#[the first listener (colt)]
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wttcsms ¡ 2 months ago
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ hallmark holiday !!
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ᝰ.ᐟ tis the season to sit by the fireplace and indulge in cheesy, cliche, ever-so-predictable hallmark movies where we know the main couple will always get their happily ever after. alternatively: a scenario post detailing the cliche holiday romance you and your fave would be ♡ྀི ( fem!reader & sfw )
starring keiji akaashi, atsumu miya, shoyo hinata, seishiro nagi, shoei barou, yoichi isagi, jinpachi ego, noel noa, rin itoshi, oliver aiku, kento nanami, naoya zenin, porco galliard, colt grice, levi ackerman
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:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . haikyuu films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ
⋆⁺₊❅. dedicated to you starring keiji akaashi synopsis keiji akaashi finally gets his dream promotion to the literature department — sort of. see, first he's given what the company calls a "trial run", where they're testing to see how well he'll do. if this book that he edits makes it to the bestseller's list within its first month of publication, he gets the position permanently. fail, and he doesn't just get demoted — he gets fired. this dream of his becomes a nightmare whenever he realizes the author they're assigning to him is you — famous literary critic turned author. well, almost an author. this will be your first book you're ever writing. see, you've got a bit of a reputation. your reviews of novels, whether they'e indie books available only on kindle unlimited or works considered to be modern classics, are nothing short of scathing. rarely is there ever a book that seems to impress you. and while your reviews are valid, a group of scorned writers (who are all beloved by the booktok community, which, in your opinion, invalidates everything they do by default) publicly challenge you: if their writing is so bad, why don't you publish a book and show them how it's done?
exclusive sneak peek! "so you're my editor?" you raise an eyebrow at the man sitting across from you. he's wearing a brown blazer, his hair neatly parted with gel, and he has such a mild-mannered aura about him that you want to groan in agony. of course, the only shmuck who'd be willing to touch your book (book is generous; you barely have half of a first draft) would be some dweeb who's probably been out of work for like, the last year. "yes. i'm keiji akaashi. we spoke over email." he reaches into his workbag, probably to hand you a business card that you'll end up tossing in the cafe's trashcan. "oh. from the tone of your emails, i was expecting someone..." you don't finish your sentence. "someone what?" he asks. "it's nothing." you wave your hand, as if to tell him that the comment was useless anyway. "listen, i'm sure i'm not your ideal client, but we don't have to keep meeting. i'll make your job easy by making sure you never have to edit or touch a single letter on my drafts. just let me handle this my own way, and i'm sure—" "no." you don't normally let people interrupt you, but the shift in his tone makes you pause. you stare at him curiously, only this time, you notice that keiji akaashi doesn't seem so mild-mannered right now. he continues. "i'm not sure where you got the bright idea that you would just write this book on your own, but you don't make a deal with a major publishing house just to go about the project like all the indie authors you criticize in your little column. the minute you signed that contract, you became my responsibility." akaashi looks you in the eyes as he tells you, "so from this point forward, your book is about to become our book. and i only plan on producing bestsellers." you smile at that, leaning forward and matching the intensity of his gaze. "good. because i only plan on writing a bestseller."
⋆⁺₊❅. make it to christmas starring atsumu miya synopsis break-ups can be tough. coming home for the holidays can be tougher. combine these two situations, and throw in the fact that no one can know about said break-up, and this might be the toughest situation to go through. here's the deal: you and atsumu, who've been together for the past four years, are deemed "most likely to get married". your friends, family, and even strangers on the internet all think you two are the couple that will make them believe in the power of love again. with this type of pressure, neither of you are willing to wreck the holiday spirit by announcing your break-up, and really, mama miya just got a particularly bad diagnosis. the last thing either of you want to do is break her heart some more. so, you both agree to pretend to still be together, all for the sake of "saving christmas", so to speak. but then, mama miya walks in on the two of you in the kitchen at the worst possible moment. atsumu is down on one knee, kneeling in front of you. finally, some good news this season: her baby boy is getting married to the love of his life.
exclusive sneak peak! "atsumu, this whole thing is a mess!" you whisper-shout at him, leaning down and examining the space beneath the floor kitchen cabinets in search of your missing earring. "well, you can't back out now!" he whisper-shouts back, crawling on all fours to help you look for the damn earrings osamu's new girlfriend gifted you. "what would we tell everybody?" "how about the truth?" "we will tell them the truth! right after christmas." "you idiot, your mom has her next appointment the day after christmas! the whole point i agreed to this was so that way we wouldn't crush her with a whole day of bad news!" "you're right." your back is turned to him, but even without looking, you know he's nodding his head. "we should just wait 'til the month's over then." "that's even worse!" now you finally do turn around, crossing your arms against your chest. "i really think this was a bad idea. we need to figure out how to come clean before this whole thing blows up in our faces." he sighs, knowing that you're right. you always are. it's what he loves — loved; he's not quite sure if he's still allowed to use the L-word concerning you — about you. then, he perks up, catching a glint of your missing earring. propping himself up on his good knee, he presents the ring to you earnestly. "oh!" you grin, happy that atsumu found the damn thing. now, osamu's girlfriend will be properly placated. before you can reach for it, three things happen in rapid succession. one: the kitchen door swings open. two: mama miya assesses the situation quickly, and lets out the biggest shriek of excitement heard 'round the world. three: this whole thing definitely just blew up in your faces.
⋆⁺₊❅. v for valentine starring shoyo hinata synopsis you hate valentine's day — after you found out your (former!) boyfriend of three years was cheating on you on this very special holiday, you see what the 14th is all about. commercialized "love": packaged in bright pink packaging and red hearts that get sold to unsuspecting fools. however, as a wedding planner, you still have to love love. it's just hard to whenever the wedding you're planning is set for feb. 14th... and it's to your ex-boyfriend and the girl he cheated on you with. you know it's petty and ridiculous and horribly immature, but you're plotting and scheming ways to ruin their wedding without it being tied directly back to you. the only obstacle in your way, though, is the bride-to-be's annoying cousin who immediately catches onto your plans and seems intent on putting a stop to you.
exclusive sneak peek! "what do you think you're doing?" you jump up, startled at the sudden intrusion. everyone else is supposed to be occupied, oohing and ahhing at bridezilla's reception dress reveal. "nothing." you say, in that tone of voice that makes it very, very obvious to anyone who can hear that you were definitely up to something. "really?" hinata asks. "because it looks like you're trying to convince the dog to tear up my cousin's high heels." busted. (you're too flustered and trying to come up with an excuse as to why there's peanut butter on his cousin's designer heels that you don't notice the way hinata looks like he's trying to hold back his laughter.)
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:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . blue lock films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ
⋆⁺₊❅. married by christmas starring seishiro nagi synopsis as the only daughter of the mikage business empire, not to mention having an older brother who could care less about the family business, you should be rightfully inheriting a good majority of mikage corp. on the day of your twenty-fifth birthday, you anticipate the metaphorical keys to your family's empire. instead, you receive the worst news of your life: reo's going to lead mikage corp starting on christmas day (a gift that he never asked for), and since you're still unmarried at the decrepit age of twenty-five, your grandparents are demanding you start going on blind dates with the men they've found for you. when you angrily confront your parents, wanting to know why everything will be handed to reo, who doesn't even want this responsibility, the answer is clear: they need a man to be the face of mikage. if you marry someone, even if you're the one pulling the strings from behind, you can still inherit the business by having your husband look like the one in control. your parents know that you don't want to get married, but what they don't know is that you're willing to do anything to get what you've worked so hard for. you didn't spend years abroad to study at the best business school in the world and to build connections all for it to go down the drain. but then you realize that all these men your grandparents found for you won't be willing to just sit back and let you do all the work. they want power of their own. where in the world could you possibly find someone you can trust to be married to in these conditions? and then it dawns on you: your older brother's best friend! from what you remember of him during high school, nagi wants nothing more in life than to just be able to make easy money and relax, left to his own devices. he's never taken advantage of reo, so he'll probably stay loyal to you. and a quick google search reveals that nagi's never even been in a public relationship. he's perfect.
exclusive sneak peek! "you bought me a ring?" you stare at the velvet box resting on your living room table, eyeing it like a bomb that might explode at any minute. "huh? oh yeah, why?" nagi's voice is cracking through the speaker of your phone. you're not sure where he is; you don't really know much about your husband-to-be, you realize. you should get him to email you his daily schedule. you plan on making note of that in your outlook calendar, after this call. "i didn't expect you to get me a ring." you frown. "forward me the invoice for it, and i will make sure to reimburse you. in the future, please refrain from making any purchases related to our relationship unless i clearly allow it and expect it. christmas in front of my family, and public birthday celebrations, for example, are occasions in which i'll allow gift-giving." "you're sayin' my future wife doesn't want gifts?" nagi wants to choke reo. he's the one who said you expected to be spoiled, and all the guys on his team seem to be adamant that buying gifts for your significant other is the way to go. if he knew you were going to start talking business around him, he wouldn't have gone through the hassle of finding a decent jeweler in this city. "this is a business partnership, nagi. not a romantic relationship. in business, you buy gifts only to bribe. are you trying to bribe me right now?" no, he thinks. he was only trying to make you happy.
⋆⁺₊❅. a king for christmas starring shoei barou synopsis serving as king but hated by a small, powerful group of witches, the ruler of the kingdom, shoei barou, is cursed and expelled to another world where his tyranny will not be tolerated. the only way to return back to his world is for him to learn benevolence and empathy. they certainly gave him a challenge; it'll be hard to be kind and empathetic whenever you're magically transported to the twenty-first century without a single clue as to how the world works. luckily, he ends up transported here, unconscious, on the front porch of a tired, overworked, graveyard shift ER nurse. you signed an oath to protect and save all lives, so you can't exactly kick the large man passed out by your front door, now can you?
exclusive sneak peek! "where is your horse?" barou asks you, following you around your house. him being your shadow is odd, considering how he towers over you so much, he's actually casting a shadow onto you. seriously, he's blocking the sunlight peeking through your blinds. "my horse? you think i'm a horse girl?" you whirl around to meet him, nearly bumping into his muscular chest as you do so. he makes a face, not sure what to make of your exclamation. "how will you travel into town?" "like everyone else. with a car." you hold up your key fob, and he immediately snatches it from your hands, staring at the fob curiously. "you travel using this?" he points to it, and you nod. "witch." he says. "what did you just call me?" you stare at him, stunned. "witch." he repeats, still holding onto your key fob. "to travel in a contraption so small... magic is the only reasonable explanation. you must be a witch. why didn't you tell me this sooner? we can use this—this car, and you can take me back to my kingdom at once!" he straightens his back, holding your key fob out of your reach. "witch, i demand you transport me back home." "i should've kicked you when i had the chance." you mutter, wondering how hard this stranger banged his head to forget what a car is.
⋆⁺₊❅. the perfect playbook starring yoichi isagi synopsis bastard munchen is forcing all of its players to dedicate their time during the holiday season to an approved community outreach initiative. isagi sees nothing better than to return to his hometown, and help volunteer to coach the local little league team that's 1) underfunded and 2) currently coached by the only person kind enough to volunteer: you, the fresh-out-of-college brand new, bubbly elementary school teacher. yoichi might not be the biggest believer in team work makes the dream work, but you don't make a bad teammate... not in the slightest.
exclusive sneak peek! "isagi," you frown as you stare at the whiteboard, trying to make sense of all the x's and o's and arrows he's scrawled on them. "you want to train this group of seven to nine year olds... to become strikers?" he nods, pleased that you're finally starting to see his vision. "yes, exactly!" "the recreational elementary-aged youth team... is going to undergo a simulation of what you went through as a high school boy?" "well, it'll be tweaked accordingly. with your guidance, of course! it'll be a more tame version, but i'm sure the results will be the same." when he smiles at you like that, you can't help but want to give in. "and besides, i'm proof that project blue lock is a very beneficial program. look how i turned out!" you think back to when you curiously searched him up on the internet. "top 10 isagi crash-outs on the field" was not the result you were expecting. but he's been nothing but kind and enthusiastic around you and the kids. it's not like he's some egotistical maniac who only cares about soccer, right? "okay." you nod slowly. "project baby blue lock it is, then."
⋆⁺₊❅. cease and assist starring jinpachi ego synopsis former collegiate athlete with a professional career ahead of you, your dreams of becoming the world's best women's soccer player gets crushed the minute you suffer the worst injury possible. now, you spend your time trapped in an office, working for the japan football association, waiting for the decades to pass you by so you can finally retire and die. until the head of the association pulls you to his office and lets you know that you're going to be going undercover; apparently, jinpachi ego is creating a soccer program that's supposedly going to change japanese soccer, and he wants you to report back to him and the jfa so they can anticipate everything ego plans on throwing at them. hired to project blue lock as ego's personal assistant, you spend practically the whole day with him. he's annoying, never listens to your advice, mansplains everything, and refuses to eat anything resembling a vegetable unless you force it down his throat. he's also the only person to match your passion for the sport, and the only one to call you out for not continuing to chase your dreams. the more time you spend by his side, the less and less you want to report to the jfa...
exclusive sneak peek! "sir," you grit your teeth, clutching onto the files in your hand because you know if your hands are unoccupied, you'd be sprinting across the room so you could personally choke jinpachi ego out. "i have an mba from the top business school in this country. i've played soccer since i was a child, and was one of the most decorated d1 players back in college. i know i'm just your assistant, but i can promise you, i am capable of far more than heating up your cup ramen." he doesn't even turn around his chair so he can face you; instead, he's still laser focused on the massive monitor in front of him, his eyes occasionally flickering to the other dozen screens surrounding the room. he doesn't even acknowledge your words. "are you seriously going to ignore me?" you snap, strangling the poor papers in your grasp. "are you done speaking? last time i tried to answer back, you yelled at me for not letting you finish." he still isn't looking at you, but you're certain he sees the nasty scowl that crosses your face. somehow, ego is capable of seeing everything. "forget it. you're impossible." "and you're a failure of a player." he tells you, right before you can storm out. "excuse me?" "you keep talking about how good you were at soccer, yet you never even bothered to pursue it after you got out of physical therapy. good in college doesn't mean anything when it's been so long. that's why i don't listen to you." he turns his chair, finally staring at you. "when you prove to me that you're still as good as you claim you used to be, maybe i'll take your advice. until then, get out of my office until i call you back."
