#bryan match thoughts

[oplishin]

Bryan Danielson and Tyler Black did this sequence a couple times in ROH: Tyler hits a hurracanrana which Bryan immediately rolls and counters into a pin. I'm always entertained by this because 1) super gay 2) tyler is so much taller than bryan he always ends up awkwardly crumpling when his neck/shoulders hit the ground.

(ROH Southern Navigation, May 9 2008, ROH New Horizons, September 26 2008)

[ariszed]

🐉 Two Dragons 🐉

[throesofincreasingwonder]

my (wrestle) dream booking for the ppv is that swerve interferes to help bryan win the match against moxley so that he can have a rematch for the title later. and then he wins the rematch. I think this is the best case scenario for the world championship to me

[biancabelairs]

there's a universe out there where all of aew is booked like the continental classic and i think that must be beautiful

[the-kipsabian]

so glad i dont put any pressure on him obtaining wins anymore, i just want to see him inside the ring doing his thing, which he did flawlessly tonight and im so glad and so happy about tho 💜

[keirareidss]

country girl (shake it for me) - a.h

♡ summary: the team goes out to a bar in texas after a successful case. what happens when hotch's girlfriend takes up line dancing? pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader wc: 1.0k

Texas was hot. 96 degrees in July. You were sure that you had been sweating through your shirt, thanking every deity that you had remembered to put deodorant on this morning.

The case had gone really well. The unsub was in custody and the victims were safe. Morgan had been whining about pulling a muscle in his shoulder since the showdown but Emily shut him up with her teasing. The team decided to all go out to a local bar called 'the tavern'. Penelope had been enthusiastic about celebrating another finished case and persuaded Hotch to come out with the team, leaving the paperwork for another night. A decision he would soon come to regret.

Here he sat, in a dingy bar, on a sticks booth cushion, gripping a, now warm, glass of mediocre scotch like it was a lifeline. His eyes were locked on you, the way your hips moved as you danced across the floor of the bar, the way your hair flew back and forth as you spun, the pinkish flush on your cheeks from the drinks and the activity you were engaged in.

Hotch's hand clenched around his glass, condensation gathering at the sides of his fingers. He couldn't stand the way the men here looked at you. Like you were a prize to be won. A toy that they could pick up and play with and throw away when they're bored. You didn't deserve to be treated like that. You didn't deserve to be thought about like that. Hotch tried to treat you well, he did his best. He made sure you ate enough during the day, made sure you got enough sleep at night, made sure you were comfortable and taken care of. You deserved that.

You had been so excited to join the line dance when your favorite song came on. You'd nearly jumped out of your seat, rushing to the floor to get into the same rhythm as the other drunken dancers in the bar. Hotch barely had a chance to grapple with the loss of your perfume in his nostrils, the heat of your body next to his, the excited chatter that flowed across him as you gossiped with JJ before you were gone.

You liked to jokingly claim that you were 'a country girl at heart' and tease Aaron into being 'your cowboy'. You even convinced Jack to get into country music.

"Come on Jack Jack! You gotta feel the music!" You grinned, dancing around the living room while a twangy banjo played through your speaker, a song Aaron was sure he couldn't name. Jack danced right along with you. Aaron watched from the doorway, his smile widening when you finally catch a glimpse of him, dancing over to him and bumping his hip with yours. "Do you feel the music in your soul?" You ask, grinning.

"Absolutely not."

Rossi chuckled, making Aaron look over to find him and Morgan staring at him, matching grins on their face.

"Man, you are completely whipped." Derek snorted.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hotch mutters, his eyes trailing back to you.

"You haven't taken your eyes off of her since we walked into this bar." Rossi chortled.

"That's a lie." Hotch grumbled, glaring directly at a young man across the bar, clearly staring at your ass.

"You're right, he did get up once to get her a drink." Derek chides. Aaron rolled his eyes, though maybe they had a point. He couldn't stop himself from watching your movements. Your hands are planted on your hips as you swing them in a circle. You raised one arm in the air swinging it in a circle to imitate a lasso. You had a giddy smile on your face as you shuffled across the floor. Maybe he was a little whipped. Just a little. The song ended and you skipped back to the table.

"Hey cowgirl. Have fun out there?" Derek teased.

"Uh huh. I wish Virginia had more bars like this." You shuffled closer to Hotch on the bench, your thigh pressing against his. He tensed slightly at the contact but you didn't notice. Immediately after he forced himself to relax. She's your girlfriend, idiot. Stop acting like a 12 year old boy with a crush. "How's your scotch?" You asked Aaron, looking up at him with wide eyes, hazy with drunkenness.

"It's alright." Hotch murmured. He was glad you were sitting next to him again, safe from the leering stares from the other men in the bar. He casually slung an arm over the back of the booth, his hand grazing your opposite shoulder.

"Do you want something else to drink?" You asked, completely genuine. You were always like that, putting other first. You wanted to make sure he was comfortable and happy. He deserved that especially after what he's been through.

"No, I'm okay. Actually, we should be leaving soon, don't you think?"

"What? No! Aren't you having fun?"

"Sure, but it's late. We have to get up early to fly back to Quantico."

"Come on Aaron." You complained.

"Yeah, come on Hotch, don't leave yet." Morgan complains.

"I was just gonna go try the mechanical bull over there." You pointed across the bar to where a man was getting launched off the bull.

"Alright, I think we're going." Hotch said, nudging you to get up. You comply immediately, standing from the booth as Hotch follows.

"We'll see you all tomorrow, don't stay out too late." Hotch says to the team.

"Yes, Dad." Emily grins, rolling her eyes. Hotch leads you out of the bar with a hand on your lower back.

"Did you bring me out here to have me all to yourself?" You teased, leaning into him as you grinned up at him. He leaned down a bit, brushing his nose against yours.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." He said, smiling.

"You're such a sap." He chuckled.

"Come on. Let's get you to bed cowgirl."

[puckinghischier]

Crowded

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets nervous in the crowd, but luke is right there to help her out of it

notes: i’m once again throwing a luke fic out into the world. i saw this request in my inbox and immediately thought of the zach bryan concert the boys just went to. i would literally give anything to attend a concert with them. i just KNOW they’re great concert buddies. sorry it’s kinda short, i just didn’t know how to drag it out any longer. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - Character A can tell Character B is getting nervous in a big crowd, so A slips their hand into theirs to help them calm down.

[2.8k]

You had been looking forward to tonight for months. From the second Luke surprised you with the tickets for your birthday, you immediately started planning an outfit, making a playlist, and anticipating the trip.

When he told you his brothers and a few friends were tagging along, it only made you more excited, enjoying every moment you got to spend with your boyfriend’s brothers and their hockey friends.

After the concert, everyone was driving over to stay at the lake house for a few weeks, enjoying as much of the summer together as they can before pre-season training starts. You couldn’t wait to have a few weeks of fun on the water, but also wanted tonight to last as long as it could.

Your excitement grew even more when you found the perfect outfit for the occasion, even buying a matching light-up cowboy hat off of Etsy. You were especially excited for the chance to wear your boots again, not having many excuses to wear them in Jersey.

Luke had his hand planted firmly on the small of your back, making sure not to lose you as you weave through the crowd. You had bought Luke a new shirt for tonight, the orange t-shirt matching the burnt orange color of your dress.

He leads you over to the crowded merchandise stand, telling you to pick whatever you wanted. You struggled, loving every item tacked onto the display board. When you told him you couldn’t decided between a t-shirt and a hoodie, he bought you both before you could even open your mouth to protest, buying himself a hat and t-shirt as well.

“Luke, you just spent over $300 without even batting an eye,” you barked at him, crossing your arms to try and look menacing.

You know Luke could’ve afforded to buy you the entire stand and still not make a dent in his bank account, but you don’t like when he spends large amounts on you for no reason.

“Yeah, so?” he shrugs, taking your elbow and leading you away from the cloth covered table, slinging the clear bag of merchandise over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and huff at him, unfolding your arms and taking his hand, letting him lead you through the sea of bodies.

“’So?’”, you mimicked his response. “You didn’t have to buy half of the merch stand just because it took me more than three seconds to choose which shirt I wanted.”

He glances back at you over his shoulder. “The fact that you didn’t have your mind made up the second you saw the options means you clearly wanted both, so I bought you both.”

You reach over and pinch his side, mildly annoyed with how well he understands the way your brain works.

“Quit pinching me you little gremlin,” Luke hisses out, the nickname being one he uses when you’re being stubborn or annoying.

“Quit spending all of your money on me, you giraffe-man,” you fire back.

You can see his shoulder’s shake, your impromptu nickname for him amusing him.

He doesn’t respond right away, the two of you having made it to the entrance to your seats, walking up to the worker standing under the numbered sign.

The usher instructs you to show your tickets to one of the workers at the bottom of the set of stairs.

When you walk into the arena, you notice how large the space feels, the open floor and mostly empty seats creating the illusion of size.

Luke has to nudge you a bit, reminding you to keep walking, too in awe of the fact you’re actually here.

“Not so unhappy with me spending my money on you now, huh?” he leans down to whisper into your ear, making sure you can hear him over the roaring chatter.

