#my FC is bun-heavy

[faerytale-wings]

WELP, forgot to post this when the patch actually came out but heres my addition to the Newfound Adventure posts. 

I had fun picking out the classes I’ve played most and having photoshoots to get glam references for each. 

(bonus cameos by a few members of my FC)

Subtle but important alternate version.

#ff14 #ffxiv #newfound adventure #final fantasy #fanart #digital art #my FC is bun-heavy #pretty sure they all are right now #WOL #my WOL #I traded out Midgardsomner for the black chocobo cause I have an unreasonable attachment to it #but in my defense HAURCHEFANT gave him to me T-T

[bulletballet-arch]

REALLY LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY. RULES. repost ,   don’t  reblog !    tag 10 ! good  luck ! TAGGED. I took this from Minnie’s archived Bioshock blog. I’ve been looking for this meme all this month. TAGGING. @hammurabicomplex. @bluuxriising. @ Me - for Sal on @bulletsoverbensonhurst​. @immaterialed (charlie) @soypeor (bella) @svmmercmance​. @mrflayed. and you!

BASICS. FULL  NAME :  Eve Delores Littlejohn NICKNAME : Evie, Little Evie (by her maternal side of the family), Delores, Didi NAME  MEANING / S  Eve is from the ancient Hebrew name  חַוָּה (Chawwah), which was derived from the Hebrew word חָוָה (chawah) meaning "to breathe" or the related word חָיָה (chayah) meaning "to live". Delores is a variant of Dolores, meaning "sorrows", taken from the Spanish title of the Virgin Mary María de los Dolores, meaning "Mary of Sorrows." Littlejohn is a surname that has historically been found in England and Scotland. With potential origins being either ‘to distinguish a beloved child that was not the eldest.’ Or, ‘a contradictory nickname for a large man.’ HISTORICAL  CONNECTION? : She’s named after her grandmother, Evelyn Hollins.

AGE : 42 BIRTHDAY :  June 2 ETHNIC  GROUP : Black-American. Meaning she’s mixed with a lot (Some of her relatives are respectively Creole and Italian) but uses Black as a catch-all term. NATIONALITY :  American LANGUAGE / S : English, Italian, Spanish, Latin, some French SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :   Bisexual ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :  Biromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS : Verse dependent, usually married -or connected- to Salvatore Scozzari in some way. CLASS : Upper-Class HOME  TOWN / AREA :   Brooklyn. Spent time between Bedford-Stuyvesant - with her paternal grandfather and Park Slope - with her maternal grandparents.  CURRENT  HOME : In her childhood home in Bedford-Stuyvesant. PROFESSION : Ballet Instructor. Former Professional Ballerina. ( Other verses see her as a professional thief. )

PHYSICAL. HAIR : Black. In terms of her natural hair, Eve has springy, 3C hair she seldom shows off because she was raised in a family where straightened hair was deemed presentable and professional.  EYES : Thin almond eyes. Dark brown. NOSE : Straight and small. FACE :  She has a prominent, high forehead, that’s accented with high cheekbones and a pointy chin. LIPS :  Full. COMPLEXION : She has a light brown (tawny) complexion.  SCARS : None major. TATTOOS : None. HEIGHT : 5′4″ BUILD : Eve has a slender build. One of those people who have been small and petite since childhood. Despite this, she also stays skinny because she is obsessively conscious of the food she consumes. The older she gets the more she weighs, however. USUAL HAIR STYLE :  Her hair is cut short. Reaching her shoulders in a neat, even bob. She either curls it in a retro fashion or curls the tips. For work she wears it in a traditional, pinned bun. USUAL FACE LOOK : In public, she appears stoic for the most part. Any emotion shown (such as the length of a smile) is carefully calculated. She has to seem perfect.  USUAL  CLOTHING : Form fitting dresses. Incredibly chic and fashionable for the time. Shoes include heels - never open-toed, unless she has on stockings. Extravagant earrings. Jewelry that can include either necklaces, crosses, pearls, or dainty rings. Prone to wearing black sunglasses in public.

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Thunderstorms, airplanes, creatures like weasels, snakes and ferrets, break-ins, men she doesn’t know, harm coming to her children ASPIRATION / S :  Formerly wanted to become a major [black] ballerina in the elite world of ballet, now she just wants to expose more [inner city children] to dance through her job. Personally, she wants her children to change the world in some form or fashion, too. Eve also has good ideas on improving the community, but at the moment has no idea how to go about these ideas. POSITIVE  TRAITS :  Generous, compassionate, patient, protective NEGATIVE  TRAITS : Strict, sullen, hard to read, represses her emotions, secretive MBTI :  Advocate - INFJ-T ZODIAC :  Cancer TEMPERAMENT :  Melancholic ANIMALS :  Lioness VICE / S :  Pride & Lust FAITH : Christian. Grew up Baptist, but Catholic influences have been around her since childhood. Attended a Catholic High School in Park Slope, her grandmother Evelyn was also a practicing Catholic.  GHOSTS ? : Yes and no. She feels that objects formerly owned by the deceased posses the essence of their previous owners and that they essentially live on through these pieces of property. AFTERLIFE ? : Yes. REINCARNATION ? :  No, but it’s a romantic concept. ALIENS ? : No. POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :  Democratic ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE :  She likes being where she’s at now. But honestly, being upper class is all she’s ever known. SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : Bourgeoisie, basically. The Littlejohn’s represent The Historical Black Elite.  EDUCATION  LEVEL : College level. FAMILY.

FATHER :  William ‘Bill’ Littlejohn MOTHER : Linda Littlejohn ( nee Hollins ) SIBLINGS : None EXTENDED  FAMILY : Amos Littlejohn (paternal grandfather) Liza Littlejohn (paternal grandmother) Evelyn Hollins (maternal grandmother) Giuseppe D’Aietti (maternal grandfather) and a wide host of cousins, aunts and uncles.

FAVOURITES. BOOK :  Night Song by Beverly Jenkins. The Color Purple by Alice Walker. Some sort of old, French erotic novel that was published before she was born. MOVIE : Eve watches films along the lines of...Waiting to Exhale, Beaches, The First Wives Club and Fatal Attraction. She loves Made-For-TV movies from the time period. In regards to plays, her favorite one is Sunday In The Park With George. 5  SONGS :  Meet Me On The Moon / Essence of Sapphire / No One In The World / People / The First Time I Saw Your Face  DEITY :  Persephone  HOLIDAY : New Years Eve, Christmas, Thanksgiving. Major holidays during the colder season. MONTH :  October SEASON :  Autumn PLACE :  The dance studio she works at. WEATHER : Sunny, but cool. SOUND : The voices of Anita Baker and Sarah Vaughn. A skilled hand running over piano keys. Soft trumpets. Running water. Cats making chipper little meows. SCENT / S :  Perfume, floral scented lotions, her partner’s cologne TASTE / S :  Caramel, the tang of dark chocolate, strawberries coated with either chocolate, or sprinkles of white sugar. Light Vinegar.  FEEL / S : Performing in front of an audience. Hot water engulfing your skin after a long day. Satin - whether it be the fabric of her clothes or sheets, your fingers tightly intertwined with another’s, feeling your significant other’s chest raise and lower against your skin with each breath they take. ANIMAL / S : Cocker Spaniels, Afghan Hounds, Cats, Birds - she loves all ( well, a majority ) of animals. NUMBER :  Doesn’t have one. COLOR :  White, Pink, Gold.

EXTRA. TALENTS :  Dance, Eve is trained in ballet when it comes to her main verse. She has attended ballet classes since the age of eight and ever since then she placed all of her focus into it. Similarly, Eve has always had the makings of a good artist - as a child she enjoyed drawing and had informal art lessons with a man who lived in the basement of her grandfather’s brownstone, but she never invested into that half of her. BAD AT : Singing, Being interviewed, Public Speaking (as in Speech Giving), Decision Making TURN  ONS :  Charisma, Leadership Skills, Temperature Play, Phone Sex, Heavy Kissing, Light Roleplay TURN  OFFS :  Public Sex, Tearing [ Her ] Clothes, Threesomes, Cruelty, Senseless Violence HOBBIES :  viewing plays & some musicals, reading romance novels, shopping, working out (she was into the whole celebrity VHS tape exercise trend), playing tennis, decorating AESTHETIC :  Vintage Black Glamour, Black Ballerinas, Champagne and Wine Glasses, Paintings by Melinda Byers and Edward 'Clay' Wright QUOTES :  "I'm bad with words, I hope you're good in reading eyes." / "There are truths I haven't even told God. And not even myself. I am a secret under the lock of seven keys."

FC INFO. MAIN  FC / S : Lynn Whitfield ( A Thin Line Between Love & Hate ) ALT  FC / S : Kylie Bunbury ( Twisted ) OLDER  FC / S :  Lynn Whitfield ( Greenleaf ) YOUNGER  FC / S : N/A VOICE  CLAIM / S : Lynn Whitfield

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?       A1 : Recently I decided that if/when I try to write anything serious about Eve again, it’ll center on her being a jewel thief because it presents me more fun, and emotionally diverse, opportunities. That and I have a very specific cover image in my mind. Ideally, her adventures would be a series of books. I have no title in mind, no idea about how ‘it would be filmed’ ( although a style replicating 90s films would be excellent, film grain and all. ) but, I do have a bunch of plots in mind that I really don’t feel like typing out here.  

Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?         A2 :  Her score would have a vintage sound (or a jazzy Spike Lee sound, if you will) with instrumentals by Dorothy Ashby (a Jazz Harpist) the Ahmad Jamal Trio, Pharaoh Sanders, Yusef Lateef and Tarika Blue. For music with lyrics, the soundtrack would include the likes of Julie London, Sarah Vaughn, Ella Fitzgerald, and Dionne Warwick.

Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?   + Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ? A3 :  Whenever I make NPCs for my character’s lives I actually can’t just let them just be NPCs. I start thinking about them too much. Developing them too much. And then I’m like, ‘wow! I really like this character!’ Eve was a different character when I began writing her, and likely wouldn’t be considered the same character as she was previously, if I told someone in real life who knows about my writing (like my grandma) about all the changes she has undergone. Originally Delores was a university professor, because I thought it could lead to interesting interactions with college-age muses. And her previous history with the mafia was also something interesting to tap in. But then I started thinking about what was realistic, what wasn’t realistic, what did I feel comfortable/interested writing? What didn’t I feel comfortable/interested in writing?  So as time went on, things would alter about this character. And the new things I came up with attracted me more. 

Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.         A5 :  I have a love/hate relationship with Eve’s quiet demeanor. On one hand, I think quieter characters need love and the ability to be fully dimensional but on the other hand, writing louder characters has always been more fun for me. But really, Eve’s guarded behavior makes writing her stressful in some cases with others because sometimes...if I’m going to be honest...people don’t know how to carry a thread and interact with someone of her demeanor effectively. 

Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?       A6 : We’re both black, we’re both into art (although our exact interests and aesthetics with art differ)

Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?         A7 : Realistically she would think I need to take better care of myself.

Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions with ?   A8 :  We skippin’ this question.

Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?       A9 : Films such as, “Waiting to Exhale,” “The Kitchen” and “Widows.” Books by Alice Walker, like “The Third Life of Grange Copeland” as well as her short story, “Roselily.” The historical mob figure Stephanie St. Clair.

Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?       A10 : A few hours.

#long post #dash games. #headcanons.

[strrawberrymoon]

name  /  alias : leigh  gender  /  pronouns : female + she/her where  ya  from  ? : europe 👀 the  current  time :  18:53 height :  164 cm, i think that’s 5′4 job  or  major :  double major in sociology and media communications, still grinding pet  (  s  ) :  two dogs! one is a 7 year old maltese and the other a 3 year old cane corso favorite  thing  (  s  )  about  yourself :  im a great listener and i give great advice, i’m straighforward which some people don’t like but oh well, i’m pretty adaptable. i got some nice titties any  special  talents  ? :  i can roll my tounge in any direction + crack a lot of knuckles ajkdshaj

why  you  joined  hqclouds :  i’ve been itchng to write more lately, so when love told me about their group i thought i’d give it a shot !!

meaning  behind  url :  strawberry moon was just a recent occurance irl which was really cool + i associate marinette with strawberries for some reason, and i’m a big fan of the lady moon

last  thing  you  googled :  i’m having some issues with my michrophone and zoom so i googled how to fix it, but no dice

birthday  /  zodiac :  leo ! my birthday is august 11th in  your  opinion  ,  does  your  sign  suit  you  ? : yes and no. leo’s are very misunderstood imo, but each sign has the “more popular” or well known traits and then there’s the flipside of the coin—which i think suits me more myers  -  briggs :  ISFP / INFP moral  alignment :  chaotic idiot hogwarts  house : gryffindor

three  fictional  character  (  s  )  you  see  yourself  in  +  why :  i honestly see myself in katara from atla, the whole smothering mothering routine. it’s becoming a regular thing for my friends to say “thanks, mom” or “ok, mom” so i guess i’m the mom friend. also fred weasly... he’s a twin.. i’m a twin... that’s all i need. and lastly, and very leastly, neil josten from all for the game series. most of you probably don’t know it, but he’s a demisexual chaotic idiot who says “i’m fine” way too much for someone who is most definitely not fine.

i  started  roleplaying : probably when i was around 16-17 was my first official roleplay experience. it was on facebook and kind of a nightmare types  of  rps  i  enjoy :  i like college stuff and small town rps, but i also love plot heavy rps that push you into developing your muse. really anything that isn’t too restricting favorite  fcs  to  use :  i don’t have go-to faceclaims. i tend to make a character around a FC and then use them until i lose muse or just feel like they need to rest. switch it up a lot, but some faces that i’ve really enjoyed playing for a longer amount of time are steven kelly, cindy mello and ellen v. lora fandom  (  s  )  you’d  like  to  write  in : i want to write in all of the fandoms i know nothing about and look like a dumbass. also harry potter, the hunger games, avatar the last airbender, gossip girl, etc etc fandom  (  s  )  you  aren’t  in  but  are  curious  about :  marvel somewhat, any video games are very fascinating to me even though i’m not a gamer + know nothing about them, any distopian kind of fandom re: hunger games

share  a  funny  roleplay  horror  story :  recently an admin of a twitter rp tried to use my male muse for their weird ship narrative. they tried to make him look like an asshole (& i do play assholes but this one wasn’t one) + used another male muse to make it seem as if these two boys were fighting over the person’s girl, even though she actually had a ship all lined up. they were also running the gossip twitter, so they made up a bunch of stuff about our muses without our consent and consequently i told them to fuck off, and both of us left the group. then she had no more “groupies” so she cuffed and the group closed two days later. it was petty hilarious.