⋆⁺₊❅. the only exception starring noel noa synopsis at thirty-three years old with not a single serious romantic relationship for the past decade or so, and with society basically treating any single woman in her thirties like a cow put out to pasture, you have come to terms with the fact that you'll be a spinster. it's fine. you have a successful career in a male-dominated field, you're still as beautiful as ever, and it's not like romantic love is going to fill the void. you have a supportive family and even more supportive friends; you don't need anything else. at thirty-five years old, with a successful soccer career and a body still performing at peak physical fitness, noel noa is considered to be one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. the public considers him to be at his prime, even. and yet, he seems to want nothing to do with romance. he plays his sport, he does a damn good job of it, and then he goes back to his isolated home in the french countryside to spend his days and nights entirely and utterly alone. for two people content to spend the rest of their lives without a partner, the minute you walk into his life as the new assistant coach for bastard munchen, you both slowly start to realize that maybe, you both could just try being alone together.
exclusive sneak peek! he doesn’t pay you any attention whenever you enter the locker room; after all, this isn’t the first time one of his teammates’ girlfriends walked in here unannounced. he can only hope that your heated rant and accusations of cheating don’t take a long time because practice starts in ten minutes, and noel noa is known to be particularly anal when it comes to sticking to a strict schedule. “hey!” igor says, being the only one bold enough to block you from taking another step further in the locker room. “you can’t be in here, even if you are dating or related to one of the players.”  “well, that’s certainly a respectable rule, but it doesn’t apply to me.”  “i'm the vice captain of this team.” he replies, letting his title to do the rest of the talking. right now, in this room, he’s the authority, second only to noel. noel, who's too busy stretching his legs to really concern himself with something as silly as a female intruder in the men's locker room. the altercation between you two is nothing more than white noise to him. “oh? that’s nice.” you hum, before adjusting the lanyard around your neck so that the little ID card, the one that’s used to allow people entrance into the gym during practice, is showing. it must be brand new because it shines underneath the fluorescents of the locker room. “i’m your new assistant coach.”  well, you’ve certainly got noel's attention now.
⋆⁺₊❅. all in starring rin itoshi synopsis even with worldwide fame, rin itoshi still prefers to be left alone. deemed the "prodigal recluse" by the media, no one knows what he gets up to during the offseason. the truth is, rin returns back to his hometown and spends his free time training by himself in the frozen field he used to train in during middle school. he's never been found out here, and that's how he likes it. until you, an ambitious sports journalist visiting your parents during the holidays, gets lost and stumbles upon him playing soccer by himself. you're convinced that this is fate. no one else in your field has ever gotten this close to him, especially outside an official game, and you're begging him for an exclusive interview. you're persistent and annoying, and rin finally agrees, with one catch: you have to score against him on a one-on-one soccer match. (he just doesn't anticipate how persistent and annoying you can be. when you set your mind on a goal, you're going all in.)
exclusive sneak peek! "you have to admit, it's pretty impressive i even kept up this long." you're panting, the palms of your hands digging into your knees as you hunch over, struggling to catch your breath. the icy air makes every exhale visible. rin looks like he hasn't even broken a sweat. "a child could've kept up for even longer." he says, the soccer ball resting underneath his right foot. "if you're this tired already, you might as well just head home and go enjoy your vacation with your family." the and leave me alone goes without saying. "why? intimidated by my shocking athletic abilities already?" you think you've finally got your breathing situation figured out, and you straighten up. "i'm going to get that interview, itoshi." "if you say so." he shoves his hands in his pockets, his own breath visible in the icy air. "i'm ready for our rematch." you tighten your ponytail, giving rin such a fixed, determined stare that it surprises him. you really are serious about this, aren't you? "and don't think about going easy on me." the corners of his mouth nearly turn upwards. he matches your gaze, preparing to shoot the ball. "i never will."
⋆⁺₊❅. meet your match starring oliver aiku synopsis tired of cleaning up his messes and struggling to reform his playboy image, oliver aiku's publicist has to break out the business card locked away in her "in case of emergency" glass case. she's calling in the calvary — you, the celebrity world's most respected matchmaker. every celebrity couple you've set up has either dated for years (and more to come) or even got their happily ever afters by saying i do at the altar. you've got a one hundred percent success rate. you're making the perfect matches left and right. hinge who? when your publicist bestie calls you, begging to help her most troublesome client finally find love and quit playing around, you already know who she's referring to. oliver aiku. he's hellbent on ruining your perfect run, and you're hellbent on finding him the love of his life so he can finally settle down and stop causing your best friend to spend her whole paycheck on migraine medicine. in his hyper-competitive field, he's never quite met someone as obnoxiously stubborn as you — nor has he ever had as much fun playing games with anyone else. it looks like the two of you have finally met your respective match.
exclusive sneak peek! "what the hell is the matter with you?" you glare at him from across the table, but oliver doesn't seem the least bit ashamed. you're not shocked; you don't think he has the capacity for shame. "what are you talking about?" he tries to sound innocent, but it doesn't work. look at him — there's nothing innocent about the man sitting across from you. "i'm talking about you bringing another woman to the date i set up for you!" you hiss, trying to remain calm and not draw attention to the two of you. he takes a long sip of his coffee, dragging out the silence as you wait for his explanation as to why he wants to make things as difficult as possible. "i was just testing her." oliver is smiling. you want to punch him in his stupid face and see if he'll still be grinning at you. probably. he's annoying like that. "during a situation like that, you can tell if the girl's gonna be a struggle to deal with depending on her reaction." "you know what my reaction would be if you did that to me?" you lean forward, and he meets you halfway, also leaning in closer. he's still smiling. you hate his stupid smile. "oh? what would your reaction be?" "nothing. you'd never even get the chance to pull that shit on me. as if i'd ever be dumb enough to go on a date with the likes of you." you lean back in your seat, opening up your phone and furiously marking off girls from your list. the list gets smaller after every one of his failed dates. oliver sits back, too, watching the way your brows furrow as you stare at your screen, not even giving him the time of day. he never stops smiling; finds it hard not to smile when he's in your presence.
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:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . jujutsu kaisen films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ
⋆⁺₊❅. the roadtrippers starring kento nanami synopsis you're traveling solo for the first time ever after your fiancé breaks things off with you to date his 19 year old neighbor. kento nanami's a single father/investment banker trying to make it back home in time for his daughter's birthday. you're both trying to travel across the country, but when a massive snowstorm delays the same flight you two were going to take home, you decide to team up and just travel together to try to make it your respective destinations on time. from weirdos on the train, flat tires on scarily cheap rental cars, and posing as a married couple at a strict, christian-owned bed&breakfast, you go from strangers traveling cross-country together to being connected together in ways neither of you have ever connected with your previous partners before.
exclusive sneak peek! "whoa, you're doing this like it's nothing." you stare in awe as nanami rolls up the sleeves to his button-down, exposing his strong forearms as he turns the wrench, loosening the lug nuts of the flat tire of the rental car. "that's because it is nothing." he tells you, glancing up at you. you're wrapped up in his blazer, but the chill of the outside air still bites at you. "you should go back inside the car and wait for me. i'll be done in a second." "it wouldn't be fair." you explain to him. "you've been doing all the work this entire trip. braving the elements with you for a few minutes is the least i can do." "you don't have to do anything." he looks up at you, his stare bringing heat back into your body. "you don't owe me. i really don't mind helping you. if you really want to do me a favor, then go back inside the car and stay warm."
⋆⁺₊❅. snowed in starring naoya zenin synopsis you've never had great luck, but with your good attitude, you don't let life get you down. good karma finally comes your way when you win an all-expenses paid trip at a luxury ski lodge. this is where your good luck ends. apparently, the ski lodge accidentally double-booked the cabin: you're supposed to be staying there... and so is the rudest, most arrogant and condescending lawyer you've ever met. naoya zenin booked this place to get away from the city and work in peace, away from the incessant nagging of his family and employees. instead, he's met with even more inconveniences, the biggest one being you, some teacher from a small town he's never heard of and couldn't care less about. before either of you can head back to the main lodge to complain, a snowstorm comes rolling in, effectively leaving the two of you snowed in together for the time being. no cell service, no internet, and no one but each other. fantastic.
exclusive sneak peek! "where are you going?" he asks, eyeing your towel and pajamas in your hand. "to go shower?" you point to the bathroom door. after claiming he wants nothing to do with you, and then setting a ground rule that you can't speak to him unless he allows it, you figured he'd just leave you to your own devices. "unless i need permission from you to do that, too." "i checked the water tank. there's barely anything, and even less hot water." "and this is my problem because...?" "i need to shower, too. i know women have a tendency to take hour-long hot showers, but that isn't going to work here." somehow, you find it hard to believe any woman would want to be close enough to naoya to where he can track their shower-time. "fine. i'll take a lukewarm shower for fifty-five minutes then." you reach for the bathroom door handle. "will that satisfy you?" he's up in a flash, his body so close to your own. you've got nowhere to go but to back up against the closed door, trying to get some space between the two of you. "you don't want to know what'll satisfy me."
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:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . attack on titan films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ
⋆⁺₊❅. falling onto you starring porco galliard synopsis when you’re forced to return to your hometown to take care of your grandmother after her hip surgery, you’re roped into volunteering for the town’s fire department charity event. paired with the constant scowling firefighter who rescued you from a tree back when you two were kids and classmates, you’re tasked with organizing the firefighter calendar auction. between awkward photo shoots, bickering over decorations, and trying to outbid a local rival for the best auction spot, you start to see that maybe porco galliard isn't all scowls and shambles arrogance — after all, he's there to catch you every time you fall.
exclusive sneak peek! "no." "it's for charity, galliard." you toss him the santa hat, not the least bit shocked that he manages to catch it without batting an eye. "you're like, morally obligated to do this. unless you want to ruin christmas. that's fine by me, too." "i won't be ruining christmas. you're just a pervert." you gasp. "i'm not the one who came up with these positions!" "you're still going to buy the calendar." he points out. "yeah, for charity! not to actually look at it!" "you sure about that? because you seem pretty damn persistent that i should take off my shirt and let you take pictures of me in nothing but suspenders, my work pants, and this ridiculous hat." "that's the most stereotypical firefighter photoshoot for a sexy christmas calendar!" he pauses. "you callin' me sexy?"
⋆⁺₊❅. the one starring colt grice synopsis colt grice has the worst luck known to man. when it comes to pay-it-forward chains, he always gets stuck in front of a minivan for a family of nine. naturally, the only people who crash into his car are the ones with no insurance. he felt bad for a coworker during a work potluck, stomached some of their disgusting food, only to end up getting food poisoning from it. the only thing colt ever seems to have good luck with is relationships... specifically, his good luck seems to transfer over to the girl he's currently dating. see, the thing is, every time colt gets dumped, his exes always end up finding the love of their lives. all his exes are happily married or in long-term relationships, with all of them finding their soulmates right after breaking up with him. he thinks no one else in the world has luck as terrible as his, but then he meets you. after a conversation exchange during a long line, you reveal that it seems like every ex you have has found their soulmate directly after breaking up with you! which is when you two hatch a plan: in order to help each other find "the one", you both agree to date each other for a period of time and then dump each other, all in the hopes of finally meeting your soulmate.
exclusive sneak peek! "your soulmate is super lucky, by the way." "what makes you say that?" colt turns to his side so he can look at you. you're still laying on your back, gazing up at the stars above. "just... i can't imagine why anyone would want to break up with you. you're honestly the best boyfriend i've ever had." colt's heart jumps at your words. he's glad it's so dark outside; otherwise, you might see the blush creeping on his cheeks. you continue on. "i'm going to be really sad when we have to breakup." he knows it's not in the agreement, but he can't help it. he thinks, then let's not. instead, he swallows hard and makes a half-hearted joke. "don't worry. you'll meet your soulmate soon, all thanks to me." you laugh, but you don't tell him how you're really hoping that he's the one for you.
⋆⁺₊❅. girls just wanna have fun! starring levi ackerman synopsis you're the prime minister's daughter wanting to get the proper college experience during your very last year of university. he's your marginally older, no-nonsense, militant bodyguard. you're determined to check things off your college girl bucket list (skip lecture, eat questionable dining hall food, go to a frat party), and he's determined to keep you safe.
exclusive sneak peek! you’ve been meticulously planning this all week. the perfect outfit is tucked under your oversized hoodie, and you’ve even plotted out the quietest route to avoid any of the creaky floorboards in your family’s massive home. all that’s left is to slip past levi, who seems to have an annoying sixth sense for every bad decision you attempt to make. sliding your shoes on, you tiptoe toward the front door, holding your breath as you slowly twist the handle. almost there. just a few more seconds, and— “you have exactly five seconds to explain what the hell you’re doing.” the deep, authoritative voice freezes you in place. slowly, you turn to find levi standing in the shadows, his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in disapproval. the flat line of his mouth isn't forming a frown or a scowl, but the disappointment is evident. “levi,” you start innocently, trying to cover your tracks. “i was just—” “if you're just going to lie, don't bother saying anything.” he interrupts, stepping into the light. his eyes flick to your shoes and back to your guilty expression. “where are you really going?” you sigh, crossing your arms defensively. “it’s just a party, okay? everyone’s going, and i’m not some teenager who needs her parent's permission to go out at night.” “you might not need your father's permission,” he says, his voice low and deliberate, “but you do need my protection. and if you think i'm letting you sneak off to some frat house full of drunk idiots without so much as telling me, then you’re dumber than i thought.” you glare at him, your frustration bubbling over. “you’re not my dad! i can take care of myself.” he leans against the doorframe, unflinching. “if you could take care of yourself, you wouldn’t have tried sneaking out like a common criminal." “ugh,” you groan, childishly stomping your foot. “why do you always have to ruin everything?” “why do you always have to make my job harder?” he counters, his tone sharp but his eyes softening just slightly. for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. then levi exhales, rubbing his temples as if you’ve given him the worst headache of his life. “here’s the deal,” he finally says. “you stay home tonight, and i’ll consider letting you go to the next party — with me shadowing you the whole time.” your jaw drops. “you can’t be serious.” “correct. i never plan on letting you go to one of those idiotic parties.” he says. “now go change out of that ridiculous outfit you're wearing under your sweatshirt, and get some sleep. you've got class at eight.”
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kedreeva ¡ 8 days ago
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Well, I've had a bit of a rough week. A deer totaled my (new-to-me I've-only-had-it-a-year) car when it rammed headlong into to side of it on a dark back road, and set off the passenger side side airbags (on the doors, not the dashboard ones). Thankfully I was completely unharmed aside from ringing ears and it did not do a whole ton of damage running into the side of the car (as opposed to the damage that would have been done the other way around, if I had hit it), but unthankfully it hit the airbag sensors and the airbags going off made it unable to be repaired for less than the cost of the car. The deer did not even have the decency to drop dead on the spot so I could eat it, it took off running back into the woods (at least according to the guy behind me that saw it hit me, because personally I thought someone had fuckin' shot my car, because the airbags are apparently explosively powered and smell like gunpowder and smoke).
So, I've been away dealing with that and looking for another car. I was not in love with the Patriot, even though I stuck cool jurassic park stickers on it (rather, I stuck cool jurassic park stickers on it because I was not in love with it), and I was still badly missing my Liberty. So imagine my surprise when I found a new listing for a 2010 jeep liberty with nearly the exact same number of miles on it (70,139) as the patriot I just lost (70,106). It looked practically pristine, came with a clean bill of health from Carfax, and was within a few hours drive to go get. On top of that, it was listed as marked down because it was at non-same dealership that wanted space back, so it was less than the insurance payout. I still called, and I still asked them to do me better than what they had it up for, and the guy was SO busy explaining how much trouble it would be to give it to me for the price I asked with all the taxes and fees and stuff included but that he would valiantly go talk to his manager that I didn't get a chance to say I MEANT just the car price not including those things. So he came back with a price, I asked again for lower again if I could bring cash today (offering the price I wanted to pay total in the first place, had he stopped to listen) and they accepted it.