You hit him lightly in the chest, a smirk on his face as the two of you walk down, showing your tickets to the usher once you reach the bottom of the stairs, a bright colored wristband with bold letters spelling out VIP FLOOR printed on each one.

You make your way over to a small, sectioned off area near the main stage, seeing the rest of your group already waiting for the two of you.

Jack is the first one to notice you approaching, his eyes lighting up and arms being slung into the air.

“It’s about time! We were starting to worry the two of you got lost!” he calls out, causing the rest of the group to turn their heads and call out greetings.

You smile, having missed those in the group that didn’t live in New Jersey.

Walking over to Quinn first, you give him a long hug, the last time you saw him being when he played his brothers in Jersey months ago. The frequent facetime calls the two of you share not being enough to scratch your Quinn itch.

“Quinnifer! I missed you!” you squeal as you squeeze him as tight as you can.

You can feel his chuckle as he squeezes you back. “I missed you too, Munchkin” he leans back, ruffling your hair.

Although you see Jack nearly every day back home in Jersey, Quinn is the brother you’re closest to. You and Jack are literally two peas in a pod, but there’s something about Quinn that made you feel comfortable with him from the moment Luke introduced the two of you.

He’s like the big brother you never had, always calling him when you need advice or need to complain to someone about Luke.

Anytime you have a particularly nasty argument with Luke, Quinn is the one you call. He always allows you say whatever you need to get out of your system before breaking the problem down and agreeing that his brother is an idiot, but that he also loves you with everything he has in him.

At first you tried to go to Jack with problems surrounding your relationship with Luke, but he clearly didn’t know how to help you. He either told Luke about your conversations, causing the argument to grow worse because Luke claimed Jack had no business knowing about what’s happening in your relationship, or he would shrug his shoulders and say “just don’t yell at him when I’m trying to sleep. I need my beauty rest.”

You swat Quinn’s hand away, trying to smooth down your now tousled hair.

“I see you dressed the goon, tonight,” he points out Luke’s orange shirt.

You turn your head to see him talking with Cole.

“Believe it or not, it was his idea,” you think back to after you bought your dress, trying it on for Luke once you came home from shopping with your girls. He loved the way you looked in it, his eyes widening the second you emerged from your walk-in closet.

He swallowed thickly, his gravelly voice choking out a “Did they happen to have a matching shirt? Because if you’re wearing that, I’m going to need something to match so everyone knows you’re there with me, not up for grabs.”

You blush at the memory, looking back over to Quinn.

“I always knew he was whipped, but damn you’ve got him down bad, huh?” he shakes his head, smiling in amusement.

“Wrapped around my little finger,” you hold up your pinky, wiggling it at Quinn with a giggle.

You feel a pair of arms snake their way around your waist, a heavy object resting itself on top of your head.

“What’s wrapped around your little finger?” Luke asks, his chin bumping against your scalp as he talks.

“You, duh,” you reply, moving your head forward and craning your neck to look up at him.

He looks between you and his older brother before uttering out a “Oh one hundred percent. Couldn’t unravel myself if I even wanted to,” he lets go of you, stepping up to stand beside you.

Quinn just laughs, bringing Luke in for a hug.

After you make your way around to greet everyone, the lights are dimming and the atmosphere inside of the arena changes.

You love the hum of excitement in the air, finding Luke and standing in front of him. You hear the first notes of Overtime as Zach Bryan comes onto the stage, screaming as loud as you possibly can.

Luke has a content, amused smile on his face as you scream out the lyrics, jumping and dancing around as the beat allows.

As the concert goes on, you make the switch from dancing with Luke to dancing with Jack, attempt to get on Quinn’s shoulders to get Zach’s attention, and slinging your arm over Cole’s shoulder to sway back and forth with him during one of the slower songs.

When it comes time for Zach to sing Revival, your favorite song of his, you beg Luke to leave your secluded area to get closer to the stage, wanting to experience being in the crowd for this one particular song.

He looks at you apprehensively, eyeing the large sea of people on top of one another, barely any room between the bodies pressed together. He worries about losing you in the crowd, your small frame allowing you to get swept away easily.

You tug on his arm like a little kid, repeating “please, please, please,” over and over again, assuring him you’ll be fine.

Luke eventually gives in, letting his brothers know where you two are going, claiming you’ll meet back up with them after the concert.

Grabbing your hand, Luke leads you off of the small platform and into the crowd, pushing his way as far up to the front as his large body will allow him.

You stop just a row or two of people away from the stage where Zach had just climbed onto, adjusting his guitar and microphone before starting the song.

As the song rang out around you, you sang along to every word, joining the rowdy crowd as the chorus starts.

You start to jump around in the small space you have, enjoying every second, until Zach walks his way over to the small portion of stage in front of where you stand.

As soon as his figure stands over the crowd around you, bodies start pushing against one another, everyone trying to get as close to him as they can. You feel yourself being shifted towards the metal barricade, not being able to fight against the rush of people.

You start panicking, whipping your head from side to side to find Luke. All you can see around you are strangers, not being able to move your body to look behind you. You have absolutely no control over your own body anymore, being stuck in-between a girl slightly taller than you and a man that has at least a hundred pounds on you.

Squeaking out a “excuse me,” and “can you let me out please?” you try to make your exit from the suffocating situation. Your eyes turn frantic when you realize that no one can hear you or cares to hear you. Your breath picks up, heart pounding in your chest.

You can feel the tears pricking in your eyes, not being able to regulate your breathing anymore, gasping hot air into your lungs as fast as you can.

You’re about to let out a scream, begging someone to pay attention to you and let you out of the mess you’re in, when you feel a familiar hand slip its way into yours.

Whipping your head around, you catch a glimpse of curly hair behind you, not realizing that the body pressed against your back has been Luke this entire time. You figured you had lost him when you were surged forward, unable to see him anywhere around you.

Your breath starts to slow slightly, knowing you’re not alone in this crowd easing some of your nerves. The feeling of your heart pounding is still present, not wanting to be in this situation one second longer.

Luke attempts to tug your body back towards him, but the impenetrable wall of people around you prevents him from doing so.

You manage to wiggle your way in a circle somehow, now facing Luke.

He takes one look at your frightened face and knows he has to get you out of here, now.

Pulling you towards him, he cages you in with is arms, your cheek pressed to his chest. He starts walking backwards, his hockey roots coming in handy as he all but body checks people out of his way. The two of you finally make it to the back of the large crowd, Luke not letting go of you until you were back over in your original section.

Quinn was watching the whole thing from the small platform he was stood on, about to walk over and fish you out himself before he noticed Luke’s head slowly moving backwards, away from the stage.

He can see you’re still shaken, walking over to meet the two of you at the top of the ramp.

“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Quinn asks, concerned about how frightened even Luke’s face looks right now.

“No, she’s fine. Just shaken up, I think. She got trapped between a random girl and some dude at least triple her size,” he tells Quinn, running his hand down your hair in soothing motions. Your hands were still clutching his t-shirt, not wanting to let go of him just yet.

Quinn stares at your trembling figure the whole time, knowing you don’t want to leave Luke’s embrace but wishing he could do something to help you.

“Let’s get her out of here and to the car, yeah?” Quinn suggests, picking up yours and Luke’s bag of merchandise off of the floor of the platform.

Luke just nods, leading you back down the ramp.

Quinn steps over and let’s everyone know to just meet them in the parking garage before following yours and Luke’s intertwined bodies towards the nearest exist.

Luke manages to get you up the stairs and out into the outer ring of the arena without letting you go. Both pairs of your feet moving in tandem, not once risking tripping over one another.

He leads you out of the doors and into the cool night air.

You finally allow yourself to leave his embrace, instantly feeling better in the openness of the outdoors. Never letting go of his hand, you continue to let him lead you to the large garage.

Luke’s BMW sits right where he parked it, the loud beep echoing in the dark garage as he unlocks it.

He opens the passenger door, lifting you slightly to sit you down on the leather seat. His hands come up to your cheeks, his thumbs wiping the stray hairs that were sticking to the damp skin under your eyes.

“All good now?” he asks you, the frantic look of your eyes now gone.

You nod, looking into his concerned eyes. “M’alright. Just got scared. Too many people,” you mumble out, leaning into Luke’s palm slightly. “Sorry I made us go out there. Just wanted to have fun.”

Luke leans his forehead against yours, shaking it back and forth slightly. “No, it’s not your fault. Just bad timing is all,” he assures you, knowing how upset you’re going to be when you realized you missed most of the last song.

He pulls his head back, standing back to his full height outside of the SUV.

You notice Quinn standing a few feet away, letting you and Luke have your space.

Frowning, you call out to the eldest Hughes. “You didn’t have to leave early too, Quinny.”

Quinn looks over when he hears you address him, walking closer to the vehicle.

“Ehh, show was almost over anyways,” he waves you off. “Had to make sure my favorite little munchkin was okay,” he shrugs, telling you its no big deal.

You smile at him, thankful you not only have your boyfriend to look out for you, but Quinn as well.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. Both of you,” you look between the two brothers, only ever seeing how alike they look when they’re standing in front of you.

They both tell you it’s not necessary, the main priority being that you’re safe and sound outside of the arena.