fondest  roleplay  memory :  once in an OC group, i wasn’t “technically” doing a ship with a friend, even though the characters had feelings for each other. but for some reason the status of their relationship was a hot topic group wide, meaning everybody had their nose in it and wanting to know what’s up, so they publically kept doing things to make people think they’re together while denying it in the same breath. it was really fun to let it play out like that.

favorite  canon  muse  (  s  )  to  play : roy mustang from fullmetal alchemist, katara from atla, and my baby marinette favorite  original  muse  (  s  )  to  play : the last original character i played and fell in love with was named alex. im obsessed with him. still doing 1 x 1 with his girlfriend. they’re having a baby, it’s all very emo and domestic. maybe i make him relapse for funsies. canon  ships  you  can’t  help  but  love :  lupin x tonks from harry potter, korra x asami from legend of korra, danerys x daario naharis from game of thrones, katniss x peeta from the hunger games, etc... trope  (  s  )  you  tend  to  be  guilty  of : i use the rich kid douchebag stereotype a lot. i also make a lot of my characters addicted to something to make them struggle with that.

i  prefer  .  .  . angst  ,  smut  ,  or  fluff :  bro... i am a sucker for ansgt and smut. i do fluff on special ocassions >:) long  or  short  replies :  i prefer when they start out shorter, but medium is my fave pre  plotting  or  chemistry : chemistry all the way. plotting can be really fun but it’s a miss more often than a hit for me. plotting can be good for pre-established relationships but that’s about it sentence  starters  or  headcanon  memes : sentence starters single  muse  or  multimuse  blogs :  i’ve never done a multimuse blog, and i’ve actually been super against them in the past, but i’m starting to change my mind hehe gif  icons  ,  medium  gifs  ,  or  static  icons : static (or none honestly)

grab  the  book  nearest  to  you  and  pull  a  quote  from  it :  ❝ You were children. was there no one to protect you? ❞ — ❝ Was there no one to protect you? ❞

what’s  a  quote  or  song  lyric  that  speaks  to  your  soul  ? :  ❝ I loved her, and sometimes, she loved me too ❞ 

top  current  celebrity  crushes :  zendaya, margot robbie always last  movie  you  watched :  365 days (2020) did  you  like  it  ? :  i hated it, what a waste of a perfectly good 2 hours  favorite  movie  (  s  )    of  all  time : harry potter franchise makes me nostalgic, perks of being a wallflower, my sister’s keeper favorite  tv  show  (  s  )  of  all  time : for some reason i’m obsessed with grey’s anatomy but i hate it favorite  tv  show  that  hasn’t  ended : well fricking grey’s anatomy favorite  series  of  books  /  novels  /  comics : the hunger games, harry potter sports  team  (  s  )  you  rep : my friend is into sports i rep her ksdsdj favorite  video  game  (  s  ) : the sims. i like playing animal crossing vicariously through switch owners favorite  youtube  channels : don’t usually keep up with yt channels but i just binged some stuff from psychology in seattle hobbies :  procrastinating

what  are  the  three  non  essential  things  you’d  bring  to  a  deserted  island  ? : sunglasses, hairtie, hand cream

put  your  music  on  shuffle.  what  six  songs  pop  up  ? : 

say goodbye by skillet, 

off the grid by alina baraz & khalid, 

bury a friend by billie eilish, 

break up with your girlfriend by ariana grande

get back by nine lashes

marry you by bruno mars (man)

personal  aesthetic : growing out my hair only to always wear it in a bun dream  vacation  ? : i just wanna go to the seaside with my friends dream  job  ? :  i literally can’t stand capitalism. wanna move to italy and collect berries and draw titties all day dream  car  ? :  something that drives itself if  i  could  live  anywhere  ,  it’d  be : somewhere in canada near the woods favorite  musical : mama mia? counts favorite  food  (  s  ) :  bananaaaaas, ice cream, cereal. these are all foods ok coffee  order : i don’t drink coffee unwatched  stuff  in  your  netflix  /  hulu  /  etc :  13 reasons why (i’m too bored), the flash, outer banks, elite, the half of it, intersteller, locke & key aaand some stuff that’s not mine but someone else using my account

what’s  a  subject  you  know  too  much  about  +  never  get  tired  of  talking  about  ? : idk anything about anything askldhl

#CLOUD:OOC #i am doing this now bc im avoiding studying #but it was fun hehehe #i still need to figure out a tagging system + write up an intro #which let us not kid ourseleves i'll probably end up doing by tonight #╰ ♡ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟 ↷ ooc.

[koreyvld]

adele vc: hello, mario vc: it’s’a me. kit. u know me, ur sick of me already. but here i am, with child #3 even tho he is older than me and all of u. i am the hag captain now. anyway pls find some shitty dot points under the cut for him bc i already wrote 2k words worth of bio here for him. if you also want i have a pinterest for him here. pls enjoy my chaotic neutral mess, korey. tw for death, illness, maybe some drugs idk under the cut. like this and i’ll come bother you

korey was born in the usa, moved to sweden, then backpacked all over europe, toured the world with his band, and finally landed in seoul

he does speak english as his main language, but is very fluent in swedish and korean

his main road rage language is swedish, though.

both of his parents have passed, his mom during childbirth and his dad in his twenties. he missed the funeral (not due to his own fault)

still has his half mom and his half brother, kinam (key fc)

was the vocalist of a metal band based in europe called CNVICTION. they sound like underoath’s latest album if u care 

his band broke up due to an.... altercation in germany which landed one of his band members in jail for a very very long time

and the rest of the band in jail for 90 days just bc there was no proof they were involved, but no proof they weren’t

he’s tried almost anything you can smoke/eat almost once tbh

actually hates idols and idol culture 

he started working for atlas as a trial to see if he could help with their first band/instrument based group. they actually found him to be pretty helpful/effective so they offered him the permanent position of manager

he still hates idol and idol culture but, he’s being paid to care so damn he’s gonna pretend he does.

deals with anything emotional/heavy with humor. like his brother having the same illness that killed their dad

covered in tattoos, basically the ones on his pinterest board. will cover them most of the time at work tho, reluctantly.

currently sporting almost shoulder length, long, dark hair usually in a low bun

pretty chaotic, kind of a mess, still trying to figure out what tf he’s doing. probably never even looked at a calendar or a schedule until this job so... good luck trying to organise 5 boys i guess

#vldintro

[bss-babygirl]

No One Hurts MY Princess

AJ Styles x reader

Warnings: Angst, and fluff because it fits this story perfectly

Request for: @wwesarahjaneroszko

Other tags: @1dluver13xx @jaywhitefan @0cielo0 @pleasantlyshamelesswizard @heyits-liz @meteora-fc @fireyegale @makakay @tjsflair @madamaholmes @hisredheadedgoddess28 @queenslayer1985

Tonight at Raw in Memphis you and Mickie had a match against none other than the Sassy Southern Belle Lacey Evans and The Queen Charlotte Flair. You were a little nervous, only because you didn’t want Baron Corbin or Samoa Joe to show up during your match; AJ who was approaching, could see the worry on your face. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” You welcome the embrace of his hug “I’m scared AJ, about my match tonight. I don’t want Joe or Corbin to get involved.” AJ rubbed your back “Don’t worry babygirl, if either thinks of showing their ugly heads anywhere near that ring. Me and Randy will take care of them.” You smile “Thanks Babe, you always know how to calm my nerves.”

—DURING THE MATCH—

At first everything was going to plan, until you find yourself getting End of Days by Corbin, and Mickie getting put in the Coquina Clutch. Allowing Charlotte to lock in the Figure 8 on you, forcing you to tap. You two thought that was the end, oh no. Baron and Joe along with Lacey and Charlotte attack you and Mickie until, AJ and Randy come running to your rescue, sending the quartet running. AJ runs to your side checking on you “Y/N, are you ok?” You were slow to get up, “Yeah AJ, I’m find. Just get me outta here.” AJ helps you to the back, and Randy helping Mickie.

—ONCE IN THE TRAINER’S ROOM—

The trainer evaluated you, luckily you just had minor bumps and bruises. Mickie was just shaken up from taking the heavy submission from Joe. AJ and Randy stayed in the Trainer’s room with you both, anger clearly on their faces.

—ONCE OUT OF THE TRAINER’S ROOM—

AJ looks at you “Why don’t we go pack up, and head to the hotel and cuddle?” You smile “I’d really like that.” With that you two packed up heading for the hotel.

—ONCE AT AJ’S ASSIGNED ROOM—

AJ told you to go lay down on the bed, while he made you a nice Epsom salt bath. AJ carried you bridal style to the bath, helping you out of your clothes; Gently laying you in the bath, he stayed in the bathroom keeping you company while you soaked. “AJ, you didn’t have to do all of this for me.” The water felt good on your very sore muscles. He looked at you “Yes I do babygirl, you are MY princess, you are MY world, you need this.” Once you felt relaxed enough, you wrapped up in a robe, putting your hair in a messy bun. Getting in bed, for a nice relaxing cuddle with AJ for the night.

#aj styles angst #aj styles x reader #aj styles fluff

[ghostofviperwrites]

Bath Time

Requested by: @earl-01

Pairing:   Hiromu Takahashi/FC

Category:   Smut

Word Count: 1557

Warnings: Smut, language

68.          “Don’t worry.  I’ll be gentle.”

I had it all planned out as I walked into the private bathing area where my patient Hiromu Takahashi was soaking in the warm water of the hot tub.  If things didn’t go according to plan I could lose my job.  I was breaking every ethical code there was and would lose my medical license if this ever got out.  I had thought about these consequences and decided the reward was greater than the risk.  Since Hiromu had come back to Japan and been assigned to a room on my floor we had heavily flirted, so I was relatively confident he wasn’t going to argue with my seduction.  

Locking the door behind me I took a deep breath before moving around the room divider, stopping to admire the beauty of Hiromu.   Something about him drew people in and I was no exception.   His long hair was piled in a messy bun on top of his head which was leaning against the rim of the large tub.  The room smelled of Epsom salt and humidity was heavy in the air.   I could see the outline of his nude body beneath the water, the vision only serving to raise my already rampant arousal. 

“Good afternoon Hiromu,” I greeted him, my voice carrying a teasing lilt.   I could tell I had surprised him by the slight stiffening of his body but saw the lift to his cheek indicating he was smiling.   Given his neck injury he couldn’t turn to face me but he had recognized my voice.  I didn’t normally handle his bathing duties, we had medical students for that, but today I had taken advantage of a shortage of staff and had volunteered my services. 

“What is my favorite nurse doing here?”  Hiromu asked curiously.  “I thought you were too much of a big shot to waste your time bathing little old me.”  

“I bet you say that to all the ladies,”  I teased coming up to the side of the tub and sitting on it, my legs crossing and drawing Hiromu’s eyes as the skirt of my uniform rode up a bit on my thighs.   “We’re a little shorthanded today so I volunteered to help you with your bath.”  

I leaned towards him by breasts straining against the buttons on my blouse and catching Hiromu’s attention.  

“Are you able to lean forward Hiromu so I can properly wash your back?”  I asked.   I knew he could.  There was no way I would risk his health if I wasn’t positive of his physical condition.   I was well-versed on his physical therapy routine and knew he would be more than capable of handling some bath time fun.  

I stood up acutely aware of Hiromu’s eyes following my every move as he slowly pushed himself into a seated position.   Locking my eyes on his I slowly reached for the buttons on my blouse grinning as he couldn’t keep the surprise that quickly morphed into eagerness from showing on his face.   I stripped completely running my hands over my body, Hiromu’s eyes following their path with hunger. 

Leaving his line of sight I came up behind him to the tub, sliding my calves along his body as I settled myself on the rim, my knees resting on either side of his shoulders.   His hands moved to my legs, the water sloshing as he tried to turn himself only to be stopped with my firm hands on his shoulders. 

“Uh, uh, uh.”  I told him with nibble on his ear.  “Behave.  I’m in charge today.  You be a good boy and hold still. Don’t worry.  I’ll be gentle.”  

Hiromu groaned and let his hands fall to his sides, relaxing into my touch as I massaged his shoulders, rubbing my hands over the tense muscle and down over his chest.  I grabbed the washcloth beside me and wet it, running it over Hiromu’s neck and shoulders with a soft touch, taking care with his injury.  I lathered up the cloth with soap and ran it over Hiromu’s arms and down his back, dipping under the water to run my hands around his hips and stomach.  The head of his hard cock brushed over my knuckles making Hiromu moan needily. 

“Not yet greedy boy,” I teased bringing my hands up over his chest and rubbing soap over his body.   I was enjoying having him at my mercy.   The sounds he was making were music to my ears, the whimpers turning me on to no end.  I slid down into the tub, positioning my body behind Hiromu’s and pulling him back flush with my chest.  I kissed his neck and shoulders and continued my exploration of every part of him I could reach, except the one he wanted me so desperately to touch.  My fingers danced teasingly around the base of his cock and inner thighs, brushing against his throbbing erection and making Hiromu plead for me to touch him. 

“Like this?”  I asked my fingers circling around the base of his cock.

“Yes!” Hiromu hissed his hips bucking into my hand as I held him tightly. 

Slowly I began moving my hand along his length, squeezing and twisting as I stroked his cock, Hiromu’s head leaning back on my shoulder allowing me to watch his face.  He was a picture of beauty with is lips parted, eyes closed and face scrunched up in pleasure.  

I continued stroking him, my free hand roaming over his body, caressing his skin as my lips sucked at his throat.   The guttural sounds he made were such a turn on, deep and throaty as he enjoyed my ministrations.  

