these things/trying to make them stipulations, yes.

By that, I mean that I would also visit blogs they appear to interact with and they'd be blocked as well. We can all reblog something like resources or a shit post from a user we do not agree with without realizing it, but when it's frequent reblogs, direct support, and friendly vibes going on, it's safer to assume that they are aware their friend sucks. More importantly, that they do not think their friend sucks and support their views.

Even if that is not the case, do you want someone else's repeated inattention to expose you to bad actors? Nope! So, don't run the risk of paying and otherwise interacting with the one resource blog in the group that doesn't express these views/"requirements," but does involve themselves with those who do.

Try to find people selling these resources, that are not connected to the problem ones, who do not have those views. Once a trend starts, it is very hard to stop until it has run its course naturally, so, this might be difficult and take some extreme effort. You might want to consider asking like-minded friends who use psd's where they got them so you can check those users out for yourself.

If they're all the same, problem, people...

Look for users well outside of your corner of the RPC(s) who are not asking to be paid. I know it sounds wild, but there really are RPers out there who just enjoy making things for others! I can think of at least one right off on my dash. They might not be advertising for doing psd's or psd packs, but either they might be willing to do so (especially if they do not appear policing-positive) if you explain what is going on, or they could at least fill some requests for you for fully made icons and such. Hell, people who love doing this work usually know others who do as well, and anti-policing people quite reasonably stick together. They could have suggestions for someone not vile selling psd's.

Depending on what it is you want your psd's to do, I promise you that it wouldn't take you very long to learn it. I know...I know lol that's both really easy for me say when I've been doing it for over twenty years and am about to piss some people off. The latter because the most common settings on popular psd's are extremely simple shit, a lot of that is the kind of thing you're expressly told not to do in design work. Like ramping up extreme contrast, pixelating the fuck out of an image, and turning up the primary colors only. Once you get to playing with photoshop or an equivalent, you will totally see what I mean. You can accidentally make an icon look identical to something that is on trend in the RPC. If that was what you were going for? You've hit the mark, and it's just repetition and tweaking it here and there!

Once you start playing with it, too, it's actually pretty intuitive when it comes to the basic things like resizing, adjusting colors and contrast, and doing easy effects like blurs and sharpening. Frankly, playing with it is better than half the tutorials you'll find because they get unnecessarily complicated when all you want to do is crop your muse's face, overlay some color, and add a damn dotted border. Listen, like I said, I have a lot of experience...and I find many tutorials frustrating and overwhelming!

It is not just you, you're not dumb or anything. People get very comfortable with something and when they try to explain it to others, they use terms and methods that are more advanced or specific to them than they realize. That's all!

If you have friends who make their own things, ask them some very basic questions about what you want to do. They know you, so, they'll know better how to explain to you, specifically. Just keep it simple until you've had some time to experiment! Ask things like, "I want to take this image, resize it to be an icon, and add an orange tint to the image while sharpening only my muse's features...how would I do that? Easy mode?"

And! You don't even have to pay for photoshop or pirate it anymore! Photopea is as an exact copy as possible entirely located in your browser for free. It's all overwhelming at first, a real case of too many options and ways to do the same thing, but the only way it gets less overwhelming is just diving into it. Dive in, get a little frustrated, have some successes, make some awesome discoveries, it gets a bit addicting in short order. Then, the tutorials and tips are so much easier to figure out and expand on, too.

If you'd like, you can always send me a pm here and ask me. I'm happy to try to explain how to do things, zero judgment or impatience. Just an additional option if you both decide to try learning and would feel comfortable doing that. Zero judgment as well on not wanting to do either of those things!

Okay, this one is much harder than learning PS basics because it's honestly a bit terrifying...the way these people are, they're going to take issue with you no matter what you do, and in the end, if they notice you and feel like bothering you, they will. There's literally nothing you can do about it. All you can do is try to buffer yourself, stay away from them, and be aware that you are not the problem.

Like with the AO3 thing or writing what could be viewed as toxic relationships. You can never write or be interested in a single, solitary thing that they're on about (and accusing you of doing in real life when the burning Eye of Moron turns your direction), but to them, you supporting the right of other people to do so is just as bad as doing it yourself. To them, the toxic relationships not only would be problematic, they'd be problematic enough. Being uncomfortable with their policing and feeling unsafe because of it is, to them, a red flag of how problematic you are. Writing anything they've deemed objectionable (or reading or viewing it, for that matter) anywhere, doesn't have to be on this platform or RP-adjacent, doesn't have to actually utilize any of their materials, is enough.

