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#because he wanted sami by his side at rock bottom)
foe-wrestling · 2 years
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the cinnamon tography..............
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sleepy-achilles · 2 years
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The Scottish Warrior and The Skeleton King- Carrots
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Shawn yawns as he kicks the lockeroom door open. He pauses upon seeing his son sat on the bench, leaning against his locker, staring at the tv. "And what are you doing here? It's your off day" Shawn asks walking closer. "Drew texted me" Leon states holding his phone out. Shawn squints. "Carrots? You hate carrots...why does that mean you have to be here?" Shawn questions. "It means drews expecting danger. And I'm purely here to back him up." Leon states pocketing his phone. Shawn looks at the screen to see drew fighting sami. "Hes just fighting sami, it'll be ok. Jesus your just like your father. He was always waiting backstage in fear I was going to get jumped on my way back to the lockers." Shawn huffs pushing his son over so he can open his locker.
Leon shuffles out of the way and looks at shawn with a raised eyebrow. "Thats because you literally used to get jumped on the way to the lockers" Leon points out. "Not the point. What I'm saying is, times are different. Boys don't do that anymore" Shawn sighs. "No?" Leon asks. Shawn pauses. That's a trap. He knows it. "Leon" Shawn warns looking at his son. Leon just smirks at his father and stands. "Gotta shoot Pa" Leon states before kissing shawns cheek and running out. Shawn quickly looks at the screen to see Drew being jumped, in the ring. "Always have to prove me wrong, don't ya?" Shawn grumbles as stars start to gather around to watch. "What?" Taker suddenly asks. "I was just explaining to Leon that the boys don't need to jump each other anymore. But the bloodline just had to prove me wrong." Shawn huffs.
Taker looks at the screen. "Wheres roman?" Taker asks. Shawns eyes widen and he turns to the screen in time to see Leon get thrown out onto the ramp and for roman and Austin to stroll out after him. "Fuckers" Taker growls. Shawn grabs his husbands arm, sensing he's about to do something. "No. I trust Leon to handle this" shawn mutters. Taker looks at shawn confused but stays and watches like the others.
"Look what we got drew!" Jey laughs. Drew grits his teeth as a pain throbs through his head. He lifts his head off the slightly pinkish mat to see Leon being dragged down to the ring. "Lee" he gasps going to get up only for a chair to be slammed against his back again. He cries out. "Boys! I want him to see this!" Roman yells. Drew groans as he's grabbed and moved. He opens his eyes slightly to see Austin clearing the commentary table and roman leaning Leon against it. "This is what happens when you stick your nose in my business!" Roman yells as he adjusts Leon. Drew can't do anything but watch as Leon receives a rock bottom through the table.
It's his fault
If he didn't text Leon, Leon wouldn't be laid among the rubble of the announcement table. He groans as he's thrown back down onto the mat. Blood covering his face from whatever part of his forehead is cut. He needs to fight back. For his sake and Leon's. So he does. He starts to stand, his vision blurry and his feet shakey.
Then he's right back on the mat after a nicely delivered spear. Drew can't feel anything but sharp and throbbing pains. "Get some more chairs!" Someone yells. Drew just closes his eyes and turns his head to the side. With Leon out, he was screwed. He could take them all on his own, not in this state atleast.
He thinks its over when he hears the sound of...chairs hitting each other?, until the crowd starts screaming. He opens his eyes to see Leon over him, one hand rested by his head, his knees the otherside of drew and a sledgehammer held tightly in his other hand. Drews eyes widen as Leon's eyes glow a bright purple. "Bring it!" Leon yells pulling himself up and adjusting himself so one foot is behind drew and the other infront of him. Drew carefully rests a hand on Leon's ankle to ground him. "Cmon!" Leon yells before slamming the hammer head down onto a discarded chair. From this angle drew can see the blood on Leon's back from whatever they did before dragging him down here. Bruises starting to form from the table. "Thats what I thought" Leon huffs as the bloodline start to back away.
Leon is quick to kneel next to drew, dropping the sledgehammer but keeping it close enough that him or drew can grab it. He cups drews face gently. "You alright darlin?" He asks quietly. Drew brings a shakey hand up to cup his. "I am now. My Knight in shining armour" drew teases. Leon rolls his eyes. "Yeah yeah, thank me when I get you to medical" Leon huffs helping drew sit up. "You learn that from hunter?" Drew mumbles out. Leon looks at the sledge hammer and smirks. "Nope. My pa" Leon states helping drew stand, grabbing the sledgehammer as a crutch. "Huh....I can see it" drew huffs as he rests his head against Leon's neck.
Backstage, shawn has the biggest smile on his face. Taker looks at shawn. "Shawn?" Taker asks.
"Thats my boy" Shawn states loudly. Everyone looks at him. "Thats my boy" Shawn repeats to himself before closing his locker and moving to the showers.
Hunter looks at taker confused. "You know Shawn. He's like a mother...Leon could drink a whole bottle of water and he'd react like that" Taker shrugs. "He learnt that from me. Not shawn" hunter snaps before storming off. "What the actual fuck is going on back here tonight?" Taker huffs before sitting down.
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I didn't know how to finish this one. I'm still trying to perfect writing and I'm really enjoying practicing with the family of destruction.
So enjoy
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danwhobrowses · 3 years
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AEW: Booking Hangman's Title Win
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Hangman Page seems all but destined to be the man who takes the belt from Kenny Omega. Two different stories have unraveled since their break as a tag team with Kenny the heel world champion and Hangman the babyface man of the people. But it does feel like this long story still has plenty of chapters to go, and while we wonder how this story will continue to unfold, this is how I would do it.
Kenny unravels as Hangman Rises Omega's road to All Out is a turbulent one, and since chances are he won't go to NJPW, NWA or ROH to continue his belt collection, I think the Belt Collector's time is about to come to an end.
July 17th will mark the end of his Impact reign, losing to Sami Callihan at Slammiversary. Don has already been 'fired' from Impact so he will have little leverage to save him this time around, I don't think even TK can give him any special treatments either. Then in August 14th, he will lose the Mega Championship at Triplemania XXIX to Andrade El Idolo. Not only does this give Andrade gold to carry around on AEW but also will cement the fact that he can beat Omega - which will come into play much later.
This leaves the illustrious belt collector with one: the AEW World Championship. Because Omega's character has been super cartoonish, I expect him to grow very self-conscious about the fact that people want to take his title, think Gollum crossed with that coach in The Waterboy. Unhinged Kenny will juxtapose a much more mentally together Hangman, who keeps on winning clean. This all leading to the third destination
Kenny Omega vs Hangman Page at All Out.
Elite Mind Games Although he is the top of the ranks, Hangman has often dodged the question regarding the world title. Deep down Hangman is still has mixed feelings regarding the Elite, and whether he is worthy or able to defeat Hangman; he's fallen short multiple times after all. This is Kenny's in to get the mental edge over Hangman.
Because their split didn't have a full stop, Kenny will pretend to his adversary that they are still friends, he will lure Hangman to doubt himself by giving him what he desperately wanted last year: forgiveness from the Elite. Feigning the olive branch with the Bucks, the Elite will poison Hangman's mind to be unprepared for shenanigans, they will draw him away from the Dark Order and at All Out, Hangman will go to face Omega alone.
All Out - Kenny Retains...just It could start as a clean contest, but the moment Hangman starts looking like he will succeed, the madness of Omega will once again show itself. Without anyone to help him, Hangman will be forced to push his babyface fire to the limits, he will fight through the entire Elite: the Good Brothers, Nick and then Matt. He'll hit the Buckshot, the Deadeye, 1, 2, Don stops it. Hangman will dismantle Don but then it's Kenny's turn, V-Trigger, One Winged Angel, 1, 2, 3.
On the second battle, Kenny wins once more, but it took every trick in the book he had to bring him down, the opponent he felt was a sure thing after his mind games, and it shows on his face. But it also shows on Hangman, because he fell for all of it and now he's alone again.
The Madness of Kenny / The Isolation of Hangman Becoming so close to losing will put Kenny at his most possessive, his most desperate. Kenny will grow erratic and hostile with each title defense, cheating all the more blatantly and willfully, a collection of OC, PAC, Andrade, Archer and Kazarian all knock on his door for specials like Grand Slam, Full Gear and the 2nd Anniversary but Kenny survives through his madness until he is a full shadow of himself.
Hangman though descends beyond rock bottom, not even feeling like he deserves forgiveness for pushing away the Dark Order. Hangman too will completely lose himself, losing his motivation to even wrestle let alone associate with anything relative to the Elite. We'll only see him at rare times, hiding in dark corners trying to avoid Marvez or completely drunk out of his mind in a pile of bags or coats, a sad sight to behold.