My hand moved over his tip squeezing the bulbous head in my fist as I twisted it pulling groans from Hiromu, his hands dropping to my thighs and clenching on them tightly.  

“I’m gonna move now Hiromu,” I whispered in his ear several moments later.  “I want to come around your front and put your cock inside me. Do you want your cock in me?” 

“Please,” He moaned as I slowed my strokes, his hands loosening on my legs to allow me to slide out around him.   I kneeled over his body, knees on either side of his hips and reached between my legs to grab his cock, lining it up with my pussy and sliding down onto it humming with satisfaction as he filled me.  

I looked into Hiromu’s face to find his intense eyes focused on me, his lip between his teeth as his hands came to my hips.

“I want to fuck you so hard all the water in this tub sends up on the floor,” He growled rocking his hips in emphasis.

“You can’t Hiromu.”  I gently reminded him.  “We can only do this is you let me do all the work.  You’re not quite ready for anything that strenuous.”  

Hiromu pouted, his shoulders deflating and he cast his sad eyes at me. 

“No.” I said firmly leaning forward to kiss his pout.  “I’m not falling for those puppy dog eyes.  Put ‘em away and let me take charge.”  

He nodded reluctantly, releasing my hips to lean back against the tub and spreading his arms along the rim.   With his compliance I slowly started moving on him, gliding my hips back and forth in a gentle pace that wasn’t going to rock his body too much.  

The water sloshed around our bodies as I moved on Hiromu’s cock, his eyes watching my every move as he kept still as directed, licking his lips as I brought my fingers down to my pussy and rubbed my clit, my breath starting to pant as my pleasure mounted.  

“Are you going to cum for me?”  Hiromu asked his voice strained as I clamped around him, my thighs pushing against his hips as I ground my pussy down on his cock. 

“Yes,” I gasped my fingers picking up speed while I rolled my hips on his dick. 

“I’m about to cum.  Cum with me.”  He directed, his hands leaving the rim of the tub to grab onto my hips, aiding my movements as they stuttered while I cried out my orgasm crashing over me when Hiromu’s cock exploded inside me, warming me with his seed.  

With a smile Hiromu reached up and pulled me to his lips by the back of the head.  

“Soon I’m going to be stronger and I’m going to fuck you like you need to be fucked.” He promised biting my bottom lip with a quick nip that had me gasping and staring at him with wide eyes.   “Until then I’ll let you play your little games, but just keep in mind what you have coming to you.”  

With another hard kiss he pushed me back, smirking as I climbed off him with shaky legs.   Drying off I slipped back into my uniform before assisting Hiromu from the tub and getting him dressed.  Once he was seated back in the wheelchair I pushed him through the hallways back to his room. 

“Thank you for taking such good care of me.”  Hiromu said with a naughty grin as I delivered him to his room and got him settled.

“You’re very welcome Mr. Takahashi.”  I said with a wink.  “Have a good day.” 

#hiromu takahashi imagine #hiromu takahashi fanfic #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #mywriting #ghostofviperwrites

[bunbaodoesdoodles]

A lil intro for @naturalmagicrp

OOC Name:

Cannoli/Cannoo/Canono/Canononono/Canolo Any misspelled version of Cannoli I’ll know it’s me don’t worry

Or Bun (my main blog is Bun-Bao)

Timezone: ETA

Top 3 Faces:

This is hard bc I usually doodle my ocs so FCs never really match?? But Selena Gomez, Natalia Dyer and Garrett Neff would be close???

Plots I live for:

ALL OF THEM BABEY except for heavy angst. I love it but I’m not great at it that and I cry easily One big ol cry baby over here.

What I hope to see on Natural Magic:

SOME MAGIC, and just some fun tbh. I haven’t rp-ed in a hot minute so this’ll be fun.

Why Natural Magic caught my attention:

Love me the Harry Potter universe but it’s getting kinda boring. That and I love me some coastal towns. I also have a strong love for Modern Fantasy themes

My Patronus:

#nmrp #rp #ill doodle up the new kiddo when i have a chance

[soo-sex]

190311 Soohyun Fancafe Chat (Part 3)

[English translation by junhaera_]

Soohyun: gap-bun-tti  KM: what does that mean?  Soohyun: suddenly the atmosphere becomes quiet (after saying a joke)  KM: our oppa is in the new generation  SH: at the camp  - the kids  - they are 98, 97, 99 liners  - since they are young  - im learning new generation language

KM: so young  - dont learn weird things  - ajusshi  SH: kkkk  - not too long ago  - a 99 liner came as a junior  - wow, 10 year age gap with me  - in our troop, im the 3rd oldest person  KM: kkkkk  - it's a relief you havent seen a 00 liner kk  - it's a relief youre not the oldest

KM: right, you're already out of the army before you see a 00 liner  SH: 00 liner?  - 00?  - is there a 00 liner?  - kkkkk  KM: youre already gone before you see a 00 line in the army  SH: when a 00 line comes kk

SH: ah right  - since im doing well in the army  - executives wants me to apply for professional sergeant (position)  KM: u cant  SH: u know I've got a special forces certificate again, right?  - i mentioned it before  - can i talk bout that too? kk  - i have to keep the camp's security

SH: i gained leg muscles  - not a weakling now  - we do a lot of marching ㅠ  KM: how about abs? chocolate abs  SH: of course, there's abs  - but i wont show it  KM: why?  SH: im not gonna show it easily  KM: if i show it easily  - will make a habit out of it  - kissmes

KM: eng  - fail  SH: kkkk  - what fail  - damn kkkk  KM: SHOW IT, SHOW IT, SHOW IT kkkkk  - say damn what kkk  SH: why  KM: what is Soohyun's rank  SH: can i talk about it?  - i think you dont like stories about the army  KM: say it..  SH: kkk  - ill be a sergeant in April  KM: oooh~  - wow

SH: but my discharge date  - it hasn't changed  - anyway, in the army  - it's manageable  - once you go,  - go like a man for once  and i think it's worth the try  - easy easy - the marines  - ㅠㅠㅠㅠ  - Hoonie ㅜㅜ  KM: im curious about Hoon's hairstyle.. curious

SH: when im at the camp again  - ill give advise to the kids  - how much they did well  KM: cool  - life sunbae  - i envy them  - living witness

SH: ah right  - what was that  - ill tell something interesting kkk  - Junnie  - receive the rookie award right?  KM: yes  SH: there at MBC  - just when he was receiving the award  - that time was our cleaning time kkk

SH: my junior said - hyung, your group member - he's so cool receiving an award - but you hyung - just do your best cleaning - with the mop KM: that was mean SH: ah i thought it was funny - kkkk KM: kkkk ah that punk junior kkk - how hard did you clean it kkk

SH: no, I didn't mean anything bad - he's a nice kid - mom is excited - she'll drink beer - kkkk KM: so funny kkk - i want beer too SH: i really clean up hard kkk - even seniors are looking at me - because im cleaning too hard

KM: why are you trying so hard kkk SH: no? - the higher my rank goes - the more i should work hard KM: should we send more cleaning supplies to the military camp? SH: the cleaning supplies are good enough, it's okay

KM: how's the food? SH: the food - it's very delicious - really - at the boot camp KM: i want to try it SH: it's really delicious when i first get to eat it - i gained 7 kilos 

KM: what's the most delicious food? SH: the most delicious one - stir fried vienna sausage - the best

SH: i have to work out & lose weight now KM: was there such a day where there are leftovers? SH: no such day - there's a futsal field too - really, there's nothing more i can ask for with futsal & football kkk - but there are over 60 people (in the chat) - less than 10 are talking

KM: it's lagging, slow. is it only me SH: not lagging for me KM: are u using a computer oppa? SH: yup, im on a computer kkkk - who wants to do a 1:1 chat with me KM: it's your bday, are u not going out somewhere? SH: it's my bday but where do i go? - gotta spend it w/ my family

SH: actually yesterday was really..kkkk - ey - chatting with kissmes (abt it) - wow - I'll tell you what - i'll leave it to your imagination KM: what is it - you didnt walk on four legs, did you? SH: no, i usually set my target KM: looks like you drink well

KM: oppa how many bottles can you drink SH: 3 bottles of soju - i cant drink that much - Hoonie is really - a heavy drinker - Hoonie can drink 6 bottles KM: wow that's doubled SH: kkkk KM: did Jun drink a lot too? SH: Jun dont drink - because Jun is an idol, he dont drink

KM: but youre an idol too oppa SH: ey, im an artist - i have to protect Jun KM: Kiseop was not there? - do you become an artist when you go to the army? - could it be that jun is an al-sseu? SH: ah kiseop was with his family - he wasnt able to come SH: what is al-sseu? - al-sseu? KM: alcohol trash (cant drink alcohol, gets drunk easily) SH: ah~~ kkk - al-kko - alcohol kkomaengie (kid)

Soohyun: limak (a member on fc, one who said he became an artist when he went army hahaha) - who are you - you keep ignoring me ㅠㅠ KM: oppa you know in-ssa/ a-ssa, right? SH: yes i know in-ssa - ey limak: please dont shoot meㅠㅠ SH: kk kiki

by the way...  in-ssa > insider > popular friend/person  a-ssa > outsider > a friend/ someone who aint popular

KM: oppa what is ae-ppae-si Soohyun: if you remove aegyo, there's dead body (this can be used in positive way as someone who pretty much uses aegyo a lot or negatively as someone who doesn't have much outside of their aegyo) - yah, i know that much KM: i didnt know that

SH: give me questions KM: JMT SH: jon-mat-taeng (slang for very delicious) KM: JGT - man-ban-jal-bu SH: jgt? what's that KM: jol-gwi-taeng (slang for freaking cute) SH: man-ban-jal-bu? KM: nice to meet you, please take care of me (MANnaseo BANgawo JAL BUtakhae)

SH: give me just half of the dumplings - jal~~~ tu~~~ e~~ - bok-se-pyeon-sal? - strong abs, soft slice of boiled beef (not the real meaning of it, he made this one up) KM: kkk, no - what was that SH: ah it's hard kkk KM: let's live simply in this complex world SH: nice

SH: tmi - too much information (wrote it in hangul) KM: ooh~ - too much information (in english) SH: thank you~ - i cant write that in english KM: what's o-jal? SH: slice the cucumber finely (another made up meaning by him hahaha, right one: you did well today too) - o-jal

#ukiss #u-kiss #soohyun #HappySoohyunDay #fancafe chat #twitter.com/junhaera_/status/1105123891846930432 #English translation

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

Not My Type, Part Five (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

Summary: After catching Bucky in the gym, tensions are high and slowly rising as you watch him train on the punching bag. You get a little help from your friends and are begrudgingly pushed in the right direction. Then a masquerade party takes place for Wanda’s birthday and the two of you are at odds when others begin to flirt with you, leading to a series of heated moments. Author’s Note: Okay... But yeah, this one is a doozy and will leave you hot and bothered hehehehehe have fun. I kind of rambled on with this one, lots of words, but it’s super sweet and sappy and ugh. And thank you, @ugh-supersoldiers​ for the inspiration you’ve give me I love your writing sm, super freaking talented. UGH anyway enjoy! FC; Rachel McAdams @rosegoldhome

Song Choice: Can’t Help But Falling In Love (cover) by Twenty One Pilots 

Warnings: fluff, MAJOR fluff, angst, jealousy, PDA, the end leading into smut the next chapter ;)

PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK, I LOVE IT

You walk into the training room and set eyes on Bucky taking out his frustrations on a punching bag, doing perfectly timed and damaging hits and high-kicks. You watch him move gracefully and dangerously, stepping quietly into the room so he doesn’t hear you arrive while you continue to gaze openly at his flawless, fighting skills. His face is set in a tense, stone cold expression, clearly from something heavy weighing on him, but instead of open communication, he does this. Spending alone time in the gym with no one around at five in the morning, the sun barely being up in the empty room. His loud groans and noises waking you up, but you don’t mind, enjoying the view playing out in front of your eyes. And your eyes only. The white tank sticking to his chest from the sweat, beads of it dripping from his brow and down his temples, tan skin glistening, and hair pulled back in a bun, a few messy tendrils falling over his azure eyes. Bucky grunts hard when the bag swings back to him and he kicks it roughly in retaliation, causing it to fly off the punching bag and burst on the floor. He walks over to where his duffel bag lays and begins unwrapping the bandages around his knuckles, breathing heavily, not looking up but he’s smiling softly when he says, “Hey, doll.” You jump slightly, hands flying behind you to grip the doorway before you send him a shaky smile when he turns around to look at you. “Hi,” you breathe, suddenly aware of the sports bra and yoga pants you’re sporting and how his eyes are subtly washing over the work-out ensemble, before tearing his gaze away from you. There’s been tension between you two these last few weeks, with you confessing to him that you still love him after all these years and his emotional barriers keeping him from saying it back. Even when he wants to. It’s hard for them and you know that, he’ll do it in time. It’s to be expected with all that he went through, and it pains you whenever the horrid thoughts come to mind, what those people did to him. Because you’re the first girl he’s fallen in love with, and it’s painful, needing you with him at all times, heart slowly aching when you leave the room, stuck thinking about you and waiting for you to find him in the tower at all hours of the day, and missing your angelic smile when you’re not around. It’s you, you, you, in his head, all the time, and he can’t get you out as the old memories are being triggered, floating to his mind. So, needless to say, he’s very happy to see you in here right now with him, and he may or may not have made more noise than usual to wake you up. Of course you know that, though.  He risks another glance in your direction, “You training today?” he asks, faking nonchalance when his fists are still clenched while he puts back his things. You nod, cheeks red in embarrassment when you offer him a sweet smile. “Yeah, uh... someone woke me up,” you flit your eyes to him. “So, why not, right?” “That someone must have wanted to see you...” he says quietly, looking at you too, smirking. “I say that’s a pretty good plan in that respect, very sweet, actually.” “Oh, yeah,” you nod, laughing softly. “Waking me up and making me grumpy early in the morning is a great plan, darling,” you say, realizing you walked the length, nostalgic, southern twang from your youth seeping into your words, rolling your tongue on the last word.