They're absolutely including you in who shouldn't use their shit. That's part of the "logic" and methodology of policing. Everyone is problematic, so, everyone can be labeled a pedo and harassed without too many people getting up in arms about it. No one is safe, so, everyone better behave. You don't actually have to be engaging with or enjoying things like underage, non/dubcon, rape, abusive relationships, etc.

It's gross, it's bullying, it's actually a problem...and there isn't much you can do.

All that is truly up to you is making an effort to avoid them, though, this is very often unfair and likely to get more unfair as resource blogs of all sorts deal in it more. At least, in this case, you do have some small bit of actionable power - by not ever buying from them. They wouldn't be charging if they did not either need or want the money, not giving it to them is a bigger hit than things like simply unfollowing/blocking, reblogging PSA's, and so on is!

Nope, it isn't like you're denying them some extreme amount of money by yourself, but every three, five, ten dollars is felt pretty hard when you desperately need money and/or are saving for something.

I know, I mean, I personally do know, that it's impossible to "get over" bullying, Anon. I'm in no way telling you to just get over it and move on, find some great well of not caring somewhere! What I'm saying is that there is power in not giving them power. The power to make you anxious, uncomfortable, unsafe, when you have every right to be here doing your thing and are not hurting anyone. And it might seem to be a deeply contrary sort of logic, but realizing and accepting that there are people out there who irrationally dislike you for literally no reason, that you cannot infallibly escape or avoid, despite doing nothing wrong is a bit empowering. Because it puts into perspective the things you can control, and when we know what is in our control, it's easier to just enjoy our time here without constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. If it drops, we can go put it back in the closet where it belongs.

It starts to put a positive spin on the whole, damned if I do, damned if I don't feeling, if that makes sense? I'm probably way too tired to try to be explaining this lol I'm sorry!

Anyway, again, I'm not implying you can or should do any, let alone all, of those suggestions! I just really hope that something will help you feel even a little bit more at ease. It's an unfair situation, it isn't right, and you have every reason to be uncomfortable and stressed. If I could make it happen, you better believe that every policing asshole out there would be writing heartfelt apology letters and sending donations to everyone they've upset lol but...since I can't make that happen, all I can do is say what I, personally, do, would do, or have done.

#answered #anonymous #purity police #resources #rp advice

[n-ctarinenga]

Flower Boy [ boxer!calum ]

flower boy series | pt.1 | word count: 5,659 | masterlist

"Thank you so much! I'll have these to you as soon as possible. Goodbye!"

Talia grins, as she farewells the family whos portraits she had just finished shooting.

As much as she loves photography, there were only so many matching outfits and unhappy children a person could handle in a day, and with the family that had just left her studio, Talia had reached her limit.

Draining days were something she had gotten used to, business booming lately thanks to the kind words of a handful of past clients. With doors only opening just under a year ago, Valentine Studios didn't exactly have the longest history in town, but Talia liked to believe her dedication and skill made up for lack of experience.

Her mother hadn't really approved of the move, her ideals for her daughter being stuck a few decades in the past.

With the thought of her mother flashing through her mind, Talia couldn't help but sigh as she moved to pack up her camera for the night.

After the great disbandment of the Alisley family, it was nearly impossible for either of the Alisley children to communicate with their mother, but that didn't stop Yvonne from making her annual call to her kids, mostly about the percentage paid out to them every couple weeks from their father's estate royalties, which in Talia's case, was this morning.

From that point onward, it felt like the universe had decided to torment Talia today.

Starting off with the phone call, and most recently manifesting as a set of twins who refused to do any form of posing with their parents, Talia couldn't wait to go home and sleep so she could start the next day fresh and away from the negative vibes of the current day.

Once her backdrops had been rolled up,  and her camera was safely stored in its bag, Talia finally had time to let down her dark brown hair, the two bright streaks of red framing her face. She took great pleasure in turning all the lights off, and locking the door of the studio behind her.

Taking a second to relax in her car, Talia looks at her phone, scrolling through til she reaches the contact of her brother, Brandon.

The Alisley family were estranged from each other these days, but that didn't mean that Talia and Brandon had stopped being lifelong best friends.

The two had always been close, only a couple years between the siblings. Growing up in a world surrounded by adults until they themselves were well into their teens, they were practically a package deal until they had both moved into their own apartments a few years ago.

As of late, while Talia was diving head first into Valentine, Brandon was knee deep in The Vault, the gym he had started not long before Talia opened her own business.

Sitting in her car, Talia contemplated calling him for a moment, her finger hovering over the call button as she thought.

With both of them being so busy, they had barely had time to catch up over the last couple months, and after the day she had had today, Talia needed a bit of chill time with the only other person in the world who could understand her situation.