“Fine, I guess that means neither of you want to stop for post-concert pancakes on the way to the lake, then?” you tease, watching both of their heads snap up. All three brothers’ secret love of sweets is something you use to your advantage, only ever having to mention how good ice creams sounds before Luke and Jack are ushering you out of the door and driving you to the nearest ice-cream shop.

“Well, I guess if you really just feel the need to do something nice for us…” Quinn trails off, making a smile break out on your face, unable to hide the laugh at the sudden switch up.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you continue to laugh at the pair, Luke leaning in to buckle your seatbelt for you as Quinn climbs in the backseat, sending a quick text to the rest of your group, telling them if they want to join in on the pancake outing, they need to be making their way out of the arena, and fast.

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Werewolf!engineer intern male reader who has just been hired in werewolf!charles second year at ferrari, they never seem to end up in the same room and charles' first time hearing his voice is over radio that one time when said radio wasn't properly calibrated until bryan fixed it since then he's been trying to find whats obviously his destined mate which doesn't go as planned since by then its already been a few years and reader got a job offer as redbull engineer after two years at ferrari, in which he meets charles at a padel game max invited him to.

Echos of fate||werewolf!Charles Leclerc x werewolf!Male!reader

Word count- 897

A/n- I’m not gonna lie this is rough

The first time Charles hears his mate’s voice, it’s through the radio—static-filled and slightly distorted, but unmistakably right.

“Charles, your telemetry coming in delayed—adjust brake bias before the next turn.”

The second time is smooth, and calm, carrying a quiet confidence that makes something deep in Charles’s chest tighten. A low hum starts in the back of his mind, his wolf stirring from where it’s been resting, ears pricking up at something familiar, something important.

He blinks, adjusting a switch on his wheel. “Who is this?”

A pause. Then, slightly sheepish, “Oh—uh, Bryan had to fix the radio. Sorry for the delay, I’m Y/N.”

Y/N.

Charles exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head as he approaches the next turn. The sensation lingers like a thread pulling tight between his ribs. It’s distracting, annoying, but also—right.

When the race is over, he makes a point to ask Bryan about the voice.

“Oh, Y/N? He’s an intern engineer. Just got hired,” Bryan says. “Knows his stuff, though.”

Charles files that information away. He spends the next few weeks trying to catch a glimpse of him, to match a face to the voice that haunts his thoughts.

But it’s like chasing shadows.

Y/N is never in the same room. He’s always in the other garage, working with mechanics, in meetings, or traveling for different projects.

It drives Charles insane.

His wolf paced, restless beneath his skin, irritated at the way their schedules never align. There are moments—almost moments—where he catches a flash of movement in the paddock and hears a laugh that might be his, but by the time Charles turns, Y/N is gone.

His name lingers in his mind like a whispered secret.

And then, one day—

“Y/N took a job at Red Bull,” Bryan tells him offhandedly. “Good for him. Big opportunity.”

Charles's stomach twists with anxiety. He clenches his jaw, nods, and forces himself to swallow the frustration clawing at his throat. He feels sick. How could he have his soulmate so close to him only to be torn away? Charles's wolf is growing restless and relentless; there’s no telling when he will see Y/N again. That thought causes his wolf to let out a gut-wrenching howl—loud and painful enough to make Charles flinch.

The next two years pass by agonizingly slow for Charles. He becomes more agitated than usual, gets into more fights and becomes more aggressive.

His friendship with Max has grown stronger these past two years. Max understands what Charles is going through as he experienced something similar when Leo, his mate, does not recognize Max as his mate. So Max stuck by Charles for the last two years being there for him in any way he could.

“I don’t know about this” Charles grumbled at Max who he was on Facetime. Max had called inviting him to play a paddle with him. But Charles didn’t want to leave the comfort of his home. He didn’t want to have to deal with a bunch of other wolves getting hyped up which usually led to fights breaking out between them.

“It’s just for fun,” Max says, rolling his eyes. “I invited some of the Red Bull guys too—don’t start fights.”

Charles scoffs. “I don’t start fights.”

Max raises a brow. “Tell that to your wolf.”

Fair point. Charles has been irritable, and restless, ever since that stupid voice over the radio. It’s ridiculous. He never even met Y/N, never spoke to him outside of those fleeting moments, but something inside him has never settled.

So he agrees to padel, hoping to burn off some of the energy simmering under his skin.

What he doesn’t expect is this.

The second he steps onto the court, something hits him. A scent—clean, sharp, warm—something that makes his wolf’s ears perk up instantly.

The hum in his chest, the restless itch that’s haunted him for years, suddenly snaps into something tangible.

Charles stops walking.

His head turns sharply, gaze locking onto a man stretching near the net.

Toned arms. Tousled hair. A Red Bull logo on his shirt. His skin glows under the sunlight, his form relaxed, completely unaware of the storm he just sent through Charles’s system.

And then—

He speaks.

“Max, I’m just saying, you cheat at Padel.”

Charles’s breath catches.

It’s him.

The voice. The one that haunted him for two years.

Y/N glances over, sensing the stare, and their eyes meet. Y/n’s wolf is now relentlessly pacing back and forth in his mind.

Charles’s pulse stutters.

Shock flickers across Y/N’s features, but then his lips curve into something amused. “Uh. Hi?”

It takes everything in Charles not to move instantly. His wolf howls in recognition, instinct screaming at him to go, now, take, claim—

Charles swallows it down, clenches his fists at his sides, and forces himself to stay still.

Max mutters, “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Charles ignores him.

Y/N tilts his head, gaze sharp, studying him the same way Charles is studying him. There’s something in his eyes—a flicker of recognition, confusion, like maybe, just maybe, he feels it too.

And Charles?

Charles has been looking for him for years.

There’s no way in hell he’s letting him slip away again.

[otsukare-katsukare]

The AEW Wrestling Tarot

unfortunately im back on my wrestling tarot bullshit again (aew only edition this time). my supercard pack never arrived :( so i have to make my own fun. and even worse ive started drawing recreationally again which means theres a chance i may actually try to make this oh dear. anyway. i think i finally, finally have a major arcana im satisfied with and im ready for this to be another 0 note classic but truly if anybody has thoughts and opinions, i wanna hear them:

The Fool: Harley Cameron. I feel like I was waiting so long for a perfect Fool wrestler to appear and no one had quite the right combination of wide-eyed innocent glee, creativity and clear stonking potential. Harley has Jester Qualities, she basically annoyed her way into a TNT title match, she is a woman of many talents most of them creative and entertaining, she's funny, she's original and most importantly she's only just getting started. Godspeed dear Fool.

The Magician: The only reason it's not Kenny is because he's needed elsewhere but really, Will Ospreay is a good fit for this. again, aesthetically it works cause he's got that Assassins Creed overcoat and when he puts his hands out idk it's giving wizard a bit. and then there's the way he's mastered the craft, and is able to produce acts of what look like pure witchcraft with scientific precision. pure confidence, skill and the right amount of hubris to make this very Magician-coded.

The High Priestess: Hear me Out. Renee Paquette. This was the hardest one, even when I was doing this for WWE, AEW and any other active wrestlers I could think of. it's just not a wrestling personality profile, "divine feminine" and inner wisdom and truth and clarity and detachment. clearly there's a gap in the market for this kind of character in wrestling, but so far and at least in aew, all I've seen from the wrestlers themselves are action-oriented hot heads who do very little if any introspection. and it's not quite that Renee does that introspection herself, but she is the conduit for it, right? she is the closest they have to an unbiased truth seeker. despite being literally married to one of the most violent and unhinged members of the roster! whenever revelations are had, parts of the inner worlds of these people that they may have otherwise never shown, either she coaxes it out of them or it happens in her presence. i need to unravel it a bit more but I like this for her I think. and again if anyone has a better high priestess i am all ears.

The Emperess: Emi Sakura. Not a whole lot to this choice other than Emi being the nurturer of the roster, the closest to both a "mom" and someone who actively helps bring the next generation of wrestlers to fruition, like the Empress tending her garden and many children.

The Emperor: Christian Cage, again this is a pretty open and shut book I think, he's literally called the Patriarch. Don Callis also came to mind for this, but Cage has a much more explicit Obey Your Father thing going on, Don is quite openly much more of a blatant opportunist.

The Hierophant: One of my revelations after much soul searching today. It's Bryan Danielson, and the BCC as a whole, as it was originally meant to be, an ideology of wrestling that was supposed to bring it back to its simple, glorious roots. Bryan, like some of these nurturers before him, has focused much more on the future of wrestling than himself, eager to leave a mark on it by virtue of creating the next generation in his image. He also carries this reverance around him, particularly from a subset of the fandom with quite pointed views about what wrestling is/should be - but he himself is sort of painfully human, emphatically not the god of wrestling but a vessel for divine teaching. or something.