He tenses at the pet name and a blush falls over his cheeks, tinging the tips of his ears uncovered by his hair and shown to you. You smile at this and look at the floor, cocking an eyebrow and looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

“I missed you calling me that,” he half-smirks and your heart skips a beat.

You capture your bottom lip between your teeth and he watches the action adoringly, “I missed being able to,” you say softly, finally letting Bucky peek into the pain you’ve gone through being without him. 

He looks at your eyes as they become glassy and he frowns, stepping towards you, “Please don’t cry, angel, not over me.”

You laugh weakly, wiping at your eyes like it never happened, “I’m not- I’m not going to cry, I spent too much time crying.” You shake your head, “I’m done with that.”

“Good,” he finally crosses the distance between you two and wipes the stray tear that’s fallen on your cheek, thumbing over your skin. “I don’t like seeing my girl upset.”

“Your girl?” you grin at that. “What makes you think you have me...” you say defiantly, tilting up your chin and brushing your lips over his, “Darling?”

He giggles adorably, blushing hard again, “Because you love me,” he smiles.

“Hm,” you smirk. “The jury’s still out on that one.”

“Then why are you blushing when I touch you, doll?” he whispers in your ear, making you gasp when he kisses your temple. “You’re a tease, I’ll give you that, but you’ve never been good at lying.”

“And you are?”

“Oh, yeah, you can’t survive in this world if you aren’t.”

“Well, I’ve made my way just fine.”

He quirks an eyebrow in disbelief, “Have you, though?”

You scoff and take his wrist in your hand, spinning him around and pinning it behind his back, dropping him to his knees on the mat.

He chuckles darkly, “Damn, doll, you’re stronger than I remember.” You let go of his hand and smile smugly at him, “And you’re weaker than I remem- Shit!” an arm’s wrapped around your waist and you’re being flipped over before you can finish your sentence, hitting the mat hard. You laugh breathlessly, having the wind knocked out of you from slamming your back against the floor, (y/h/c) spread around your head like a halo, how unfitting. “We always end up in this position, don’t we, Barnes?” you turn to look up at him, hovering over your body, positioned between your legs, and smile shining down on you, brighter than the sunlight flooding through the wall full of windows. “I’m afraid you’re becoming predictable, Sergeant,” you tilt your head, curling your lips intentionally and accidentally rolling your hips against his, creating an agonizing friction and making Bucky inhale sharply, holding himself tightly. “Interesting,” he leans down and brushes his lips, teasing the skin up your neck, and burying his nose in your hair, inhaling the familiar scent with a small smile that you mirror back to him. “You used my shampoo, doll?” You turn to him, bumping noses in the process and smiling delightfully when you bite your lip, feigning innocence and covering up the new rosiness in your cheeks, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about, James.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he smiles, kissing your neck. “I think it’s cute,” he tickles your neck with his lips and you throw your head back in laughter. 

“I’ll have to do it more often, then.”

He looks at you sincerely for a moment, searching all over you like he’s attempting to find the answer written on your skin, sheepish all of a sudden, speaking before you can ask what’s the matter.

He clears his throat and your lips are only breaths apart, “Doll... I-” “Hey! Nuh-uh, that’s my employee you have pinned beneath you, Sarge,” Tony steps into the room, motioning for him to get off of you. “There will be none of that in my training room.” Bucky sends you an apologetic smile before pushing himself off of you, and pulling you up with him, crashing into his brick-wall like chest, out of breath.  “What... what were you going to say?” you ask him under your breath so only he can hear. He shakes his head, “Nothing, doll. I’ll-uh,” he forces a smile to assure you but his eyes betray him. “I’ll get out of your way.”

You sigh, “Bucky?” you call after him as he gets his stuff and walks out of the room.

Tony looks sympathetically towards you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

You licks your lips thoughtfully, and shake your head, smiling gratefully at your friend, “No, you’re not. How long were you watching us, Stark?”

He rolls his eyes, “Too long,” he shivers theatrically, sending you a wink. “I just came in here to tell you about the masquerade party tonight for Wanda’s birthday-”

“Which was my idea,” Nat says with an annoyed expression when she walks into the room, gym bag string over her shoulder. Then she looks at you with a sweet smile, mood brightening when she sees you, “Hi, (y/n), someone’s up early?”

“And who’s paying for this idea of yours?” Tony glowers at Natasha and she only smirks, her response to almost anything, especially when you’re pretty and skilled enough to get away with everything.

“Just because you have the money, Stark, doesn’t mean you get all the credit,” she finally replies. “And you, (y/n), haven’t answered my question.”

“She got up for Grease Lightning, or in other words,” he says, folding his arms over his chest, Black Sabbath shirt and all, leaning against the doorway. “Her Bucky Boo Bear, her darling.”

You bury your face in your hands, “You heard that?”

“Oh, doll,” he taps his temple. “I hear everything.”

Nat squeezes your shoulder, “Come on, (y/n), don’t be embarrassed, Wanda and I’ve even got you a dress.”

“Yeah, good plan, get Heavy Metal even more sexually frustrated,” Tony rolls his eyes. “That poor guy hasn’t gotten laid since 1945.”

“But, really, (y/n), whatever you wear,” Nat looks at you seriously, softness in her tone. “Bucky will still be as madly in love with you as he was in the 1940′s, I know that much. And I didn’t even have to be there to tell you that now. I am a spy, after all, I pick up on a those kind of things.”

“And I know that look, sunshine,” Tony smiles, giving you his best heartfelt and supportive voice. “I’ve given that look. And I’ve received that look. You need to hold onto that and never let it go.”

Nat looks taken back when she smiles, “That was actually very sweet, Tony.”

“I expect gratitude and affection in exchange for my wisdom,” he says, holding his arms out and gesturing for you to come hug him. You roll your eyes and walk over, wrapping your arms around your dear friend.

Nat shakes her head, “You’re not getting any hug from me.”

You grab her hand and pull her in, Tony capturing her in the embrace and she sighs, sinking into it and patting your back reluctantly.

“What!” Clint appears in the hallway. “There’s a group hug in here and I wasn’t invited?” he jogs into the room, joining the hug and squeezing you into oblivion.

Steve peeks his head into the room, “Group hug? I heard group hug,” he grins, walking in and wrapping his arms around everyone, picking almost everyone off the floor. 

“SOMEONE SAY GROUP HUG!” Sam yells from down the hall.