So, I drove down in my mom's car with her, and took him out for a spin. He drives like a new car. Whisper quiet compared to the lawnmower of car the Patriot was. Tight steering, gas, break pressures, good wheels, great pickup and go, rides high like my old Liberty did, huge backseat/trunk space for caging and hay and stuff. They had detailed the inside so it was pristine and even smelled like new car. Stunning little beast.
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When I climbed in to drive home, I found a heads-up penny sitting on each front seat. I think probably the dealership guy put them there in reality, but I choose to believe that it was a peace offering from the universe. Or perhaps the car trying to tell me his new name: Lucky.
I managed not to cry about having a car so much like my good boy Colt back under my hands, but it was a close thing. Anyway, here's to the next 200k miles! Let's see if we can beat Colt's record :)
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storiesforallfandoms ¡ 9 months ago
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the space cowboy and the pa ~ tom ryder;the fall guy
word count: 2869
request?: no
description: in which the big movie star takes interest in the pa of his new movie
pairing: tom ryder x female!reader
warnings: swearing, tom being tom, use of y/n
masterlist (one, two, three)
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When you were hired as a PA on a major sci-fi blockbuster, you were obviously beyond ecstatic. It was a big deal for many reasons, and it would look great on your resume as the first film you worked on.
What you didn't expect was for your job to essentially become you running after Tom Ryder all the time.
You knew who Tom Ryder was before you were hired on to Metalstorm. Everyone did. His face was on every screen and every poster. But besides knowing him for his work, you were also warned about his work ethic and entitled attitude. You couldn't say you were surprised to hear that. You figured most celebrities of his status were all into themselves. But when you started working with him, you realized it wasn't just his stuck up-ness, it was his lack of work ethic. Truly, you had no idea how any of his movies ever got made.
You didn't agree to work on Metalstorm so you could chase a self obsessed ego maniac around all day and convince him to come do his job. That's now what a PA is meant to do. On the plus side, Jody was very sympathetic and apologetic to you over this. Jody had worked with Tom for years, and had actually been the one to warn you about Tom's behavior. She knew you didn't want to just be a lacky to Tom Ryder, but when Tom's personal assistant was constantly out taking care of his dogs or getting him his super (annoyingly) specific Starbucks order, and everyone else was too busy trying to make a huge blockbuster to do it themselves, the responsibility had to fall to someone.
So, when you arrived on set to see Jody with her head in her hands, a sign that she was stressed, you already knew what was happening.
"He was supposed to be here an hour ago," Jody said, exasperated. "We don't have much time left for this shoot and there's still so much to be done, but he's nowhere to be found."
You looked up at Gail, sipping her usual Diet Coke. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I've already gone to his trailer twice. Each time he said he was on his way to set."
"Clearly he wasn't," you muttered. "I'll go find him."
"(Y/N), no - " Jody started.
"Try to film something with Colt in place of Tom or something," you told her. "I'll get the dickhead to set."
You made off for Tom's trailer. It was incredibly easy to find among the sea of other cast and crew trailers because it was the biggest one. He could probably live out of it if he hadn't gotten a huge apartment to stay in while filming. His name was printed in big, bold letters on the door, as if the size of the trailer alone wasn't enough to signal that it belonged to the star of the movie.
You walked in without knocking, something you'd realize later you might've regretted if you had found Tom in a more...revealing position. Luckily, he was just laying on the trailer couch, a sleep mask over his eyes and AirPods in his ears. He didn't notice you walked into his trailer, so you did something else you'd probably regret: you flicked Tom's forehead to get his attention.
He jumped and ripped off his sleep mask, snapping, "What the fuck?!"
You crossed your arms as his eyes readjusted to the light. He looked up at you and took out a headphone. "What do you want?"
You rolled your eyes. "You, on set, now."
"Gail already came to tell me it was call time. I'll be there in a minute."
"You were meant to be on set an hour ago. There's no more 'minutes', you're coming now."
Tom sat up. "Listen, assistant, I have a very intense process before I start filming that takes time and concentration. Gail already interrupted me, and now that you have as well I'll have to start all over. Tell Jody not to worry a hair on her pretty head, I will be there."
A combination of general frustration with Tom's behavior and the fact that he was dismissing you as just an "assistant" caused you to finally snapped. You grabbed Tom's sleep mask and snatched his headphones from his ears. He protested, but you ignored him as you kicked open his trailer door and chucked the objects as far as you could.
When you turned back to Tom, he was on his feet and he looked furious. But you refused to be intimidated by him.
"You listen to me, Tom Ryder," you said. "I don't give a shit about your stupid fucking pre-filming rituals. What I do give a shit about is this movie, that you're supposed to be the star of. I am sick and tired of chasing you around like a toddle to round you onto set when that is not my job. So, please, get off your ass and do your job."
You turned to leave, but paused to add, "And I'm a PA, not your assistant."
You walked out of his trailer, the frustration slowly starting to evaporate. You didn't think your words were going to have any effect on Tom. If anything, you were sure it would just make him pissed off and he probably wouldn't even come to set at all now. You'd feel worried for your job if you weren't so happy with yourself for finally telling Tom off.
You were planning on how you were going to tell Jody about what happened with Tom when you heard his trailer door open. You turned to see Tom stepping out of the trailer, already dressed in his gold space cowboy outfit which you hadn't noticed before.
He brushed past you, saying, "Let's shoot this fucking thing."
You let out a sigh of relief as you trailed after him.
Tom, luckily, was super professional and fantastic at his job for the remainder of the day. So much so that Jody was literally jumping from her seat to praise the cast, and to show her relief that the day had finally gone well. You were equally thrilled by this because it meant you were finally able to do your actual job.
When Jody finally called it for the day, you were collecting your stuff and noticed someone approaching you. You looked up to see it was Tom. You braced yourself for the verbal berating you were likely about to get.
"Hey," he said. "PA. What's your name?"
You'd be offended if it were anyone else asking. You had been working with Tom for months, so most people would expect that he'd know your name, but considering that he viewed you as just another assistant until hours ago, you weren't shocked that he hadn't deemed you important enough to remember your name.
"(Y/N)," you told him. "And, listen, I'm sorry about what I said earlier - "
"No you're not," Tom cut you off. "That level of verbal smackdown only happens when you've been holding something in for a long time and you've finally had enough. And you're right, I haven't been making things easy for anyone on set this whole filming process."
Was this some sort of joke? Were the cameras still rolling trying to film your reaction? Had you passed out suddenly while filming and now you were dreaming? There was no way that Tom Ryder of all people was admitting to his faults, especially to someone he couldn't even be bothered to learn the name or occupation of until seconds ago.
When you didn't respond, Tom continued on, "What are you doing tonight?"
"Uh...just going back to my hotel room, I guess. Maybe grab a drink with Jody at the hotel bar."
"Change your plans. You're gonna come have a drink with me instead."
It wasn't a question because Tom Ryder didn't have to ask questions. Tom Ryder was used to just smiling at a woman - or at a man honestly - and having them fall to his feet immediately.
So imagine his surprise when you said, "No."
You started to walk away from him, but he quickly moved to follow you. "Uh...maybe you didn't hear me correctly."
"No, I heard you just fine," you said. "The answer is no."
"But...why?"
You stopped walking to turn and face him. "Tom, you are the star of this movie, and I am a production assistant. There are so many levels of not right about me getting drinks with you."
"It's just drinks," he said with a shrug.
"It's a date, and I can't go on a date with you while we're working together."
You turned to walk away from him again. This time, he didn't follow. He watched you go for a while before calling out, "What about when we're not working together?"
You looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. "We'll see."
~~~~~~
Weeks later, the filming of Metalstorm came to a close. It have become much less painful on set as Tom was always in costume and on set at the time he was supposed to be, sometimes even earlier. Everyone was so shocked by his sudden change, but no one was going to question it. There was too much left of the movie to be filmed to start bringing attention to the fact that Tom was actually being a professional.
During the last few weeks, Tom did not give up on his pursuit of you. He didn't ask you out again, but he was constantly sending you gifts to remind you that he still wanted to go out with you: flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals. The one that really made you laugh was when you found a magazine with him on the cover, shirtless, in front of your hotel room door.
The last day on set, as everyone was celebrating the end of the shoot and saying their emotional goodbyes, you walked up to Tom and slipped a piece of paper into his hand. When he opened it, he saw your number written on it.
You got a text almost immediately after: "drinks, my place. i'll send a car for you"
You got ready at the hotel, putting on the nicest thing you had packed. You hadn't really packed any dresses or outfits that would be date worthy because you weren't expecting to go on any dates. The closest thing you had was a nice pair of jeans and a short sleeved button up blouse that was white with red and pink flowers on it. It seemed more professional work vibes than date vibes, but that's all you had really prepared for.
You also hadn't packed makeup, not expecting to need any when you were just here for work, so you had to hope Tom wasn't expecting you to show up completely dolled up.
The car he had sent for you showed up around 8pm and took you directly to his apartment. He was waiting for you by the door, also dressed more casually than fancy for a date, so you felt a little relieved.
"Hey," he said when you got out of the car. "You look great."
"Thanks," you said. "Are we, um, staying in for drinks?"
"Yeah, I figure that's probably the better option. Less likely to be surrounded by paparazzi or crazy fans if we just hang out in my place."
Right, that would make sense.
You hadn't really thought about the fact that someone like Tom probably didn't get to go out as much as a normal person would. He hadn't been to any of the Metalstorm cast and crew nights out, but you had chalked that up to him thinking he was too good to go out with everyone else. Maybe it was actually because he felt like he couldn't.
You followed Tom into his apartment. Although, "apartment" was definitely an understatement. The place was bigger than the house you had grown up in, and even had two floors and a rooftop pool. You couldn't help but marvel at everything - the largeness of it, as well as all the film memorabilia Tom had placed on the walls and the shelves. And then you came across the walls covered in sticky notes and found yourself confused.
Tom noticed the look on your face as you stopped to read a few of the notes and laughed. "I like to remember things."
"'Next role: paramedic vampire'?" you read, giving Tom a playful look.
"I think that could be a good role. Imagine a paramedic who is also a vampire, and sometimes they have to struggle with all the blood they're exposed to every day."
"So basically Carlisle Cullen from Twilight?"
"I've never seen those movies so I don't know."
You chuckled as you followed him to the mini bar.
"What do you drink?" he asked. "I have...basically everything."
"Give me a whiskey neat." He raised an eyebrow at you. "I had a lot of hard nights during film school. You learn to enjoy the hard stuff."
He smiled and grabbed you a glass. He filled it halfway with a whiskey that definitely looked very expensive, and then got himself a glass as well. He held his glass up to you, and you tapped yours against his.
"What are we toasting to?" you asked him.
"To the movie finally wrapping so I could take you on a date."
You couldn't help but smile as you took a sip of your whiskey.
"There's something I have to ask you before we move forward, though," you said. Tom leaned against the island between you two and motioned for you to continue. "When did you and Iggy stop dating? I mean...obviously you've stopped dating...right?"
Tom chuckled. "Would I have asked you on a date if we hadn't?"
"I don't know how you big hot shot celebrity couples do relationships. Maybe you guys are like...open? I don't know."
"We're not, and we're not together. We broke up just before Metalstorm started filming."
You winced. "That's rough."
"That's acting. You can't just throw away a whole role because you have to act alongside your ex. Besides, it was mutual, and now she's dating Jason Momoa."
"And you're on a date with the PA from Metalstorm."
Tom gave you a look. "Don't say that as if it's a downgrade or something. I like you, that's all that matters."
You were speechless. This was the most sincere you had ever heard Tom be. Usually he was yelling or cursing on set because he felt like the take he did was awful, or he was annoyed by the Australian heat in his shiny gold costume. You had no idea that Tom Ryder had a softer side of him. Actually, you weren't sure anyone knew that.
You and Tom eventually moved from the car to the couch in his lounge. He turned on a movie ("I promise it won't be my own", he had joked) and the two of you sat close but not close enough to be touching. Tom had his arm across the back of the couch behind you, just begging for you to lean into him. You'd keep inching closer every so often until finally your side was pressed against his, and you were able to rest your head on his shoulder.
You couldn't help but think about how surprised you were with how quickly things had changed these last few weeks. For a majority of filming, you had basically hated Tom. You thought he was egotistical and annoying. You never would've thought you'd be on a date with him once filming had wrapped. Sure, you thought he was attractive. Anyone with eyes could see that. But you didn't think he would ever see you as someone to go on a date with, let alone that you would have agreed if he asked.
At some point during the movie, Tom shifted and moved away from you. You looked up at him, confused, to find him already looking down at you.
"I really want to kiss you," he admitted.
"What's stopping you?" you asked.
The answer was nothing, because once the words were out of your mouth Tom was cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. It was one of those magical kisses that people in TV shows and movies always talk about. The ones where they say you feel a spark and you see stars. You didn't want it to end.
But eventually you had to pull away for air. You looked up at Tom, who now had a small grin on his face.
"I suppose there's no chance you'd want to stay over?" he asked.
You really wanted to say yes, but you knew you shouldn't. You weren't the type of person to put out on the first date, and you knew there was a huge risk of that happening if you stayed at Tom's for the night.
So, you sighed and shook your haed.
"Thought so," Tom said. "I'll just have to get enough kissing in before I have to let you go."
You giggled as he leaned in to kiss you again.
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happy74827 ¡ 9 months ago
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I Want To Be Your Lover
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[Colt Seavers x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: You’ve always felt something for Colt, resorting to a friendship as he is completely unaware. But when he comes knocking at your door… it’s hard to not connect reality to fantasy {GIF Creds: @colt-and-jody // Please go and watch the edit they made of Colt + Jody. Literally Amazing 🤩}.
WC: 2199
Category: Slight Fluff + Spice/Lime, First Kiss, {TW: Mentions of Murder}
Obsessed… I’m so obsessed with him…
FALL GUY SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT
『••✎••』
His hands grasped your face as he pulled you close, your heart pounding, breath quickening. The way he could pull you up onto him without warning and how it was so effortless. The way he'd hold your thighs around him as he made out with you, his hands traveling up your thighs, then under your shirt, touching your bare back, your waist, your chest.
Then he'd lean into your ear, those stupid lips kissing the bottom of it, gently, delicately, but firm and knowing. It was the way he'd whisper something so unserious that would almost turn you off him for a minute, but then he was smiling with those stupid dimples, eyes sparkling like the stupid sea, and you couldn't help yourself from melting all over again.
That’s what you believed about Colt Seavers. That was the dream, the fantasy, the perfect little love story between the two of you; that was the life you'd created in your head. He was the love, the life, the future.
But the sad truth was, it was only a dream because the real Colt Seavers was painfully oblivious.
He would laugh, smile, and give you that wink that was meant to be sexy but was actually kind of stupid, and then he'd be gone, and you'd be left with that aching in your heart.
The one that showed the fact that you were a friend, nothing more. A good friend, a best friend, someone to be close to, someone to talk to, but not someone to love. Not the way you loved him.
So you would often find yourself in your head, where it was safe, where there were no consequences. Because in your mind, Colt did notice you, he did care, and he did love you back. In your mind, he'd wrap his strong arms around you and kiss you with all the passion that you'd wanted for so long.