"If you all sit there and ignore it, you're all cowards!" Along the list of opponents waiting to face Kenny, Eddie Kingston must be near the end. Kingston, Moxley, Penta, PAC, Christian and Kazarian all at different times found common ground to try and defeat the Elite, but the distractions have proven too much.
Kingston will unsuccessfully challenge Kenny, but after his defeat he'll run into Hangman and dress him down, a scolding never before seen because Hangman is the one that he is disappointed with the most. Hangman overcame the numbers, he had Kenny scared but he has simply sat there and let the Elite continue this reign of terror while he throws a pity party for himself. Refusing to let Hangman regress either, Kingston will push Hangman into fighting him, so he can let out his frustrations and fears, but the Elite will be wise to this too.
Before Kingston and Hangman can have their rubber match, the Elite will attack Kingston and kayfabe injure him, preventing Kingston from making any more progress with Hangman. They'll feign their reasoning to not involve Hangman and feel like the deal is done, because Hangman - despite being in the top 5 - has disappeared once more.
Evening the Numbers At this point of booking I would see Kenny being the sole titleholder in the Elite. The Bucks already lost their tag titles a while ago and they fell short in a Trios tournament, so now they're mainly dedicated to keeping Kenny as world champion.
We'll have one more special where Kenny successfully defends his title again, let's say it's Winter is Coming. As the Elite celebrate a full year of Kenny's title reign in the ring, the music changes. Out comes Hangman, next in line due to the rankings, the Elite look concerned but confident that they can take him, but then around the ring they realise they have company: the Dark Order surround the apron and that leads to a brawl. The Dark Order have the advantage but Kenny is using the belt as an equalizer, taking out anyone that moves, but as he turns he eats a Buckshot Lariat and the show closes on Hangman standing tall, his eyes driven and focused on the prize.
Revolution: The Win Personally I would've liked to have done this for Full Gear or All Out, because there'd be the narrative there of either the beginning of Page's self-doubt (Full Gear when the Bucks kept mocking his physique in comparison to PAC) or his first failure to capture the title (All Out vs Jericho), but I don't think we can wait another full year for this, so it happens at Revolution. And Revolution is still sensible too, it was the tease of divide between the Elite and Hangman during their tag battle and it's the PPV after Kenny's anniversary as champion.
When Revolution's main event goes down Kenny is uncaged and will look to put Hangman away early, and every time Hangman fights back he becomes more and more scared. Every attempt at shenaniganry by the Elite will also be blocked off, either by the Dark Order or returning enemies like Mox, Eddie, Death Triangle, Daniels and Kazarian, not in Lumberjack style but in a way where we see that the narrative is AEW vs The Elite. This is the time where Hangman kicks out of the One Winged Angel, we'll tease it in the match but have him reach the ropes so the fans think he can't possibly kick out of a second or third one. When the lid blows off and Kenny is all out of options, he'll try begging, low blows, belt shots, chairs, anything he can muster to keep Hangman down, even mocking Hangman with a Buckshot variant of his V-Trigger for that extra spice of scumbaggery. But it comes to a final clash, both men on either side of the ring, wounded, exhausted, barely able to stand, but not looking away. One Last Move. Hangman's Buckshot, Kenny's V-Trigger, both collide but the Buckshot breaks through the V-Trigger, 1, 2, 3.
The majority of the locker room (I mean I don't expect the likes of IC, Andrade, Miro and Pinnacle to be all happy days about it) and maybe even the crowd can then invade the ring to celebrate with Hangman to close the night, completing the story while bringing up several other talents and keeping story opportunities for Hangman and the Elite to venture off on their separate ways.
Personally I feel like this - if done how I imagine it of course - would be a perfect closing of the Hangman saga, but others may not think so, and maybe AEW has thought of something I haven't which makes it even better, only time will tell. But I felt like getting that off my chest.
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xxisxxisxxis · 5 years
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Gateway Drug | Part Thirty-Two
Table of Content or Part Thirty-One
Word Count: 2K
Warning(s): Explicit language, Drug use, Explicit sexual situations
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LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED
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"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Vivian, happy birthday to you!" Nikki, Robbin, and Tommy, all sing after Tommy pulls his cigarette lighter out of his pocket and lights the candles on my birthday cake that reads, "Happy Fucking Birthday, Saint Sixx."
We're all sitting in mine and Nikki's living room, just having pizza, and now cake that's presented on the coffee table as we all sit around it.
I make my wish, but just before I can blow my candles out, Nikki's doing it for me.
I give him an amused look, dipping my fingers through a glob of icing creating a little green flower on the side of the cake, and wipe it across his face.
It backfires, because he pulls me to him and rubs his icing covered cheek against mine, getting it on me as well, causing me to squeal.
"Nikki!" I complain, grabbing a napkin to wipe my face off and he does the same, laughing. "Can you go get us some forks?" I ask him.
"Yeah, if you come with me." He replies and I furrow my brows a little.
He just smirks, giving me the look, and nods his head a little towards the kitchen, Robbin and Tommy oblivious due to being lost in their own conversation.
Me and Nikki make a run for it, simultaneously saying, "be right back."
The second we get in the kitchen, my back is pulled against his chest, his hands are pushing my dress up my hips, and pulling the top of it down, pinning me against the kitchen counter.
His tongue slides up my neck, his hand fumbling to pull my panties to the side as my fingers blindly reach behind me to yank on the laces of his pants to get them untied as we hurriedly fumble for a quickie.
He's covering my mouth with his hand the second he pushes himself inside of me, to keep my moans and whimpers at bay, not giving me a second to adjust to him.
I'm moving in rhythm with his hard, fast, and rough pace, a sheen of sweat easily covering over the both of us after a minute as his free hand kneads at the flesh of my hips before palming my breast.
I squeeze my eyes closed, electricity capturing every nerve in my body with each thrust he makes into me.
Sticky liquid pools from me, making his push and pull easier, and he lets out a breath, chuckling to himself.
"So fuckin' wet." He says in my ear, fingers moving from my nipple to my clit, teasingly, his teeth nipping skin on my shoulder and I moan the best I can, quietly, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
My hand goes over his that's covering my mouth, and I pull his hand away and move it to my throat, my fingers encouraging his to wrap around it.
He catches my hint, letting out an amused little groan, and squeezes my throat just enough to send a shiver running up my arched spine, never once letting up the steady movements of his fingers playing between my legs like he plays a song at a show.
Just as I start giving signs I'm about hit my end, he slows down his thrusts and fingers, causing me to gasp out in frustration.
"Nikki, please." I cry, my nails biting into his tan arm that's wrapped around me, to allow his fingers to reach between my legs, and he snickers in my ear.
"Oh, I'm sorry did you wanna come, baby?" He asks me, his whispering in my ear only adding to my excitement and I dig my teeth into my bottom lip, his hand still grasping my throat, the tenderness of his thumb rubbing gentle circles against my pulse is a sharp contrast to him taunting me. 
"Yes." I reply wantonly, his hips making a particularly slow effort to move him deep into me, his tip pushing against my cervix, and my eyes roll back.
"I'm not sure you deserve to." He tells me with a tsk, and I let out a soft groan of protest.
"Baby, please?" I beg, his teasing driving me to the brink of insanity.
He stops moving altogether, burried to the hilt inside of me, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear as he grins.
Just before he speaks, the doorbell rings.
"I got it!" Nikki assures Tommy and Robbin, pulling out of me.
My eyes widen with frustration as I snap around to face him as he tucks his obviously hard prick back into his pants with a shit eating smirk on his face.
"Ya know," He starts, looking down at me, hand sliding down my back to squeeze my ass one good time. "You're so fucking hot when you're like a bitch in heat...so I'm just gonna keep you there for a day or two." He winks, not even giving me as much as a kiss before heading for the door.
I head to our bathroom and clean myself up, smoothing my hair down, glancing at the counter to see a handful of used needles with the caps discarded and I roll my eyes.
"Seriously, Nikki?" I mumble, carefully placing the lids back on them. "Why don't we just get a sharps container?" I add, picking the syringes up, making sure not to stab myself.
Just as I'm about to go throw them into the designated shoe box under the bed, my eyes catch on a tube of mascara that isn't mine.
I let out a soft breath.
"Michael." I grab the tube of mascara and step to the bedroom to put it in safe keeping in the drawer of my biggest secrets that he discovered recently—despite Nikki not ever stumbling upon it—incase he remembers it, although I know he won't.
I open the drawer, greeted by two ultrasound pictures and pregnancy tests, the memory of the look on Mike's face when he found them, immediately coming to my mind.