The Lovers: Kenny Omega and Kota Ibushi do I really have to explain myself here. I don't but if you're even reading this post I bet you scrolled to this point just to check I made them the lovers so you'll want something. There are no soulmates in wrestling like these two. No two who, while having completely distinct and phenomenal careers of their own, have told such a long, aching story of love transcending time and space and circumstance, of waiting for each other and holding onto that love, and of having been transformed by each other, inspired to be their best selves. all that could be their story without it also being an explicitly queer love story by the way, but that's also what it is. i cant go on anymore my feelings are getting mushy

The Chariot: Mercedes Mone. FOUR BELTS MONE BABY! RIDE the mone train. Etc. The Chariot is a triumphant victory lap, rubbing it in the faces of your enemies that you made it suckaahs. is one of those cards that could sort of be any wrestler who's "made it" really, and Mercedes hasnt even won the Women's World Championship yet, but she so perfectly exemplifies the spirit of this card, the sheer domineering ego and bombastic success of it. Truly a Girlboss Card. And her chariot's still a-rolling!

Strength: Eddie Kingston. Strength is about heart above all. Also very hard to pin down to one passionate babyface, one underdog who forges a deep emotional connection with the audience that carries them through their fight, one wrestler who just emanates that inspiring strength of body and mind and soul, but Eddie feels right here. hardened on the outside by a cruel world, but the beating heart of the whole place underneath that. grounded, relatable, honest and good in his soul. Specifically, his journey to winning the Continental Classic is on my mind here as a classic Strength story in wrestling.

The Hermit: Darby Allin. A late switchup here, as I had Darby as Death for a long time, mostly for aesthetic reasons. but really, he is the quiet loner who hangs back, who only ever found kinship with another loner like him. The Hermit is a card about solitude and reflection and, respectfully, Darby is currently literally away on a months-long journey of self-improvement up Mount Everest. Only a Hermit Wrestler could do that. Don't know if he's going to have gotten any wiser by the time he comes back and if he'll stop throwing himself off genuinely dangerous apparatus, but we will see!

The Wheel of Fortune: Moving from just wrestlers to more conceptual cards, this is The Elite but it's also specifically them as the catalyst for AEW. Wheel of Fortune is about the winds of change and upheaval, exciting new fortunate things on the horizon, luck that may just be on your side. The Elite, quite famously, made a bet, on themselves. It's paid off. But if not the Elite as a whole, this feels particulalry like the Young Bucks' card, those defiant agents of chaos who changed the whole industry by taking risks.

Justice: It's Aubrey Edwards. Justice is fairness, law and order, cause and effect and action and consequence. Vengeance doesn't count, it's gotta be objective. Sorry wrestlers, none of you fit this at all, it has to go to a referee, and why not the top referee of the company?

The Hanged Man: Wheeler Yuta. Look. LOOK. Do you think I wanted it this way either. The Hanged Man is my favourite card, Hangman is my favourite wrestler, he look so pretty hanging upside down with his long blond hair all floating by his face but I'm sorry he's not the hanged man at all, Yuta is. It's a card of stasis, sacrifice, uncertainty, imprisonment - where is Yuta right now! He is completely wrapped up in those ropes, unable to move forward or backwards, made the sacrificial lamb again and again, told every time that the sacrifice is worth it, that all his bridges being burned is worth it, and yet never managing to win anything for himself. His arc will ultimately need him to break out of his prison.

Death: Jon Moxley. Another guy who has floated all around this arcana until, after moving Darby up to hermit status, I realised yeah this fits Mox way more actually. He is, I think, the wrestler whose resurrection in AEW after his previous life is most like a death, first of all. Danielson is the same as Daniel Bryan, Kenny's Kenny wherever he goes, but Dean Ambrose is dead. And Jon Moxley is haunted. He also seems to see himself like a kind of memento mori, especially now, taking a grim sort of pleasure in reminding his foes who get to big for their boots of their mortality. Starting with the aforementioned Danielson. More than any other, he is furious for change. Either change, adapt, or fall at his hands. That is Death if ever I saw it.

Temperance: Similar potential problems with this card as with the High Priestess, but fortunately, Orange Cassidy exists. The rock-solid calm of him, the sheer incongruousness of his blue-shaded serenity as he sidles up to the ring. He's not a perfect paragon of temeprance by any means, he summons fire when he needs it in almost every match, but moving him to real anger felt like like an accomplishment from Mox when it happened. A bad accomplishment. He's as temperate as wrestlers get, I think, and he seems to spread that even keel to the people he spends time with, like the wrestling version of a capybara.

The Devil: MJF. Next.

The Tower: This one's also more of an event than a single wrestler (mostly cause making any one wrestler The Tower feels like a dig, like your thing is crashing and burning spectacularly. Owch) but it belongs mostly to Swerve Strickland and the visual of his house going up in flames, with everything in that hellishly destructive feud that represents. It's really what they did to each other more than just what Hangman did to Swerve that night, and the imagery of houses and homes (invaded, immolated, claimed) running through their feud really fits the Tower aesthetically as well.

The Star: Toni Storm! There's once again an aesthetic bonus because she is a starlet of course. I've historically found The Star a little difficult to differentiate from Strength when applying it to wrestling, both seem to invite those hope-inspiring underdog stories. But having it be represented by Toni I think brings out the more artistic, inspirational aspect of the Star, and the sense that it's really about faith. There's the faith Toni has in herself, in the story she tells about herself, that ultimately becomes true in a strange way only possible in wrestling, and then there's the faith she ultimately inspires in all of us. May she shine on forever.

The Moon: when i first was putting this together, it was Malakai Black and the House of Black, but now it's Julia Hart. The Moon is mystery, the unknown that lies in the shadows, as well as lunar insanity, giving into your darker, hidden self. The black mist is very moon-ish, and Julia seems to embody the witchy, unnerving demonic quality of this card the most. *

The Sun: Willow Nightingale. Sun's all about optimism and celebrating life. This is a vibes card, and I just needed to think who is the sunniest wrestler on the roster? and it was quite an easy pick, really. Whoever's smile is the most radiant is a good hint.

Judgement: Here's Adam Page. Judgement is revelation, a calling, rising up to meet your destiny and embrace the change, redemption, forgiveness. In other words, it's main character shit. And it's exactly the story that Hangman has been telling since he got here. He basically did complete it at Full Gear 2021 when he won the AEW title, and that's the image that this card would draw on, but he's just now embarking on what might be an even greater redemption arc, one that sees him rediscover himself having gone down a far darker parth than he ever did before.

The World: EITHER this is the AEW World Championship or it's Sting's retirement match. I'm kind of leaning towards the latter for something more heartfelt and specific that really communicates this card's meaning of completion, accomplishment and endings.

*there's another very different route one could go down for the Moon, which also means deception, false identity and betrayal - in which case this is Adam Cole lmao. He's not very Moon-ish in his aesthetic though, and aesthetic is quite important in these matters.

[oplishin]

back on my bryan danielson bullshit but also Busy so here's my match notes unformatted. bryan vs roddy at ROH this means war 2005

gayer than i expected. i enjoyed the structure. bryan works roddy over for like 20 minutes. unfortunately roddy never ends up doing anything interesting with the arm/knee work, but it's not really an issue. i like that what opens bryan up for a roddy come back is the simplest of moves- the chop. the first time roddy hits it, bryan gets ticked off and rolls out of hte ring. a chop is what allows roddy to land the backbreaker, switching the tide of the match. what ends up getting him though, is that bryan is just a superior mat wrestler. everytime they get down, bryan ends up on top. bryan's proud, though, and a complete dick. so he ends up getting into a striking contest that he utterly loses. roddy knocks him out, but bryan comes back ticked off and even more of a dick then ever. he gets roddy in a submission, and roddy taps instantly. kind of a weird ending. special shoutout to the bryan hearing the crowd chant "over here" and taking the time to respond and then flip them all off skndfnkj

[fragile-teacup]

‘I met Bryan Fuller, and he pitched me—not three seasons—he pitched me ten seasons within two hours. It was insane what he was talking about. And I immediately understood that this man has absolutely no borders. I thought it was a fantastic match, and I wasn’t wrong. He’s a brilliant, genius writer. So that was a different animal. I was very, very happy to be part of that. And I’m very proud of it.’

~ Mads talking about Hannibal

[flowery-mess]

Just a dad Noah thought...

I think I sent this once to @starsomens as an ask, but I can't stop thinking about it lol

Imagine having a baby boy with Noah, after some time he starts going to shows with you with his big noise canceling headphones on. Everything is cute, Bryan takes cute family pictures for you, little waves from the baby to fans, until... he becomes a toddler and wants to be just like his dad.

Wears those fake tattoo sleeves, matching outfits, makes up words for BO song, until one day.

You and Noah are chilling in the living room, little Sebastian toddler comes in, in his black outfit with those tattoos on and wants to pretend that he's Noah at a show, so you and Noah are pretending to be fans, laughing and all that, until this little human you two created screams "THIS IS DETHRONE YOU FUCKS" into your faces and then takes off to his room with evil laugh, because he knows what he just said.

You and Noah just turn to each other, not sure if you should laugh or not and eventually you do.

And I'm pretty sure if you tell that to the rest BO crew they will demand performance from your little human every time they see him and because they are the 'funny uncles' they will let him say curse words when you and Noah aren't in the room. And he loves that.

[grandpa-kita]

My honest reactions to my favourite Beyblade ships, tropes and some plot ideas I have in my mind but probably will never see the light

In honour of Mayblade 2025. These are my personal preferences, but I would love to hear yours too!