In reality, you'd be walking along beside him, listening to his voice, laughing at his jokes, and wishing that he would see you, the real you, and not just the friend.
And then, one night, it was as though the angels had heard your prayer.
You were sleeping, probably dreaming of Colt if you were honest, when you were awoken by knocks at your door. At first, you thought it was your imagination, or the wind, or whatever, but it happened again, and you groaned, throwing the covers off you and shuffling your way to the front door.
When you opened it, you were surprised to see Colt standing there, looking as if he had gone through hell and back. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had the most pitiful expression on his face.
You stared at him for a moment before speaking.
"Colt…?” You still couldn’t believe it was him. “What’re…what're you doing here?"
Colt shrugged and looked down. "Can I… uh, spend the night? Here?"
Your mind immediately went straight to the gutter. The two of you, alone, in your home, late at night, and no one around.
Yes, yes, yes.
But you weren’t completely lost to him. You were still aware of the situation and the fact that you had no idea what was going on.
You raised an eyebrow at him. "Don’t you still have a hotel room? Since you’re working?"
He started at you, blinking, while you waited for an answer. He seemed almost taken aback by your response, but he didn’t seem surprised.
In fact, his expression turned a bit sheepish. If it weren’t for the fact that it was late and that you were so confused, you would have found it adorable.
"You haven’t watched the news yet, have you?" He asked.
You frowned. "No. Why?"
“Good, that means you’ll let me in."
Before you could reply, he took the opportunity to step inside. You watched him, eyes wide, as he made his way into your kitchen, opening the refrigerator, pulling out a drink, and grabbing a slice of pizza from your leftover box.
It wasn't until you heard him groan that you snapped out of it.
"Colt? What are you doing?"
"Eating,” he said with a mouth full of pizza. He was sitting on your kitchen counter. “God, I miss this, and I don’t know why."
Sometimes, your crush on him was questionable, especially times like this.
"That's great," you rolled your eyes. "But why are you here? And what about the news?
He paused for a second and then looked at you, eyes soft, a small, apologetic smile on his face. It almost melted your heart.
You didn’t even realize the fact that he was soaked until that moment. And was he… was he bleeding?!
"Colt, are you—”
"I’m wanted for murder, which, to set the record straight, I did not do," he answered, taking another bite of pizza.
"Wanted for—what?!" You practically shrieked.
He held his hand up to stop you and finished his bite of pizza before speaking again.
"I know, I know. Crazy, right? This pizza, by the way… amazing. Where did you get it from? Dominos? This… This is what heaven tastes like, I think. It's gotta be.”
You were stunned. Speechless. Absolutely flabbergasted.
He didn’t even seem to notice your distress as he hopped down from the counter and threw the now-empty pizza box into the garbage.
"Long story short, the world thinks I’m dead after Tom — who turns out to be even more of an asshole than I thought — tried to have me killed to be the fall guy of his murder. Didn’t work, obviously, but it's not like he knows that."
He continued talking, but at this point, you had zoned him out. Your head was spinning, and you could barely keep up with him as he paced around your kitchen.
"So, anyway, I got away, and now I have to stay hidden and all that jazz. Hence, why I'm here, I couldn’t go anywhere else. I figured you would let me crash here tonight. I hope that's cool. And hey, if not, then that's fine; I can… find a ditch of something to sleep in, or a hay bail, or a cow shed, or whatever. It's cool."
You still couldn’t process it. None of it made sense. You weren't sure if you were dreaming or not. Maybe it was a nightmare. You had been thinking of Colt all night, and now he was here, and everything was insane.
You weren’t even sure if he had stopped talking or not or if he had noticed the fact that you were practically catatonic.
You needed to lie down. You needed to think. You needed to…
You were pulled out of your thoughts by Colt waving his hand in front of your face. A normal behavior for him, but somehow, right now, it sparked something inside of you.
He dropped his hand when he noticed the stare you were giving him. But it wasn’t just any stare, no. It was one that said a million things at once.
And you were sure he saw it because he, too, had a look. One that was much different than the one he normally gave you. One that was a bit more… serious.
His eyebrows were furrowed together, he had a frown on his lips, and his eyes were softer but also darker and deeper. They were the eyes of someone who had gone through some shit. Real shit.
It was a look you'd never seen on him, and you were sure the look you gave him was a first for him, too.
Different reasons, of course.
And for a moment, you had forgotten that this was the real Colt Seavers. Not the one from your fantasies, not the one from your dreams.
But the real Colt.
Which meant you had to take a moment to collect yourself. Acting out and getting all crazy and lovey-dovey wasn't something he needed right now.
"You… can stay. Of course you can," you sighed. "I'm just a bit overwhelmed, is all."
Colt's serious face didn’t drop, but he did nod, understanding.
"Thanks. I'm sorry for barging in here and acting all crazy. It's just I had nowhere else to go, and I figured… you'd be the one to understand."
You smiled softly. "Don’t worry about it, Colt. Seriously. You can’t even kill a bug. So, a murder charge is the last thing I'm worried about."
The corner of his lip twitched into a slight smile. "Did I ever tell you about the time I caught a rat?"
"No. No, you did not."
"Yeah, it didn’t end well.”
“For the rat or you?" You grew a grin on your face.
“I’ll leave that to your imagination," he teased, glancing up at the ceiling. It gave you a chance to examine his face. Messed up and bruised, but it was still him—still your Colt.
"So… the rat won?"
"He put up a good fight, I'll tell you that."
"Did you cry?"
"Nope, I was a total badass."
"Oh yeah, I'm sure. Taylor Swift would be so proud."
"I know she would."
"She'd probably write a song about it."
"Well, duh. Of course, she would. How else would she immortalize our love story?"
It was at this moment that your brain and your heart finally got in sync, and you realized exactly what was happening.
By the time you looked at him, just to see if his tone matched his expression, Colt was already staring at you. And even though he was smiling as he normally would, his eyes were different.
You couldn’t make it out, but something was there. Something that wasn’t usually there but was now, and it wasn’t a nice feeling. It made you feel uncomfortable.
It was the same feeling you had when you caught him talking to girls but then flashed his smile at you. When he'd call you his 'best bud' and then hug you for a little too long.
This was that feeling, but worse. So much worse.
You’d see this part in your dreams, but they usually had a happy ending, one that included a kiss. Well, more than a kiss.
You’d take the initiative, and he’d go along with it, slowly becoming more and more in control until it was him, him, him.
And in the dream, you'd kiss him and feel him on you, his hands traveling up and down your body, his breath hot against your neck, his lips leaving marks all over your skin.
But when you opened your eyes, usually you were back in bed, the fantasy ending. And it was hard not to feel sad.
But, for some reason, when you opened your eyes this time, Colt was still there. And his hands were still touching you, and his breath was still hot, and his lips were still kissing you.
You weren’t sure if this was reality or not. You had dreamed about him so many times it was hard to tell the difference.
But the longer you kissed, the more it felt real.
You had no idea how you got there, how it had happened. All you knew was that Colt's hands were grasping your face, your hands were in his damp hair, his mouth was against yours, and the whole murder thing was forgotten.
And it was a good kiss, too. The kind of kiss that made your toes curl, your body tremble, your mind go blank, and the only thing you could focus on was the craving for more.
It was a desperate, needy, passionate, hungry, messy kiss.
When Colt pulled away, you were breathless, and your head was spinning. Your lips were numb, and you could barely stand, but Colt had an arm around your waist, holding you up, his other hand still touching your face delicately, tenderly.
"That was the best pizza I've ever had," he breathed out. "Ever. In my entire life."
It was at this moment you knew for a fact that this was the real Colt and the real you. And you were both awake, and it was happening.
Colt Seavers, the boy or man you'd loved forever, had finally opened his eyes.
And you were going to kill him.
You were going to actually, truly murder him.
He couldn't kiss you like that and say something stupid like that?
But before you could get a word in, he was kissing you again, and you were melting, and all anger had vanished. A lot of power this boy had over you.
This time, the kiss was different. More controlled, calmer, sweeter.
He took his time and savored every second. It was a lot more intimate, and the hand on your face was gone. Instead, it was on your neck, tilting your head upwards, and his other arm was around your waist, keeping you close.
When you were left breathless, he didn't pull away. Instead, he continued kissing you, his lips traveling down your jaw to your neck.
You gasped, feeling his tongue on your neck and his hands roaming your back. It was the exact fantasy you'd imagined for so long. Except this was so much better.
Because it was real.
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It usually takes me about two to three fics before I fully “understand” the character’s personality… and Colt turned out to be MUCH HARDER to write about (I kept rewriting this from the beginning at least 10 times). So, apologizes if you this sucks and is totally ooc 😬😬
I half-heartedly blame it on the fact that my memory is garbage and I’m too broke to rewatch it in theaters.
But, nonetheless, I’m happy to add and help populate the growing fandom — even if this isn’t up to par.
And to everyone who is still reading this, thank you for making me not feel alone with my Fall Guy obsession 🥹🫶
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fics-and-quotes-andthelike ¡ 1 year ago
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Better Late Than Never
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Title: Better Late Than Never
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader
Word Count: ~2,143
In which the reader’s love language is physical touch, but has never touched Dean…in public.
A/N: I really hope you guys like this one! Thanks so much for reading and for your support. If you have any requests for a fic, feel free to give me a character and a prompt/explanation for what you’d like!
Your love language has always been physical touch. A quick brush of hands here, an innocent kiss to the cheek there. Whether it was your friend or your significant other, touch was just something you used to show that you cared.
So it meant a lot to you when, after you moved in with the Winchesters, Sam had quickly picked up on your love language and allowed you to give him occasional hugs. He’d also gone out of his way to hug you, or even just put a reassuring hand on your shoulder once in a while.
But even though you felt more than comfortable with Sam, you were the first to admit that you’d never so much as given Dean a high five.
In front of others.
In the privacy of an empty bunker or motel room, you and Dean had no problem brushing against each other and exchanging brief touches. Eventually, the brief touches had turned into longer ones, and hands drifted from your shoulder to the small of your back. Then those touches turned into sitting right beside each other, your head resting on his shoulder as he peppered kisses on the top of your head. And after that, kisses on your head turned to kisses on your lips, while hands on your back turned into hands grasping your hips.
But as soon as Sam, Cas, Charlie, or anyone else walked through the door, you would revert back to no touches at all.
It’s not that you didn’t want to. He truly meant the world to you. But every time someone would walk into the room, he would pull away. And you never wanted to make Dean feel uncomfortable, even if it was killing you inside. So, to respect his space, you’d never so much as given Dean a high five in front of other people.
Until today.
A hunt had gone sideways when a djinn had outsmarted the three of you and gotten its hands on Dean while you and Sam had been out getting dinner.
When you got back to the motel room to see that Dean was gone and not answering his phone, you and Sam had come up with a plan. A questionable plan, for sure, but it was all that you could come up with in the limited time that you were allowed.
Now, the two of you sat in Baby, reviewing the plan before you burst into the abandoned warehouse where Dean was being kept.
“Whatever you do, don’t engage with the djinn, got it? I’ll take care of him, you take care of Dean.”
You nodded stiffly, your eyes on the building ahead. “I hear you, I got it. But if you’re in any trouble-”
Sam sighed in exasperation. “Would you just listen to me for a second-”
You looked up at him, fury in your gaze. “I will not let that djinn take you, too.”
Sam’s gaze softened. For all of the sweet touches that you passed around, you were still a hunter, willing to hurt anything that came between you and your family.
He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and leaned towards you. “Hey. We’re going to be okay, alright? Us and Dean, we’re getting out of here. And that djinn isn’t gonna know what hit him.”
He kept his hand on your shoulder until you finally nodded in agreement, a half smile taking shape on your lips. You took a deep breath and checked the bullets in your gun and the knife hidden in your jacket as Sam checked the knife dipped in lamb’s blood and the colt in his holster one last time.
As you went through your mental checklist, you couldn’t help the bolt of fear that shot through you when you realized that the djinn could have easily killed Dean hours ago.
You shook your head at the thought. Dean was tough, and if the djinn was probably desperate to make his life force last as long as possible.
You shook out your nerves one last time before you straightened up and looked towards Sam. “Alright,” you muttered. “Let’s get this thing.”
The two of you got out of the car quietly before making your way to the door of the warehouse. Sam put a finger to his lips as he tried the door. You both made a face of surprise when the door gave way easily. Sam led the way as you crept inside, hoping against all odds that the rest of the revue would go this smoothly.
But of course, it wouldn’t really be a Winchester hunt if nothing went wrong.
As soon as you and Sam entered the building, you were ambushed by the waiting djinn. With the advantage of surprise on its side, it quickly overpowered Sam and tossed him to the side before it turned its attention toward you.
You cursed under your breath and raised your gun, knowing full well that it and your knife would do nothing to save you, since the plan had been that you would never have to face the djinn. The djinn smiled at your panic, pacing towards you swiftly.
Suddenly, Sam appeared once again behind the djinn. The djinn whirled around and just barely managed to dodge the knife that Sam swung its way.
Sam risked a glance over to you. “Go! Get Dean!”
You nodded, though he had already turned back to face the djinn.
You looked around wildly, hoping for some kind of sign as to where Dean could be. You startled when you heard faint gasping coming from one of the rooms to your right.
Dean. You sighed in relief as you followed the sound. He had probably saved himself from his fantasy world. You shuddered as you remembered what he’d had to do to escape his dream, and started moving faster.
You entered the room cautiously, gun in hand. From your left, a weak voice croaked out your name.
You whirled around to find Dean weak and bound, but utterly alive. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you ran over to him, shoving your gun back in its holster so that you could grab your knife and cut through his bindings.
Dean looked up at you and smiled weakly. “Hey, sweetheart.”
You ignored him, focused solely on setting him free. Your hands were shaking, making it harder to cut through the ropes. Finally, with an extra push, your knife cut through. You dropped it so that you could catch Dean, who slumped forward as soon as he was able to move again.
You slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, allowing him to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” you asked, a slight tremor in your voice.
Dean looked up at you, his eyes soft as he searched your face. “I’m alright.”
His gaze sharpened suddenly, and he looked around the room. “Where’s Sammy?”
Your head snapped over to the door, through which you could hear sounds of a fight. You cursed lightly under your breath as you stood.
Dean moved to stand as well, but you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back lightly. “Stay here,” you ordered. “I’ll help Sam.”
“I’m not gonna-”
“Stay. Here.”
Dean eyed you stubbornly, but seemed to think better of himself, and nodded once for you to go on. He watched as you picked up your knife and handed it to him before you exited the room, jumping straight into the fight.
He sighed and leaned back against the wall behind him. Normally, he wouldn’t have stayed behind, regardless of what you or Sam said. But as he lay still against the wall, he couldn’t help but remember the dream that he’d been forced into.
You, him, and Sam. There’d been no more monsters. No fighting, no war. Just the three of you, living peacefully.
Jess had been there. She and Sam had gotten married, and Sam was the happiest man around. Or maybe not the happiest. Dean himself had been pretty happy too, with you by his side, through sickness and health. Finally free to hug and love each other freely, regardless of who was around.