Bold, blue, glassy eyes pose contradictory to running, black, eye liner as the blonde looks at me with a pale, exhausted face.
"What're you doing?" I ask him, trying to hide the pinch in my voice, knowing he most likely wasn't snooping for the hell of it.
"Nikki said there was some clean needles in his drawer." He tells me shakily, the jitters of withdrawl beginning to set in.
"Here." I offer help, stepping to the bedside table on Nikki's side of the bed, grabbing a few packages of syringes, handing them to him.
He's holding onto one of the ultrasound pictures, examining the date scribbled on the bottom of it from over a year ago, his eyes shifting to the second one from earlier this year, and he looks at me.
I just gently crouch down and take the picture from him and put it back, shutting the drawer.
"Where are they at?" He asks me, looking at me like a wounded puppy.
"Back where they came from." I reply, placing the clean needles in his hand. "Guess it just wasn't time for Nikki and I to be parents."
"I'm sorry." He tells me, a lump clearly in his throat.
"I can't imagine going through all this and having two kids, so, I count it as a blessing." I reply, lying through my teeth. "Nikki doesn't know." I add. "So, please, don't mention it to him."
"I'm not even gonna fucking remember this." He admits, laughing, but it's doesn't contain a shred of humor. "It's not right for you to keep that to yourself. You gotta tell someone."
"I just did." I point out.
"Nikki." He tells me.
"If I tell him, he'll go load up on something, and shut down, and wallow in self-pity. I'd rather handle it myself instead of dragging him in with me, just to have him shut me out and leave me alone to handle it myself, anyway." I explain.
"Is it not miserable grieving alone?" He asks suddenly and I think about it for a moment.
"There's not much grieving. When things die, you no longer prioritize them."
"But we still tend to mourn what could have been, but never will be." He says. "Because when something dies, the plans we created attached to it, dies, too."
"Yeah." I agree, blinking back tears.
"I know I'll still find a way to sing, because Razzle wouldn't want me, Andy, Nasty, and Sami to stop what we're doing just because he isn't here, even if Hanoi Rocks is over." He says it as if he's demanding himself not to quit on his dream. "Because he's still apart of it."
He wipes his eyes, calming himself down before looking at me.
"Those children are still apart of whatever it is you're after." He tells me. "So keep running like hell to catch it."
His body is in tremors, eyes wild, focused on me, and I nod slowly.
He got his fix as soon as possible, and left me with a little bit of my heart healing.
He was right, and didn't remember that conversation until I explained to him why Duff and I decided on "Monroe."
Well...I wanted it because it had a special meaning and represented a moment of strength to me, Duff agreed to it because Michael was one of his idols.
Which was fine by me, too.
By the time I'm stepping out, Nikki, Tommy, and Robbin are standing at the door, laughing.
I go to them, furrowing my brows, before I peek from behind Nikki and see one of Nikki and Tommy's blow dealers.
"Hey, Viv, we were gonna head out, if you wanna come with." Tommy offers.
"I don't think she wants to be around what we'll be doing, T-Bone." The dealer warns and Nikki, Robbin and Tommy's eyes light up. "In or not?"
"Hell yeah, man." Tommy pipes, grinning from ear to ear.
"Lemme grab my keys." Nikki tells them as they all head out, Tommy and Robbin both kissing me on the cheek and giving me a half-assed hug, telling me "happy birthday" one last time.
I follow Nikki to our room so he can get his keys, my arms crossed.
"Nikki, it's my birthday." I remind him.
"Well, come with us."
"I'm not spending my birthday watching everyone around me get stoned out of their minds." I argue and he shrugs.
"I can't help that, Viv." He replies and I let out a breath.
"So you're leaving me at home. By myself. On my birthday?" I ask and he sighs.
"Don't fuckin' guilt trip me, baby, please." He groans out, grabbing his jacket and keys.
"If you feel guilty it's because you know it's a crappy thing to do." I tell him.
"Alright, fine! I won't fucking go!" He throws his keys and his jacket across the room, irritated, and I just blink at him.
"If you wanna go that bad, then you should." I say casually and he looks at me like he could kill me.
Just before I can make a run for it, he's grabbing me by the waist and tossing me onto the bed, making me squeal and laugh as his hands tickle at my ribs as he says, "you piss me off so fucking much, Sixx."
He let's me catch my breath and I sit up, getting on my knees to face him where he's sitting beside me on the mattress.
"Baby." I start, innocently, my hand on his thigh and he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, okay?" I lean in closer, but he stands his ground.
My tongue runs up his neck, his breath catches in his throat, and a little moan leaves him when my hand rubs over the tent in his pants.
"It's my birthday and I just wanna play with my favorite toy." I quote him, whispering hotly in his ear, and he lets out a devious chuckle.
He threw out the idea of not finishing what he had started in the kitchen earlier, and by the time we were collapsing after using and abusing each other, all the icing on the remaining chunk of my birthday cake had been scraped off and put to interesting use in more ways than one.
One in the morning rolls around, and I'm washing off in the shower, still reeling with post multi-orgasm buzz.
Once I'm finished, I'm wrapping up in a towel and stepping out to find Nikki.
He's got his pants back on, in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with an open bottle of Jack beside him as a livid expression cloaks his features.
"What's wrong?" I ask, running my fingers through my wet hair.
He doesn't answer, just rolling his jaw.
"Nikk—"
"Who the fuck is 'Duff'?"
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semperintrepida · 5 years
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A Feast for Solstice
Playing babysitter was the opposite of what Kassandra wanted to be doing on Solstice, and yet here Markos was, asking her to watch Phoibe while he ran off to do gods knew what. She looked at the little girl playing in the dust at their feet with rising irritation.
“Kassandra, please. I need to get that shipment from Kausos tonight or it’ll be both our heads.”
Why couldn’t it just be his head for once? She shook her head in defeat. “Fine.”
“I’ll make it up to you, friend, I will.”
She waved him off dismissively. All she wanted for Solstice was to get drunk and find someone beautiful to sleep with. The festival of the longest night brought all the women on the island out to celebrate the harvest and Dionysos, their voices lifting in song, their lithe bodies swaying with the drums… but she wouldn’t be there to enjoy it, not this year.
She sighed, then crouched down next to Phoibe. “Hey, you.”
The girl gave her a shy smile. “Hey, Kassandra.”
“Looks like it’s just you and me today.”
“Okay.” Phoibe poked at the dirt with the stick in her hand, then said warily, “What do you want to do?”
Already wary. Phoibe hadn’t even been on the island half a year. “Well, it’s Solstice,” Kassandra said, putting on a grin. “I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” She patted the girl’s shoulder and stood up. “Let’s see what we can find in Sami.”
Phoibe followed along behind her as they wandered through the market. Kassandra had scratched together a bit of drachmae, intending to use it for her wine fund at the festival. With the coins in her pouch, and the half a goat she had hanging back at home, they’d eat well tonight at least.
She stretched the drachmae far enough to turn it into a loaf of bread, some apples, a small flask of wine, even a pomegranate and a bit of honeycomb. And when they reached the other side of the market, where the road led away to Mount Ainos, she felt a tug at her belt and saw Phoibe offering up a nutcake.
“Where’d you get that?”
“I borrowed it.”
“You ‘borrowed’ it.” She stifled a grin, then glanced around, looking for any angry merchants. The road only held travelers headed to Sami for the festival.
“It’s wrong, I know.” Small shoulders slumped.
Kassandra shrugged. “The nutcake, maybe. But survival isn’t. A knack for borrowing might come in handy.”
When they reached the dilapidated house Kassandra called home, she sent Phoibe off to gather palm fronds while she set to digging a large pit away from the front stoop and next to a crumbling stone wall. If she was going to feast at home on Solstice, she’d do it right.
Phoibe set a large pile of fronds near the pit and watched Kassandra dig in rapt fascination. “Can I help?”
“Yeah, find me some rocks like this one.” She nudged a flat stone.
Once the pit was deep enough, they lined the bottom with the flat stones and Kassandra built a fire upon them. She wrapped the goat in the palm fronds as the fire burned down to embers, and then she covered the coals with a layer of sand before placing the meat on top of it and burying the whole thing under still more sand. She built one more fire on top of it all, and settled back against the wall to wait. It wasn’t long until sunset, and while the day had been warm, it would get cold in the dark.
Kassandra expected boredom to visit her then, but Phoibe began gathering sticks of various sizes and sticking them into the dirt, and she couldn’t help but watch as Phoibe played with them, reenacting battles between soldiers and pirates and heroes.
Eventually, Phoibe was surrounded by a fallen army of sticks. After surveying the scene, she grabbed two sticks in each hand, one smaller, and one larger. She shook the smaller stick at the larger, and said, “Gimmie all your money.”