Yuriy x Kai slow burn from enemies to friends to lovers during G-Rev World Tournament, my comfort Beyblade plot to read in bed with cozy scented candles, comfy pillows and tea

Yuriy x Kai, this time an utterly painful slow burn after BEGA arc, with Yuriy recovering and finding out that Kai really joined the BEGA and Volkov and not wanting to talk to him or have him in Neoborg anymore and Kai going the extra mile to prove to him that he cares and realising he has always cared more than he imagined. No cozy candles, only tissues

Kai x Yuriy (x Garland), with Yuriy and Garland one day being arch enemies and the next being like oooops we kissed in the lift by mistake but we still deeply hate each other and Kai eventually discovering what being jelous means and taking very concrete actions

Yuriy x Julia who ignore each other until the very last week of the World Tournament and then end up in a hotel room and the morning after are both in utter disbelief because "why on earth would I share my space with this Spanish nuisance" and "why on earth would I kiss the most obnoxious blader of the whole tournament"

Yuriy x Julia but this time they end up in the room early on in the tournament as a way to de-stress after a match and writing it off as temporary and based only on physical attraction, but then they start to actually talk in bed and get to know each other better and by the time the final comes they are completely smitten

Yuriy x Julia but with Garland hitting on Julia and Julia giving him an occasion for a split second which sends Yuriy in a spiral of trauma-led self sabotage because she deserves better but then she is back because she fell hard for him and he fell for her too and aaaAAAHHH

Kai x Takao/Tyson as soulmates who have been battling for years and thought it was a sport obsession but then realised they've actually been obsessed with each other

Kai x Hiromi/Hilary in adult life or very late Beyblading days with Hiromi/Hilary who has had entangled feelings for Kai since the days in V-Force but realised it only years later and I am absolutely weak for how peaceful and balanced this relationship has always sounded to me despite Hiromi/Hilary's temper around Takao/Tyson or Daichi

Kai x Brooklyn in a post-GRev World Tournament, there is something twisted about it in my opinion, but I would still read it

Bonus: Boris/Bryan seducing Ming Ming only to take his own revenge for the whole BEGA thing and eventually winning her over one evening and nobody could have ever imagined this but oh my, sparks fly in that room

[giveafike]

Twinkling Tales - B.T.S

TLDR: night drive w your darling boyfriend, Ben. This is part 8/12 of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 5k + dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! No warnings : )

Azzie Notes ✚: only one third left to go! Oh goodness, where did the time go?? These next few are gonna be quite the cutesy, kissy, smoochy ones - hope u enjoy! Super romantic shtuff as the holidays and the idea of family really starts getting to Benny <3

————————————————————————

Ben’s bedroom was warm and quiet, the soft hum of the heater blending with the occasional creak of the house settling. It was just the four of you now, Emma and Alex took their leave in the morning for some "private time", whatever that had entailed. Lisa and Bryan are downstairs somewhere, leaving you and Ben cocooned in the privacy of his room.

You lay sprawled across his chest, the plaid of your pyjama pants brushing against his, matching perfectly with the navy tops he’d bought for the two of you weeks ago. The scent of his cologne lingered faintly on his shirt, a clean, woodsy comfort you’d grown to associate with him. One of his hands absently combed through your hair, fingertips occasionally trailing along your scalp, lulling you into a cozy stillness. Around the room, bits of Ben’s past clung to the walls and shelves; posters of tennis and NFL legends, a few wrinkled, aged post-its on the mirror and desk, and books that charted the years of his life. Your gaze caught on a shelf where Diary of a Wimpy Kid books sat next to heavier finance textbooks from college, the juxtaposition making you smile.

“You really had it all, huh?” you teased lightly, pointing over to the well-worn book spines. “From Greg Heffley to… whatever these numbers mean.”

Ben chuckled, not bothering to look up from his phone. “What can I say? I’ve got layers, babe.”

You smiled, shifting a little to get more comfortable against him, your cheek pressed against his chest as you lazily traced the seams of his shirt. His breathing was steady beneath you, and his fingers continued their soothing path through your hair.

A quiet “Oh, woah... shoot,” broke the moment as Ben tapped at his phone screen.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him. “What?”

“They set up the Christmas lights drive-thru already,” he said, tilting the screen toward you so you could see an Instagram story of a mutual friend’s car rolling through a glowing tunnel of lights. Reds, greens, and golds blurred in the video, capturing the festive chaos of it all.

“That’s so cool,” you murmured, resting your chin on his chest to get a better look, eyes half-lidded.

Ben nudged you gently, his voice soft. “Yo, you with me?”

“I’m here,” you replied, smiling sleepily as you glanced up at him. “Barely, though. This head massage is putting me out.”

He smirked, locking his phone and tossing it onto the nightstand. “Well, stay with me for one more minute. Got an idea.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh no. Do I even want to know?”

“How about a late-night drive?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes earnest.

You blinked, the suggestion catching you off guard. “Now?”

Ben shrugged casually, but his smile grew. “Yeah. Just us. Fresh air, Christmas lights, good vibes.”

You hesitated, looking at him. “You just want an excuse to show off the G-Wagon, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a small laugh. “But mostly, I just wanna spend some time with you. Come onnn baby, what do you say?”

“Urgh, Ben,” you groaned, half-burying your face in his chest. “I don’t want to get dressed. It’s so cozy and warm in here.”

Ben chuckled, fingers still playing with your hair as he shifted slightly beneath you. “Then don’t,” he said simply.

You glanced up at him, skeptical. “What do you mean, don’t?”

“I mean exactly that. Stay like this. We’ll match in our PJs,” he said, grinning as if the thought was brilliant. “Just throw a coat on if you’re cold. You’ll still look cute, as always.”

You raised a brow. “You’re really not letting this go, huh?”

He smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Nope. Come on, my baby. Let’s go.”

With a resigned sigh, you rolled off him, and the two of you made your way downstairs. The house felt quieter now, with Lisa and Bryan the only other ones left at home. As you reached the bottom step, Bryan popped his head out from the living room, eyeing Ben like a hawk.

“Where you headed?” Bryan asked, leaning casually against the wall.

“Just for a quick drive,” Ben said, slipping his hand around your waist.

Bryan’s gaze softened as it flicked to you with a smile, and he nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he eyed the matching pjs. “Be safe. That’s precious cargo you’re carrying there.”

Ben smiled back, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll always take care of her. Always be my best for her.”

Bryan gave him a small nod of approval before retreating into the living room.

You tugged Ben’s arm, leading him toward the garage. “Precious cargo, huh?” you teased.

Ben smirked. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

When you stepped into the garage, Ben walked ahead to the car, unlocking the car with a beep, but then stopped and leaned with his back against it, his eyes soft as they settled on you, watching you tug one of his old zip-up hoodies onto your smaller frame.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, the words quiet but heavy.

You tilted your head, confused. “Ben, I’ve been right here.”

“Yeah, but not just you,” he clarified, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “I miss being around just you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and before you could respond, he stepped forward, wrapping his hands around your face, his thumbs brushing gently along your jawline. He kissed you then, slow and sweet, but there was a longing in it that made your knees weak. His lips moved against yours like he was trying to make up for lost time, and you melted into him, your hands clutching the soft fabric of his cotton shirt.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours as his breath mingled with yours in the cool garage air. He lingered a moment, looking at you like he didn’t want to let you go, before finally opening the passenger door for you.

You smiled softly at him before you climbed into the passenger seat, and before you could even settle in, Ben leaned over again, his hand brushing your hoodie aside to sneak around your waist as he kissed you again. This one was deeper, more desperate, his lips moving fervently against yours as though he needed you to know how much you meant to him, pushing you against the headrest. Your hand instinctively cupped his face, and as you gently broke the kiss with a giggle, he leaned into your palm, his lashes fluttering closed. His lips pressed softly to the centre of your hand, and when he opened his eyes, there was nothing but tenderness in his gaze.

“I love you so, so much,” he murmured, the words low and reverent.

Your heart swelled, and you smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek, mumbling an 'i-love-you' back before he finally straightened up and made his way to his seat.

As Ben buckled in and started the car, you glanced over at him, curious. “What was that second kiss for?”

Ben smirked, his eyes flicking toward you before focusing on reversing out of the driveway. “I just needed to, didn't get enough the first time. What, I can’t kiss my girlfriend now? ”

You rolled your eyes, but a soft smile tugged at your lips. “You can, but that one felt… different.”

“Different how?” he teased, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something more serious.

You shrugged, trying to put it into words. “I don’t know. Just felt… extra.”

He chuckled as he turned onto the main road, the faint hum of the heater filling the comfortable silence. “Maybe because it was,” he admitted after a beat. “Sometimes I just can’t help it. You make me want to kiss you all the time.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you glanced out the window to hide your grin.

The roads were clear, the snow from the past days now a mushy slush on the shoulders, but the air still carried that crisp, wintry bite. Ben drove at an easy pace, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. He looked so at ease, but there was a spark in his eye like he was up to something.

As Ben guided the car onto quieter streets, the faint glow of Christmas lights decorated the houses you passed. Some were understated, a single wreath or a strand of lights framing the roofline. Others had gone all out, with inflatable Santas and elaborate displays synchronised to music. You leaned back in your seat, your eyes roaming over the decorations, while Ben’s voice became your personal tour guide.