He smiled as he looked back on it, but immediately broke out of his memory and jerked to attention as he heard footsteps enter the room.
Panic filled his body. Was it the djinn? Had he gotten to you and Sam? He clutched the knife you had given him in his hand, ready to make good use of it.
He heard Sam call out his name, relief filling his body. Dean opened his eyes and stood slowly, smiling at the two hunters watching him with concerned eyes. “Hey, Sammy.”
You heard Sam laugh breathlessly in relief while your eyes raked over Dean’s body, making sure that he wasn’t hiding an injury.
Dean tilted his head slightly, meeting your eyes. “I’m fine. Honest.”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You were aware of Sam saying something next to you, but you couldn’t focus on his words, your attention solely on Dean.
When Dean looked over at you again, a small smile on his lips and concern in his eyes, you couldn’t help yourself. You threw down your weapon and ran over, throwing yourself into his arms.
You’d never been hugged like that before.
His arms wound themselves around your body and tightened, pressing you against him. His hands were open, one resting on your shoulder and one on your side, both tugging you closer than you thought possible. His head rested on top of yours, and he murmured reassurances into your ear as he slowly rocked you side to side.
Through it all, you could faintly hear the sound of Sam leaving the room, giving the two of you some space.
When you finally pulled back, Dean’s hands didn’t leave you, instead resting on your hips as he pressed his forehead to yours.
Your hands fluttered between his shoulders, his neck, and his face as you closed your eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. “I thought you were dead.”
Dean chuckled and gave the barest shake of his head, bringing his hands up to rest them on yours where they sat cradling his face. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
You laughed. “Because my life revolves around you?”
“Because then we’d never be able to tell Sam about us.”
You felt your face change, your smile dropping as you stepped away from Dean.
He looked back at you as his arms dropped down to his sides, hurt evident on his face. “What did I do? Are we not…?”
“No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head quickly.
You saw disappointment and shame flit across his features. You shook your head again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…I just…I wasn’t sure.”
“Sure about what?”
“It’s just…” You steeled yourself. “You always pull away from me. I thought maybe you were embarrassed or something. Or maybe you just wanted me to help you feel better-”
Dean’s whole body jerked with surprise and he stepped towards you, arms outstretched. “No, sweetheart, that’s not it at all. I’m just…” He hesitated, only a step away from you as his arms dropped. “I’m not good with mushy gushy crap. You know that.”
You smiled cautiously. “I know. Nothing wrong with that.”
He nodded, unmoving.
You took a step towards him. “Maybe we could…work on it together?”
A smirk crossed his face as he reached an arm around your back and pulled you closer. “Oh, yeah?”
A laugh crossed your lips. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Dean leaned his head down to softly brush his lips against yours. “I know.”
You felt him stiffen as you both heard footsteps re-enter the room, with Sam loudly complaining, “You guys good to go?”
You moved to pull away, muscle memory taking over, when Dean suddenly cupped your face with one hand and pressed his other hand against your back. His eyes searched yours. “Is this okay?”
Your heart was hammering against your chest, the knowledge that what you said could determine your whole relationship with both Winchesters weighing on your brain.
You heard Sam’s footsteps moving closer and smiled breathlessly. “Yeah,” you managed to say before he connected his lips to yours.
“Guys,” Sam repeated as he stepped into the room. His eyes landed on the two of you, your hands cupping Dean’s face as he pulled you closer still. He chuckled and turned away, but not before shouting, “It’s about time!”
He could hear Dean telling him where to shove it as he walked away, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that the two of you genuinely believed that nobody had noticed your secret relationship these past two years.
Oh well, he thought to himself. Better late than never.
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daryl-dixon-daydreams ¡ 1 year ago
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Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick's sister yaaaasss)
"Rick, I need to talk to ya," Daryl said.
Rick was bent over a pile of parts on the ground, trying to put together Judith's new crib. "Uh huh," he responded absently.
"Nah, I mean—I really need to talk to ya. Uhh—I mighta made a mistake... err—well, not a mistake... but—"
Rick straightened up and wiped the sweat from his brow, giving Daryl an amused look. "A mistake? Wouldn't be the first time," he teased him, smiling.
Daryl gulped. "Yeah... heh..." He cleared his throat nervously. "Uhh—so listen—"
"Uh huh," Rick murmured again, reaching down and grabbing a strange looking metal piece off the grass. "What the hell is this?" he murmured to himself before letting out a big sigh.
Daryl wrung his hands. "Rick—'m tryin' to talk to ya," he said, frustrated. Rick continued turning the part over in his hands, only half-listening. "Goddammit, Rick! I'm tryin' to tell ya I kissed yer sister last night!"
Rick froze and then turned slowly, excruciatingly slowly, to look at Daryl, whose face blanched first and then turned red out to his ears. "You kissed... my little sister," Rick repeated.
Daryl gulped again. "Yeah..." he nodded. "I—I did."
Rick turned fully now, discarding the part of Judith's crib back on the grass and resting one hand on his hip. The other came to rest on his holster and the handle of the shiny Colt Python sitting heavily there. Daryl's eyes drifted down to the action and back up to Rick's face. "...And?" Rick pressed him, his expression unreadable.
"And—and... I—I couldn't help it, man!" Daryl burst out. "The way she was lookin' at me and—and I—" he paced anxiously in front of his friend. "Christ, the way I feel 'bout her—it ain't like I've ever felt 'bout somebody before and—"
Rick's face suddenly broke into a smile and then he was chuckling. Daryl stopped pacing, stopped his anxious rambling.
"...What?"
Rick's chuckle became a full laugh as he stared back at Daryl and he finally shook his head. "You really think I didn't see what was right in front of my face, Daryl?"
Daryl stared at him, dumbfounded. "Uhh—"
Rick stepped forward and put a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "It's about time you did somethin' about that." He patted him once and turned back to Judith's crib assembly.
Daryl heaved a huge sigh of relief and muttered "Fuck," under his breath. "Yer an asshole, ya know that?" he said to Rick.
Rick only gave him another amused smile.
Prompt: "I might have made a mistake." / "A mistake? Wouldn't be the first time." A/N: *teary smile* I miss them.
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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms ¡ 1 month ago
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Hii! I was wondering if you could do some headcanons on being in a relationship with some Tokyo Debunker boys.. Specifically Ritsu, Ren, Yuri, Lyca, Haru, and Towa, Ive been in love with these guys lately so I would appreciate it. Please and thank you 🫶
Hi! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like the headcanons!
Fandom: Tokyo Debunker
Characters: Ritsu Shinjo, Ren Shiranami, Yuri Isami, Lyca Colt, Haru Sagara, Towa Otonashi x gn! Reader (separate)
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What's it like being a relationship with them?
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Being in a relationship with Ritsu means looking the other way when he’s doing something potentially morally questionable. He means well but doesn’t always consider the social implications of his actions.
Dating him also means being reasonably good with words so you can smooth over any arguments that may arise. If you’re not the best at that sort of thing, don’t worry. You will be soon.
At the same time, Ritsu is one of the most attentive people you’ve ever come across. And if you’re in a relationship with him, that will only increase.
He’d do anything to make sure you’re happy and comfortable with him. And he’ll jump at the opportunity to defend you if anyone dares say anything mean about you. In his mind, they’re objectively wrong anyway so it’s his job to correct them.
Having Ritsu as your boyfriend is a wild ride but you’ll never doubt the care he puts into making sure you know just how much he loves you.
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Being in a relationship with Ren is a struggle sometimes. He’s not exactly the most socially adept, especially when it comes to keeping relationships so you’ll have to be patient with him.
You’ll spend a lot of time playing video games and watching movies with him so hopefully you like that sort of thing. He likes having your company, even if he’ll never say it.
You’ll also be the only person he actually wants to visit him while he’s at work in the diner. He likes being able to look up from his phone every once in a while and see you sitting at the corner booth waving at him.
Slowly breaking down his walls is going to be a challenge but if there’s anyone Ren trusts to do it, it’s you. He’ll slowly learn to let you in and see the version of himself he tries to hide from others.
Having Ren as your boyfriend is freeing. You can both be yourselves around each other without needing to worry about strange interests or mean comments.
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Being in a relationship with Yuri means being able to look past his bluster to see the person he really is. It also means getting to see the real Yuri and loving him regardless.
You’re going to learn about his insecurities if you’re dating him which might be a shock at first. He doesn’t let his walls down for just anyone so if he starts showing you his true self, it’s a sure sign that he trusts you deeply.
He is going to request your help with his experiments a lot, so be prepared for that. You don’t have to be smart but he is going to talk to you as if you are. Just nod along and hand him tools when he asks for them.
Yuri often needs someone to talk to about his ideas and you’re that person for him. He’s surprisingly good at listening to your problems and ideas as well. You’re each other’s sounding board.
Having Yuri as your boyfriend is a more caring environment than you might think. He really does love you and even though he knows he can be abrasive sometimes, he’ll do what he can to make sure you know how he feels.
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Being in a relationship with Lyca means always learning and evolving, both as an individual and as part of a couple. He’s still learning the ropes and it would mean a lot to him if you did the same.
You’re going to have some strange courting rituals, that’s for sure. Lyca thinks he knows how to date someone but that might be very different to how you would imagine it. The best thing is to just go with the flow.
There will be a really strong sense of mutual protection in your relationship. If anyone speaks badly of you, Lyca’s stepping up to defend you. And he would be honoured if you do the same for him.
Since he’s still learning about life, he would love it if you share your favourite things with him. Whether it’s food, tv shows, or hobbies, he enjoys learning about the things you like.
Having Lyca as your boyfriend is a nurturing environment where you’re always learning from each other.
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Being in a relationship with Haru means there’s never going to be a dull moment. He’s always busy and would be delighted if you joined him on his odd jobs.
You’re going to be unofficially married as soon as you start dating. He takes relationships very seriously and has to hold himself back from telling people you’re soulmates.
In the same manner, you’ll also be a parent to the anomalies of Jabberwock. He’s already their dad so they see you as their other parent. And Haru feels the same way.
You can’t be in a relationship with Haru and not develop a good eye for discounts and bargains. It’s second nature to him and it’s going to rub off on you as well.
Having Haru as your boyfriend is fun but it’s also more loving than you could imagine. It’s like being part of a caring family.
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Being in a relationship with Towa is fun. There’s no other way of describing it. You never really know what’s going to happen next but you know it will be exciting.
You’re going to be gifted flowers a lot more than you would expect. Everytime you see him it’s a new bunch. And if you’re allergic, they’re going to be fake flowers. He doesn’t want to make your allergies act up.
Stargazing dates are a must. Towa already likes looking at the stars but getting to do that knowing you’re beside him is even better.
He’s going to drag you around a lot, taking you to places you never would have found by yourself. He loves exploring with you and finding places known only to you two.
Having Towa as your boyfriend is an adventure. You’re going to experience a lot of things but you’ll experience them together.
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Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.
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zepskies ¡ 8 months ago
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Every Second Counts - Part 3
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Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 
AN: *Deep breaths* Are you ready? 😉
Word Count: 4.4K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Russell, perilous situations, violence, character death, and another (literal) cliffhanger…
💜 Series Masterlist
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Part 3: "Timer Starts Now"
As he drove away from the museum, Colter could see it even more clearly. 
“You like her,” he said, giving his older brother a smile. 
Russell glanced at him, then rolled his eyes. 
“Focus on the road,” he said. 
“Just admit it. You like her,” Colter smirked. “And the fact that she called you for help isn’t a coincidence.”
Russell made a sound of annoyance and shook his head. At this point, he knew Colter wasn’t going to drop the subject.
“All right, we went out on one date,” Russell held up a finger. “It was fun, but we agreed that I’m just not relationship material.”
Colter sobered at that, at the wry tone of his voice. It sounded like Russell liked you even more than he was willing to admit.
“Do you have a timeline on that brewery?” Colter asked.
Russell chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m just a few dollars short on that one.”
He stared out the window for a while, but he eventually turned back to his brother.
“She called me because her brother’s a vet. Because I know what it’s like to deal with the assimilation process, coming back to civilian life. Trying to figure out where you belong, you know?” he said.
“You think you’ve assimilated?” Colter asked.
Russell shrugged. “Best I know how, anyway.”
“You can’t really call yourself a civilian though, can you?” Colter pointed out. 
Russell shot him a look. “Yeah well, neither can you, Colt.”
That created a kind of tension in the car. A call from Bobby, Colter’s analyst, mercifully broke the silence. He’d gotten some useful information on Eddie Mendez, the man Charlie was supposedly working with, or for.
“Well, he’s not the most upstanding citizen,” Bobby said. “He’s a cocaine dealer by trade. Other fun items on his rap sheet include illegal gun possession, theft, and domestic violence.”
“All right, thanks, Bobby,” Colter said.
Great, Russell shook his head. Just what had your brother gotten himself into?
They were getting closer to the bar, and it mentally brought him back to his date with you.
Okay, maybe he did like you. But he also respected and understood your reasons for cutting things short that night. Usually, he was okay with being in a new town every other week, the occasional one-night stands, the skeevy motel rooms and the fast food. It was all with a goal in mind, and that made the hustle easier.
He’d started to wonder though, what it would be like to set down roots somewhere. Doug made it work with his wife and still did his contract work, even if there were some major pros and cons to that too…
Russell was only broken out of his thoughts when he got a call himself, from Dory. He answered it and held the phone to his ear.
“Hey, D. What’s up?” he asked.
“Russell, something’s wrong,” she said. Her voice was panicked.
He frowned, his brows furrowing. “What? What happened?”
The more he listened, the more his eyes widened in shock. He looked to his brother.
“Colter, turn around. Now.”
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Russell and Colter arrived back at your house, where Dory was parked out front. She came out of the safety of her car when she saw them. Russell got to her first. He laid a hand on her shoulder in the driveway.
“What happened?” he asked. 
She tearfully explained that she found your purse in the bushes, but your phone was missing. She had just picked up your call when it suddenly cut off. 
“But I heard her scream,” Dory said, with a stifled breath.
Russell’s mood darkened in response, and the longer he took in the scene. He looked over at Colter, who also wore a frown. 
The tracker examined your car and driveway first. Already he found signs of struggle. He noticed a couple pieces of dark glass on the pavement, and when he scrutinized his surroundings further, he picked your broken phone out of the grass. The screen was cracked beyond repair.
Next, he climbed the three short steps of the porch, up to the front door of the house. There were marks on the doorknob, likely scratched by a key. He spotted the Ring Camera next.
Good. He took it right off the wall.  
“Do you have her keys there?” he asked his sister. Dory handed them to him and he let himself in. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
The three of them entered your house and found it dark and empty. Colter switched the lights on and got to work, after going back to grab his laptop from the car.
Russell stayed with his sister on the couch, a supportive hand on her back. He tried to shove his anger and upset deeper below the surface.
Meanwhile, Colter had Bobby retrieve the data from the camera. Within a few minutes, he sent Colter a video file, which Colter then played on his laptop. The three of them watched you approach the door.
Someone with a man’s build grabbed you from behind, wearing dark clothes and a mask that obscured his face. You screamed and tried to fight, but the man dragged you away as you struggled.