Tony pushes everyone off and out the door, “Everyone scatter!”

~~~

The dress Wanda and Nat picked out for you is extravagant to say the least, off the shoulder, a baby blue color that brought out your (y/s/c), a cinched waist with a 40′s style flared waist, the floral train hitting the floor far behind you, long, ringlet curls down your shoulders, lips painted deep red, and eyes covered with a black, lace mask, adorned with gold and silver accents. If only you knew the eyes all are on you as you’re far too distracted searching for the man you want to see the most. 

Bucky had already caught sight of you on the other side of the room, a movie moment plain and simple, he knows it to be you immediately even with the mask. His eyes widen when he sees how beautiful you look, stunned and speechless, falling over your curves, swearing everyone else in the room has blurred away. He has to pinch himself to figure out if he is only dreaming, that he’s gone to heaven and among an angel. When he feels the sting in his flesh arm, he’s brutally aware of his staring when you finally find him. 

You meet his eyes over the swarms of people crowding the room, soft, orchestra music filling the entirety of the tower and easing everyone into finding a partner and dancing. You haven’t been dancing since the 40′s, because, in the words of your old, good friend, Peggy Carter...

You’ve simply not found the right partner yet. Or in your case you both have and are too afraid to ask. 

You bite back a smile, but it’s useless, you’re full blown grinning while he’s looking at you, words not finding either of you when you set eyes on each other.

He sports a raven blazer and slacks, fitting in all the right places you think, hair slicked back elegantly, pulled at the back of his head in a knot, deep blue mask bringing out his eyes, and you too, are at a loss for words. The outfit all pulled together... with a baby blue tie.

You turn around to see Tony, Nat, and Wanda raising their champagne flutes in your direction, clinking the glasses together and smiling to themselves, smug as all hell.

“Who told?” you mouthed to them, frowning.

“I might have let it slipped what color your dress was,” Wanda tells you over the music and chattering people, smirking over the rim of her glass, pink lipstick staining.  

“Make him work for it, (y/n),” Nat smiles.

“If you’ve got it, sunshine, flaunt it!” Tony says, too loudly.

Peppers saddles up at his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around her waist, “Meddling in other’s love lives again, I see. How’s that working out for you?”

“Rather well, actually,” he grins at her and presses a chaste kiss to her lips. “It’s what got me you, right?”

“I’d say it worked out nicely, then,” Pepper smiles and leans her head on his shoulder.

“Hey... um,” Bucky taps Steve on the shoulder, never taking his gaze off you as you grin at something Tony says. “Steve, I’m going to... I’m gonna g-go get a drink.”

Steve looks to where he’s looking and shares a knowing look with Sam who’s already smirking at your exchanging glances. “Alright, Buck, go get a drink.”

“Yeah because someone’s thirsty,” Sam says, taking a sip of his drink for good measure.

Bucky sends him a death glare before making his way over to you, visibly tensing when he sees all the men unable to take their eyes off of you in that dress. Already he has a love/hate relationship with it, and like he said, he knows it to be selfish and possessive, not telling you he loves you and yet he can’t fathom the thought of someone else’s hands on you besides his own.

He takes a glass of aged whiskey from the server’s plates and continues walking to you while you’re preoccupied with scoping out the party, still eyeing the people who are making crude movements in regards to you. 

Bucky’s grip tightens on his glass and it breaks within his grasp, shards hitting the floor and concerned, wiry looks are drawn to him. 

You search the party room as you idly swirl your straw around your cherry coke, finding women glancing in Bucky’s direction, whispering among their friends and giggling like little school girls with a crush, all that he doesn’t notice. You feel your blood boil beneath your blazing skin, attempting to hold it in until you see a man smile to his friend and cross the room to you.

Bucky shakes his head, his own insecurities rising to the surface and getting the best of him, as he storms out of the ballroom. 

You watch him leave and turn to Wanda, the reason you’re at the party in the first place, and she nods with a small smile. You return it graciously, hold up the ends of your dress and run out into the hall, heels clicking the tiled floor as you sprint in uncomfortable shoes to find the man you love. 

The back door leading to garden outside stays slightly open and you sigh a breath of relief, rushing out the open door and biting on your lip hesitantly, hoping he’ll even want to see you. 

“Bucky?” you say, voice low and quiet, shaking slightly. “Babe, I’m-”

Lips crash into yours and arms are wrapped around your waist hastily, kissing the life out of you. You meet a pair of familiar, azure eyes and yours flutter shut, you bring your hand up to run a hand through his hair, the familiar dark locks making your heart soar when you come in contact with them. Kissing you has become like breathing to him, so sweet, so familiar, and he needs it to survive, his heart will stop without it. His lips make up for the talking his mouth never does.

Your back hits the wall roughly behind you and he kisses you hard as you wrap your arms around his neck, greedily taking him in. Mine, mine, mine, you both think, pulling one another closer until there’s barely even room for air. Then you taste the saltiness of a tear into your kiss, breaking away to see his that his eyes are glassy.

“Bucky...” you whisper, cupping his face in your hand. “Bucky, baby, what’s wrong? Tell me.”

“I’m so sorry, doll,” he shakes his head and his voice breaks towards the end, holding your face in his hands as yours falls to your side. “I’m sorry that I’ll never be good enough for you. I’m sorry I haven’t had the guts to tell you how damn much I love you.”

“Bucky,” you breathe, bringing one of his hands to rest over your heart. “This is yours. My heart... only belongs to you. I love you. I’ve loved you for almost a century,” you laugh softly, bringing a smile to his lips. “I’m not going to stop, I love you for all that you are and all that you can be. No one else.”

His eyes are all over your face and his heart practically leaps out of his chest while his lips twitch in a small, tender smile, “Really?”

You nod, grinning, “Really.”

Bucky takes your face in his hands once again and presses his lips to yours, causing your knees to buckle out from beneath you and him to wrap an arm securely around your waist to steady you. The kiss is slow at first, kissing each other languidly and softly, holding each other close for fear of the other disappearing. But no, they’re both here, hearts thumping into one. 

His other arm runs down your side and hikes up your gown’s skirt, the kiss growing feverish and fast-paced, needy and wanton. He pulls you up and you straddle his hips with your legs, wrapping them around his lean waists, and your back hits the wall haphazardly once again, throwing all caution to the wind when he catches your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. He swallows your moans and tightens his grip on your bare thighs, half-moons delving into the flesh. He smiles against your lips and you tangle your fingers in his long hair.

“I love you so much, doll,” he whispers into the side of your neck and he continues to say in between kisses down your neck and over your ample chest, scattering his lips all over your open skin and whatever he can get to. 

He sucks hard on your neck, biting, nipping, lapping his tongue over the marks he’s making to soothe the spot, reveling in the noises leaving your swollen lips as he continues to slide his hands up your thighs, slowly reaching where you need him most. 

You lean your head against the wall and let out a breathy laugh followed by an adoring smile, “Your room or mine, James?”

He looks up at you and wears a big, goofy grin, peppering kisses all over your face and making you giggle, “Whichever’s closest, doll.”

#steve rogers and bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #1940s bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #smut #marvel #marvel fanfiction #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #avengers #tony stark #wanda maximoff #vision #sam wilson

[queenglimmr]

Dae-Ra and the Legions of Hordak

Rating: T | Chapter 1/8 | No Warnings Apply | cross posted on AO3

Concise Summary: Entrapta has built something no one could have anticipated, something even she doesn't fully comprehend; a sword of power. Unstable and desperate to find a wielder, the foul Sword of Destruction finds the hand of Yani, a lowly foot soldier who has spent her whole life trying to fly under the radar.

“How did you even… is that even possible?” Catra demanded, eyes locked onto the jet-black blade that glinted on the work bench before her.

“I have no idea!” Entrapta replied giddily, the beeping of her scanners already putting Catra on edge.

“You invented it,” she said bluntly, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, no,” Entrapta shook her head, her hair shifting a pile of tools away from the soft red glow of her latest creation. “It wasn’t so much invented as it was assembled. The plans were already there, tucked away in the data core, waiting to be found. And I did! I found them!”

“So, it’s old,” Catra muttered, mostly to herself. She glared down at the hunk of black crystal set into the cross guard, it’s jagged edges barely allowing for symmetry but oddly matching the strange geometric edges the Princess had built into the design.

“No, it’s brand new,” Entrapta gave her a confused look, probably wondering whether she needed to explain how time worked too.

“I mean it’s First One’s, the design? It’s like Ado… like She-Ra’s?”

“Oh, absolutely. I mean, the crystal is First One’s, and the metal is a complex alloy I melted down from their tech and the design and structure are all…”

Catra drowned out Entrapta’s babbling, her eyes locked onto the blade her pet genius had called the Sword of Destruction. This was the key. So what, Adora had a sword? Now she did to. She could beat her. She could finally be done with that stupid rebellion.

Catra reached out, ghosting her fingers along the ice-cold metal. The sword glinted and buzzed with power. She could feel it crackling in the air all around, something confined within trying to push out into the world.

“How do I activate it?”

“I… don’t know,” Entrapta deflated. “There’s not really an on switch.”

Catra gritted her teeth. Of course, that would have been too easy.

“Find one,” she ordered and spun on her heels, stopping at the door to stare down Lonnie and Rogelio.

“Not one gets in. No one but Entrapta touches the Sword until I come back.”.

Personnel Code: Y03197. Missive [Priority One]: Temporary Reassignment. Report to Unit Leader Lonnie (alt. Force Captain Scorpia), Black Garnet Unit.

This was the last thing Yani wanted. Nineteen years she’d served without special assignment. From her very first memories until that afternoon, she’d flown so silently under the radar she’d thought maybe she’d get away with it. Just serve quietly and die quietly. No fuss.

“Get going,” Force Captain Lionel jabbed his chin toward the door, prodding Yani out of her daze.

“Yes, sir,” she saluted clumsily and hurried for the door, heading straight out of Basement Level 4 Maintenance and toward the moon light above ground. Hopefully, she’d be back down here before too long.

Why had she, of everyone, been called up? She supposed it could be pure chance. The newly designated Black Garnet Unit, Commander Catra’s squad, had been down a member since their old Force Captain had defected, plus the whole Horde had been significantly thinned by the loss at the Battle of Bright Moon. Maybe Yani was just the next in a dismal line of underlings being called to step into the lost soldiers’ places. She hoped so. She really, really hoped so.

Whatever this was, she needed to make a good first impression. Where was her hair tie? On her wrist, of course it was. She pulled out her hair and drew it back again, making sure she caught every black strand as she tied it into a tight bun and smoothed her uniform, examining her reflection in the elevator walls.

When the lift doors drew back, Yani felt a wave of unease grip her. She’d never been in this part of the Fright Zone. It was quiet. Way too quiet.

“Soldier!”

She nearly jumped out of her skin as the sharp voice sent her stumbling from the elevator.

“You’re late.”

Yani pulled up a sloppy salute and stood stock still, trying to catch sight of the owner of the voice but too afraid to try.

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

“I’m not the captain,” the voice kept steady and an unfamiliar face stepped into view, dark skin, dreadlocks. “It’s Unit Leader Lonnie, and your new UL.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Yani saluted again, less clumsily.

“Stop apologising, Soldier!” UL Lonnie ordered, an intimidating scowl set firmly on her face. “Catra’s got us on round the clock supervision of the lock up. You’re here to stagger the guard rotation.”

“Would that be Commander Catra, sir?”

“Whatever,” Lonnie waved her away. “Just do your job and we’ll have no problems. You’re filling in the gaps. Nothing special.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nothing special. That sounded just perfect.

Okay, not so perfect. Guard duty was tear-inducingly boring. Plus, Kyle seemed adamant that if they spoke, Commander Catra would personally murder them both. Kyle, the skinny and pale boy she’d been assigned with. He wasn’t mean, per say. Just so plain and perpetually scared. And… wait… what was that noise?

Yani perked up, ears straining in the quiet of the corridor. Not in the corridor… inside the room beyond the door. Behind the door they were supposed to be guarding!

“Psst, Kyle!” she gave him a soft shove awake.

“What? I didn’t do it!” he jumped, spinning on the spot.

“Shhh… I think someone’s in there.”

“In… there?” Kyle’s eyes widened in panic, and Yani put a finger to her lips.

She really, really hoped not. She wanted to ignore it and hope it was nothing and maybe it would…

There it was again. Like a soft whispering, the words too quiet to discern.

If she didn’t check, and someone really was in there, stealing whatever needed a round-the-clock guard, and Lord Hordak found out…

“We need to check,” Yani murmured, pressing her ear to the door.

“Catra said we’re not allowed in there.”

“If there’s no one, then we don’t have to tell. But if it’s something…”

“I’m not… I don’t know if…” Kyle stuttered.

Yani paused for another long moment, holding her breath. It came seeping through the cracks in the metal, in an unfamiliar, dull tone.

“You can wait here,” she nodded to Kyle, prepping her stun rod and pulling out her ID, tapping it on the entry pad and letting the heavy metal doors draw back with an uncomfortably loud clattering.

The room beyond was sleek, with reflective walls and smooth floors, and in the dim light she could see something on a stand in the centre, glowing a stranger shade of deep red.

“Yani,” Kyle whispered nervously, but she ignored him.

There came the voice again. It slipped out of the dark and into her mind, whispering sophisticated gibberish.

She stepped inside, half crouching, weapon ready. Sure, she’d trained for this, and she’d seen active combat more than once. But there was a big difference between intentionally missing shots taken at Princesses and creeping into a dark room to confront an enemy you couldn’t see.

There was a voice though, she could hear it. She crept forward and found her feet carrying her toward the centre of the room, toward the glowing red light. Toward the voice that whispered…

“Come… to me… take up… the sword…”

She was standing over the altar-like stand, staring down at a sword of black metal that whispered invitations into her mind. Her thoughts were blurred, her eyes couldn’t turn away, and the desire to just touch the sword was suddenly overwhelming. She just had to reach up, to see why it spoke… she just had to…

Her hand hovered over the black gem that dominated the cross-guard, and as the tips of her fingers brushed the cold and jagged surface, the world melted away and the voice crashed into her mind.

“Dae! Ra!”

She stumbled back, but the room was gone. She was in a dark hall, with smooth metallic walls and a red light pulsing at the end of the way.

“Come back… to me…”

The world shifted, the light grew closer and the walls fell away and the deep voice, like a breeze in the stillness of the air, slithered into her ears and latched onto her darkest thoughts.

“Dae-Ra… I see… you… are mine… take up the sword… take up my sword…”

The voice echoed through the sweeping ceilings and shadows too deep.

“Take up my cause… Dae-Ra… the world in darkness… on your brow rests a crown…”

“Who are you?” she called out, voice horribly timid.

“I… am yours…”

“What have you done?”

Yani woke to a slash of pain across her cheek. She blinked away the tears and fatigue, looking up to find a snarling Commander Catra glaring up at her, stun rod in hand. Yani was standing near the… no, she wasn't standing. She was being held upright. Her own legs felt numb.

“Answer me!” The Commander screeched, yanking at her collar and pulling her closer.

“I… I heard a voice,” Yani stuttered, finding her own.

“Gee, Catra. Don’t you think that was a bit harsh?” The question came in a chipper voice from the person holding her upright.

“Not if she’s done something to the Sword it’s not.”

“The Sword seems fine,” the voice said again, and behind Catra, Yani saw Kyle breath a sigh of relief.

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“Yeah, but I mean. Come on. This kid is nobody. Entrapta said that Sword was the strongest thing she’s ever built. And she built Emily.”

Yani’s head was pounding, and her cheek was burning from where Catra had slashed it. She just wanted to be back in Basement Level 4 Maintenance with the gentle orders of FC Lionel.

“Please, I didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t care,” the Commander growled. “Tell me exactly what happened, and I might let you live.”

“I heard a voice,” Yani said hurriedly. “In here. In the room. And I knew we were guarding something important, and if someone was stealing it right from under our noses… so I opened the door to check and the voice… it was coming from the Sword.”

“The voice was coming from the Sword?” The Commander rolled her eyes skeptically.