“That house,” he said, pointing to a modest, single-story home with a lone string of flickering icicle lights, “that used to be one of the best on the block. I’m talking full-on winter wonderland. They had those old-school, oversized bulbs that looked like they’d burn your house down if they got too hot.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Guess they’ve toned it down. Probably ran out of steam, time catches up to everyone.”

You tilted your head toward him. “Do you think that’s what happens when you grow up? Your holiday spirit just… fades?”

Ben shrugged, slowing the car as you approached another row of homes. “Maybe. Or maybe you just find different ways to celebrate. It’s still there; it just looks different, y'know?”

He glanced your way, and his lips quirked into a smile before continuing. “Or maybe you just need a reason to light it back up again.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes as warmth spread through you despite the coolness of the night.

As you moved down the road, Ben motioned toward a house with a swing set in the yard. “That’s where Emma and her friends used to set up their lemonade stand every summer.”

“Emma? Selling lemonade?” You grinned at the thought, already amused.

“Oh yeah,” Ben said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And bracelets. They were super into making those friendship bracelets, you know, the ones with the tiny beads and string? She’d make me buy them with my allowance.”

“Did you actually wear them?”

“Pfft, no...not really.” He laughed, tapping his thumb on the wheel. “I’d give her the money and then mysteriously ‘lose’ the bracelet by the next day. I wasn’t gonna walk around with a neon-pink bracelet that said ‘Best Bro.’ forever. She always threatened to never make me one ever again after we'd fight...I'd yell back 'Thank God! Hated it anyways'. But really they're all in a drawer somewhere in my room.”

You laughed, the mental image of a young Ben, begrudgingly supportive yet entirely uninterested, making your chest warm.

“She actually had this whole setup,” Ben continued. “Like a real little businesswoman. She made her friends call her the boss. Wouldn’t let them eat the lemon slices because it ‘cut into profits.’” He shook his head, his laugh deep and affectionate. “It was ridiculous.”

“And yet, you bought into it,” you teased.

“Hey, she’s my sister. What can I say?” Ben grinned, clearly enjoying the stroll down memory lane. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna clown her for it, though. It’s my job as her brother.”

The car crested a small hill, and the neighbourhood gave way to the outskirts of town. Ben pointed to a street corner where a chain pharmacy now stood. “That used to be a candy store,” he said, his voice softening with nostalgia.

“What kind of candy?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“All kinds,” he said, gesturing with one hand as he drove. “They had these huge jars of sour candy that would wreck your tongue if you ate too much. Hershey bars that were somehow fresher than the ones you get now, man I loved them bad. And they always had those peanut butter cups in seasonal shapes. Like, in December, it’d be Christmas trees. Emma and I would race to see who could finish one the fastest without choking.”

You grinned. “Let me guess, you won every time?”

“Obviously.” He shot you a smirk. “She’d get halfway through and start laughing, and then it was game over.”

The car slowed as Ben turned onto Main Street, the downtown area glowing softly under strings of lights that crisscrossed above. He nodded toward a retro-looking diner. “That’s where we used to hang out after school. Back when I didn’t have a license, I’d walk here with Emma and some of her friends. She’d order a massive milkshake every time, and she always made me drink the last bit because she’d get too full.”

“She sounds resourceful,” you said, amused.

“She’s something,” Ben replied, shaking his head with a fond laugh. “But yeah, we had good times there, Dad would sneak us there sometimes if Mom was workin' late or held up at work. Lots of bad decisions were made there, too. Like seeing who could eat the most fries dipped in a chocolate shake before feeling sick.”

“And again, you won, didn’t you?”

“Naturally,” he said again, feigning arrogance.

You leaned back in your seat, your smile lingering as Ben continued pointing out spots that had shaped his childhood: a tree where he once built a makeshift swing with friends, a now-closed theatre where he saw his first movie, a small patch of grass by the elementary school where he fell off his first bike.

With every story, you felt like you were stepping deeper into Ben’s world, seeing the layers of his past that made him who he was. It was simple, yet so intimate, and as the car rolled onward, you reached over to intertwine your fingers with his, giving his hand a small squeeze. He glanced your way, his smile warm and genuine, and you knew he felt the same.

The car’s soft hum filled the air as Ben took a smooth turn, guiding you onto the highway. The town lights dimmed behind you, replaced by stretches of open road and the occasional car passing by. You glanced over at him, the soft glow from the dashboard illuminating his profile, the strong line of his jaw, his hand relaxed on the wheel.

For a while, neither of you spoke. It wasn’t uncomfortable; it was the kind of quiet that felt natural, as though the moment didn’t need words. But then, Ben let out a soft exhale, like he’d been holding onto a thought that he wasn’t sure how to voice.

“You know,” he began, his tone easy but introspective, “I think I forgot what the holidays were supposed to feel like for a while.”

You tilted your head, watching him. “Go on...”

He shifted his grip on the wheel, his thumb tapping lightly against it. “I don’t know. It’s just… these past few years, I’d come home from tour or tournaments, and I’d be so worn out. The holidays just became this time to stop, to rest, to not think about anything. Which is fine, you know? But it was always just… quiet. A little… empty, I guess.”

You frowned slightly, your brows furrowing in concern, but Ben quickly glanced over and shook his head, giving you a soft smile.

“Not really in a bad way, babe,” he reassured. “It’s just that I think I stopped caring about the little stuff, like decorating or traditions. Like had no energy to do anything. Even the big stuff, like feeling excited about Christmas morning.”

He paused for a moment as if considering his words. “But having you here this year? I don’t know… it’s different. Better. It’s like I feel all that magic again. Like, when I see the tree or hear a Christmas song, I don’t just think about how it’s another thing to check off the list or somethin' to tolerate. I actually feel it.”

Your heart softened, and you squeezed his hand. “Oh, Ben…”

He smiled, glancing at you briefly before looking back at the road. “I’m serious. Having you here with my family, it’s like I’m a kid all over again. Like Santa’s real, and I’m trying to catch him in the act or something.”

You laughed lightly, the sound filling the car as you leaned closer to him.

“That’s so silly,” you teased, though your voice was tender.

“Maybe,” he admitted, a slight chuckle escaping him. “But it’s true. You make everything feel… fuller. Like, all those little things that used to seem like a chore, they’re exciting again.”

You looked out the window for a moment, watching the faint glimmers of lights from distant houses as the car sped along the highway, helping you blink back tears. The way Ben spoke, so honest and warm, wrapped around you like a blanket. You turned back to him, your smile soft.

“You’re really gonna make me cry on this drive, Ben,” you said, your voice half-teasing but thick with emotion.

Ben laughed, low and deep, shaking his head. “Hey, I’m just tellin' you the truth.”

He shifted slightly, stealing a glance at you again, his gaze lingering a little longer this time. “I just… I hope you know how much it means to me. You being here. It’s not just about the holidays, either. It’s everything. Like you came here to me. You make things feel lighter, like even the messiest, busiest days aren’t so bad if I know I get to come home to you.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion. Reaching out, you gently placed your hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of him through the sleeve of his shirt. “I know, Ben. And I feel the same way.”

His lips quirked up in that small, crooked smile of his, the one that never failed to make your heart flutter. He gave your hand a quick squeeze where it rested on his arm.

“I don’t say it enough,” he murmured, his tone softer now. “I know I’m not the best with words, but I’m trying to get better. Because you deserve to hear it. You deserve to know how much you mean to me.”

The highway curved ahead, and Ben’s hands stayed steady on the wheel, but his voice carried all the weight of his feelings. “It’s just second nature, you know? Loving you. It’s like breathing, honestly babe.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your composure as his words settled over you. The warmth of his sincerity was overwhelming but in the best way.

“Ben,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I don’t think you realise just how much you mean to me, too. You’re-”

He grinned, interrupting you with a quick laugh. “Careful, you’re about to get sappy on me, and I'm drivin'. Precious cargo, remember?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the grin tugging at your lips. “Says the guy who just gave me a whole movie monologue.”

Ben laughed again, his head tilting back slightly as the sound filled the car. “Okay, fair. You win this one.”

The two of you fell into an easy silence again, the kind that only came when everything felt right. The road stretched ahead, and just as the first distant glow of the drive-thru light show came into view, Ben reached over and threaded his fingers through yours, holding on tightly.

“Hey,” he said, his tone quieter now but just as warm. “I won't say more but....thanks for coming along for the ride. In every sense.”

You smiled, leaning your head against the seat and squeezing his hand back. “Always, Ben. Always.”

Ben leaned over to kiss you, your lips lingering for a moment. His smile widened, and before you knew it, his hand left your thigh to playfully scruff up your hair.

“Ben!” you shrieked, batting at his arm as he laughed.

“What? I’m just showing some love!” he teased, his chuckle low and warm.

“You’re so annoying,” you said, smoothing down your hair, though your own laughter betrayed you.

Ben’s laughter softened into a smile as he let his hand drift to your cheek, cupping it tenderly. His thumb brushed over your skin, and despite still driving, he made the moment feel like it was just the two of you in the world.