Russell’s frown deepened as his body tensed with anger again, his jaw ticking as it clenched. And then came the self-loathing.
Rookie fucking move. Should’ve made sure she got home safe, he thought. Better yet, should’ve kept her with me.
Dory covered her trembling mouth and dissolved into tears. Russell tucked her against his side, rubbing her arm. Colter laid a hand on her shoulder as well, but he continued to analyze the footage. He couldn’t make out the attacker’s face with the mask he was wearing, but Colter saw a blue sedan in the background. It peeled off after you were hauled off-screen.  
“Why would they take her? What the hell is Charlie into?” Dory said. She sniffled and wiped at her face.
“To keep her quiet after she started digging into his disappearance, possibly. Or for leverage against him,” Colter said, leveling her with honesty. “Someone doesn’t want us to find Charlie. I’m betting it’s whoever he’s working for.”
He thought it was safer if he didn’t tell his sister exactly who Charlie’s employer was.  
Dory shook her head in worry. “We need to call the police.”
Colter shared a grim look with his brother. He knew Russell understood the score here. 
“If we get the police involved, it’s at least a 50% chance that whoever has her and Charlie…will kill both of them,” Colter said. Dory sucked in a trembling breath. 
“Our best bet is to keep digging,” Colter said.
“Let’s go,” Russell said, nodding at him. He stood, parting from his sister with a hand squeezing her shoulder.
“Where are you going?” Dory asked. She got up to her feet along with her brothers.
“Howley’s. It’s our only lead on Charlie’s employer,” Colter replied. 
“Okay, but wait—” Dory reached out for Russell’s arm. It was a reflex as she tried to wrap her mind around all of this. 
Russell grasped her shoulders gently enough, but he made sure she saw the sense of urgency in his eyes.
“We don’t have time,” he said. “From here on out, every second counts.” 
After a beat, Dory nodded in acceptance. She let go of his jacket. 
“Okay, keep me updated.”
“Will do,” he said, and he swiftly followed Colter out the door.
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The brothers drove in silence to the bar. Colter noted his brother’s tension, and the grim set to his jaw. 
“Hey,” Colter said, earning Russell’s attention. Colter gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her. We’ll find both of them.”
Russell exhaled. “Yeah.”  
Oh, he knew he’d find you eventually, and your brother. He just didn’t want to think about how he might find you.
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Once they got back to Howley’s, they started by questioning the bartender about Eddie Mendez. 
“He’s not here. But that’s a couple of his friends over there,” the bartender said. He pointed them in the direction of a couple of guys drinking near the back. Three of them were sitting at a table playing cards. 
Russell recognized two of them. One was the same guy who made the mistake of hassling you by the pool table. He’d gotten a bloody nose for his trouble. Russell smirked at the memory. 
“Pete, make a fucking move already,” said one of the guy’s buddies.
Russell caught it as he and Colter approached them. This time, Pete seemed at least somewhat sober, even with his second beer in hand. Another bottle sat empty beside his arm.
“Hey, fellas,” Russell greeted the table. “Little Blackjack, little booze. Looks like a good night you’re having.”
“Do I know you?” Pete asked. His face showed a spark of recognition when he took in Russell. 
“Well, you’re about to. We’re looking for one of your friends, Eddie,” he replied. 
Pete set his beer down on the table. Predictably, he crossed his arms and closed up.
“I don’t know no Eddie.”
Russell resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“I realize it’s hard for you, but don’t be dumb. Eddie Mendez,” he pressed. 
Pete glanced at his friends, then he stood from the table, drawing himself to his full height. He was a bit bigger than Russell, but a beer gut wasn’t everything.  
Russell seized up the man in front of him with an almost lazy grin. By contrast, his eyes were sharp, betraying his true thoughts. 
“Now remember. Whatever you start, I’m gonna damn well finish,” he said. 
That sure ignited Pete’s memory. He seemed to be remembering your smaller fist nearly breaking his nose. His face fell with an angry frown. Russell smirked.
Colter laid a warning hand on his brother’s arm.
“We’re not looking for trouble. We’re just trying to find someone Eddie might know. Charlie,” Colter said. “Do you know him?”
“No, I don’t,” Pete claimed.  
“Like you didn’t know Eddie?” Colter replied, raising a brow. “Where can we find him?”
“Now you are looking for trouble,” Pete spat. “Fuck off, Timberlake.”
Just then, Colter’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a text from Dory, asking for an update. He ignored the message for now and put his phone away.
Hearing a commotion, he quickly looked up in time to realize that Russell had wrangled Pete into a stronghold with his arm behind his back and had slammed him onto the table. Drinks and bottles rattled and spilled; playing cards fell to the floor. Pete’s friends got up with angry, threatening gaits.
“I think you can point us in the right direction before I break this meaty arm of yours. How about that?” Russell said. 
“Hey! No fighting!” the bartender called from the front. “Take that shit outside.”
Colter internally sighed, but he’d have to roll with this, even though this wasn’t how he’d wanted to play it. 
“I wouldn’t test him,” Colter advised. “That’s gonna be a bad break. You got good health insurance, Pete? You’ll probably need surgery, expensive bills, a little physical therapy, a few months of recovery time.”
Pete seemed to weigh Colter’s logic, albeit with an angry huff. He waved off his friends and caught his breath while pinned against the table. 
“I can’t talk to you,” he said. “I’ll get myself killed.”
“I’d worry more about your odds right now, Pete,” Russell said. He tightened his twisted hold on the man’s arm, earning a strangled sound of pain. 
Colter weighed the options here in record time, and he came to a decision. He grasped Russell’s arm firmly.
“Let him go,” he said.  
Russell gave him a look of disbelief. “Colt?”
Colter implored him with his eyes. Trust me.
After a few more seconds, Russell’s lips pursed, but he let the guy go. 
“Ah, fuck,” Pete muttered. After he was able to straighten up, he rubbed his aching arm and shot them both a red-faced glare. 
Colter steered his brother out of the bar before a real fight could break out. He knew it’d become a bloody mess, and they didn’t have time for a night stay in a county jail cell this time.  
“You better have a damn plan,” Russell whispered, as they neared the front doors of the bar.
“You know I do,” Colter replied.
They later sat in his truck while it was still turned off. Just waiting in silence.
A few minutes went by before the back doors of the bar opened to Pete and his gaggle of delinquent friends. As Colter suspected, one of them made a call. It lasted no more than a couple of minutes. Then, they piled into Pete’s car and pulled out of the parking lot.
Colter started up his own car, and he followed them.
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You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.
Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement. 
“No…” 
That voice was all too familiar. 
The bag was finally ripped off your head, the edge of it catching in your frizzy hair. You blinked wearily at the florescent lights above, and you wiped at your tears and smudged mascara. Your breath left your lungs when you saw your brother, Charlie. 
He was tied to a chair, shirtless and shoeless, beaten and bloody. Some parts of his skin even looked burned. His jeans remained, at least. But his face was hard to look at. His left eye was swollen, his lip split, his cheek cut and bloody. Both his eyes were red-rimmed, and he was sweaty and dirty, as if they’d been keeping him down here like an animal. He looked thinner too.
He stared back at you in dismay, your name falling from his lips.
You tried to scramble over to him, but someone grabbed you by the hair and yanked you back. You cried out in pain.
“Eddie stop! Don’t hurt her!” he shouted. He drew enough strength to pull at his restraints. Your hands reached back on reflex to grasp at the hand holding your hair. 
“No, you did this,” Eddie said. He clicked the safety off his handgun and pointed the barrel at your head, right between the eyes. You gasped and froze where you sat. 
“You couldn’t make it easy, huh? Well now, I’m making it real simple for you,” he continued. “Even more simple, now that we cut out the middleman.”
Eddie gestured to what looked like a woven potato sack laid behind Charlie’s chair, but really, that was just part of it. As your eyes scanned over, you saw the narrow shoulders of a man with a familiar dark blue blazer. It was stained red with a bloody hole carved through the back. Your breath stilled in your lungs.
Eddie glanced over at you, his lips curving. He walked over to the dead body, turned it over with his boot, and dragged off the potato sack to reveal the lifeless blue eyes of Dr. Feinman.
Your eyes widened.
You let out a blood-curdling scream that startled a pigeon out of the warehouse, from where it had been perching on a high support ledge. You leaned back on your bound hands, but you could go no further as one of Eddie’s men grabbed your shoulder, pinning you on the ground. His annoyed face told you to shut the fuck up.
Charlie grimaced and turned his face from the sight of the body. Both shame and hate filled his eyes when Eddie bent down to face him.
“Tell me where you hid the goddamn weapons,” he demanded.
Your lips trembled as new tears brimmed over and streamed down your cheeks. You’d suspected the truth, but it was different from being faced with the reality. Charlie was the one who stole from the museum. He’d likely been doing a lot worse for the past few months. And somehow, Feinman had gotten in between. He’d also paid the price.
Your brother saw your disappointment, and he accepted it. But lacking an answer, Eddie pistol whipped you in the face, earning a pained cry from you as you fell back onto the ground. You had to blink the stars out of your eyes.
After his shock wore off, Charlie’s face hardened with fury.
“Oh, don’t give me that fucking face,” Eddie said. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, startling another sharp breath from you. “If you don’t tell me what I want to know, what I did to you’ll be child’s play, compared to what I’m gonna do to her. And you’re going to watch.”
Against your will, tears filled your eyes while you stared at your brother. You were terrified, and Charlie knew it. He was scared too, but he also knew then what he had to do.
“I buried them,” he admitted. 
“You buried them?” Eddie repeated. He brushed back his dark hair with the same hand that held his gun. “Ain’t that ironic. All right, where did you bury them?”
“In the national forest, less than an hour out,” Charlie replied. “But you won’t find it without me.” 
Eddie shook his head on a sigh. “Of fucking course.”
He gestured to his men waiting nearby. He wordlessly gave them the order to untie your brother. 
“All right, Charlie. Let’s go for a drive,” he said, and gave you a sleazy smile. “You too, sweetheart.”
He hauled you up onto your feet and kept you close to him, with a hand like a vice around your arm. God, you hated a sweethearting man.
You held your breath. You could only pray that Dory had noticed you were missing…and that Russell and Colter could find you before it was too late.
Please…
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It was still dark out, but the sky was beginning to lighten when Colter pulled to the side of the road. The car they followed had stopped in front of a warehouse near an industrial downtown area. Colter spotted the blue sedan from the Ring Camera footage. It was parked out front. 
With a shared nod of understanding, Colter and Russell climbed out of the truck and took the time to arm themselves properly before scoping out the warehouse.
“What does a drug cartel want with museum artifacts?” Russell remarked as they were gearing up. “That’s still not adding up for me.”
“It is odd, but maybe the idea came from Charlie,” Colter said. “He had access. Maybe he saw it as a way to buy their trust.”
“Okay, then what went wrong? Why’d they take her?” Russell replied. “I don’t know, man. Something feels off here.”
Colter nodded in agreement. “We don’t have all the pieces yet.”
But they were about to get them. They moved closer to the warehouse, with Russell heading towards a side door and Colter going around the back. They saw a few men crowded around a TV in the corner of the warehouse. Behind them were crates upon crates of what surely was product. Probably tens of thousands worth of coke.
Jesus, Russell thought. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but still. This was a serious operation.
Colter caught sight of a lone chair under a bright corner of the room. It was stained with sweat and blood, and some cut ropes hung from the seat. He alerted Russell to the scene with a subtle gesture of his raised gun. Russell’s face turned grim. He nodded minimally, then pointed with his eyes at the group of unsuspecting men. The brothers drew in closer.
Russell fired a shot directly into the TV screen, making it crash onto the ground. The men startled like rats, but they soon faced Russell and Colter’s guns. When one of them reached for the gun tucked in their pants, Colter aimed directly at him.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Colter warned. 
“Where’s Charlie?” Russell demanded. “And his sister.”
He aimed his .45 caliber M1911 at their friend Pete, who had Cheeto stains on his shirt. 
“How about you, Pete. You finally wanna share with the class, before I blow your fucking face off?!” Russell shouted. 
The depths of his voice reverberated widely in the warehouse. It set the tone for things to come, if he didn’t get some cooperation.
Pete shifted on his feet, betraying his nerves. His forehead was starting to sweat too. 
“They’re not here,” he admitted. “They left a while ago.”
Russell flexed his finger over the trigger of his gun. 
“Tell me where,” he said.
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Eddie wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy kind of guy. He kicked his boot against a tree while leaning against it.
“Fucking rock in my shoe,” he muttered angrily.
He was getting more and more frustrated with the uneven terrain (and the mosquitos) the longer the five of you trekked onwards: including you, Charlie, Eddie, and two of his men, Rick and Kevin. Both of them had guns trained on your back and Charlie’s. 
“I’m sorry,” Charlie said quietly to you.
You shook your head. Disappointment didn’t even begin to cover what you were feeling as you looked at him, but at least they’d given him a shirt to cover his beaten torso. His face wasn't so lucky.
He righted you when you struggled on the gravel and loose dirt in your ankle boots. Your hands were still tied together too.
“What the hell happened to you?” you asked, as you caught your breath. 
“I needed the money,” he said, though he knew it wasn’t an excuse. “I was his bodyguard.”
“He’s a drug dealer,” you snapped. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“He was my dealer,” he admitted, though his gaze was heavy. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but…a few weeks after I left rehab, I slipped. I never really did quit. Just got better at hiding it.” 
You let out a sharp breath, and tried to blink past your tears. Another disappointment, another heartbreak for the books.
“But when he offered me a job to pay off what I owed, he wanted insurance that I’d stick around. To prove myself,” Charlie explained. “He came up with the idea to rob the museum.”
“Why was Dr. Feinman involved? Did he find out?” you asked.
Charlie nodded with a sigh. “He caught me the first time I tried to steal the artifacts. I…I lied. Told him we planned to sell them. So instead of turning me in, he wanted to be cut into the deal.”
“What? Why?” you said. Your former boss was many things—a stuffy, self-important man chief among them—but you’d never taken him for a thief.
Charlie gave you a wry look. “Owed his second wife up to his eyeballs. Alimony’s a real bitch.”
You shook your head. That explained why Charlie hadn’t yet been a suspect in the theft. Feinman had probably helped cover Charlie’s tracks. But whatever shortcomings Feinman had, he hadn’t deserved to die like that. A shudder went through your body, remembering his lifeless eyes. You breathed out slowly and tried to rid yourself of the nightmarish image. You managed to push past that to ask your next question.
“And who chose the Native American weapons?”
Charlie’s lips pursed. He glanced over his shoulder. “He did. Thought they looked cool.”
Eddie smirked and waved his gun at him, spurring you both onward. Charlie kept walking and turned his attention back to you. 
“The way I figured it, the museum shouldn’t have them anyway.” 
Your lips pursed at that. You sort of saw his point there, however convoluted his justification, but putting those artifacts in the hands of a drug dealer was even worse.
“And this is so much better for them,” you said pointedly. 
“That’s why I couldn’t go through with it. Tried to get out of the whole damn mess,” he said. “I know what you would’ve said to me. And I knew if I ever saw you again, I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes.”
Your tears welled up again, when you saw the sincerity of his gaze.