Their father always joked they could communicate telepathically, and after not seeing him for so long, Talia missed speaking her native tongue.

Deciding to make her way over to the gym, Brandon always telling her he was there any Friday night she would try to make plans with him lately, Talia constructed a plan for what she would do once she finally had convinced her brother to stop throwing himself into his work every Friday night.

With The Vault situated downtown, it was a bit of a drive in Los Angeles traffic, but with the thought of the Thai food just up the street from the gym in her mind, Talia couldn't find it in herself to care about the lengthy journey.

The radio softly played one of the many playlists made on Talia's phone as she drove along, windows down and the breeze lightly whipping her hair around as she did her best to relax while she had the chance.

While most people were finishing their work week, Talia, being the head photographer at Valentine, was still one day away from her own weekend, working every Saturday since the studio opened. This made it easier for families to get together for their shoots, not having to worry about getting back to work and getting the kids back to school, and Talia could tell her clients appreciated it, which made the extra day of work worth it to her.

Propping her head up, with her left elbow resting on the top of the door, Talia can't help the frown that flashes onto her face as she approaches the gym.

Expecting to see only Brandon's car and maybe another employee's, the full parking lot beside the building confuses her. How many people would be at a gym after hours?

The confused frown on Talia's face lingers as she parks her car next one she definitely recognised as Brandon's, climbing out and locking it before pocketing her keys and approaching a man who looked slightly familiar, noticing he was one of Brandon's employees as she got closer.

"Johnny," Talia smiles politely, the man turning to her with wide eyes as he recognizes her, "what's happening here?" She asks.

Johnny stutters for a moment, looking around like he rather be anywhere else in the world at this exact moment.

"Oh, here? Just some regulars here for a get together. Your brother left a few hours back though." He says quickly, tripping over his words slightly, almost like he was making a story up as he went along.

Suspicion courses through Talia at the deflective words of the man much taller than she is, and if she didn't already know him, she probably would have been intimidated by his size alone.

"I just parked next to his car though, and it's kinda odd for Brandon to leave the gym open." Talia laughs awkwardly, not trusting of the excuse she was being given when she knew her brother better than to leave not only his business open, but also his car unlocked outside it.

"I think I'll just check things out for myself thanks Johnny." Talia states, before taking a step forward towards the entrance.

Sensing her disbelief, and his face turning to one of panic, Johnny takes a step sideways, blocking the door from Talia's path.

"Brandon said that you were banned from Friday nights. I'm sorry Talia." He finally says, and Talia can't help the look of surprise that covers her face.

"Me? Banned from the Vault? I hardly think so mate." She laughs, taking advantage of the height difference between them to duck under Johnny's arm, easily pushing the door open into the gym.

Immediately, Talia is met with a wall of noise.

A crowd, some seated, some not, surround the central boxing ring at the center of the building. The usual smell of cleaning supplies and sweat is amplified by the stench of beer radiating through the whole building, but even then, the thing that grabs Talia's attention isn't the crowd or their behavior, but instead, what they're watching.

In the center of the ring, two large, well built men circle each other. Talia watches on in horror for only a moment before one man launches his fist forward towards the others stomach, and it's in this moment she realizes that the men aren't wearing gloves, but thin bloodied wraps.

The crowd roar with a wave of life as the punch connects, the second man doubling over and leaving himself exposed to an onslaught the first delivers without hesitation.

Even with the presence of Johnny behind her, the only thing Talia can see is the pure violence playing out in front of her, realization growing by the second as her eyes finally break away from the ring to where her brother stands at the back of the crowd.

She can't help but think her father might have been right about the telepathy, because almost as if he could sense her eyes on him, Brandon's own find her.

All of the colour drains from Brandon's face as he excuses himself from the black haired man he's talking to, running around the outside of the crowd to reach his sister, who stands frozen in place.

He says nothing as he grabs Talia's hand, pulling her sideways into the office room to the right of the building, easily tugging her past the back of the crowd that still stare focused into the ring.

The clinical white lights above them come to life as Brandon flicks the switch beside the door, shutting it behind him quickly before he turns back to Talia.

"What are you doing here?" He asks quickly, inspecting her as if she was a wounded animal ready to pounce.

Fighting her disbelief at the situation and his question, Talia's eyes go wide as a wave of anger washes over her at his question.

"What am I doing here? What the fuck is that shit, Brandon?!" She throws back at him, her voice louder and stronger than she expected it to come out of her.

Waving his hands panicked, trying to get her to lower her voice, Brandon tries to shush her, which only makes her more ticked off.