“It told me to take the Sword, and I touched it…”

The Commander let out a soft growl, and Yani wasn’t sure if she believed anything she’d said.

“That’s all you’ve got?” She asked sarcastically.

“It said it… it was… mine. It said it had a cause I… I could see the world fall to darkness.”

Catra suddenly perked up and gave her another once over before she spun on Kyle. “Where’s Entrapta?”

“She's coming, Commander,”Kyle squeaked.

“Well bring her faster.”

“Yes, Commander,” he bobbed and scurried out of the room.

“And you,” Catra brandished a stun rod at Yani. “If you’re lying, you won’t live to regret it.”

‘I’m… I’m not, I promise.”

“You can promise all you want.”

“Well, to be fair, that’s perfectly plausible,” nodded the purple haired Princess.

“But why did it speak to her, and not someone else?” Catra demanded.

“I don’t know. If it’s like the Sword of She-Ra, maybe this nobody is like Adora.”

“Don’t say that name,” the Commander ordered through gritted teeth.

“Which one? Adora? Because that’s her name,” Entrapta asked, entirely serious and oblivious Catra's gritted teeth. “I’m probably going to need an alternative. How about, the Tall One?”

“Forget about that. Just tell me how it works.”

“I told you already. I don’t know.”

“Not helpful, Entrapta.”

“Yes, but it’s still the truth,” Entrapta pushed off from the sword’s altar and began spinning across the room as she tapped away at a screen. “The crystal is the key, but the code is way more complex than I was prepared for, and my algorithm is still working to decode it.”

“Well, work faster.”

“That’s… not really possible,” Entrapta shook her head sincerely.

“Fine, so this nobody is the key to the sword.”

“Ah, my name is Yani,” she gulped, trying to steady her thudding heart. She wasn’t the key to anything. She just wasn't.

"I don’t care,” the Commander didn’t even look at her, eyes still locked onto the black blade. “The first time I saw She-Ra’s sword work, she was under attack. So maybe…” Catra turned on Yani and extended her stun rod with a grinned, “it’ll work the same here.”

“Catra, I don’t know if…” FC Scorpia began, but she was too late. Catra was already swinging.

Yani knew it would hurt. She’d been hit with a stun rod plenty of times in basic training. It was always a sharp pain that you could feel all over, down to the roots of your teeth. She was prepared for the pain. In the Horde, you were always prepared for pain. But that didn’t mean she was okay with getting zapped.

She mustered her strength and pulled from Scorpia’s grasp, dropping her weight as Scorpia tried to manoeuvre her away from Catra’s blow and tumbling down. She staggered up and away as she heard Catra growl as her hit sliced through empty air. She stumbled up and grabbed the closest thing she could find, and her fingers wrapped around the cold metal of… the sword.

“Dae-Ra…”

Okay. Two choices. Another hit from the stun rod, or pick up the sword?

Sword it was then. She heaved it up, and spun around to face the room.  Catra hovered back, smirking, even as Scorpia held up her hands and Entrapta gave a frankly disconcerting grin.

The sword was heavier than she'd expected. It seemed to drag her down with it, but she held it aloft. Barely.

“Good choice,” the Commander said, slowly stepping to the side, keeping her low crouch, stun rod up and ready.

Yani let the sword drop slightly, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible while maintaining her defences.

“Please, don’t. I’m nobody, you said it yourself.”

“Apparently not.”

“We don’t have to fight. I’ll try and speak to the sword. Just let me try...”

“Why try that, when this is so much more fun?” Catra smiled, and lunged.

Yani’s vision clouded. One moment Catra was leaping, and the next she was scrambling back, stun rod dropped and forgotten. Everything was darker, everything was… she was angry. No, she was furious. How dare this stupid cat lady… how dare they even try to touch her… she would destroy them for…

Yani caught sight of herself in the reflection of the walls, and her anger instantly dissipated.

It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. She was taller and stronger and her hair flew around her head like a dreadful halo. Her clothes had melted away, replaced by black fabric and armour of sleek silver. And her eyes… her eyes glowed red.

Fear gripped her and devoured her courage. That wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. Because that was… she was terrifying.

A flash of sickly red light and she was herself again, panic etched across her face. The Sword clattered from her grip as she stumbled back, looking up at the horrified faces of her superiors.

Catra straightened from her crouch and some unkind emotion stretched across her face. “I can work with this.”

#she ra #spop #glimadora #catra #scorpia #entrapta #my fic #she ra fic

[ronsenburg]

8,6,7,5,3, and 9!

3: Describe yourself as if you were a character in a novelShe existed within a strange bubble of contradictions that never seemed fully settled. She spent exorbitant amounts of money on things like hair care, clothes, and makeup, but spent most of her days lounging around under blankets on her couch in oversized sweaters and messy buns with a dog curled in a tight ball on her lap. A perfectionist first and foremost, she was so afraid of failing that she often preferred never to try in the first place and, instead, appear to the world like an unmotivated slacker —-

Never mind, I’m taking this way too seriously kldjflksdjfkjsf

5: Name one place you would never want to go to:This is such a tough one! I think that going anywhere can be amazing with the right kind of planning or people to show you around, but I guess… Antarctica? Even for science reasons. I am NOT a big fan of cold weather or vast stretches of nothingness.

6: What was a weird thing you did as a child?I used to subject my family to very long “shows” that I would spend literal weeks building sets and planning dance numbers for. Imagine cardboard boxes with construction paper taped to it with really bad drawings scribbled on it. I’d rope my little brothers into performing with me, but I’d change my mind so many times about the songs we were singing or the dance routines that they usually ended up as bad, 8 year old improv while my brothers just stood next to me giving me serious side eye. My grandma usually cut me off after an hour.

7: Describe a memorable dream you’ve had.I had this crazy dream last night that I was being psychologically tortured by some bad dude who kind of looked like Kristoph Gavin? He literally kept putting me in these insane situations where I had to make difficult moral decisions that put either myself or a series of strangers in danger. I kept trying to run away from him, but it was set in the 1800s and I had so little autonomy as a woman that people kept telling him where I’d gone and then the cycle would start again. And I woke up and laid in bed for, like, an hour after wondering if I had made the right choices and if he really would have killed the people he threatened to. It was messed up. 8. What’s something that would make you really happy?I wrote something really heavy here first, BUT I’M GOING TO ERASE IT AND SAY INSTEAD- drabble prompts, HC requests, messages about fandom stuff, comments on my fcs, fanart of my fics, messages from my mutuals, ALL THAT STUFF IS THE BEST ILU GUYS.

9: Describe your best friend without mentioning body features or personality traits:Unpaired socks left in strange places about the apartment, subscriptions to finance magazines that pile up in the corner of the bathroom without ever having been read, a collection of fine glassware that you might find in an upscale restaurant collecting dust in cabinets, the sound of unrestrained laughter and off-key singing echoing from the other room, strong coffee and hastily penned love notes waiting on the kitchen table in the morning. Warm comforters, unconditional acceptance, love.

oddly specific asks

#THANK YOU JAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!! #sorry for getting all romantic on main my dudes #ronsenburg asks #long post

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

New Hope (Joseph & Reader)

Description: Once you've decided to visit your auntie and uncle living in Hope County, Montana. And you met an interesting man in there.

A/N: Joseph is in his twenties in this one-shot. So he isn’t a cult leader - but he's a young man who believes that God is speaking to him and also, it's before his homeless era and even before his wife - he's really young (21, more to 22, I think - in FC he's 44). This isn't the real past of the Seeds brothers - I just think that it could be that way.

Warnings: NSFW content and swearing, just by the way. Pretty long, too.

Inspired by Strangers from Sigrid, also by Warm On A Cold Night by Honne.

It was one of your last days in Hope County, you were sitting under huge spruce and your objective was shaking. You were freakin’ freezing. Falling rain was heavy and your “water-proof” jacket was already soggy as hell. You were cursing at everything and kneeling in wet moss. But the photos were really worth it. 

You came to visit your family living on the border of the county located at Montana. You've been in love with this place since the first time you've visited it. You were working as a photographer at the time and this country's wildlife just fascinated you. You haven't seen so many animals in one place before - not even at the zoo. There were bears, mosses and you even captured some salmons jumping out of the water - you and your chief were both contented with the results and your payment was already highest of all you had before. 

Right now, you have a Karibu in your sight - hiding under a huge tree with some baby Karibu. It was so magnificent, that you had to follow them through the forest for many hours - and now was the time to fire your shot. The objective was on them and you didn't move and ich - and all of the sudden... You sneezed. Karibu family have been gone in a second. 

„Well, fuck me right in the ass.“ You mumbled to tissue as you were getting up. It was almost hour to your car - so you got up and went back on the road. There was a town nearby as your map said. More like a few houses together than a town, you thought yourself - but took the chance to have a rest in a local pub. The town was about a half mile away from the place where you were now.

You arrived in the town after less than ten minutes. Your camera was already swimming in the case, you would bet that. You invaded the pub like a big bang - you stumbled over the door’s threshold and you have fallen on the ground. You heard a loud breaking sound. You didn't give a single fuck about the people in the pub an sat on your buttocks, opening the camera case, mumbling just no, no, no, no - over and over again. 

„Pissflaps!“ You shouted all over the place and everyone has gone silent. Of course that you have broken your objective. Your favorite one - the one that your dad gave you a few years ago as your first. The lens has broken right in the center - it was a unique opportunity to take beautiful photos through cracked objective, but still. You wanted to cry but you closed your eyes and got up. 

The others started to talk once again and you've sat in the corner of the pub. You ordered a beer and hot tea, sitting in one of the boxes away from the bar. You took the camera in your palm and started to browse the gallery. You have been pissed off and you were adoring the photos of Hope County at one moment.

There was a whole bunch of your cousin's smiling face. You looked at another one - your uncle was repairing his old pick-up named Tango, his face and clothes all oiled up - he was all messy and he covered you in that mess too. After a few other photos, there was your auntie, baking the traditional family pie with plates of lemon all around. Then there was her in her church clothes. Then there was you in church clothes - a long, wine red skirt long a little bit under your knees and white shirt with a light, pink sweater. 

You are my sweet little girl, your mommy has always told you on Sundays. You never believed in God, you really didn't, but you came to the church when your auntie or mommy wanted you to come. 

„What a nice girl,“ a quiet voice whispered in your ear and scared the hell out of you. He didn't actually whisper - but you freaked out anyway. You put your hand on your chest and breathed deeply. „Oh, that’s you!” He laughed all of the sudden and you were convinced that the man in front you is some sort of psycho. You were looking at him without a single word - the man bent for your camera and he looked at the picture in details. He was smiling. 

„Berk, what the fuck are you doing?! That’s my camera!“ You finally came to oneself and got your camera back. You didn't look at him and sat down. Your clothes were still soaking wet and water was dripping from your bun. Your cheeks were red as the communist manifesto and your body was on fire, it was coming to oneself after three hours spent in the depths of the woods in the heavy rain. You reached for the camera case and started to put it in.

„Pardon me, lady. I just can't control my curiosity sometimes.“ He said and you heard him laughing. Asshat. 

„Well, learn it then. This is just rude.” You mumbled and he chuckled a little. 

„Can I sit down?” He asked calmy - his voice was husky and it was really nice to listen. You finally closed up the case and looked at him. It was a really young man - probably one, two years older than you at maximum. He wore a denim jacket with wool lining, a shirt with blue and black squaring and a black t-shirt under it. His jeans were black and tight - his shoes were brown, typical shoes for a hike in the woods. He had a few rings on his hand and his big, manly palm was holding a beer. Then you have finally looked into his face.

It was a hell of a man. He had a beard and you could say by one look, that he cared about it a lot. His hair was combed into a man bun - it had brown, wild color with glasses with yellow glass and metallic frames. His eyes were like water - lightly blue, almost like drops of the rain outside. He was charming, handsome... And asshat, you remembered to yourself.

„Suit yourself, creep.“ You took a sip of hot tea and then a gulp of beer. 

„You're spirited and fiery - I like that.” He sat and looked directly into your face.

„Well, you're rude and weird, probably a thief... And I don't definitely like that.“ You took another gulp of the beer in front of you. He chuckled once again. His smile was crooked, his lower lip was definitely waving at your lips. 

„I am not a thief, I assure you. I am Joseph, Joseph Seed. And you are..?” He gave you his palm and wait patiently. You hesitated a bit, but then you accepted his hand. You shook it a bit and maybe you smiled a little. 

„Y/N Y/S/N. Not so nice to meet you, but I'll give you the second chance, ok?” You asked and he smiled a bit. His head nodded almost immediately. Both of you put your hands on the bottle of beer. 

„Well, well, well... What a lady like you does here, in Whitetail mountains? This town is a pretty out-of-the-way place.“

„A lady like me? What are you talking about, Joseph?” You said his name and he heeled over to you. 

„I mean - the women out here aren’t like you, look at yourself. It’s God’s land out here - I swear, I didn't hear cursing since I didn't see my older brother. You are... I can feel your energy. The east gals are pretty fierce too - but right now I’m staying on the North. But...”

„But?“

„You aren’t from Hope County.“ He said confidently. You opened your mouth and then smiled a little. He had some skills - and he was good with people. You haven't no idea how much did he actually charm you - until he showed you his full smile. He was an asshat - but a handsome and charming asshat. „Ok, you uncovered me, mister Seed. But how do you know... How can you be so sure?“ 

„Let’s face it - berk is a typical British cursing word. And, you're suntanned. How would you get suntanned in this part of the year in North America... In those woods? But... I can’t figure out where are you from, cause you don't have any British accent - I think that you're from South America - I mean, like Florida or whatever.” He summarized all thing and you raised your eyebrows. 

„Right, those are some skills. You’re right. I am from Miami, but my family lived here in Hope County and a big part of it still lives in Fall’s End or here at Whitetail mountains. Only I and my parents have left the ’rough North’. But my dad has a half-brother Charlie from London... And that man is a swearing machine. But he's really clever.“ You leaned on the seat and smiled at him. He was a likable man - the one who is shrewd and observant to details. There was something about him and you were smiling like an idiot.

„A lot of people is saying that. I am just like that - I do track details on them. That makes me pretty good with them. And I am a pretty nice and charming man, that sets me in a pretty good position. They believe me and... I can’t tell you all of my tactics!“ He laughed all of a sudden and drank once again. Your cheeks were rosy and your eyes were shining like two stars. You were starting to like him, but you were pretty confused about him. Was he joking or was he dropping clues about his personality? Was he manipulative? 

„Now, you were saying something about staying here on the North... You're not from here?“ You asked quick. He looked into your eyes and smiled a bit. 

„You were listening, I see... No, I’m not. My brothers and I... We are from the East. My younger brother in the local children's home.“ He stopped smiling and tears appeared in his eyes. He went from smiling calm person to a broken, angry man whose mouth was shut in line.

„I didn't mean to be rude, excuse me, Joseph.“ His look went into your face and he looked like a psycho. The emotions were running in him - millions of them in one second. He was sad, then angry, then he looked strangely melancholic and at least, he looked into your face like an empty human case. Then he smiled again and you sighed in relief.

„Don't be sorry, I am. It happened a long time ago and I'm still feeling really emotional about it." He stood up and drank the last gulp of his beer. „Well, mine beer is totally empty, but we've just met and the night is too young, don't ya think. Do you want me to take another beer for you?"

„No, not beer, I'll have an apple cider, please. Thank you, gentleman." You smiled at each other, and the rest of your beer disappeared in you. You gave him your empty bottle and when your hand went forward to his, your fingertips touched his palm. He was touching your palm too, and you could feel the little fire which came from that interaction. Then he slowly walked to the bar.