“Okay, this touching little scene is making my balls itch,” Eddie said. He grabbed Charlie’s shoulder and turned him around. “Where the fuck are we going? If you’re trying to pull something smartass here, Charlie, I promise you, you’re gonna regret it.”
He cocked the safety back on his gun and pointed it at Charlie’s chest. Charlie raised slow, placating hands.
“It’s just a little further,” he promised. 
“If you’re giving me the runaround—” Eddie started.
“Then what? Without me, you’ll never find it,” Charlie barked back. 
Eddie’s face tightened, and he pointed the gun at you instead. You sucked in a breath.
Charlie quickly held up his bound hands again in surrender. After a beat of tension, he pointed up when he heard rushing water. 
“Hear that?” he said. “I buried it on a cliff near a waterfall. We’re getting close.”
Another stretch of silence filled the clearing. 
Eddie weighed Charlie’s words. When he was mollified enough, he lowered his gun away from you. At his command, Rick and Kevin kept you and your brother moving. 
Charlie glanced to his right side. He realized that you all were walking near the edge of a steep hill that careened downward. Taking in a breath to center himself, he turned to you.
“I love you, you know that?” he whispered.
Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but you found the look in his eyes suspicious. Like he was saying goodbye. 
That was when he swiftly turned. He snapped the heel of his hand into Kevin's throat and grabbed his gun while he was choking. Charlie shot him in the chest, then he clipped Rick in the shoulder. 
Just as Eddie began to raise his own weapon, Charlie met your look of shock with his own determination. 
He pushed you down the hill.
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AN: I know, I know. Two cliffhangers in a row is cruel, but I promise we're getting to even more fun action and cathartic moments in Part 4! 😘
Next Time:
Russell called your name as he searched through the dense trees. Sunlight was beginning to filter through their leaves in dappled color on the trail. It gave him a better view ahead.
He stopped short when he saw a splatter of blood on the ground, painting the dirt and some dead leaves. A well of unease rose in his gut.
He headed toward the sound of running water, and he soon found another cliff. Just beyond it was a waterfall, and river below. Seeing no signs of life, he pulled back and continued to call your name, and all the while, pushing down his worry.
“Russell?!”
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4
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Series Masterlist
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Russell Shaw Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Russell S. Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373
@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum
@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady
@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy
@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad
@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73
@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj
@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways
@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato
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276 notes ¡ View notes
theshippirate22 ¡ 2 years ago
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listen st4 ROBBED us of so so so much, but really I think the the biggest travesty is the fact that we never got platonic Harringham. Like, of course, platonic Stobin is so perfect in every way- i worship it really- and i don’t mean to minimize that AT ALL but like.
Steve and Chrissy absolutely LOSING THEIR SHIT at a football game.
Steve and Chrissy having a crush on the same baseball player and arguing over which pants his ass looks better in.
Steve and Chrissy giving each other the same ??? look when Robin or Eddie say something nerdy.
Steve and Chrissy going to the gym together and losing track of whose basketball shorts are whose.
Steve and Chrissy bonding over the fact that their mothers hate them.
Steve teaching Chrissy to cook and slowly helping her get over her eating disorder.
Steve and Chrissy sharing tips for sore muscles and collapsing on the couch together with bags of frozen peas and corn after going a little too hard.
Steve and Chrissy going for runs at dawn together and getting back long before Robin or Eddie would ever dream of being awake.
Steve and Chrissy throwing the biggest super bowl party ever and screaming and grabbing each other’s arms every time there’s a touchdown.
Steve, who’s been having migraines since his first concussion, helping Chrissy out, who’s started getting headaches since Vecna fucked with her head.
Chrissy offering to drive Lucas to and from basketball because she’s going to the school for cheer anyway, and it’s one less thing he has to worry about.
Steve and Chrissy sitting in on a DnD game, getting bored a few hours in and going out to the driveway to play Horse (Chrissy has never won- she wants the challenge so she never lets Steve go easy on her and he respects her enough not to)
Steve and Chrissy side-eyeing each other when someone has the AUDACITY to say they like the Colts, knowing full well that they’re going to have to dish on the person the second they get in the car (They know the Colts are Indiana’s team. The Steelers are just… better.)
Steve protecting Chrissy from creepy ex-boyfriends who just want to take advantage of her, and Chrissy protecting Steve from creepy ex-girlfriends who just want to take advantage of him.
Chrissy convincing Steve to get back into swim, and him agreeing as long as she gets back into dance.
Chrissy wearing her whole cheer uniform to his meets and sitting on the edge of the bleachers every time he’s in the pool, palms sweating as he flies through the water- Robin and Eddie went to go get McDonald’s an hour ago- eyes darting from his silhouette to the clock and back again, muttering under her breathe, “Come on, Steve, come on!”
Chrissy screaming when he wins, running to the edge of the pool to grab him, even though he’s soaking wet and she spent so long on her hair and “Holy shit, you did amazing!”
Steve making his own sort of cheer uniform to wear to her competitions, always driving her to them so he can hype her up in the car on the way. Calling “You’re a god, you can crush ‘em with your thighs!” as they split up so she can go to the dressing rooms backstage.
Steve leaping to his feet in the audience to clap the second she’s finished, whether it’s a team dance or a solo, or a duo-She’s the only one worth watching- whistling and cheering for her so loud, it would be a phenomenon if she didn’t hear him.
idk
just let Steve have another bisexual jock bestie who won’t make fun of his interests. Who knows how much he wants this, who knows how hard it is.
idk.
2K notes ¡ View notes
mama2bears ¡ 5 months ago
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Guardian In The Night - Part 1
Parings: Tyler/ F. Reader (former rodeo star/ now a veterinarian)
Warnings: Injury, Angst, a few swear words, talk of death, fighting
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Summary: You have known Tyler Owens for 15 years, meeting him while you both were on the rodeo circuit. Five years ago a tragic accident tore you apart. You never expected to see him back in your again, but here he is. Is there still a fire burning between you two? Will Tyler be your guardian when a prowler lurks outside your home?
A/N: I had planned for this to be a short one shot...but here we are already 20 some pages in, so it will be a two part story.
** SIX MONTHS AGO **
You had just returned home from a local farm, where you helped deliver a new baby colt. The miracle of life always amazed you, rather it be animal or human. As the local veterinarian, you most definitely saw more animal births then people ones, and that suited you just fine. You always kinda preferred animals over people.
Pulling into the drive, you saw a red Dodge Ram sitting in the drive and sighed. At first, you thought it was someone bringing their pet to you. Then, you recognized the truck, equipped with drills and rocket launchers. You had seen a few of his YouTube videos...but you never expected to see him again.
“What the hell you doing here?” you asked, jumping from the truck.
You first met Tyler Owens about fifteen years ago. Your father had been a retired bull rider and you had grown up on the rodeo circuit and was a pretty well known barrel racer. Everyone knew and loved your father, so they naturally knew and loved you as well. Tyler's uncle had brought the farm across the street from yours, and Tyler was often over at your house getting bull riding tips from your father.
“Well, hello to you too.” he quipped, “My uncle died, I figured you would know that.” he glared.
“Oh do I ever! I am the one taking care of his animals. I am just surprised that you show up. It's been what, five years now, Tyler?”
You and Tyler became best of friends rather quickly when you first met. Then, that night happened. You didn't leave his side until he pushed you away. Even after that, you called every day...until one day, you realized he was just never going to return your calls. You moved on with your life and out of state to go to collage. Tyler had moved as well and neither of you kept touch. You went five years without seeing or talking to each other. That was until now...
“I am here for the funeral...” he paused, “And I inherited the farm. I guess that makes us neighbors again.”
“You mean you actually are staying this time? Or are you going to run away like last time.”
“You ran away first.” he glared, then sighed, “Listen, I am not here to argue. I plan on staying. I just have to travel for work a lot...”
“Yeah yeah. I know. The YouTube famous tornado wrangler.” you glared, “And for the record, I only left after months of trying to talk to you and being shut out each and every damn time. Why would I stick around? You told me to get the hell out, so I did.” your eyes narrowed in anger, “So what do you want from me now?”
“I know you're the vet, and I know you have been caring for my uncle's animals.” Tyler said, “He told me how big of a help you were to him. I just wanted to know how much I owe you for taking care of the animals...and I want to keep you on as the vet and pay you to look after things when I travel.”
“When did you start talking to your uncle...or anyone else for that matter?” you glared, tears threatening to fall. “It's been FIVE YEARS Tyler! Do you know how many times he tried to call you? How many times I tried to call you?”
He shook his head, looking at the ground as he scuffed his boots across the dirt, “No...no I don't. I was an asshole and I apologize. I've been talking to him for about a month. I was planning on coming back after this season and help him around the farm...the doctors called me the other day and told me about his heart attack. I got back as quickly as I could.”
“He needed you.” you whispered. “He talked about you all the time. He became a father to me after my father died. I was left alone with no one. I tried calling you, but you never called back. Your uncle was the only one there for me.”
Tyler bite his lip, “Y/N...I am sorry.” Tears brimmed around his eyes, “I have no excuse for how I acted. I am trying to make it right. I am trying to get back on track. I am not asking for forgiveness or understanding. I just want to know if you are willing to stay on as vet and care taker for the animals. Just bill me or whatever. You don't even have to see me again if you don't want.”
“Of course I will take care of the animals. I have been taking care of them for the past two years, ever since I graduated from veterinarian school.”
Tyler took out his phone, “Give me your number and I'll tell you the days I'll be out of town. Call if you need anything and I'll pay you each time before I leave.”
“You won't owe me until you return. I normally just send a bill out to my clients once the work is done.”
“In my line of work..I like to pay ahead of time.” he stated.
You two exchanged numbers and he tipped his hat at you, “Good to see you, Y/N.” and with that, he was gone.
* * * Present Day * * *
You were sitting on your porch when you heard the music. You could hear country music blasting from the loud speakers before you even saw the truck. Tyler Owens was back in town, and he was making sure the whole town knew it too. It had been six months since he came back into your life. While at first, your meetings were very short and only about business, gradually, you began have friendly conversations, a few times Tyler called you from the road just to see how you were doing.
“Hey neighbor!” Tyler called, bringing you out of your thoughts. “We're back in town for a few days at least.”
“Really? I would have never known.” you flashed him a grin. “Horses are all good, but I think Tex misses you. He was laying on the porch this morning, staring down the drive way.”
Tyler grinned, “Aw, he's just lazy, that's all. He is always laying on the porch staring down the driveway. Hey, what you got going on tonight?” he asked.
“Nothing that I know of. Same old same old. I got some bills I need to mail out, but other then that, nothing.”
“The team and I are heading down to Big Mo's Bar tonight. Wanna meet us there for some drinks, maybe a game of pool?” he asked.
You thought for a moment before finally saying, “Yeah, sure.”
“Alright, see you then.” he tipped his hat and sped back down the driveway in a cloud of dust.
You finish your coffee and head into the house to do the paperwork you needed to do. If people didn't pay you what was owed, you couldn't keep the place running.
As you got started on your work, you left you mind drift back to about five years ago.
Tyler was the hottest thing on the rodeo circuit. You two had been the best of friends for the past ten years. He was about eight years into his career and on his way to possibly moving up into the PBR. You were on the top of your game in barrel racing.
It was a hot summer night near Little Rock. You on your horse Cisco, waiting to be called out for your barrel run when Tyler walked up to you you. “Hey sweetheart. Wanna go grab a few beers tonight?” he asked, his green eyes staring up at you from under his cowboy hat.
“Is this your way of asking a girl out?” you turned and glared at him.
You have had a crush on Tyler since about the first time you met. He would flirt with you and you'd flirt back, but nothing ever got serious between you.
He shrugged and flashed you that lopsided grin of his, “Yeah. I guess. You wanna go out with me tonight?”
“And next up is Y/N Y/LN...”
“We'll talk later.” You smiled down at him and gave a swift kick to your horse and sped out into the arena.
Your dog, Jack barking out on the front porch brought you out of your thoughts. “Alright boy, what is it?” you mutter, going to the front door.
Tyler was riding up your drive on his horse Thunder, and was leading the other horse, Tequila. 'Now what.” you mutter to yourself.
“What's wrong?” you ask.
“Thunder and Tequila want to go for a ride.” he grinned. “I can only ride one at a time. Want to help a cowboy out?”
You sigh, “Didn't I just tell you that I had paper work to catch up on? If I don't send my clients bills, they don't pay me. They don't pay me, I can't keep this business running.”
“Just a quick ride? For the horses!” he smiled.
“Alright. One quick ride. For the horses.” you agree. It had been just over a year since your horse Cisco died. You couldn't bring yourself to get another horse, not yet. You had missed riding, and quick frankly, it always freed your mind. Maybe, a ride was just what you needed right now.
You take the reins and quickly mount Tequila. Your farm was only about ten acres, but Tyler's was a bit over forty.
“Where to, cowboy?” you asked.
“You remember where that big oak tree is, by the lake on the back side of my property?” he asked.
“Yeah..”
“Race you there!” he yelled, kicking his horse into a gallop.
“Come on Tequila. Let's get 'em.” you kicked the horse up, quickly moving into a full run.
Tyler grinned as you passed him and he kicked up his horse a little faster, coming up along side you.
You held onto the horses mane and eased up on the reins, giving her free rein to run. You leaned forward, letting the wind blow though your hair. You felt wild and free and left out a long howl.
Tyler kept pace next to you, falling back just a few steps as the horses slowed and you reached the tree.
“See, just what you needed, right?” he was laughing. Chasing tornadoes was the thrill of a life time, but second best would be on a horse, riding free though the open fields, not a care in the world.
“That was awesome.” you smiled.
“Think that was great...you should try chasing tornadoes with me!” he smiled.
“Yeah, I don't think so.” you dismounted and left the horse graze freely near the lake and Tyler did the same with his.
“Remember this place?” he asked, biting his lip and glancing over at you.
“I do.” you nodded. “we probably had known each other three years or so at the time. We rode out here and you carved our names in this tree.” you laughed, “I told you that you couldn't carve our names in a tree if we weren't even dating.”
“But I did it anyway.” he grinned looking at the tree, “And they're still there.”
You sighed, “yeah, but you never did ask me out, so it don't count.” you playfully punched his arm.
“Hey, to be fair, I tried.” he pointed out.
“Yeah? When?” you glared. “Because I would have remembered that. I was waiting for you to ask me.”
“I asked you. Remember, I asked if you wanted to grab a few beers that night...the night of the..accident.” he trailed off.
Of course you remembered, you just didn't think he was really asking you on a date. It sounded like a friend asking a friend to grab a beer after the rodeo.
“I remember that night.” you said softly. Silence filled the air between you as you both recalled your last night together.
Right after Tyler had asked you to grab a few beers after the rodeo you had said “We'll talk later,” and took off to do your run. You were halfway though the run when a bull tried to jump a gate. The gate fell over and suddenly, there was a bull charging at your horse. You seen the movement out of the corner of your eye and took off in a full run to get out of the area. Your horse spooked, rearing up and throwing you. Tyler seen you on the ground and that bull charging straight for you. Without second thought he had ran and threw himself between you and bull. You vaguely remember someone grabbing your arms and pulling you out of the area as the bull turned on Tyler, kicking him in the head. You were screaming his name as the bull continued it's attack on Tyler, stomping and headbutting him. The rodeo clowns scurrying to get out there and distract the bull. Cowboys racing out on their horses with ropes. You would never forget the look of Tyler's limp body laying in middle of that area, the ambulance rushing in. Tyler never rode bulls again after that. You never barrel raced again either.