"Look you weren't supposed to see that-"

"Answer my fucking question or I'll start screamin' it." She threatens, cutting him off mid sentence.

An angry and frustrated expression settles on his face as Brandon let's out a huff, not knowing how to word his explanation and remaining silent while he tries to find the right words.

"Is this why you've been blowing me off for months? You got some fucking fight club bullshit going on here instead?" She questions further, her voice breaking slightly with stress.

"I can't tell you all the fucking details in one breath, Talia. I wasn't exactly expecting you to find out like this."

Brandon argues, throwing his hand up in annoyance, which only confuses her more.

"What makes you think you have the right to be angry at me when you're the one that has the explaining to do?"

"Fuck! Alright! I get it!" He whisper yells harshly, face twisting in anger and making the siblings look even more alike than usual, Talia taking a step back at his sudden outburst, "look, the money is gonna get cut off one day, I'm thinking about my future, OUR futures here. That's what this shit is about."

"And what exactly is this shit, Brandon?" Talia asks, aggressively pointing towards the door that barely separated them from the crowd.

"It's boxing. Same shit you see on TV, just, not as commercial."

"This isn't the same shit as on TV! Those guys aren't even wearing gloves!" She argues, smacking the back of her hand as she speaks.

"Bare knuckle and wraps get better bets, the guys make their own decisions on if they do it or not." Brandon defends as he crosses his arms.

Talia shakes her head in annoyance, her face twisting. Everything was happening so quickly, meaning she barely had enough time to process all the information being thrown at her.

"You're scared of mommy cutting off the royalties so this is what you do instead?" She asks.

"The money is gonna get cut off and it's gonna be sooner rather than later. Do you expect me to suck up forever? To hide Sam til she dies too? Mom hates both of us now and you know it just as well as I do."

Talia feels her throat tighten at his words. Her stomach felt like it was close to emptying its content as the gut punch of his words hit her at a hundred miles per hour.

"Shut the fuck up. You know I love Sam and you know I don't want to do it just as much as you don't want to. But you're right, it will be sooner if she finds out about this." She spits back.

Taking a step towards him, arms crossed, Talia holds steady eye contact as she looks up to her brother.

"You're not the only one she can fuck over. When she finds out and cuts me off too, what the fuck are we gonna do, huh?" She whispers harshly as the crowd outside the room bursts into life again, the next round starting.

Brandon breaks the eye contact between them as he stares at the ground, fists clenched at his sides as the obvious stress of the situation flashes across his face.

"She won't, not yet."

Talia rolls her eyes as her arms uncross, leaning back against his desk.

"Mom always finds out."

"She won't this ti-"

Brandon is interrupted by the office door swinging open, a tall man with blonde hair and a panicked look on his face ignoring Talia to address Brandon the second his eyes land on him.

"Hood's broken Knight's nose." He says in a rush, causing Brandon to groan, following the man out the door before turning back to Talia.

"Don't leave this office, I'll be back soon."

Talia throws her brother a sarcastic thumbs up before he rushes off, the door clicking shut behind him.

Talia felt like her mind was in the worst spin she'd ever experienced. Finally the late nights, the astronomical bills being excused as gym costs, the secrets, they all made sense.

As angry as she was with her brother, she was more worried about him than anything.

Seeing the crowd, the action in the ring, it was more than just the sparring she would see from time to time as she made the rounds to check in on things. These people were out for blood, and would throw as much money as they needed at it to make it happen. This wasn't the kind of thing she ever expected Brandon to be involved in, and it shocked her that he's involved in that world obviously as more than just a spectator.

Sitting down in the office chair, Talia rests her elbows on the desk in front of her, covering her face with her hands as she tries to take a deep breath to calm her nerves, but jumping as the crowd outside roars again.

This wasn't something she was familiar with, and the uncharted territory this laid out in front of her felt like a minefield. Both her brother's lies, and the violence they were hiding.

With her anxiety peaking as she sits deep in her thoughts, she nearly yelps as the office door flies open, a tall man coming in and looking around for someone, before their eyes finally land on Talia.

If the sharp jawline, dark eyes and deadly look on his face didn't take her breath away, the ripped and bruised skin under his eye sure did.

A seemingly permanent scowl was set on the man's face, and his height and all black outfit just added to the intimidating stance he has as he lets the door swing shut behind him.

Talia couldn't help but notice that the man is attractive, even with blood dripping down his face, noticing his hair closely cropped to his head, apart from the wild bleached curls that fell onto his forehead.

For a brief moment, the angry look on the man's face softens upon seeing the smaller woman sitting behind his boss's desk, but it's instantly replaced by a look of confusion.