The larger stick waved around. “No! It’s my money. I’m keeping it!” Phoibe had pitched her voice suspiciously lower.
“You’ll pay, girl.” Small stick hit the larger.
“Ouch! You hurt my hand!”
Phoibe shook the smaller stick again and gave an evil laugh.
She brought the larger stick close to the smaller. “I really don’t like you! Have a stab.” Then the larger stick clobbered the smaller one to the ground. “Now gimmie your money.”
Kassandra couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. That wasn’t exactly how her encounter with the bandit had gone, but good enough for the theatre.
Phoibe dropped the sticks as if caught, but Kassandra began to clap in appreciation. “Come here.”
The girl settled in beside her.
“Did Markos tell you what happened?”
Phoibe nodded. Then she asked, “How’s your owie?”
Kassandra reflexively rubbed her right hand with her left, feeling the raised scar that ran across the back of her hand in a stark red line. Her skin may have healed, but her ring and little fingers still remained worryingly numb. All her grip strength when holding her spear came from those two fingers. If they didn’t heal right…
But Phoibe didn’t need to know all this. “Much better,” she said.
“Can I see it?”
Kassandra knew the question for what it was, and opened her arms so the girl could crawl into her lap. Small fingers explored her hand, tracing the scar and poking at the callouses on her palm.
“Rough,” Phoibe declared.
“Yeah.”
“Will mine get like that?”
“Maybe. Depends on what trade you take up.”
“I’m gonna heal people with my hands.” She tugged Kassandra’s hand closer and cupped it between her own.
“That would be nice of you.”
Phoibe giggled and dug deeper into Kassandra’s lap, her head resting against Kassandra’s chest. “You’re nice.”
Was she? Kassandra wasn’t sure. She had rarely been wielded for anything good.
Phoibe lay silently in her lap as the fire burned down, and for a while Kassandra thought she might have fallen asleep. She closed her eyes, enjoying the fire’s warmth, and, she admitted to herself, Phoibe’s contented closeness. After a while, Phoibe stirred, and said “Sorry,” so quietly Kassandra almost missed hearing it.
“For what?”
“You didn’t… You didn’t want to be with me today.”
Kassandra cursed herself silently. She'd have to remember to watch herself around Phoibe in the future, because even a five-year-old could understand the happenings around them, and they rarely missed anything important.
She used a finger to tilt Phoibe’s chin up to look at her. “Listen. I did have something else I wanted to do, but I’m here with you now. And I’m glad to be.”
Phoibe’s arms wrapped around her.
“I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t welcome.”
“You still made me a feast.” Phoibe, finding some good left in her.
She smiled. “Can’t be Solstice without a feast.” The smell of roasting meat made her stomach rumble. “And I think it might be ready.” She lifted herself to her feet and took Phoibe along for the ride.
Phoibe let out an excited howl as she swooped through the air. “Yes!”
Solstice was here.
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missymoxy · 6 years
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Whiskey Lullaby
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PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!
Pairing: Jon Moxley x OFC
Genre/Warnings: Angst, suicide, character death, alcohol abuse.
Words: 3.8k
Summary: If you love someone, set them free.That's exactly what Emily did. She set Jon Moxley free from their toxic relationship. She left him before they destroyed each other. She went away because she loved him too much. But Emily didn't know that this would end up being her biggest mistake and that her actions would end up destroying what mattered the most.
A/N: This fic was inspired on the song "Whiskey Lullaby" by Brad Paisey feat. Alison Krauss. This was my first fic ever; I hope you like it. If you do, please let me know. I'm looking forward to hear (read) your thoughts on this.
She was running around the room, packing her bags, praying to God that she could pack and leave before he got home from the bar, where he seemed to spend all his free time these days. It was a coward move, she knew that. Leaving and ending a four-year relationship without even telling him in person, but she couldn't see him. She knew that at the moment she looked into his beautiful blue eyes, they would suck her in like always and make it impossible to tell him all that she needed to say.
It wasn't totally unexpected, it wasn't like their relationship was perfect and she was leaving out of the blue. No, on the contrary, the only thing they did was fight all the time, screaming and throwing things at each other. They were toxic together.
It wasn't like she didn't love him either. Lord knows she loved Jon Moxley more than life itself, she would do anything for that man. But she had to leave. It was the best for both of them.
She knew that he would hate her, she knew that he would never want to see her again. After all, she was breaking her promise that she would be by his side forever, she wasn't better than his mother, after all, she was abandoning him just like she did.
Part of her thought that she was making a mistake by leaving, but a bigger part knew that it was the best. She was sure that after a while Jon wouldn't even remember her. He loved her, she knew he did, but he loved drinking more. When he was sober, he was the best boyfriend in the world, but the whiskey made him do things that she could never forgive.
He would find another girl, she knew he would. After all, it was impossible for a man with his looks to be alone, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen in her entire life. Everything about him was perfect, his unruly dirty-blonde hair, his striking blue eyes and the adorable dimples that would appear on his face whenever he smiled.
But behind his perfect outside there was a broken soul. A soul that she tried to fix over and over again, but he never let her in. Maybe he didn't need fixing, maybe when the right person came, he would truly be happy and his broken pieces would glue back together. Maybe she just wasn't the right person for him.
She zipped her bag, left the letter she wrote to him in his pillow and headed to the door. She opened the door and looked back, one last time, to the house where she lived the happiest years of her life. She chose to focus only on the good that happened there, she chose to focus on a time where they promised each other that it would always be them against the world.
Emily felt a tear on her cheek as she left and closed the door behind her, hoping she'd made the right choice.
x.X.x
When he got home, all the lights were off. It was strange because Emily hated the dark, it had something to do with her childhood. The only time when she was okay with it was when she was in his arms. And he loved having her in his arms, it was his piece of heaven in a world of hell.
He knew that he didn't deserve her, he knew that she was too pure for a piece of shit like him. He should let her go, but Jon Moxley was a selfish man.
His heart was pounding in his chest as he made his way to their bedroom. It was nothing, he told himself, maybe she just fell asleep without turning the light on. He knew she was exhausted, working two jobs, trying to make the ends meet while he followed his dream of being a professional wrestler.
And how did he pay her? By spending his nights at the bar, getting shitfaced and then coming home and picking fights with her. He really was a worthless piece of shit.
When he got to the bedroom and turned the light on, his heart stopped beating for a few seconds. She wasn't there, the bed was made and everything was in place. Maybe she was working a second shift, he tried to convince himself, but there was a feeling at the bottom of his heart that told him that wasn't the case.
Especially when he saw a neatly folded paper, on the top of his pillow, with his name on top. He grabbed it with shaky hands and felt his whole world stop when he saw what was written.
Dear Jon,
As you probably realized by now I left, and I'm not coming back. I apologize for not being woman enough to say it to your face, I'm sorry for taking the "easy" way out and leaving you a letter instead of facing you.
The truth is that if I hadn't left before you came home, I would've stayed because I wouldn't be able to look into your eyes and see the pain that I'd caused.
I left because we were bad for each other. All the fights and screaming that we had were beginning to take a toll on both of us. We weren't healthy for each other. You know better than anyone that when we were good it was great, but when it was bad it was awful. We were killing each other slowly on the inside.
I love you. Please don't think I'm doing this because I don't love you anymore, that couldn't be further away from the truth. I'm leaving because I love you too much. You know, I always thought we would get married, have children and grow old together. But God works mysterious ways.
By now you must be thinking that I'm just a selfish bitch who cares about nothing but herself, please know that I'm doing this for both of us, it may not seem that way right now, because you are hurting, but I'm confident that in the future you'll realize that me leaving was the best thing that could've ever happened to you.
I hope you find someone new because someone as handsome as you shouldn't be alone. Seriously, I hope you'll find a girl who'll rock your world and make you the happiest man on earth. I hope you find that person that will make all of your broken pieces glue back together because you deserve it, you deserve the world and the stars and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you. I just want you to know that I tried, I tried with all that I had but it wasn't enough.
Finally, I hope that you make it big on wrestling, you have talent, passion and everything you need to succeed. I'm looking forward to the day I'll be watching WWE like we did so many times before, and I'll see you come running down that ramp ready to kick ass.
I love you, Jon, I hope you know that. I love you with all my heart, I never thought it was possible to love someone as much as I love you. My heart is yours, and you'll always have it for as long as I live. You are the greatest love of my life and don't you forget that ever.
With Love, Emily.
No!
It couldn't be true.
Emily didn't leave him, she wouldn't do that. He was sure this was just a prank, that's it, just a way to get back at him for everything he'd done. It was just a joke and in no time she would come out from wherever she was hiding and she would laugh at him and then kiss him.