“I love you so much,” he said, his voice deep and steady, his eyes flickering between you and the road up to the drive-thru.

Your heart squeezed, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. You placed your hand over his, holding it against your cheek. “I love you too, Ben,” you said, your voice soft but sure.

He gave your cheek a quick, affectionate squeeze before placing both hands back on the wheel, his smile lingering as the glow of the drive-thru lights began to grow brighter.

As you approached, the massive entrance to the light show came into full view. It was unlike anything you’d seen before, a distinctly Floridian take on Christmas, quirky and completely endearing.

The first thing to catch your eye was a giant glowing gator decked out in a Santa hat, lounging with a candy cane between its teeth. Next to it, animatronic palm trees were strung with twinkling green and gold lights, swaying side to side, their trunks wrapped in spiralling patterns. Instead of traditional snowflakes, neon orange slices were hanging from the branches, their vibrant colours popping against the dark sky.

“Okay, this is so Florida,” you said, grinning.

Ben laughed as he slowed the car to a crawl, taking in the scene with a mixture of amusement and appreciation. “Right? Gotta love how we just lean into it.”

Further down, a massive glowing sun-wearing sunglasses and a Santa hat loomed over the pathway, its animated rays waving cheerily at passing cars. Beneath it, Santa was stretched out on a sunbed, sipping from a coconut with a tiny umbrella sticking out. The sign beside him read: “Merry and Bright, Sunshine Style!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sheer absurdity of it all tugging at your heart. “This is so ridiculous! I love it.”

“Ridiculous in the best way,” Ben agreed, his grin widening as he pointed out another display, a beach scene with reindeer building sandcastles, their antlers strung with Christmas lights.

“Look at those reindeer! They’ve got flip-flops on!” you said, your laughter bubbling up as you leaned forward to take it all in.

Ben chuckled, his eyes darting between the road and your delighted expression. “You’re loving this way too much,” he teased, though the way his voice softened gave him away.

The path curved through more displays: dolphins leaping out of a glittering blue ocean, flamingos in Santa suits, and even an orange tree with ornaments shaped like snowflakes. It was silly and over-the-top, but it was also so uniquely Floridian that it warmed you to the core.

“Whoever designed this deserves a raise,” you said as a giant neon Santa waved you through a glowing archway that read “Warm Wishes from the Sunshine State!”

Ben reached over to squeeze your hand again. “Glad I could share it with you. You’re making it even better, you know?”

You turned to him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his voice. “You’re such a softie, Ben,” you said, but your smile gave you away.

“Only for you,” he said, his voice teasing but warm as he guided the car through the final stretch of the light show.

The two of you basked in the glow of the lights, the soft hum of holiday music playing faintly from one of the displays. It was quirky, silly, and completely charming, a perfect little moment shared just between you and Ben, the warmth of his presence making everything feel just right.

As the drive-thru came to its grand finale, the path opened into a small rest area where they sold hot chocolate and offered a “Meet Santa” experience. You and Ben pulled up to the window, where a man in a Santa suit leaned out to greet you, his red hat slightly askew.

“Merry Christmas!” Santa said, extending a gloved hand through the window.

“Merry Christmas!” you both chimed back, grinning like kids.

Ben shook Santa’s hand and, with a completely straight face, said, “Thanks for bringing her to me this year. Best present ever.”

You burst into laughter, covering your face as Santa chuckled warmly. “Well, you’ve been good this year, haven’t you?” Santa said.

Ben winked at you. “Oh, she keeps me in line.”

You rolled your eyes, still laughing as you took the hot chocolates handed to you through the window.

The drive home was quieter, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminating Ben’s face as he focused on the road, ready for the drive home. You sipped your hot chocolate, feeling the warmth seep through the cup and into your fingers.

“Tonight was perfect,” you said softly.

Ben glanced at you, his smile faint but genuine. “Yeah?”

You nodded and sighed contently as the car glided through the quiet night, the world outside a blur of soft lights and shadows. Inside, it was just the two of you, cocooned in the hum of the engine and the warmth of your joined hands. The earlier laughter and excitement of the drive-through light display still lingered, but now, a comfortable silence had settled. You glanced at Ben, his profile illuminated by the dashboard’s gentle glow, the curve of his lips softened in thought.

Then he spoke, his voice quiet and reflective. “I want this every year.”

You turned to him, your curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

He took a moment, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he gathered his thoughts. “All of it,” he said earnestly. “The matching pyjamas, the silly late-night drives, baking disasters that somehow work out in the end. I want to look over at you smiling, even if it’s just because you think I’m being cheesy and annoying.”

A small laugh escaped you, but his words had already begun to stir something deep inside.

“I want you to meet all my friends and fit into every corner of my life, and see it too, y'know? I can’t wait for Christmas Eve when the rest of the family comes down from Atlanta, and man, I get to show you off to them, too. But more than anything…” His voice dipped, softer now, almost vulnerable. “I just want you here. By me. Every time, all the time. Now, next year, and every year after that -hell, every day.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a lump forming in your throat as you tried to process the depth of what he was saying. He hesitated, casting a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. “I know it’s still soon, and I don’t want to rush anything. But you mean so much to me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it’s not something I take lightly.”

You didn’t trust your voice just yet, overwhelmed by the honesty and vulnerability in his tone. Instead, you lifted his hand to your shaky lips, pressing a tender kiss to his knuckles. His gaze flicked to you briefly, and you caught the boyish grin that always made your heart flutter.

“Ben,” you finally managed, your voice soft and steady, “you have no idea how much that means to me. Being here, being with you and your family, it feels like I’ve found something I didn’t even know I was missing.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his smile deepening.

“And your mom adding me to the family group chat?” you added with a laugh. “That might’ve been the highlight of my month. It’s such a small thing, but it made me feel like I belong. I’ve never had anything like this before, Ben. And I just… I love you so much. Being here with you, with all of you, it’s the best thing I’ve ever known.”

His grip on the wheel tightened slightly as he glanced at you, his gaze soft but intense. “I love you, you don’t even know how much. every day, I feel like I can’t love you more, and then… I do. you make everything better, babe. I can’t wait to see where this goes, our future. I know what I want, and that’s you. Now, later, always.”

You reached over, placing your hand on his thigh as your own emotions bubbled to the surface. “You don’t have to wait, Ben,” you said quietly. “I’m already here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The smile he gave you then was brighter than any Christmas light you’d seen all night. When you finally pulled into the driveway, the house quiet and dark, you both lingered in the car for a moment, soaking in the magic of the night.

As you leaned against him, you couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something beautiful, a foundation not just for the holidays, but for everything yet to come.

[screaming-panama506]

Head canons on the Gen Kill boys doing your skin care routine

Nate Fick

Nate is hesitant to try your skin care stuff. Mostly because he doesn’t want to enjoy it as much as he knows he will. However, once you get him to agree to do it with you, he sits very still as you apply the face mask. He complains that it's cold and you tease him about being a marine but doesn’t like a little cold. Overall, he will do this with you anytime you ask but with a little bit of resistance.

Mike “Gunny” Wynn

Gunny will absolutely refuse to do any skin care with you, although this man desperately needs some lotion. It takes some time to break him down and get him to join you. Gunny absolutely loves the idea of you pampering him, he’s a big softy at heart and gets very happy at the thought of you wanting to take care of him. But he will never say it out loud, but you know by the way he looks at you longingly. Will lay his head in your lap as you put lotion on his face. Lays there with the goofiest smile on his face.

Brad Colbert

Have you ever tried to get a dog to take its medicine? That's what it’s like trying to get Brad to do a skin care routine. Or to get him to take care of himself in general. So, trying to get him to do just a face mask is a covert operation. You’re going to have to take your time in getting him to agree. The best thing to start with is those eye masks, that man needs something to combat the dark circles under his eyes. This is a game of patience to get him anywhere near lotion. But when you do, he absolutely hates the feeling of it on his skin but will endure it because he loves you.

Ray Person

This man absolutely will do a skin care routine with you. Although not without snide comments on how it's some “sissy liberal shit”. Makes you do all the work, putting on lotion and masks, using the face rollers, and will 100% use those red-light masks. Will answer the door when your takeout comes wearing it with no shame. Also makes you put his hair up in a towel even though he has a buzz cut. Very insistent that you “do it right” and “go all the way”. Does it all the time with you and loves it.

Shawn “Pappy” Patrick

Now Pappy is a bit difficult, mostly because I’ve never put lotion on with a mustache before. But when you ask him, pappy will just stare at you with an eyebrow up and give you a soft “what”. His preferred lotion is engine grease so getting him to put any type of actual lotion on usually only happens once you’ve washed his face thoroughly. And he loves when you wash his face, the warm cloth and your soft hands relaxes him. Insists you massage the lotion in for a while, not because he truly cares about the health of his skin but because he likes the feeling of you touching his face.  

Walt Hasser

I totally believe that Walt uses some lotion already. And he stands side by side with you in front of the bathroom mirror applying it himself. But has a hard time getting his face mask on properly, it always ends up crooked and folded on itself slightly. So, you’ll have to do it for him, which results in you two having little giggle fits. You guys sit and watch k-dramas while wearing your matching masks.