"Who the fuck are you?" He asks, his voice deeper than she expected with an unfamiliar accent laced into his words.

Slightly taken back, Talia frowns, withdrawing from the desk and standing up behind it, her defensive nature quickly taking over.

"I'm Talia Alisley, who the fuck are you?"

This time it's the man that's taken back, his eyebrows shooting up as he scoffs, arrogance in spades and tension building by the second as Talia crosses her arms in front of herself.

"I'm Calum Hood," He says, and Talia freezes.

Hood. Was he the Hood that the blonde man was talking about? The one who apparently had broken the nose of the guy Brandon was checking on?

"and I'm guessing you're the precious little sister." He comments, and this time it's Talia that raises her eyebrow. Did Brandon mention her to these guys?

"Too right I am, so don't fuck with me and we should be fine. Brandon said he'd be back soon." She replies, sitting back down with her arms still crossed and the scowl on her face settling in while in his presence.

Deep down, Talia knew it was probably a bad idea to piss off the guy who was not only bleeding, but the cause of a broke nose two rooms over, but her pride and defensive nature was far more powerful than the anxiety swirling in her stomach.

"No need to worry about that, princess." Calum rolls his eyes in annoyance. If Brandon was gonna send him to his office, he could at least show up instead of wasting his time, and give him a warning.

Talia was thankful in that moment for the low light of the room on account of the desk lamp being off, hiding the blush that made her ears burn. Yeah, he might be a dickhead, but he was still an attractive dickhead.

Slumping down into the chair opposite Talia with a huff, Calum shakes his head, while Talia stays stone faced across from him.

"You alright?" She asks after a moment, referring to where blood still sits on his cheekbone.

Calum frowns at her attitude change, not aware of the injury that he sustained from Knight's ringed hand landing a right hook before Calum landed his own.

In his defense, Knight should have known better than to touch his gear.

With the confused look flashing across his face for a longer period this time, Talia can't help but roll her eyes.

"You're bleeding under your eye, bro." She points out.

As Calum reaches up to touch his cheek, the door opens, the blonde man from before walking in with Brandon in toe as Talia thanks her lucky stars.

"Not gonna lie I thought you would have left by now." Brandon says, looking at Talia first while her eyes stay on the actions of the blonde man opening a medical kit on the desk.

"Oh don't worry, I want to." She comments.

"So do I, can I go now?" Calum directs towards Brandon as the blonde man touches an alcohol wipe to his cheek, making his aggressive expression falter slightly.

"Once Luke says you're okay and once I've dealt with you, yes." He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Look," Talia says, standing up and holding her hands up in surrender, "obviously you've got a lot of shit going on here right now so we'll deal with this tomorrow." She gestures between them, walking around the desk and past the three men.

Letting out a sigh, Brandon sends her a look of appreciation.

"Thanks T, text me when you get home." He replies, to which she sends him a short nod.

"Luke, can you walk her out?" He asks, turning to the man getting up from kneeling in front of Calum.

"Yeah, no worries." He smiles, taking his gloves off and throwing them in the bin.

Walking out the door with Luke, Talia winces at the loudness of the crowd, thankful for the taller, now calm, man standing between them and herself.

"I'm Luke, by the way." He smiles kindly, holding his hand out for Talia to shake as they make it to the door.

"Talia. Gotta be honest, I wish this was under better circumstances." She smiles tightly back at him, shaking his hand.

"Yeah," he laughs, "me too."

As they make it outside, Talia leads Luke around the building to where her car sits, right next to Brandon's.

"Well, this is me."  She says, signalling to her car with the keys in her hand. "Thanks for walking me past all of that."

"No problem. Drive safe." Luke says with a small wave to her, and she gives him an appreciative smile.

"You too. See you 'round, Luke."

Climbing into her car, Talia sighs, relaxing only slightly in the familiar surroundings.

As she pulls away from the curb, Luke sends her a final wave before walking back into the gym.

Driving away, the adrenaline of the situation starts to wear off, and the reality of the situation starts to sink in.

"God, I'm gonna fucking kill him." Talia mutters to herself, turning the radio up and going over the night's events in her head as she drives back to her apartment.

The next morning, Talia awakes with a rock of dread weighing down her stomach.

Her mind immediately flashes back to the events of the night before, and as she showers, gets dressed and locks her apartment door, it almost felt like she wore the dread of the impending conversation she needed to have with her brother as a scarf tied too tightly around her neck.

Instead of heading straight to the studio and editing the photos of the last few days as usual, Talia instead took a deep breath as she started heading back towards Vault, having a couple hours to hopefully get answers before her first clients for the day were set to arrive at eleven.