He went to her drawers, positive that he would find all of her belongings and everything would be fine.
But it wasn't.
All of her things were gone, vanished, like they were never there in the first place, all of her traces erased like Emily had been just a ghost, a fragment of his imagination.
He got angry and started throwing things around. She couldn't have left him, she was his and his only. Just like he was hers.
Jon eventually got tired of trashing the room and fell on the bed, her scent hit him like a ton of bricks. He always loved her scent, she smelled like peaches and it was the best smell in the world.
He hugged her pillow to his chest and closed his eyes. For a moment it was like she was there in his arms, but deep inside he knew that he would never hold her like that ever again.
The realization made him do something that he hadn't done in years, not since he was a child, not even when his mother died.
He cried.
He cried like he never had before. He was sobbing, calling her name, hoping that she would listen and came back home, back to him.
But she never did.
x.X.x
Five months had passed and Jon still hadn't heard a word about Emily, he tried everything he could to find her. He called all her friends, showed up at her workplaces, but he found nothing. It was like she'd disappeared from the face of the earth.
He couldn't deal with the pain anymore, it was worse than anything he'd ever faced in the ring. Hell, he'd rather fight on top of broken glass every night for the rest of his life than to live another day without Emily.
He tried to hate her, but how can you hate the greatest love of your life?
The worse though, was that he couldn't seem to forget her. He would get so drunk that he didn't remember his own name, but he always remembered her. Her face, her voice, her laugh, everything about her was carved so deep in his soul that nothing could erase it.
He was at the bar, drinking whiskey, getting drunk like he always did every day since she left him. He lost everything. His job, since he stopped showing up to the shows and when he did he was drunk out off his ass; he lost his friends, the only one who was around these days was Sami - who would still show at his house trying to help him. But he couldn't, no one could.
Tonight was more painful than the others, tonight was the night of Jon and Emily's fifth anniversary. This was the night he was going to propose to her, he'd already bought the ring and everything but now she wasn't here. He had nothing left.
"Another one," he asked the bartender raising his empty glass.
"I don't think so man, you drank enough."
"I didn't ask you if I had enough, I asked you for a fucking whiskey," he slurred grabbing the bartender by his shirt. "Now give me another one, before I shove your teeth down your throat."
The bartender shoved him. "Get the hell out of here before I call the police."
"Whatever man, fuck you!" He put some cash on the counter, got up and started walking towards the door. "I don't need it anyway, I have my stuff at home."
Jon stumbled on his way home, luckily this was one of the few days he was sober enough to know where he lived.
When he got home, he went straight to the cabinet where he stashed his drinks and grabbed a bottle of Jack.
"Now we're talking," he said, opening it and drinking it straight from the bottle.
Half of the bottle later and he could still remember her, he could still remember the way she smiled and her eyes sparkled whenever he told her he loved her.
He didn't want that, he just wanted to forget. He didn't want to remember how his heart raced whenever they kissed, he didn't want to remember that she made him feel fucking butterflies in his stomach every time she said she loved him. He just wanted to get her off his mind.
He tried to drink his pain away, but it seemed impossible. Every single day his pain was getting bigger and bigger. He didn't have the strength to fight anymore, he just wanted to stop the pain.
After drinking the whole bottle he grabbed another one and went to their room. The room where they made love so many times, he missed running his hands down her body, hearing Emily moan his name, he missed the way she completed him.
The pain was unbearable, he didn't want to live with it anymore, so he wrote a note to whoever would find him, grabbed a bottle of painkillers that he had from when he had an injury and took them all while drinking his whiskey.
Then it happened, he saw her, she was there lying next to him. Emily smiled and kissed him and then he heard it, the words he'd been longing to hear ever since she left.
"I love you, Jon.
x.X.x
Sami was worried about Jon. Ever since Emily left, he wasn't the same. How could he be, when the love of his life left him without even saying it to his face.
Jon was his best friend, his brother, but Sami also understood Emily's side. The girl was hopelessly in love with Mox and nobody could deny it, she did what she thought was better for them.
He walked to Jon's house, knowing he would find him with a hangover from hell or most likely still drunk from last night. Most people gave up on him, but he couldn't, he would never give up on Jon, they were brothers and he would do whatever it took to help him.
When he got there, he saw that the door was unlocked. Sami wasn't surprised, these days Jon barely remembered his own name much less remembered to lock the door. He went inside and walked straight to Jon's bedroom, he'd most likely be passed out in bed.
He found him lying on the bed with his face down in the pillow.
Something shiny caught his eye, it looked like an engagement ring, it was on the bed next to Jon on top of a note. He picked the note and felt his blood run cold when he read it.
To the person who found me (probably Sami),
I can't do this anymore, ever since Emily left I feel like there's a part of me missing. I'm not strong enough to deal with this shit.
Goodbye Sami, you were the best friend anyone could have. I was lucky to be able to call you my friend, my brother.
If you ever see Emily again give her this ring, I had bought it before she left and I was going to propose to her tonight, but now she's gone.
Tell her I'll love her till I die.
Jon Moxley  
x.X.x
Emily was back in town.
Today marked a month of Jon's death. She already knew what happened, a friend who'd she still maintained contact with had told her he passed away.
At first, she couldn't believe it, she thought it was some sick joke, she even thought that maybe Jon came up with that to get back at her for leaving him.
Never in a million years, she would have thought the man she loved would take his life because of what she did. It was her fault. She killed Jon. She didn't "pull the trigger", but she "loaded the gun". And she would never forgive herself because of that.
Leaving Jon was the worst decision she'd ever made in her entire life. She started drinking to cope with the pain she was feeling, first little by little then enough to make her pass out. She hid it well though, no one in her new town even suspected she was an alcoholic with a broken heart. She would only drink alone at her new apartment, sometimes she would take pills too, some antidepressants, anything to numb the pain she was feeling. She never returned to Jon because she hoped he'd move on with his life, she never thought he was as broken as her.
Emily was at the cemetery, she had to talk to him, even if he couldn't listen. She hoped he did, she was always a believer in life after death. Jon used to make fun of her, telling her that if he died first, he would haunt her so that she knew if ghosts really existed or not.
She found his grave beneath a big willow. It was peaceful, just like he would've wanted. Emily sat on the grass in front of his headstone and took a small bottle from her purse and took a sip, cringing as the alcohol burned her throat.
Funny, she and Jon fought so much because of his drinking habits and now she was heading down the same path. But she had to, because sometimes when she drank enough, she'd see him again. His blue eyes looking at her like she was the only thing in the world and his trademark smirk that make her feel all kinds of things inside.
"I'm sorry Jon, it's all my fault."
She laid down on the grass with tears streaming down her cheeks, sobbing so hard that she could barely breathe. All the while drinking, hoping she'd drink enough to see him again.
"There's nothing I wouldn't do to have a chance to go back in time and stay with you instead of leaving like a coward."
"Emily!" She jumped hearing a male voice call her name. Emily got up and wiped her tears.
"Sami?" She looked at the black haired man.
"Haven't seen you in a while. " He opened his arms and Emily buried her face in his chest crying.
"I'm so sorry! It was all my fault, " she sobbed.
He pulled back just enough to look at her face and wiped her tears with his thumbs.
"Hey, it was not your fault. You hear me?" Emily looked down and Sami grabbed her chin. "Look at me, Mox wouldn't want you to blame yourself." He tried to comfort her, but that only made her cry harder.
"He died because of me," she let go of him and sat on the grass, pulling her knees to her chest. "The man I love is dead and I have no one but myself to blame."
"I have something to give you," he said, taking something of his pocket. "Jon left a note asking me to give you this, and I've had it with me all the time hoping I would see you again."
She took the little black box with shaky hands opening it and felt all the air leave her body when she saw the gold diamond ring.
"He'd bought it before you left and was going to give it to you the night he..." He scratched the back of his neck.
"The night he died, it would've been our fifth anniversary," she whispered. "I-I have to go, I'll see you tomorrow." She got up and started leaving.
"Emily wait!"
"Please Sami, I need to be alone right now."
"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. I assume you'll be at your old house?"
"Y-Yes," she stuttered. "I still have the key. I'll be there".
"Please take care."
"I will." With that, she ran to her car and took off.
She stopped at a liquor shop and bought two bottles of whiskey, ignoring the weird looks the owner was giving her.
When she got inside the house she and Jon used to share, the memories hit her like a ton of bricks. She remembered times where they were happy, times when they discussed how many children they would have and how their wedding was going to be.
He was going to propose to her and what did she do? Run away like a coward instead of trying to fix their relationship.
She put the ring on her finger and cried harder, she was supposed to be engaged to the love of her life right now. Instead, here she was, drinking like there was no tomorrow and her boyfriend was dead.