Doc Bryan

Doc is like Walt, he has his own lotion but it’s the unscented medical grade stuff and probably feels like sandpaper. The bottle is from 1997 and hasn’t been finished or replaced. Getting him to use some nice soft and scented stuff is going to be very difficult, the only course of action is to throw his nasty bottle away. He won’t like it but it's for the best. Once you get him to let you put lotion on his face, you watch the tension in his shoulders melt away. Will insist you give him kisses while you’re pampering him. Tim totally has a bonnet; you can’t tell me otherwise. Now I really want to see a drawing of Doc in a bonnet.

Rudy Reyes

We all know Rudy is the king of skin care. The entire bathroom counter is filled with different lotions, perfumes, masks, rollers, cleansers, and eye creams. If it’s good for you, he has it. He has your skin type memorized and buys stuff that is specifically designed to help you, especially if you have eczema or acne. Speaking of which, this man is the only one that carries pimple patches, I totally believe he carries them with him everywhere. Rudy is very caring, so instead of you taking care of him, it’s the other way around. He’s the one putting your mask on for you, usually followed by a kiss. Is absolutely smitten by the fact you do all of this with him.

I hope you guys enjoyed! This was my first time wrighting anything. Let me know what you think.

[n0ahsebastians]

a million one, a million two, your house all the way to the moon; part one

someone requested a one shot of noah and reader’s wedding day/night and i’m FINALLY writing it !! this will be in 2 parts, so here’s part one!! the wedding day !! i hope you all enjoy, this was so much fun to write ☺️☺️

(title of one shot taken from ‘simple math’ by the wldlfe)

no triggers, just fluff and cuteness :3

 He never thought he’d be here right now, dress pants and a black tux shirt adorning his frame. He’d never worn anything this uncomfortable in his entire life, he was sure of it. But he was doing it for her, for them. He could not believe this was happening. He didn’t think he was even deserving of this, of her. He remembered so vividly the day he had asked her. Just simply sitting on the couch eating ramen. He couldn’t stop looking at her the entire time. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she had asked, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. He smiled back, shaking his head. 

“I can’t look at you?”

“Well I mean…yes. But why?”

“I have a question for you.” He could feel the way his heart started racing before he even got the question out. His hands were starting to sweat and his ears were ringing. This was the most nervous he had ever been in his entire life, he thought. 

“Okay?” She set her bowl of soup down, pulling her feet up onto the couch and crossing her legs. She turned to face him. “What’s up?”

“Umm…well…”

She raised her eyebrows at him. Why was he acting like this? Nervous as hell?

“Noah, are you alright honey?” She reached out to touch his cheek. Her hands were chilly against the heat of his skin and she pulled away for a brief second. 

“You’re warm.” Her brow furrowed as she examined his face some more.

“I’m fucking scared,” he finally blurted out, reaching into his pocket to pull out the small box he’d had in there since 10am. A small breath escaped her lips as the realization hit her. Noah wipes his sweaty hands onto his sweats, setting the box on top of his knee.

“But I love you. I love you more than anything in this entire world, and I’m fucking lucky you’re mine. I know I’m away a lot, even when I’m home. I disappear for hours and I know you say you’re okay with it because it’s my career. And it makes me love you even more.”

Tears are beginning to well in her eyes and she laughs gently as he continues with his speech.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he reaches for her hands, lacing them together. “I want you everyday for the rest of my life,” he opens the box, revealing a small ring inside, “if you’ll have me.”

She laughs again, leaning forward to kiss him softly. He chuckles against her lips, cupping her cheeks in his hands, wiping away the tears that continue to fall down them.

“I love you,” she whispers, kissing him again. “You’re my everything.”

“You’ll marry me?”

“Of fucking course I’ll marry you,” like it’s the craziest question he’s ever asked her. He slides the ring onto her finger, watching the way she lights up even more at the small band that’s now a permanent promise between them.

“That’s been sitting in my pocket since you woke up this morning,” he admits, kissing her again. She giggles, threading her fingers through his hair. 

“Can’t believe you didn’t blow it sooner.”

“Well asking you while you’re sitting on the toilet probably would’ve been the wrong time.”

She lets out a boisterous laugh, covering her face with her hands and wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“While eating ramen though was perfect. An A plus for you, my love.”

Noah smiles cheekily at his now fianceé, thinking that she could not get more beautiful than she was right now. 

Except for today. She was so beautiful, he thought. In her black pantsuit to match his own tux. She swore she would not wear a dress and he knew she meant it. He was glad she didn’t, she was perfect either way though. She was perfect to him no matter what she wore. 

Davis, Matt, Folio, Jolly, Nicholas, and Bryan were all by his side that day. His brothers. She had her mom, her two sisters, and three of her closest friends, all gathered with them in the courthouse. They had talked about not doing anything too big. They wanted something small from the beginning and they thought just a courthouse wedding was both their style. 

Noah kept messing with his collar the entire time they were waiting to walk out to the judge. He hated feeling restricted in any way with his clothing and he felt that at this very moment. Davis tried to help loosen the buttons on the collar but it was no use; he still felt incredibly restricted.

Until she walked in. He honestly felt that that was the problem. He needed to see her at least once before they became husband and wife. 

“You need to stop messing with it hun,” she told him, giving a wink to Davis who she knew had been trying to help him this whole time. 

“I’m trying but it’s fucking suffocating me, it feels like.”

He was getting frustrated, she could tell.

“Come here.”

She took him by the hand, walking down the hallway to one of the small rooms they had been allowed to use to get ready. She shut the door, locking it behind her. 

“What do you need?” She tried her best to relax him, running her hands up and down his clothed arms, over his cheeks. He was so warm, he had to have been burning up in this suit. 

“I need this…fucking suit off.” 

“Okay, hey. Look at me.”

He did. He took a shuddering breath and tried his best to stay as calm as possible. He knew this would happen and now he feels horrible. This day was supposed to be about them, about them uniting their love.

Instead he was having a fucking panic attack over his damn suit collar.

“Just breathe okay? Just breathe.”

He closed his eyes, took deep breaths in and out as he tried to calm himself down. He eventually got himself to where his suit didn’t feel so tight on him anymore.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. She smiled softly at him.

“You never have to be sorry, love. I’m here for you now and always.”

He smiled at her, leaned forward to kiss her gently. Just letting their lips rest against one another’s for a moment. Letting them revel in their last moments as fiancés. He rests their foreheads together, running his fingers up and down the length of her arms, feeling the warmth of her skin for a moment. 

“I love you,” he whispers, his breath fanning against her lips. 

“I love you most.”

“Let’s get fucking married,” he pulls her in tight, kissing her again. She laughs against his mouth.

“Let’s do it, baby.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you, (Reader’s name) take this man, Noah Sebastian Davis, to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?”

She was already crying before the judge had even got the words out. Their families were standing with them, smiling from ear to ear, laughter and tears from both sides as everyone shared stories of hers and Noah’s lives. Years before they ever knew each other. It made her love him even more as he squeezed her hands in his at the judge’s words. 

“I do,” she said, her mother’s small “Yay!” causing the room to erupt in laughter. 

“Thank god,” Jolly jokingly replies, earning another laugh among everyone. 

“And do you, Noah, take (Reader’s full name) to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?”

“Fuck yes, I do.”

She smiles so brightly as the laughter continues between them, the judge closing his book and asking for the rings. Nicholas brings one, her older sister brings the other. She places the ring on Noah’s finger, watching the way the gold band reflects off the light in the courtroom and she begins to cry again. Noah places her ring against her engagement ring, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. They lace their fingers together, knowing it’s so close to them finally being man and wife. 

“So we’ve placed the rings on each other. You’ve now been united as one,” the judge says, smiling at her and Noah. 

“By the power invested in me by the great state of California, and the county of Los Angeles, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride, Noah!”

Applause from the twelve family members erupts as Noah pulls her in tight, kissing her with everything he has. He cups her cheeks, running his thumbs over her cheekbones, the gentleness of his tongue pushing against her lips as she wraps her arms around his neck. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispers so only his wife can hear him. His wife. 

The cheers and hoots and hollers continue from the boys and her sister and friends. 

“I love love love you,” she says, kissing him again. “You’re my husband.” She says it like she can’t believe it’s real; she’s so full of love and emotion for this man in front of her. So incredibly in love with him she thinks she might explode.

“You’re my wife,” he says, tears falling down his cheeks. She wipes them away as they stay in their little bubble for a bit longer while everyone around them starts dancing in the courthouse. 

“Do you think we should give them some attention now?” he asks. She giggles, leaning in for another kiss, running her thumbs against the tears that have stained into his cheeks.

“Okay now we can.” 

They walk hand in hand out the courthouse doors, standing out in the hot sun to celebrate. Noah continues to complain about his collar being too tight on his neck and he’s finally able to loosen it a bit. With help from her and Davis of course. Bryan takes pictures, ones they’ll hang in their home to commemorate the day. There’s candids, kisses, and tears. There’s also laughs, intimacy, and a love so strong between everyone that gathered with them today. Noah knows he’ll remember this day for the rest of his life.

“I love you, baby,” Noah whispers into her hair as they finish up their photoshoot and walk hand in hand back to the courthouse to get ready for the reception. 

“I love you most.”