The parking lot beside Vault sat a lot emptier today. Only a handful of cars sprinkled around, and just like last night, Talia pulls into the space beside Brandon's car.

Taking a moment before walking in, Talia leans back in her seat, closing her eyes.

She was scared. Of Brandon's explanation, of possibly having to accept whatever the fuck she had witnessed last night, of walking out more confused than she was about to walk in.

Her and Brandon had grown up play fighting, and catching an odd round or two when their dad decided to watch Friday Fight Night, but violence had never really been part of their lives in a physical form. Apart from a questionable wrestling phase when she was 14, Talia couldn't even remember the last time she saw two people in a ring together that wasn't casual sparring when she would frequent the gym in its early days.

None of it compared to what she saw last night.

With what happened still fresh in her mind, Talia climbs out of her car, pushing the door shut behind her.

Johnny doesn't stand by the entrance this morning, meaning Talia easily walks into the gym, the door squeaking slightly in protest as she pushes it open.

It's almost like nothing had even happened. All the equipment that was pushed against a wall last night now sits in its normal place, the shelves of alcohol behind the check in desk now stocked with protein powders like less than twelve hours ago the counter wasn't a very convincing bar.

Hearing her come in the door, a couple people look up from what they're doing, sending Talia a polite smile before returning to their work.

Calum Hood is not one of these people.

Almost like the universe had put a glowing neon sign over his head, Talia's eyes instantly wander towards where Calum stands next to the black haired man she recognized as the same person Brandon was talking to last night when she arrived.

Noticing her too, Calum’s encouragement of his best friend is interrupted by his eyes catching a flash of blue hair in his peripheral vision.

While he knew any animosity towards the woman who could probably have him fired with a few fake tears was a bad idea to hold onto, he couldn't help but feel annoyed upon seeing her in what he thought of as his domain.

Face settling into a frown as she looks across the room to the man who easily got on her nerves last night, Talia almost doesn't notice Brandon coming up behind her.

"Hey." He greets quietly, holding a takeaway cup of coffee out to his sister. "Time for that talk, huh?"

"Yeah. Think so." She takes the coffee with a nod of thanks, and hesitantly follows him to his office.

Talia couldn't tell if Brandon was trying to suck up to her with free coffee, but after sitting down at the chair in front of his desk and taking a sip, tasting vanilla latte, she knows he is.

"So, where should we start?" He asks, settling into his seat with a heavy sigh.

Talia scoffs lightly, raising her eyebrow.

"The beginning would be good."

Brandon nods, looking down at his desk to avoid meeting her eyes.

"The fights started around one, maybe two months after we opened, so we've been hosting them for about fourteen months now."

Talia's eyes go wide, disbelief covering her face as she places her cup on his desk forcefully.

"You're telling me you've been hiding this shit for over a year?" She asks, anger already starting to build.

"Yeah, and if you haven't fucking noticed, it's not been the easiest thing to do." He snaps, before holding his hands up, taking a deep breath and rolling his seat back slightly to calm himself, too much tension already in the air.

Talia bites her tongue, looking down at her hands before she signals to him to continue.

"A friend of mine, Ashton, he was part of an illegal boxing league running out of a rundown place up in Hollywood. I saw him fight there a couple times, saw the conditions myself. The guy running the show was a complete asshole to his guys, but they all needed the money, so they stuck around." He explains, voice quieter than before.

"One night we got to talking. I asked Ash if  he thought we might be able to make our own ring, give people a safer place to earn their money. Then we figured out how much we could earn from it, and with shit going so wrong with mom, I figured that if she pulled the rug out from under me, I could use the league as a safety net."

Piecing together the timeline in her head, and doing the best to absorb the information given to her, Talia remains silent and slowly nods along when needed.

"Him and I have built this thing from the ground up, and it's working for us. I manage the books, he manages the guys, and we take care of the admin together. With my connections to the rich assholes who have more money than they know what to do with, and with Ashton's connection to the guys who need that money and want to do it, we're doing really, really well, Talia."

This time it's Talia who avoids eye contact, looking down to her shoes as she curses the logical side of her brain for seeing sense in his story.

"How many people do you have fighting for you?" She asks.

Brandon let's out a heavy breath, waving his hand slightly.

"Around twenty, twenty five. We keep the doors open for the more occasional guy who needs the cash that week."

"And how often are the nights like last night happening?"

"Weekly. Every Friday, normally."

Seeing the hesitation on her face, bottom lip pulled between her teeth, Brandon sits forward to bring her attention to him, her eyes flicking up to meet his.