She went to their old room, bottle in hand, and fell to her knees when she looked at their bed. The bed where they made love, the bed where he made her his. She missed him so much, she missed how he would run his hands down her body and whispered in her ear that she was the best thing that ever happened to him.
He always thought she was too good for him, but that wasn't true. On the contrary, she was the one who never deserved all the love he gave her.
The pain she felt was unbearable and she missed him beyond words, maybe the best thing she could do was end it all and maybe, just maybe, she would join him wherever he was.
She grabbed the bottle of antidepressants she had in her bag and took his picture out of her wallet. It was from when he won the CZW title, he was so happy, his eyes were sparkling, he had a huge smile on his face, showing the dimples she loved so much. She remembered that night clearly. After celebrating with their friends, they went home and made love all night, only stopping when the sun was already rising. Just before she fell asleep, he whispered in her ear: "Someday, I'm gonna make you my wife."
She lay down in bed and took all the pills from the bottle, swallowing them down with some whiskey, and hold his picture to her chest. After a few minutes, she saw him again, looking at her, smiling with his dimples on full display. He leaned close and kissed her lips.
Then she heard the raspy voice that she missed more than anything in the world.
"I love you darlin'."
That alone was enough to make her heart race one more time like it did so many times before.
Before it finally stopped.
x.X.x
Next morning, Sami found Emily lying in bed, clinging to Jon's picture like her life depended on it.
Deep down he knew this was going to happen. And even though it hurt him, he knew that they couldn't live without each other. Now their pain was gone and they could finally be at peace.
Emily was buried next to Jon beneath the willow. That's what she would've wanted.
They were finally together, just how they belonged.
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kisskissbadguys · 7 years
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My Best Friend Jericho. Final Chapter.
PART THREE. The last show went absolutely perfect. I stood backstage and watched most of the show on the big screen that was right by the entrance for the stars. I enjoyed watching it there but of course I would of loved going into the audience more but I just wanted to relax and stay behind tonight, especially in my dress. That was a surprise. As the show came to an end and the huge roar of the crowd continued on while all the ring cleared, I made my way up to my hotel room to freshen up. I hit play on the speakers that were connected to my phone and Worth It by Fifth Harmony started blasting out as I turned the volume right up. I freshened up my makeup, making my eyes slightly darker and topped my lipstick up so I felt even more confident. I looked at myself in the long mirror that was in the bathroom and took a deep breath in trying to calm myself but also feel the music in me as I began to lip sync with it. I don’t know why but this just made me feel even more confident. I turned my straighteners on and decided I wanted to add my volume to the bottom of my hair because it always goes a bit weird and go in all directions after a few hours because of it being naturally wavy and curling it slightly keeps it under control. I decided to change my shoes to my oxblood, white and gold shoes instead as they matched my dress a lot more and I had never felt confident wearing nude shoes. “I’m worth it.” I sang at myself as the song came to an end and I tried to calm my nerves as they built back up. Rock Your Body by Justin Timberlake came on next and this always got me ready for dancing for some reason. I loved this song even when I was younger and I felt so ready the night after hearing the first chorus. I noticed my legs had stopped shaking and I bit my bottom lip as I looked at myself even closer in the mirror and was happy with what I was seeing. I finally stepped out of the bathroom and transferred my phone and purse into a little black clutch bag I had packed. I checked I had my watch on tight and my straighteners were off. Check. Check. I paced up and down at the bottom of my bed with a slight spring in my step as Rock Your Body continued on and I tried to sing both Justin’s part and the woman’s before it switched into Give Me Your Love by Sigma which I began to sing to again. “Give me your love. I need it. Give me your heart. I’m bleeding.” Which was when I realised that I felt every single word of this song as I thought about what I’m going to do next. It’s crazy how just in 10 days so many things can change. Crazy just how much you can realise things and how much you can grow. I started here as the makeup girl but I wanted to go back as me and tonight was the night I got what I wanted. I hit stop on the speaker and turned my phone down on to silent as I opened my door and walked down the corridor feeling like a goddess. My hair was flying over my shoulders as I walked slightly crossing my legs in front of me and I couldn’t of felt more sexier, more confident, more powerful than I did right that second. I made my way down the floor of stairs, slowly making sure I didn’t hurt my ankles on the way down because knowing me I would have but when I reached the main lobby I didn’t know what to do until I looked left and saw the hotel bar. With my new walk I made my way over the bar and had a little look around. Smiling, I turned back to look at the man who stood behind the bar. “Hello” He said to me. “Hi. I’d like a G&T please.” I said as the barman smiled and then went to walk off to get my order. I kept my body facing forward as I made a quick glance over my shoulder again before turning back. “And a double Jack Daniels and coke please.” “Of course, madam.” It was only a few moments when the two drinks I had ordered were in front of me on the bar and staring at me. I took a big sip of my drink and left the Jack Daniels. “Are you expecting anyone madam?” I looked up at the barman. “No.” I said “They’re already here.” The moment the words passed my lips, time felt like it suddenly slowed down and I was just working myself up for what was about to happen. “Would you like me to give the drink to them for you?” The thought had gone through my mind but I knew I had to do this myself. “No. That’s okay. I just need to calm down a bit. Could you turn the radio up a bit?” “Of course.” The gentleman replied as he walked off to turn the radio up. That’s My Girl by Fifth Harmony was playing. I love this song. It’s definitely the tune I listen to when I want to get something done. I did a few breathing techniques to calm myself down again before I just felt the adrenaline pump around my body and I shot up out my seat that I even scared the barman so much he jumped a little. I grabbed my drink in my left hand and the Jack Daniels in my right and made my way out through the glass door at the front which lead to the few tables out the front. It was such a lovely night and there was a breeze in the air which made it the perfect temperature for this time of night especially. I quietly closed the door and made my way to the small wall that was just in front of the glass window and stood in front of the man that was sitting on the wall as he had his feet up on the little pots on the floor just below him. I could feel people’s eyes burning on me from behind me but I didn’t care about them. The man in front of me finished the sip he was taking and then put his glass down on the wall next to him. I watched as his hand passed his grey shirt and black trousers and then I looked at him in the eyes. His eyes went from looking down me to back up and joining me in a deep stare. I noticed his jaw clench as I held out the glass of Jack Daniels in front of him and That’s My Girl came to an end on the radio and Deepest Blue by Deepest Blue came on instead. I watched his chest go in and out as he reached forward and took the glass out of my hand. His lips were together but as he pulled the glass closer to his chest a smile appeared in the corners. It was obvious he was trying to fight the smile but was finding it very hard. “You didn’t let me speak last night, Seth.” I said to the dark haired, toned man. His eyes caught mine again and I took a seat next to him on the wall. The last couple that were sitting outside with us got up as I sat down and left through the glass door. We had our own privacy but he didn’t reply. “I remember what you said.” There was more silence between us as he turned his head to the side and looked at me. I felt like he wanted to say something but didn’t know what to say or how. “I’m not with Jericho.” I finally say it. Out loud. “We’re friends that’s all. He’s my best friend and that’s all he’ll ever be.” “Are you sure?” His voice was so sweet. “Positive.” I paused. “I thought maybe we could be some day but it was made very clear yesterday that he doesn’t and will never feel that way.” His smiled disappeared but the whole reason I was here was because I needed to be honest with him. “Last night you said to me that I’m your everything and you’ll never leave me but I need to tell you something. I need to be honest with you.” I noticed his whole body turn an inch or two. He was fully invested in the conversation and I always loved that of him, whenever I spoke to him, I really did speak to him. He wasn’t just listening, he was really taking every detail in. “I started with the glam squad when I was 16. I was just doing it as an apprenticeship and after a year, I was a fully qualified makeup artist and I got a job with them straight away. I was 17 and doing my dream job. I couldn’t be happier.” I stopped myself and looked into his beautiful bright brown eyes as he studied everything I was saying. “Then one day, Jericho came into the studio but really it wasn’t just the studio, he came into my life and as you know, he hasn’t left. Then a year later.” I paused yet again and took in a deep breath not knowing how what I was about to say would affect Seth. “A year later we slept together.” I finally said it. I saw his jaws clench again and was held for a longer this time but he never broke eye contact. His head tilted slightly to the side, his eyes squinted and nostrils flaring. I’d never seen him look like that at me before but I’d seen him look like that when