You watched him silently, your palm was stroking your cheek and your eyes were slightly closed. He walked slowly, his butt and hips were moving in little circles. He's walking like a freakin' cowboy... And you found it really attractive - all of the sudden. Well, it was the first cowboy that ever attracted you. Not even your internet date from Texas didn't get you as excited through the whole night as that Joseph boy did under a half of an hour. You sighted for yourself, and when he was away enough, you started to try to look like a human. You set your hair free, let the waterdrops falling on a wet t-shirt. The rest of your clothes was thrown all over nearby heating. 

You knew that your skin looked unhealthy pale, there were some pimples on your forehead and there was no make-up in the vicinity of five miles. You started to panic - all sudden, your confidence was gone and the only thing you wanted was not to like a potato. But although you looked like a total cadaver, it looked that he likes you. You went redder even though you thought that it isn't possible.

He came back after a pretty long time. With a cider for you, a beer for him and two shots of green liquid. You almost calmed down, when showed up.

„Well, how much am I going to pay you?” 

„It's my treat, (Y/N). You will pay me back by an hour, or two of talking and listening. I would like to get you to know something about me. And, in the opposite direction, of course.“ He smiled and gave one of the shots to you. It smelled like your toothpaste. „On meeting new people?“ „On meeting new Josephs.“ You smiled back and let your hair fall on your shoulder.

He was really suave and after some alcohol, he started to become more and more handsome. You were talking almost the whole time - and he was a flawless listener. He laughed where he had to, he comforted you when he had to and his eyes smiled at you the whole time. You just didn't shut up.

„And that's the whole story.“ You finished. You finished the whole story of how your father took you and your siblings fishing. And you got a dog named Cargo in there.

„Yeah... He was.“ Your cider was empty. „Now you. How was your childhood like?“ You looked deeply into his eyes. The happy cowboy was gone in a second - he shut up and thought a few minutes. Then he smiled gloomily, and finally sight.

„But my life isn’t some kind of fairytale. And it is not going to be “happily ever after,” I think, you know? We moved here from a small town in Georgia. I have two brothers - Jacob, who is in war and John, that's the young one. I have talked to Jacob many months ago for the last time. He's gone missing two months ago, and I hope that he's alive somewhere out there. I pray for him every single evening. John is nine years old now. It was that one evening I drove Jacob to an airport in Montana when John stayed at home with parents... And they have beaten him up as a dog. Or that's the story I've heard from him. They've beaten him up just because he refused something, he said no. My parents... They were really strange. They were strongly believing Christians. Their love for Jesus was stronger than their love for anything else - even stronger than love for their own children. I didn't grow up in our so-called home... Let me tell you why. When I was a little boy, I didn't want to go back to our house after school because they were beating me, they forced me to read the Bible over and over again. To keep down and be quiet. I ran away many times - but police caught me and dragged me back to that house. How I said, they have beaten you really hard after you did something against God’s will. I was their main concern before John was born - Jacob knew how to defend himself. But he couldn't defend me. I was afraid to come back from school. I ran away from home when I was eighteen. I ran for days and night, further and further. Only Jacob knew where I was. But he had to go back to Iran, and John stayed alone. A six-year-old boy with those freaks for freakin’ three years... He’s a sensitive child. He is curious, full of love inside - but on the outside? Those freaks made him look like a body without a soul. The nuns told me, that he refused to eat for the first few months. He only ate when he was starving... Now, I’m trying to get him into foster care. I will be a good brother to him - after all those years.“ He said with cracked-up voice. He lowered his head into his lap and it looked like wanted to cry and tried not to really hard. He pushed his jaws against each other and he was breathing loudly.

You get up and sit next to him, your head was leaning back on his shoulder and your palm was stroking his back only in the shirt. He was warm and he smelled nice - you started to warming up next to that cowboy. It was the alcohol you had, in a part. And you liked him too. Maybe he was an asshat - but you changed your opinion and you started to like him about an hour ago.

You decided not to ask more. Not to ask about his brothers or parents. No more questions.   „It’s ok, Joseph. Don't get stuck in your memories. You are persuading me that you aren't a creep and thief, don't you remember?“ You whispered and he laughed lightly. Your heart melted a little and you pushed yourself closer to him. You kissed him into hair and your look entwined. 

„Can I tell you something else?“ He was millimeters away from you and you felt his breath and you even smell it. An oh boy, it was turning you on so bad. But you controlled your temper and smiled innocently. 

„Of course you can. I am here for you.“ 

„Sometimes I can hear sort of a... A voice inside my head. It is talking to me (Y/N). Sometimes it whispers... Sometimes it shouts. I can hear it since I was seven years old - since my father beat me up with a belt for the first time. I don't think that I'm losing my sanity. The voice is helping and it is telling me something about a future plan it has for me - that I will be a savior. But I have to walk my path on this earth to be the savior. You know? Maybe I will make a difference in the future. I think that God’s chosen me as his Prophet.“ He looked on his shoes again and shut up for a moment. „Does it sound as crazy as I think it does?“

You didn’t want to answer him directly, yes or no. He was a broken man inside and you felt it from his words and from the voice timbre he had. Both of you stayed quiet for a while. You held his palm in yours and smiled a bit.

„Is that voice talking to you right now, you creep?“

„You would bet your ass it does.“ You heard the first and the last curse word from his mouth in his husky and calm voice. 

„What does it say?“ You swallowed and your eyes met again.

„That this is a good idea.“

And so, you walked hand in hand out of the pub. The rain was pouring from the sky even more than before, mud and puddles were everywhere. You two ran through the city and both of you were giggling like children. You ran into some tall grass and you were all soaked up again. But you actually didn't give a fuck about that. 

The cowboy was holding your hand as tight as no one before, he was laughing and looking at you as if you were some sort of an angel. He kissed you in the pub passionately - and oh boy, he was a good kisser. Everything was shining and you couldn't get your eyes off him. You were drunk and excited after a really long time and it was beautiful. 

You two ran into a carn. 

„My room is up there. Come on, (Y/N).“ He took your hand and pulled you to the stairs. And he didn't lie - there was a door to the added room for rent. He unlocked it and invited you inside. There were a bed and a mirror, two windows with a view oriented to the wilderness and a small bathroom. That was all. 

You finally looked at yourself - and sweet baby Jesus, you were looking like a total piece of shit. Your tracking trousers weren't lightly blue anymore - the mud was all over them and they were soaking wet. The water was dripping out of your hair and then you've seen your face. You smiled at yourself - you were looking like a seventeen years old girl. Your cheeks were rosy and your eyes were melting with excitement. Your hair was everywhere and still - somehow you were turning that cowboy on.

„Come. Don't be shy and make yourself home.“

„I can’t. I am totally dirty. The mud would be everywhere.“

He smiled and you looked at him. His hair was out of the man bun - and you were lost in that moment so hard. He was slowly walking like a cowboy, smiling a little. He was... He was anything but creepy or looking like an idiot. He so sexy in that moment, that you started to beg God to let him fuck you as hard he could. 

He took you your camera case and carefully lied it on his bedside table. He went back to you, unzipped your jacket. It fell by its own will. He slowly unzipped your hoodie and helped you out of it. You stood there, cold as hell, the rain was pouring outside and the thunderstorm began. And still, you were fascinated by that man. He kissed you one more time meanwhile his palms were playing with the hem of your T-shirt, slowly peeling off the wet material off your body. It was gone in an instant and both you were shirtless. 

You caressed his hair with your fingers, locked them here and you even pulled a little. You felt his fingers on your trousers zip and you were defenseless, without breath. You sighed with lust in your belly when his ice cold fingertips touched your burning skin. Then he lowered himself on his knees, his lips were wandering all over your curves, putting soaked trousers away of your body. Then he took off your shoes and socks. You almost fell down, when he stood up. He did the same thing as he was lowering down - he closed his eyes and wander on your shin and thigh, going up to your belly and your breasts. You stood there only in your underwear, barely breathing.

„As I said before, angel. Make yourself at home.“ He smiled and went off taking his clothes. So you moved towards the bed, feeling insecure clothed only in your underwear. You would never define yourself as "pretty" or "sexy". You were just a normal woman. You had scars on your body and your hair wasn't shaved perfectly and your pimples were lighting as Christmas lights. So you sat on his stone hard bed. And covered yourself with his thick blanket, it was innocently white and it was really soft and cold. You covered yourself all over and watched the cowboy.

His pants were slowly leaning to the ground, the belt was making noises when it touched the ground, and then he took the pants off at the same time with his shoes. His bare feet were sticking to the cold ground, so you heard every step he took. 

A few moments later he was sitting on the bed with you, touching your bare shoulder. He was warm. And looking at you.

„Don't worry and show yourself to me as God made you.“ He winked at you, the alcohol gave him courage. As you understood, he was a religious man who believed that God’s speaking to me - so he was a big part of his life. So he accepted you as a God’s creation no matter how bad you thought you look.

The blanket fell down on you, and you leaned closer. His skin was on at least a boiling point. 

„Come on, my dear. You are as beautiful as you are.“ His hands hugged you hardly and his body tumbled you on the bed. He was heavy - but not as heavy as the lovers you had before. 

It wasn't as tough act as you hoped, but you never knew you could have so much pleasure from an ordinary missionary position - and you finally knew that the mistake wasn't in you as you always thought. It was a slow, pleasing act for both of you - sometimes he came in too fast and you both giggled. You could feel him breathing on your skin, sometimes you heard his sights interrupted by the thunderstorm outside. And the only time you could see him gasp for air was only when the flash hit the ground. 

The acme came from all the sudden, both of you shook in delight, screaming as loud as you could. Your fingers were interlaced in convulsion and you couldn't believe that it was that fast. You lied to him, hugged his waist and closed your eyes. You felt safe when he hugged you back and kissed your forehead. 

„Thank you.“ He whispered and you rested your chin on his thorax, looking into his beautiful eyes. His hair was everywhere around his head - he looked like a Jesus. He was smiling, slowly sketched fingers on your shoulder. The cowboy was looking the most charming and handsome from the whole evening. „For what?“ You asked back. 

He didn't respond but kissed you on the forehead once again. Then you got up and spread every piece of your clothes on the ground to get it dry. Both of you were naked, you chatted as if you were longtime friends - you trusted him after one night in one bed. When it was finished, you came back to bed and leaned under the blankets together. Both of you fell asleep really fast.  

When you woke up, the sun was shining high in the sky and the birds were singing outside. But you woke up all alone. The cowboy was already gone - you couldn't see him. He folded your clothes on one pile and prepared you a breakfast - juice with bread and honey.

After a while you have eaten, you discovered that he took your camera out of the case and lay it on the bedtime table. You took it into your palms and switched it on. There were all the photos you remembered - except the last. It was him, photographed in the mirror next to the door. Shirtless, only in his pants with his man bun and the yellow glasses on. He was smiling - and you were smiling too. he was cute. 

Then you found a note under the camera case. The note he left you.

Dear (Y/N), it said. I had to leave immediately because they called me from John’s children's home. We are finally heading back to the east - after the night I spent with you, I'm looking forward to the future. We will be good. Please, pray for us and pray for Jacob. Think of me, and I'm looking forward to seeing you once again in the future.

That you, thank you for the new hope you gave me by your presence.

Yours truly, Joseph.

#joseph seed imagine #joseph seed #far cry 5 #fc5 #imagine #religion #hope county #young joseph seed #joseph and his brothers #nwsf #uncharted reference #charlie cutter

[timelord-in-hogwarts]

wayhaven aesthetics 4/??: detective jacob hurwitz

“I’ve learned to slam on the brakes, before I even turned the key; before I make the mistake, before I lead with the worst of me.” (Waving Through a Window - Dear Evan Hansen)

Detective Jacob Hurwitz

“Why do I need to talk to other people? I have you, I have my mum, I have Verda, that’s already three friends, certainly more than in high school.”

A science enthusiast;

Whatever money he has to spend on himself usually goes to science magazines;

Spends a lot of time with Verda down at his lab just to make use of the equipment;

May or may not have some illegal chemical equipment;

He is not confirming nor denying;

But does state it is for science;

Wears glasses, but opts for contacts;

Avoids confrontations as best he can;

And conversations as well;

Only talks openly with Tina, Verda and his mom;

Later on with Unit Bravo as well;

Deals with heavy social anxiety;

Although it is much better than it was during high school;

Sometimes wears his hair in a bun or ponytail;

Tina braids it sometimes when they talk;

Has a close relationship with his mother;

Is a soft sweet boy who just wants to hug people but at the same time is very afraid;

Has a sweet tooth;

Does not compute flirting, he is reduced to a fumbling and blushing mess;

Of Jewish descent(and Jewish himself);

Romancing Mason;

FC: Ton Heukels

#the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven chronicles #the detectives #oc: jacob hurwitz #my edit #my cinnamon roll #he is just A Good Boy TM #pls somebody hug him #he needs it

[termints]

Wack 36 day community meetings anti maskers maser master blasters Job nutter twelve o’clock shadows no nothing brigade lock them up and throw away the key ��� these anti maskers give em the shifter shafted up barb wire creek without a paddles paddle pops 36 day stroppy strophes stroppy strops hello possums meerkats in my element elementals sokaiya sokaiya smoky sokaiya sokoto sokoto salacious sokaiya sokaiya sokaiya sokoto sokoto Kodak Kodak Kodachrome bad phones in BUNNIES BUNNINGS dudes dudes dew drops drops dew drops drop it like it’s hard hard yacker yacker hard yacker cherry bomb cheritocher cherito cherimoya cherimoyas cherimoyas 🔐💍💍💍🔐🔐🔐♦️🌹🌹🌹🤘👍💚🦠🤔🙏🧬📷💀📷🙃😋😌😌😂😅😇Stir The Pot MENULOG bloggers bop bop bop inside the defensive 5o OUTSTANDING viewers the grows fonder planted from a solemn seed not infact matter of fact a noxious need human biped bipedal crazy red head water shed ✊🍔😍🎸🍰Ⓜ️☹️🤬🤖🤫🤔😷🦠✅ has the penny dropped @snoopdogg sloops don’t dog MENULOG sprigs sorogs sprogs viewers noonday walkers heavy breathing rubbernecked gawkers quick steppers bye hecklers frenzy frenetic not never asthetic in our atmosphere viewers quick steppers noonday walkers night stalkers occasionals #russelcrowe ucken Crowe’s 🇨🇳🚯@scottmorrisonmp @danandewsmp#writing @scottmorrisonmp @danandewsmp#writing #believensucceed #creatives #gymheads #buddingchefs #influencers #social-lights @todayshow9 #karltodays09ism #regmombassa @time @thenewyorker (at Richmond FC) https://www.instagram.com/p/CDOULobJtfK/?igshid=1d1j8lbgdcyp0

#russelcrowe #writing #believensucceed #creatives #gymheads #buddingchefs #influencers #social #karltodays09ism #regmombassa

[sfarticles]

Hot diggity dog! Explore some tasty takes on one of America’s iconic foods

As seen in the New Haven Register 7/22/20:

https://bit.ly/3fXQLvX

Whether you call it a frankfurter, frank, wiener, weenie, coney, red hot or hot dog, it’s National Hot Dog Month and time to celebrate one of America’s most iconic foods. Hot dogs are part of American culture and summer backyard celebrations.

I remember lunchtime when I was in elementary school, and we waited in line by the old station wagon with the wood-grain side panels where the street vendor served up boiled hot dogs topped with hot sauerkraut with spicy, brown mustard from the back hatch of the vehicle. This was the way wieners were served, at least in the New York City area.

Living not too far from the original Nathan’s on Coney Island, my parents would take me there to enjoy the famous dogs and french fries. Don’t we all have “hot-dog memories” and favorite brands and toppings? Each region of he country has its  favorites, too. It seems that Hummel, founded in 1933 in New Haven, is the favored brand in this region of Connecticut.

No matter where you travel in the country, there is a local hot dog stand, pushcart, diner, deli or restaurant offering its version of the American classic, often with “secret” condiments topping off the dog.

Traveling this summer might not be on your agenda, so get yourself a copy of “The Great American Hot Dog Book: Recipes and Side Dishes from Across America” by Becky Mercuri (2007, Gibbs-Smith Publishing, $14.99) and you will be able to “visit” some well-known hot dog places from  your own kitchen.