"I know this is a lot, and I don't expect you to be okay with it, but I do want you to know I'm being smart about this."

Talia sighs, taking a sip of her drink before speaking.

"I know you, so I don't doubt it. It's just so dangerous, Brandon. You can't expect me not to be worried about you."

Brandon laughs lightly, trying to lift the mood slightly.

"I would never expect you not to worry. It's not in your nature."

A small smile tugs at the corners of Talia's lips, and it's enough to ease his mind.

"Anything you want to know about the ring, the business, any of it, I'll answer as best as I can. I trust you more than anyone and I want to do everything I can to make you feel okay with this, and make up for holding it from you."

Talia hazards a look to her brother, seeing on his face that he's been open and honest with her.

"You know I always ask too many questions." She smiles, joking lightly as she referenced something she would hear almost daily from her mother growing up.

Brandon shakes his head as he laughs, taking a sip of his own drink.

"If you get too much for me, I'll just pass you on to Ashton. It's what normally happens around here." He shrugs slightly, before tilting his head.

"Actually, do you want to meet him? He should be around out there." He asks, and Talia mulls the idea over for a moment before agreeing. After all, it would probably be best to know who she would castrate if something happened to Brandon.

"Sure, might as well." She agrees, downing the last of her drink and tossing her cup into the small recycling bin under his desk.

Standing up and following Brandon out of his office, Talia can feel her nerves already starting to act up, and does her best to shove them down as she follows him towards the bench press where the black haired man who she now assumed was Ashton, and Calum stood.

"Hey, guys. I got someone for you to meet." Brandon says, catching their attention as they approach.

Ashton sends her a warm smile as she steps out from behind Brandon, which is a nice contrast from the cold glare Calum sends her way, which she ignores to return the smile instead.

"Ashton, Calum, this is my sister, Talia. Talia, this is the demon on my shoulder Ash, and my blue rock em sock em man Calum."

"We've met." Calum says bluntly, while Ashton raises his eyebrow.

"And we haven't. Nice to meet you, I assure you Brandon's told us nothing but good things." Ashton grins, holding his hand out for her to shake.

Talia takes his hand and can't help but notice how strong his grip is without what looks like any effort, and laughs lightly.

"I'd hope so, but I can't promise my staff have heard the same about him. It's nice to meet you too." She returns, letting her hand drop to her side before she acknowledges the man beside him.

"And yeah, charmed." Talia prods lightly, seeing Calum trying to hide the roll of his eyes from Brandon.

"Talia is gonna be spending more time around, getting to know the workings when she can. I said if she annoys me too much I'm gonna pass her on to you, so fair warning." Brandon informs them, tapping Ashton's arm as he directs his sentence to him.

"Fantastic." Talia hears Calum mutter, not loud enough for the other two to hear it, but just enough that she does.

This time, it's Talia that rolls her eyes at Calum.

As conversation is made, Calum can't help but feel hyper aware of Talia, and the sun shining in from the high windows casting sunbeams through the few red hairs that fell out of her bun and framed her face delicately. He would admit that Talia was pretty, beautiful even, but not audibly, especially not in front of the girl who felt no hesitation in sending him a death glare every few minutes.

The small group spend ten or so minutes talking with each other before Talia's phone rings, letting her know she should start making her way to the studio.

"Looks like I should be getting to work." Talia says, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?" Ashton inquiries, genuine interest in his tone, making her see why Brandon was such a fan of him.

Talia believed she could read people well, and from her first impression of Ashton, she got nothing but good vibes.

"I'm a photographer, I own my own studio called Valentine." She smiles proudly, and Ashton nods his head in approval.

"My girlfriend works just down the road from you I think! It's not far from Dominion Books, right?"

Pleasant surprise spreads across Talia's face as she nods, happy to have found a common link.

"Yeah! I think I might have seen you there in passing now I think about it." She smiles.

Brandon watches on with joy as he sees both Talia and Ashton getting along, so happy about it in fact that he didn't even notice Calum looking like he would rather be anywhere else in the world.

Talia says her goodbyes to the men before turning to leave, her attention being called back before she makes it too far.

"If you ever need a fill in hunk for a photo shoot, you know who to call." Ashton jokes, sending a wink in her direction.

"Yeah, you can get your brother to pass you my number any time." Calum says sarcastically, surprising her but also making her scoff as she takes a few steps backwards before turning around.

"In your dreams, darlin'." She calls over her shoulder.

As the door swings shut behind her, Calum feels like his feet are glued to the floor, the eyes of his best friend burning into him as Brandon excuses himself to mock throw up against the wall.