he was wrestling. When he was angry. “I don’t love him. I was just infatuated with him, hoping he’d feel the same way one day. I watched him when I was younger and then I had a night with him. It wasn’t love and it’s taken me so long to realise it. He doesn’t know it but he was my first and you never forget that. But these last few days I’ve realised that I don’t love him... I love you.” The words slipped out my mouth as I broke off eye contact and I took a few more breaths in trying to calm myself down. I was just setting myself up to be let down. The song moved on to Greenlight by Flo Rida. “I love you, too.” I heard the words come out of Seths mouth like slow motion. Quickly my head shot up and my breathing had calmed right down as I looked to him. He was sitting with a huge smile on his face as he was finally able to say the words that I knew deep down he’d wanted to say for so long. “I have from day one.” “From day one?” “I’ll never forget when I first laid eyes on you.” I felt a larger smile creep across my face as I knew exactly the moment he was going to talk about. “Charlotte gathered some of us in a circle. Me, you, Roman, Finn, AJ, Cena, Lesnar, Goldberg, Stone Cold, Sami, Charlotte, Sasha, Naomi, Jericho.” He rolled off the names of everyone in the group which made my checks go red as I thought about the events he was about to explain next. “Charlotte decided to go around the group and we played the theme song we liked best...and of course you had to play Naomi’s.” We both laughed at remembering it. “It was the first time I’d met everyone other than Naomi, Jericho and Charlotte too.” I burst out laughing and took my time to calm down. “You got so into that song and started dancing, twerking in the middle of the circle in front of Finn. Got to admit I was kind of jealous. Singing ‘I’m amazing’ which actually turned out to be spot on.” I looked up at him as he flicked his eyes up at me. “Really?” I questioned him as my smile got bigger that he was jealous all that time ago and was only just admitting it. “Yeah. I’m just going to be honest with you.” He said to me, putting me a bit on edge on what he was about to say. Oh dear, I hope I didn’t embarrass myself more than I thought I did. “Your dance moves were awesome.” “Serious?” “Yeah” “You scared the shit out of me.” He laughed. “Nah. We spoke about you for a time afterwards. Stone Cold came up to me for days just to talk about you. Finn had a serious crush on you, and Goldberg asked if you were seeing anyone because he was going to set you up with someone. He was very impressed.” “I completely forgot who was around that day. That song just takes over me.” He looked at me as he stroked his hair off his face and back into his hair bun which was his casual style outside of wrestling. “The thing was, yeah I was so jealous and I very much enjoy watching your body move like that in front of me but as soon as I saw your face, my heart began to race. A feeling I’d never had before started in my stomach and your face imprinted on my brain. I was obsessed with you. I still am. I always will be.” His words echoed through my mind. He is so perfect and the way he remembers everything from that day and how he said it was just beautiful. “A lot of people quickly found out about how I felt about you. They were worried I was too obsessed and tried to keep me away from you. That’s why I wasn’t able to speak to you for years and why everyone told you to stay away from me. But then the UK tour came and Roman thought we’d have a laugh going down to the women’s costume department but we got lost and ended up at the makeup studio and I just couldn’t keep away.” He nodded his head at me. “That was the best thing ever.” I watched as his smile got even bigger and his teeth came on show which just made mine come out too. His head fell down as he let out a little laugh. I think it was nervous laugh that he finally admitting this actually to me. Slowly he raised his head and looked at me again like a puppy, exactly like the first day in Cornwall. It was the happiest I’d been in so long and I think it was the same for him too. “I was so nervous about coming and talking to you today but I’m so glad.” “Yeah me too, I have to say, I was angry yesterday, I just thought I lost you.” “There’s no chance of that now. Seriously, once I’m in your life there’s no getting rid of me.” I chuckled as he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in tight. “The thing is” I started “I’m really worried.” I felt him pull me in even tighter. “Your worried that maybe we’ll spend a night together and I’ll turn around and say I don’t love you?” He read my mind. “Well, sort of. I’ve spent a large part of my life thinking one thing only to find out it was wrong. I don’t think I could deal with something like that again especially if it’s between us.” His other arm came around my front and he turned my whole body to face him. He looked me so deep in the eyes as we were only inches away from each other. I could smell he was wearing diesel as I moved in and so did he. Our lips touched. His were so soft and felt perfect against mine. Like they really were just meant to be. It felt like fireworks were going off around in my stomach and then all around my body and placed his hands on the side of my head and took control of the kissing. Everything felt right for once. This was the new me. And Seth.
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thrashermaxey · 7 years
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Ramblings: Gibson’s Finest (Nov 30)
It is far too small a sample, but over the past two nights we have seen 14 games and a combined 67 goals. That’s a rate of 4.79 goals per game. Considering the NHL has been a 3-2 league for years, the past two days have felt a lot more like the norm than the blazing scoring pace of the past two months. We’ve all been waiting for the other shoe to drop on this uptick in scoring. If scoring rates do drop, we’ll recognize the end of November as when they started to be reigned in. We’re not at alarm bells time, but I’m starting to see that old pattern.
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If you recall, earlier this season I swung a deal to land Martin Jones in a 24-team dynasty league where I am rebuilding a roster. I’ve never been that high on Jones having this to say at the time of the acquisition:
Now, I’m not very high on Jones. He was in my third tier for goalies this season because while he was guaranteed to be the Sharks’ starter, he wasn’t guaranteed to be any good. I am not certain that Jones or the Sharks are very good. So far, he has been excellent with a 0.927 percentage through nine games but no one should be making goalie decisions based on such a sample. I jumped at Jones figuring he’d be closer to his career 0.917 save percentage playing behind what looks like a creaky Sharks team. But the early returns are good thus far.
That was an important acquisition because until that point, I did not have a starter on my roster. This gave me a seat at the starting goalie table, of which there are only 31 places. I now had something to leverage in negotiations for a goaltender I actually wanted. That goaltender is now on his way to my club. I moved Jones for John Gibson in a deal that will surely be a disaster short term, but is a no-brainer long term.
I have discussed how crippling the Ducks’ injuries have been for Gibson’s value. He was a stay-away for me at every draft, because he was going higher than I was willing to draft a goalie who was going to tank the first half.
Gibson has faired quite well considering how thin the roster in front of him is rocking a solid 0.921 save percentage, but the Ducks are getting caved in allowing a league high 36.5 SOG/game. Gibson is essentially giving you what Robin Lehner has the past few seasons, which is fine, but is clear third goalie material.
I expect Gibson will be awesome once the Ducks get healthy. He has pedigree, talent and youth on his side. The 24-year-old has a career 0.921 save percentage, well above average, and a clear upgrade on Jones whose career rate is 0.918. Of course, Jones has been fantastic boasting a 0.930 save percentage, and a 2.05 goals-against average second only to Sergei Bobrovsky, but at 28 he doesn’t fit my rebuild timeline.
This trade was easy for me to make given my lack of interest in contending now and need to improve my roster for a far-away time. I do think that a Jones-Gibson swap could have merit as a sell-high/buy-low move even in one-year leagues.
Jones’ save percentage should regress towards his career average. Gibson should continue to stop pucks at a high rate, and will churn out wins whenever the Ducks get healthy. Gibson owners are in for a long couple of months waiting for Ryan Getzlaf and Ryan Kesler to return, and will bleed points in the standings, but if I were betting on one goalie to be better come head-to-head playoffs, I’d bet on Gibson. There’s nothing better come H2H playoffs than a goalie on a powerhouse team fighting for a playoff spot.
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The Ducks were without Brandon Montour for last night’s contest:
{source} <blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-lang="en"><p lang="en" dir="ltr">INJURY UPDATE: Randy Carlyle said Brandon Montour has a hyperextended elbow from the game in Chicago and will miss tonight's game.<br><br>"It looked a lot worse than it actually is. We don't want to risk it turns into anything long term."</p>— Anaheim Ducks (@AnaheimDucks) <a href="https://twitter.com/AnaheimDucks/status/935951809104855043?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">November 29, 2017</a></blockquote>
<script async src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>{/source}
This seems like a damn good way for Montour to lose his spot as the #1 power play guy to Cam Fowler. Turnabout is fair play, and indeed it was Montour who stole the gig while Fowler was out. Fowler skated 5:53 with the man-advantage and notched an assist. I’m not sure we’re close to figuring out the winner between these two.
Sami Vatanen is also in the mix, consistently skating top PP minutes, but he hasn’t been remotely productive this season, which continues a downward career trajectory.
Kevin Roy popped up on the Ducks’ top PP unit in Rickard Rakell’s spot. He skated almost seven minutes of PP time and notched a couple of points. This is a DEEP cut, but an option for folks in larger leagues.