From the Coney Island Dog of New York to the Remoulade Dog in New Orleans to the tortilla-wrapped Bacon Burrito Dog  at Pink’s in Los Angeles to the New York System Hot Wiener Sauce served at the famous Original New York System in Providence, R.I., the book takes you on a tour to reveal the inside story of how the hot dog has evolved and become even more firmly entrenched in America’s culinary traditions.

You’ll notice how the humble hot dog has stepped up a notch or two, dressed up in creative toppings. Mercuri begins with a bit of hot dog history and introduces entrepreneurs who’ve contributed to hot dog culture. The following chapters are devoted to various regions of the country. She then breaks down the chapter by state, including well-known establishments, back stories and recipes for  the dogs, toppings and  signature side dishes.

Recipes such as Hot Dog Parmesan and Philadelphia Surf and Turf (a grilled fish cake, mashed, that tops  off a hot dog, with yellow mustard and chopped onions), I must admit, made me want to stick to the dogs I prefer, like those served from that old station wagon.

Celebrate the all-American food that has been served by presidents, enjoyed by astronauts on the moon and relished in backyards throughout the country. Here are a few recipes from the book for you to enjoy on your “tour.”

                     Deep-Fried Dogs with Mustard and Pear-Pepper Relish                                                                

The headnote says, “This mild, delicious relish is a cousin to that served at Blackie’s. If more heat is desired, increase the amount of jalapeno peppers. The recipe is adapted from a formula for pear relish by the late Chef Chet Beckwith of Baton Rouge, La., and as Chet would say,  ‘It will set your toes tapping.’”

Founded in 1928, Blackie’s, located in Cheshire, is a well-known establishment in Connecticut. They even make their own mustard. The author writes, “their spicy hot relish is a closely guarded secret, and fans are left speculating as to the formula for what appears to be a mixture of chopped green peppers, vinegar, and spices — including, perhaps a bit of cinnamon.”

4 firm Bartlett pears, peeled, cored and coarsely ground in a food processor

2 large onions, chopped

2 medium green bell peppers, cored, seeded and diced

1 jalapeno pepper (or more, to taste), seeded, deveined and diced

Boiling water

11/2 cups sugar

21/4 teaspoons mustard seed

3/4 teaspoon ground allspice

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

3/4 teaspoon turmeric

1 tablespoon salt

11/2 cups white vinegar

Prepare and place, in 3 separate bowls, the pears, onions and all the peppers. Place pears in a colander and pour boiling water over them, drain well and place in a heavy medium pot. Repeat with the onions and then the peppers, adding both to the pot with the pears. Mix the pears and peppers together. In a medium bowl, combine the sugar, spices and salt, and add the pear mixture. Add the vinegar and mix well. Over medium-high heat, bring the mixture to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer, uncovered and stirring occasionally for 30 minutes. Pour the hot relish into hot, sterilized jars and cover, following the manufacturer’s directions for preparation and safety. Place the jars of relish in a boiling hot water bath for 20 minutes. Remove from water and set the jars on kitchen towels to seal, this will be indicated by a popping noise. Makes about 4 12-ounce jars.

Assembly

Canola oil for deep-frying

Hot dogs, all-beef or a pork and beef mixture

Hot dog buns, toasted

Spicy brown mustard

Pear-pepper relish

In a heavy, deep pot, heat the canola oil over high heat to 350 degrees. Deep-fry the hot dogs, a few at a time to the desired degree of doneness. Place the hot dogs on buns and top with mustard and pear-pepper relish. Serve immediately. Source: Hummel Brothers.

                                     Bacon-Kraut Dogs                                                                

Rawley’s Drive-In located in Fairfield is another Connecticut favorite. The author writes, “Rawley’s is a busy place, often frequented by Meg Ryan or David Letterman. ... The bacon topping is so popular that Rawley’s fries up twenty pounds of it every day, and some folks order ‘heavy bacon,’ or double the amount.”

Canola oil for deep-frying

Beef and pork franks

Hot dog buns

Butter

Mustard

Sauerkraut, plain or heated (recipe below)

Chopped onion

1 slice of bacon per hot dog (or more, to taste), cooked crisp, drained and crumbled

In a heavy, deep pot, heat the canola oil to 350 degrees. Deep-fry the hot dogs, a few at a time, until they are just beginning to blister. Meanwhile, heat a griddle. As the hot dogs are removed from the oil, transfer them to the griddle and cook until crispy and blistered. Open hot dog buns and lightly butter the inside; place on griddle to toast. Place the hot dogs in buns and top with mustard, sauerkraut, onions and bacon. Serve immediately.     

                                                          Sauerkraut                                                The headnote says, “Some folks are partial to plain sauerkraut on their hot dogs, but this version, mild and favorable is truly a delicious topping.

”1 (2-pound) package refrigerated sauerkraut

1/2 cup butter

2 medium onions, chopped

1 (14-ounce) can beef broth

1 cup white wine, such as Chablis, divided

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a colander, rinse the sauerkraut under running water and drain well. In a deep, medium frying pan, melt butter over low heat. Add onions and sauté, stirring occasionally, for 20-25 minutes or until soft and translucent. Add sauerkraut and mix well. Stir in beef broth and, over medium-high heat, bring just to a boil. Remove from heat and stir in 1/2 cup of the wine. Pour sauerkraut mixture into a 13-inch by-9-inch non-reactive baking dish and cover tightly with foil. Bake for 1 hour. Remove sauerkraut from oven, stir in remaining wine, reseal with foil and return to oven for 1 hour longer, or until sauerkraut is golden and most of the liquid is evaporated. Makes about 4 cups.

                                       North Dakota State Fair Corn Dogs                                                                

Canola oil for deep frying

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 cup yellow corn meal

1 tablespoon sugar

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1/2 cup milk

1 egg

1 tablespoon vegetable shortening, melted

6 hot dogs

Plain yellow or spicy brown mustard

In a deep pot, heat oil to 375 degrees. In a bowl, mix together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, salt and dry mustard. In a separate bowl, whisk together the milk, egg and shortening and add it to the flour mixture, stirring until smooth. Place the mixture in a deep pie pan. Dry hot dogs with paper towels. Dip hot dogs into batter to evenly coat and carefully place into hot oil, cooking two at a time. Deep-fry two to three minutes, or until golden brown, turning them carefully with tongs to brown all sides. Remove from oil and drain on paper towels. Serve immediately with the mustard. Serves 6.

Note: Wooden sticks may be inserted into the hot dogs before they are battered and deep-fried.

                                       Culinary calendar                                                                

“Summer Saturdays”July 25 noon-4 p.m., participating New Haven restaurants will offer two-course prix-fixe lunch menus for $20 (excluding beverage, tax, and gratuity). Reservations are required. Other restaurants and cafes, including coffee shops and bakeries, offer 20 percent  off an item. Local musicians will perform live at select spots throughout the city. Special parking rates are available. Participating restaurants and other retail shops at www.infonewhaven.com/new-haven-summer-saturdays.

.          What chef would you like me to interview? Which restaurant recipes or other recipes would you like to have? Which food products do you have difficulty finding? Do you have cooking questions? Send them to me: Stephen Fries, professor and coordinator of the Hospitality Management Programs at Gateway Community College, at [email protected] or Dept. FC, Gateway Community College, 20 Church St., New Haven 06510. Include your full name, address and phone number. Due to volume, I might not be able to publish every request. For more, go to stephenfries.com.

#hot dogs #The Great american Hot Dog Book

[furmark6-blog]

The Evolution of K2FC, a.k.a. Kenji's Kimchi Fried Chicken Sandwich

[Photographs: Vicky Wasik, except where noted. Video: Serious Eats Team]

I visited the Serious Eats test kitchen in Brooklyn back in October of 2018 to shoot this video about my Korean fried chicken recipe. The date is relevant because now, over half a year later, the fried chicken I cook in the video bears only a slight resemblance to the one I currently serve at my restaurant, Wursthall.

Nor is it very similar to the one I served four years ago at a strip mall in the San Gabriel Valley, during a pop-up event for my first book tour. Or the one you may have seen me make a couple years ago on Guy's Grocery Games. In fact, I've been playing with some iteration of the concept of a kimchi-brined fried chicken sandwich for many years now, so what you're seeing in this recipe and video are really just a snapshot of a dish that's still evolving. Heck, there are two distinct versions in the video alone!

First things first: Calling it "Korean fried chicken" is a misnomer. Korean fried chicken is an actual, defined thing: chicken fried with an eggshell-crisp coating of cornstarch slurry. I even have a recipe for it.

The recipe I'm talking about today is more like Southern-style fried chicken with Korean flavors. It takes some influence from Nashville hot chicken and fast food chicken sandwiches as well. On the menu at Wursthall, we've been reluctantly calling it "K2FC"—Kenji's Korean fried chicken. I get embarrassed seeing my name printed in the menu like that, but my partner insists.*

* Strangely, it's a secondhand kind of embarrassment. I look at the menu and think, Ooohhh, who's that Kenji guy who decided to name a dish after himself? Yikes.

The very first time I made this sandwich, it was at a friend's house in Jamaica Plain, near Boston. The idea of marinating chicken in kimchi brine had just struck me. I already knew that pickle juice makes a great brine for fried chicken—aside from adding flavor, the high salt content alters the protein structure of the chicken so that it retains more moisture as it cooks, and the acidity has a tenderizing effect. The same should work with kimchi brine.

So we tried it. It was a pretty quick-and-dirty affair—essentially my Five-Ingredient Fried Chicken Sandwiches, made with kimchi in place of pickles—but it was promising.

The next batch was a little more involved, using my buttermilk fried chicken recipe as the base. I brought that version to an event my old boss Ken Oringer was throwing for the 15th anniversary of his restaurant Clio (which has since been taken over by his sashimi bar, Uni), featuring a 20-course tasting menu cooked by alumni of the restaurant. Nineteen of the world's leading chefs, and me with a fried chicken sandwich.

I'd been planning on serving it with a mayo spiked with gochujang (Korean fermented chili paste) on mini Martin's potato rolls, but Alex Talbot, half of the husband-and-wife team behind Curiosity Doughnuts and the seminal blog Ideas in Food, suggested making a dill-pickle mayonnaise instead, so I went with that, and boy, was it delicious. My friend Jamie Bissonnette, the chef at Little Donkey in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and Toro in Boston and New York, was at the dinner and texted me mid-service to proclaim the sandwich "totally craveable." High praise!

I decided to keep working on the sandwich, serving it at a series of pop-ups in New York, Boston, Los Angeles, and San Francisco during my book tour, each time offering a slightly different version.

This rendition features Stella's classic biscuits with black sesame seeds folded into the dough.

By the time I brought it to Serious Eats, this was where we were: chicken thighs brined in kimchi juice, along with buttermilk, eggs, garlic, salt (just enough to account for the added liquid from the buttermilk), and soy sauce (soy sauce contains proteases that can help tenderize meat), as well as ground black pepper and gochugaru, a Korean chili flake that offers a lot of floral aroma and a bit of heat. You can read about more Korean pantry staples right here.

The sauce starts out like a Nashville hot chicken–style hot oil. I combine oil with chilies (more gochugaru), along with black pepper and garlic, then heat it up until it's sizzling and toasty-smelling.

If you want to keep it real simple, this is a good place to stop. The fried chicken dipped in hot chili oil is delicious all on its own.

But I decided to continue by emulsifying that chili oil into a sauce with gochujang, honey, cider vinegar, and a little soy sauce. It comes out with a sweet-hot-vinegary flavor profile—not unlike Buffalo sauce, but with a deeper, toasty chili flavor.

Next, it's time to dredge and fry the chicken. My standard fried chicken dredge is a mixture of flour and cornstarch, along with a dash of baking powder. The cornstarch and baking powder help the chicken to fry up extra light and crisp.

To this base, I add some more gochugaru and black pepper, along with black sesame seeds and garlic powder. (Garlic powder works well in dredges and spice rubs, where fresh garlic is likely to clump or burn.)

The real trick here (and in literally every single one of my fried chicken recipes) is to drizzle some of the liquid brine into the dredge and massage it in with your fingertips, creating little clumps of breading that add texture and surface area to the chicken as it fries.

Some folks like to rest their chicken after dredging and before frying. I find that the flour over-hydrates this way, producing a crust that's a little leathery. Instead, I prefer to fry immediately after dredging.

My frying vessel of choice at home is a flat-bottomed wok. The wide, flared sides make it easy to flip and maneuver the food inside, while also catching spatter before it hits your stove or countertop.

Peanut or soybean oil is excellent for deep-frying, delivering crispy crusts and neutral flavor. Canola or vegetable will work, too, though the chicken won't end up quite as crisp. I aim to keep the oil at 275 to 300°F (135 to 149°C) the whole way through.

Once the chicken is fried, I drain it, brush it with the sauce, and sprinkle it with a spice blend containing gochugaru, black pepper, black sesame seeds, and a touch of sugar.

Serve the chicken on a toasted potato bun, with a smear of kimchi mayonnaise (which is just drained kimchi, chopped and mixed with mayonnaise); plenty of dill pickles; and a pile of shredded cabbage. It's pretty tasty!

Even tastier is the version we made on Stella's biscuits. You can find the basic recipe in her book, BraveTart; here, she tweaked it by folding black sesame seeds into the dough.** For that version, I went extra light on the sauce, omitted the kimchi mayo, and instead added a drizzle of honey.

** Another version of these biscuits involves adding sliced scallions along with the sesame seeds, which you'll hear Stella mention in the video. Her final recipe doesn't include the scallions, but you can go ahead and add a handful if you want.

[Photograph: J. Kenji López-Alt]

Folks who've been to my restaurant know that the dish in this video is pretty strikingly different from the fried chicken and waffles we serve daily. But, in fact, the Wursthall fried chicken was directly inspired by the black sesame biscuit sandwich!

The chicken starts out essentially the same, though we also add some gochujang to the brine. I've written previously about double-frying chicken—that is, frying it, letting it completely cool, then frying a second time before serving—and that's the technique we use here.

The idea is that after the first fry, moisture from the inner layers of breading eventually starts to spread out, causing the whole crust to soften a little. The second fry drives out moisture a second time, leaving you with an extra-crisp crust. We fry our chicken in 225°F (107°C) soybean oil, to an internal temperature of 155°F (68°C), then chill it and re-fry it to order, at 300°F (149°C), until it's crisp.

After coming out of the fry oil, it goes for a dunk in chili oil, which we flavor with gochugaru, black pepper, cumin, garlic, and ginger. Then it gets a heavy dry dusting of gochugaru, black pepper, cumin, salt, and sugar.

Instead of a bun, we make scallion cornbread waffles, a modified version of my brown butter cornbread—we increase the ratio of regular flour to cornmeal a bit, and reduce the amount of fat, for a little more structure—to which we add scallions, cilantro, and black sesame seeds, before baking in a Belgian waffle iron.

To finish the dish, we spread the waffles with kimchi butter (kimchi, butter, and gochujang combined in a food processor); place the chicken on top; drizzle it all with honey; and add a pile of our lacto-fermented dill pickles and a big splash of our house hot sauce (which is simple: Fresno chilies, fermented for two weeks, then blended and adjusted for seasoning).

[Photograph: J. Kenji López-Alt]

All the same basic flavors and techniques are there; they're just rearranged a bit to fit a restaurant menu and production schedule.

So that's the current State of the Fried Chicken, and it's gonna keep changing. We're now discussing changing our current chicken schnitzel sandwich to a pork schnitzel sandwich and adding a spicy fried chicken sandwich to our menu, which will no doubt start with some past version of this one as a jumping-off point.

Since I'm not really one to keep recipes secret, attached to this article you'll find a recipe for the version of the sandwich shown in the video, plus another recipe for Stella's black sesame buttermilk biscuits. For the restaurant version, if you own Ed's book, Serious Eater, you've already got that recipe in your hand as a thank-you gift. If not, you can probably piece it together from my description here—or just wait. Eventually we'll publish the full recipe publicly, too.

This post may contain links to Amazon or other partners; your purchases via these links can benefit Serious Eats. Read more about our affiliate linking policy.

Source: https://www.seriouseats.com/2019/07/kimchi-fried-chicken-sandwich.html

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more