"What's that all about between you two?" Ashton asks Calum quietly, picking up his water bottle as Calum picks up his own, holding it up and speaking casually before taking a sip.

"No idea what you're talking about mate."

TAGLIST |  @spicycal​​ @calmlftv​​ @irwinkitten​​  @mrandleer​​ @candidcal​​  @lukeskisses​​  @wallflowercal​​  @brooklynsninenine​​ ​ @whereveryouares​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer blurb #5sos #5sos fanfic

[lux-astrorum]

If you want to, you should post a rant about your experiences in Korea, I'm curious

ok to be honest I do love Seoul so much, but I’ve just been really emotionally tired lately. even though I’ve lived here for 15 months now it feels kind of like I’ve gone full-circle in the last year and I’m experiencing culture shock all over again in some ways? except this time instead of encountering these things for the first time, now it’s more like I’m just tired of dealing with them and it’s just getting under my skin. I’m sick of being the only foreign teacher AND the youngest teacher at my school in a very age-centric society, which means that I’m just expected to go along with everything all the time even though I’m always out of the loop and nothing ever gets explained to me, and I get treated like an incompetent baby all the time -OR- people expect me to understand absolutely everything and know about everything even when there’s no reason I should. I’m tired of fighting against a language barrier with every single person around me every single day and people assuming that I’m either perfectly fluent in Korean or that I can’t understand a single word. I’m disgusted by men who sit in the pink seats on the subway reserved for pregnant women. I’m disgusted by plastic surgery ads EVERYWHERE that make women (and men) look like anime dolls. I’m tired of having to make small talk with people who “just want to practice their English, can I have your phone number???”, people who don’t actually care about me as a person they just saw a foreigner and were like “It’s free English!” I’m tired of crowded subways and everyone pushing and shoving without apologies everywhere I walk and not having personal space. I’m sick of old ladies staring at me and leaning over and covering their mouths to whisper something to their husbands or friends when they see me (or worse, just saying it outright and assuming I won’t know). I’m tired of aggressive salespeople trained to be pushy with foreigners and tourists. I’m tired of the endless rallies and boycotts and scandals and anger and complaining. I’m sick of breathing carcinogenic air that’s thick with dust and chemical pollution. My heart is broken from having to watch old people squatted on the sidewalk or subway station selling trinkets trying to survive (Korea’s rate of elderly poverty is extremely bad), from watching career men and women on their commutes look frazzled and hurried and exhausted in this work- and business-driven burnout culture, from watching women and girls plaster their faces with foundation that’s noticeably several shades too light, from hearing my perfectly healthy-looking coworkers talk about how they can’t eat a full meal at lunch because they have to diet, and from having to hear my students as young as 8 years old tell me every single day that they’re tired and sleepy, and from knowing that my sixth grade students are already worried about taking their college entrance exam in high school, and from watching students with developmental delays or mental disabilities be expected by the teachers to sit in silence alone and not participate in the class in any way, and from hearing a fifth grade girl tell me “You’re so lucky to be American; Americans have such free minds and really believe they can do or become anything, but people here don’t think that way.” ...And lately I’m also cold and grumpy all day because for some reason the school buildings in a first-world country aren’t centrally heated. 

but in spite of all that, I do love Korea more than I can say and I’m so glad that I came and that I decided to stay an extra year. I’ve had such a great time in the last 15 months, discovered so much about myself, learned a ton, became a lot healthier physically, seen so many K-pop concerts and Korean hip-hop acts perform in person, and I wouldn’t take it back in a million years or trade it for anything. tbh lately I just really miss the USA a lot, because it’s where I was born and where I grew up and where my whole family was born & grew up, and so it’s my home in a way that Korea or anywhere else never can be. obviously the US is fucked up in all its own ways, some ways similar to here and some different, but if there’s anything I’ve learned from living here it’s that no country is some perfect, ideal dreamworld society, every country is facing their own problems and socio-cultural issues. I also feel like I was pretty open-minded and sympathetic towards immigrants and foreigners in the states before but BOY OH BOY, mad props to anyone who packs up their whole life and takes it somewhere else because that shit is HARD and in ways that no one else except other people who have done the same thing can understand. and I’m even moving BACK home after 2 years away, like I can’t imagine permanently relocating to the other side of the world tbh. 

tl;dr - 

사랑과 미움이 같은 말이면 I love you, Seoul

사랑과 미움이 같은 말이면 I hate you, Seoul

#i know this sounds pent-up and bitter but i'm just tired and homesick so that's all it is really #plus with it being on the verge of The Holidays™ in the US it really amplifies the homesickness