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Some sweeping line changes for the Bruins with a bunch of players back from injury, and a bunch of players still out. Both Jake DeBrusk and David Krejci sat out, but Brad Marchand, David Backes and Ryan Spooner all returned to action. They ended up suiting up only 11 forwards and seven defensemen. Check out the lines:
24.91%  EV           BERGERON,PATRICE – MARCHAND,BRAD – PASTRNAK,DAVID
18.68%  EV           BACKES,DAVID – HEINEN,DANTON – NASH,RILEY
14.65%  EV           ACCIARI,NOEL – KURALY,SEAN – SCHALLER,TIM
5.86%    EV           BACKES,DAVID – SPOONER,RYAN – VATRANO,FRANK
That top line is where your bread will be buttered. Marchand’s a point-per-game guy now and David Pastrnak is right there. Meanwhile, Patrice Bergeron is a high-volume shooter and 60-point guy. All three are on the top power play unit.
Spooner joins that trio on the power play and has some moderate value as a result, but has essentially moved into that Sam Gagner role as a power-play specialist, skating on the fourth line. Spooner is skating only 12 minutes per game, with a quarter of that coming with the man-advantage. That puts a cap on his ceiling.
Backes is only relevant in multi-cat leagues where his PIM/Hits/SOG value remains strong. He won’t score more than 35 points, however.
Tuukka Rask has started consecutive games and fared okay, winning last night. His contract and name brand was always going to buy him more chances. Anton Khudobin remains an intriguing backup option, but the Bruins’ schedule is thin with just four games in the next 13 days, before a back-to-back on December 13/14. The schedule does tighten up at that point with four sets of back-to-backs before their bye week in early January. So we may not see Khudobin for a couple of weeks, but don’t write him off as an option if Rask continues to struggle.
Also, yes, bye weeks are back this season. They are jammed much tighter this season, with the first bye weeks starting January 7th and the last ones ending January 19th. It’s going to make for an interesting couple of weeks in fantasy hockey.
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I’m nowhere near dropping Vladislav Namestnikov, but it’s worth noting that the Stamkov line has slowed down over the past couple of weeks. As the third wheel on that line, he has naturally been hit hardest with three points in the last six games. I’m calling it a blip on the radar until we see more “struggles”. Stamkos, Kucherov and that Lightning power play are probably too good for Namestnikov to reach droppable territory, but I’m monitoring the situation.
I am more concerned with Tampa Bay’s second wave. It seemed inevitable based on usage, but the trio of Brayden Point, Ondrej Palat and Yanni Gourde has experienced some pull back. None of those three sees top unit PP time, nor do they get much exposure to Stamkos or Kucherov. That makes it really challenging for them to consistently put up points. Generally, the ceiling on a second unit guy is 60 points, and that’s a tough ceiling to hit. Over the past eight games Palat has five points, Point has four and Gourde has three. They are on pace for 49, 69 and 49 points respectively. Somewhere in that 50-60 -point range feels right for them, especially if an injury pops up.
Mikhail Sergachev should feel some pullback as well, although his current three-game scoring streak would beg to differ. He’s obviously a killer talent with a great shot, but 13% shooting is a big ask. He is also still skating just 14:19 per game, with only 1:47 of PP time. He has maxed out his efficiency with that PP time with eight PPP on the year. He is on pace for 26 PPP, a crazy total for such short usage. That’s why despite the 17 points he has banked, I wouldn’t be shocked if Sergachev fell shy of 40 on the year.
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Carey Price is sweeping through the league’s offensively inept! To be fair, the Senators have at least scored a middle-of-the-pack 2.91 goals per game, but their power play, much like those of Buffalo and Columbus (Price’s other victims) sits bottom-five in efficiency. The reality is that this is what Price is supposed to do. The best goalies are supposed to pad their stats against bad teams. While the schedule has been kind to Price in his return, he is doing exactly what you should expect if he’s still an elite talent.
Max Pacioretty notched an assist last nigh, giving him points in back-to-back games. Scoring overall has remained a struggle, but his shot volume remains through the roof. Pacioretty is a 30-goal/60-point machine. I’m not bailing out in the slightest. If anything, I want to try and buy low.
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Erik Karlsson doesn’t have a point since returning from Sweden. That makes seven straight scoreless outings. He built up a large enough buffer that he is still on pace to score 73 points despite this drought and despite missing the first five games of the season. He’s a superstar, no concerns here.
The only guy immune to the recent scoring struggles has been Mark Stone, cruising along at a point-per-game clip. I’m not sure Stone can sustain his 23.3% shooting, but he sure seems primed to hit another level after scoring at a 60-point rate the past three seasons. Fourth year breakout? YUP!
Some line shuffling for Ottawa:
#1           26.6%    BRASSARD,DERICK – RYAN,BOBBY – SMITH,ZACK
#2           21.7%    DUCHENE,MATT – HOFFMAN,MIKE – STONE,MARK
#3           12.4%    DZINGEL,RYAN – PAGEAU,JEAN-GABRIEL – PYATT,TOM
#4           9.7%      BURROWS,ALEXANDRE – DUMONT,GABRIEL – THOMPSON,NATE
Matt Duchene literally could not have two better linemates than Stone and Mike Hoffman. Chemistry is a whole other factor, but in terms of pure talent, this is the spot to be. Still sitting on just one point since joining the Senators. Everything has been there in terms of ice time, PP use, linemates and shot volume. At a certain point you have to give up. I don’t have Duchene in any pools, but I’d have a hard time staying patient. It’s going to click at some point because Karlsson is eventually going to put up some points. He has been silent for much of Duchene’s time in Ottawa. Karlsson is an inevitability. Duchene will have to follow. I’m just not sure folks can wait any longer.
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This is interesting:
{source} <blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-lang="en"><p lang="en" dir="ltr">So far, 121 qualified rookies have skated in the NHL this season. Of that group, 69 are older than Nathan MacKinnon.</p>— Matt Larkin (@THNMattLarkin) <a href="https://twitter.com/THNMattLarkin/status/935921846083571714?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">November 29, 2017</a></blockquote>
<script async src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>{/source}
Nathan MacKinnon is breaking out big time and I suppose it makes sense considering he is only 22!
Stuffed stat sheet for Erik Johnson with eight SOG, four blocked shots and two PIM. I hate to just recite a box score to you, but Johnson has been doing this all season. His point total won’t go much higher than 30 points, but if you score hits, blocked shots and SOG there is immense value to be had from a player who could eclipse 150 in all three categories. Plus, with Colorado’s improvements and a healthy Semyon Varlamov, Johnson is no longer a drain on plus/minus.
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A few goodies to discuss from Elliotte Friedman’s latest 31 Thoughts:
22. Both Mike Babcock and Barry Trotz sparred with their local media last week about line combinations. Babcock kept getting asked why Auston Matthews and Mitch Marner don’t play more together. He tried it, although it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. Only one player among the NHL’s top 50 in assists averages fewer than 16 minutes per game. That’s Marner, at 15:35. Next lowest is Will Butcher, at 16:03. Next forward is Nico Hischier, at 16:14.
I am okay with the lower deployment for Marner and Hischier. They both see plenty of PP time and are skating enough minutes to maintain relevance as forwards. For a lot of forwards, the boost into the 18-20 -minute range is from PK time anyhow. Those extra few minutes aren’t always of particular value.
For what it’s worth, none of the NHL’s top-50 assisters is seeing less than 2:00 minutes of PP time per game. Here are the lowest in terms of PP time:
  PP Time
E. Staal
2:06
Larkin
2:15
Nylander
2:15
JT Miller
2:16
Hischier
2:18
Rielly
2:18
Lucic
2:21
Marner
2:22
Green
2:28
  You would love to see all of these guys skating more PP time. The Maple Leafs, Wild, Red Wings and Devils all split PP time evenly between their first and second units, which is a great way to wind up with a bunch of 55-point scorers. However, in the case of Toronto, they are so lethal in all phases that it doesn’t matter as much.
I really wanted to discuss the low ice time for Butcher. He has remained relevant through hugely insulated deployment skating a ton of minutes on the power play and with nearly two-thirds of his 5-on-5 shifts coming in the offensive zone. With the cushion he has built, it’s practically a lock he’ll score 40 points. However, once pucks stop flying in at an obscene rate with Butcher on the ice (though the high percentage of offensive zone starts helps here), his scoring will slow. He’s also rocking a 60% IPP, which is high for a defenseman. That Butcher is producing next to no shot volume is going to be a killer if his scoring drops off even a little bit. That’s why I am pushing Butcher as a sell-high option.
Butcher could finish with 45 points and be a terrible own the rest of the way. That’s because 27 points in 58 games is substandard production, especially when you are only getting one SOG per game. In deep enough leagues that might clear the bar of respectable production, but in the average league that won’t cut it.
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Thanks for reading! You can follow me on Twitter @SteveLaidlaw.
from All About Sports http://www.dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-gibsons-finest-nov-30/
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