“I went to see you in the hospital, you know.” you told him. “Every single day for the two months you were in a coma, I was there.”
“Yeah, I know. They told me.” Tyler said softly. “Then you left not long after that.”
“Because when you finally woke up, what did you tell me?” You fought to keep the tears from falling.
He sighed, “I told you to get the hell out, that I didn't want to see you anymore.” his lower lip quivered and he turned away, before you could see the tear that fell.
“That's exactly what I did. I couldn't go back out on the circuit again. I was haunted by nightmares of that bull getting lose, attacking you. So I went to Texas to study veterinarian medicine. I tried to call you every day. I left a number of messages for you. One day, my daddy told me that you had moved out to Oklahoma. I didn't see or hear from you again until a few months ago, when you moved back here.”
“They told me I could never ride bulls again.” he said softly. “I needed a thrill, so I went to Oklahoma for a bit to get a degree in meteorology and chase storms. Met my team, became tornado wranglers..moved back home after my uncle passed...and here we are.”
“I missed you.” you whisper. “I really could have used a friend after my dad died.”
“I didn't know about your dad, until last month when I started talking to my uncle again. He told me.” Tyler said slowly. “I would have came back for you, if I had known.”
“Yeah. Your uncle said he tried calling you. I had tried calling you too, for at least the first two years, until you changed your number.”
“I'll always regret that. It was a bad time in my life. My purpose had always been riding bulls and when I couldn't, I was lost. I was trying to make a name for myself. Trying to become somebody...” he trailed off. He wanted to say 'trying to become somebody you could be proud of' but those days were long gone. There was no need to bring up old memories. “I guess we just weren't meant to be.” he sighed.
“Life goes on.” you brush it off, hiding the hurt in your eyes, “at least we are still friends now.”
“Yeah. We've got that.” he gave you a hug.
“We better get back. I got to get this paper work done if you still want me to meet you guys at the bar tonight.”
You both collect the horses and mount up, riding back slowly this time. “Anything I can do to help?”
Laughing you shook your head, “I wouldn't trust you with math problems, Tyler Owens.”
“How about I make us some burgers for lunch. I'll bring them over to you so you can concentrate on your work.”
“Thanks. That would be great.” you flash a smile.
* * * * *
Later that night, you walked into the bar, and quickly spotted Tyler with his team.
“Hey, Y/N! Over here!” he waved at you.
You join the team at the pool table. “Y/N, meet my team. This is Dani, Lily, Boone, and Dexter.” he introduced them.
“Nice to meet you guys.” you nod.
“Wanna play a round?” he asked.
“No, not right now. I think I am just gonna grab a drink and watch you guys. Maybe do some line dancing.”
“Alright..maybe next round?” he asked.
“Maybe.” you agree, going to the bar to order your drink. When you return, you stand next to Tyler as it was his turn to shoot. He pocketed two balls at once.
“Woo! My good luck charm!” he grinned, giving you a hug. “What about next round we make teams. You're on my team.” he smiled.
“Or it can be boys vs girls.” you raise an eyebrow at him.
You watch for a few more shots, then finish your beer and head out to the dance floor to join a group of line dancers. Tyler watched you leave, then turned back to the game.
“So that's Y/N. The girl you told us about?” Boone asked.
“Yeah. Don't say anything in front of her, please.” Tyler said.
“So, this is the girl that you were too shy to actually ask out, even though she had been your best friend for almost ten years, right?” Lily said.
“Yeah. And the girl that I threw myself in front of a bull for. She's the reason that I left the rodeo circuit, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I couldn't just stand there when she was in the path of that bull. I figured it would kill me, but I didn't care. I'd rather it be me then her.”
“Why didn't you ever call her or anything man?” Boone asked, “I mean..she is hot.”
Tyler shot his friend a look, “I didn't know what I was going to do with my life. After I got out of the hospital I had to go though therapy. Then I didn't have a future in the rodeo anymore, but I needed a thrill. I couldn't just do a regular job. I just didn't know what to say to her, and I certainly couldn't ask her out when I didn't know what kind of future I had. After I got started as a storm chaser, years had passed and I figured she had moved on. I didn't need to come back into her life and disrupt whatever she built for herself.”
“You should have called her man.” Dani shook her head. “Why haven't you asked her out since coming back? She is still single, isn't she?”
“Those days are gone, okay? I am just thankful that we are still friends.”
“Well, if you aren't going to ask her out, I am.” Boone teased. “Come on man, you don't think she's hot?”
“Boone, don't talk about her like that. She's beautiful, not just hot.” Tyler said, his gaze landing back on you as the song finished and you left the dance floor.
“So she's a beautiful friend that you just aren't into...okay. I got it.” Boone nodded.
“Shut up.” Tyler hissed, not wanting you to over hear their conversation.
“So, who's winning?” You ask.
“I am. You were my good luck charm, so just stay here. Maybe I can win in another shot or two.” Tyler grinned, taking his turn. He failed to score.
“Guess your luck ran out.” you grinned at him as a guy approached you.
“Excuse me, Miss. Would you care to dance with me?” he tipped his at you.
You thought for a moment, not normally being one to dance with strangers at a bar. He was cute and he seemed to be a gentleman, so you agreed. “Sure. I'll give you a dance or two.”
Tyler looked heartbroken as he watched the stranger take your hand and lead you onto the dance floor. He put one arm around your waist and held your hand as he guided you across the dance floor.
“See, that could have been you.” Boone said.
“Drop it, Boone.” Tyler warned. He no longer was paying attention to the game. He kept watching you on the dance floor with the stranger.
The song ended and you nodded to the man, “Thanks for the dance.”
“Hey...one more?” he asked, squeezing your arm a little too tightly, making you feel uneasy.
“No, I think I am going to go back over there with my friends. I need a break.” You give him a smile, trying to be nice.
Tyler was watching, noticing the stranger holding your arm, but unable hear what was being said. He sat his pool stick down and started to walk briskly over to the dance floor, his eyes never leaving you.
“I said one more dance! Don't be a tease!” the stranger pulled you roughly against him, and grabbed your ass with his hands.
Tyler took off running to the dance floor, grabbing the man by the shirt and slinging him to the floor in one brisk movement. “Keep your damn hands off of her.” he roared, towing over the man.
“And who the hell are you?” the man jumped up, getting into Tyler's face.
“None of your damn business who I am. I said keep your hands off of her. Get the hell out of here!” he took a step towards the stranger.
The man threw a punch towards Tyler, which he ducked, grabbing the man by the neck and slamming him against the wall, “You best be getting the hell out of here, before I take this out to the parking lot.” Tyler seethed.
“Okay Okay. Whatever.” the stranger muttered, putting his hands up. “She was just a big tease anyhow.” he mutter.
Tyler took the man and tossed him to the floor, ready to throw another punch when you walked up to him, putting a hand on his arm. “It's okay. Let him go.” you whisper as the man scrambled to his feet and headed for the door.
“You okay?” Tyler asked, wrapping an arm protectively around you.
“Yeah, but I think I am done for the night. I am going to head home.” you say.
“Alright. Give me a minute to pay our tab and I'll follow you.” Tyler said, “Make sure that creep isn't out there or tries to follow you or anything.”
“Thank you.” you give him a smiled.
“Anytime, sweetheart.” he winks.
You heart flutters a little when Tyler calls you 'sweetheart.' That used to be his nickname for you all those years ago. You never did allow anyone else to call you that. You wait at the door while Tyler talks to his team, pays the tab and then places a hand on your shoulder as you both walk out the door together. He walks you to the car, checking all around the parking lot to make sure there was no one standing out there.
Tyler waits until you are safely in the car with the doors locked, “Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?” he says.
“Yeah, maybe.” you nod.
“Alright, wait until I get my truck started and I'll follow you home.”
You nod and Tyler jogs to his truck, firing it up. You pull out of the parking lot and he is right behind you. Once you reach your drive way, he honks his horn and seeing no other cars on the road, pulls into his own drive.
Chapter 2
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steddielations ¡ 2 years ago
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“Evening, sir.”
It’s the Harrington boy. Again.
“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.
Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.
“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.
“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”
He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—
“Like Ed?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”
“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.
“The Colts win?”
Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”
It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.
Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.
His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.
Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.
His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.
Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.
Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.
His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.
The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.
Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.
It worked until all this mess.
That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.
‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.
That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t go get his boy.
So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.
“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.
Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.
It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.
Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.
“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”
Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”
That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.
Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.
“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.
“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”
“Oh, I can use a diff—”
“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”
Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.
Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.
“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”
As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.
Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”
Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.
“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”
Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”
It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.
“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.
Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.
Read the rest on Ao3
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book--brackets ¡ 7 months ago
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The Scholomance by Naomi Novik (2020-2022)
A Deadly Education is set at Scholomance, a school for the magically gifted where failure means certain death (for real) — until one girl, El, begins to unlock its many secrets. There are no teachers, no holidays, and no friendships, save strategic ones. Survival is more important than any letter grade, for the school won’t allow its students to leave until they graduate… or die! The rules are deceptively simple: Don’t walk the halls alone. And beware of the monsters who lurk everywhere. El is uniquely prepared for the school’s dangers. She may be without allies, but she possesses a dark power strong enough to level mountains and wipe out millions. It would be easy enough for El to defeat the monsters that prowl the school. The problem? Her powerful dark magic might also kill all the other students.
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They have always scared him in the past--the Rangers, with their dark cloaksand shadowy ways. The villagers believe the Rangers practice magic that makes them invisible to ordinary people. And now 15-year-old Will, always small for his age, has been chosen as a Ranger's apprentice. What he doesn't yet realize is that the Rangers are the protectors of the kingdom. Highly trained in the skills of battle and surveillance, they fight the battles before the battles reach the people. And as Will is about to learn, there is a large battle brewing. The exiled Morgarath, Lord of the Mountains of Rain and Night, is gathering his forces for an attack on the kingdom. This time, he will not be denied. . . . 
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She's totally unprepared for time travel, not to mention all that comes with it: fancy clothes, archaic manners, a mysterious secret society, and Gideon, her time-traveling counterpart. He's obnoxious, a know-it-all, and possibly the best-looking guy she's seen in any century...
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She was born with her eyes closed and a word on her tongue, a word she could not taste.
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Hex Hall by Rachel Hawkins (2010-2013)
Three years ago, Sophie Mercer discovered that she was a witch. It's gotten her into a few scrapes. Her non-gifted mother has been as supportive as possible, consulting Sophie's estranged father—an elusive European warlock—only when necessary. But when Sophie attracts too much human attention for a prom-night spell gone horribly wrong, it's her dad who decides her punishment: exile to Hex Hall, an isolated reform school for wayward Prodigium, a.k.a. witches, faeries, and shapeshifters. 
By the end of her first day among fellow freak-teens, Sophie has quite a scorecard: three powerful enemies who look like supermodels, a futile crush on a gorgeous warlock, a creepy tag-along ghost, and a new roommate who happens to be the most hated person and only vampire student on campus. Worse, Sophie soon learns that a mysterious predator has been attacking students, and her only friend is the number-one suspect. 
As a series of blood-curdling mysteries starts to converge, Sophie prepares for the biggest threat of all: an ancient secret society determined to destroy all Prodigium, especially her.
Fables by Bill Willingham (2002-2015)
When a savage creature known only as the Adversary conquered the fabled lands of legends and fairy tales, all of the infamous inhabitants of folklore were forced into exile. Disguised among the ""mundys,"" their name for normal citizens of modern-day New York, these magical characters created their own secret society that they call Fabletown.
From their exclusive luxury apartment buildings on Manhattan's Upper West Side, these creatures of legend must fight for their survival in the new world.
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On a beautiful world called Pern, an ancient way of life is about to come under attack from a myth that is all too real. Lessa is an outcast survivor--her parents murdered, her birthright stolen--a strong young woman who has never stopped dreaming of revenge. But when an ancient threat to Pern reemerges, Lessa will rise--upon the back of a great dragon with whom she shares a telepathic bond more intimate than any human connection. Together, dragon and rider will fly . . . and Pern will be changed forever.
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England is a virtual police state where an aunt can get lost (literally) in a Wordsworth poem and forging Byronic verse is a punishable offense. All this is business as usual for Thursday Next, renowned Special Operative in literary detection. But when someone begins kidnapping characters from works of literature and plucks Jane Eyre from the pages of Bront 's novel, Thursday is faced with the challenge of her career.
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The Emperor needs necromancers.
The Ninth Necromancer needs a swordswoman.
Gideon has a sword, some dirty magazines, and no more time for undead nonsense.
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Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House and bone witch extraordinaire, has been summoned into action. The Emperor has invited the heirs to each of his loyal Houses to a deadly trial of wits and skill. If Harrowhark succeeds she will be become an immortal, all-powerful servant of the Resurrection, but no necromancer can ascend without their cavalier. Without Gideon's sword, Harrow will fail, and the Ninth House will die.
Of course, some things are better left dead.
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evilminji ¡ 11 months ago
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We all know how Vlad likes to make clones of Danny and then get rid of them when they don't work out I'm just imagining a entire crack filled idea Ra is one of those clones I just got accidentally into a dimension.
Ra got thrown all the way back in time in a different dimension and is incredibly pissed at Vlad for creating him and worried about Danny if Vlad making more clones like Ra
Out of spite not only does Ra come immortal and try to do glad when it comes to doing shady things to make Danny proud aka the best mother of all times he's also trying to make the world a better place he got the weird balance of Danny along with Vlad obsessions. 100 years into making the colt and being alive Danny finds out about Ross existence as the ghost King and decides you know what I support all my children as a mother even when they are starting coats or planning world domination, and destruction. In the straight up tells Ra don't kill too many people you make mom's job harder and anytime you need something call me I'm proud of you for at least waiting to make the world a better place. Like on the scale of good and bad Danny placed him right in the middle Ellie wants to be a hero and a traveler so if she's in the top when it comes to the good skeleton in the middle scale is Ra cuz does he own a cult yes but he also wants to make a world a better place, and Dan is at dead last for just wanting destruction sometimes but he's working on it he does clay art now.
Ra also inherited Danny's ability to make things chaotic without even trying. I just see Rose dropping to Talia and Damien sometimes while your great/grandmother was country but other than I don't think we have any more races mixed with us.
Or he just drops I'm not laying tally I have the sleeping normally my mother was 14 when he had my siblings in me and mother described it as going to do with excruciating hell.
Talia has been tired argument with Ra after he accidentally just straight up says well great grandfather was grandmother's uncle he did go to school with mother's parents and was best friends with mother's father.
Tim is so confused and all he wants his answers in the background .
I can just see Ra comparing Damien's fearless his old mother's fear illness he will mention of nowhere mother fist fought father when they first met or mother can break a wall with a single hit of their head.
Talia is going to be so confused when they find out that only is mother a crazy batshit person he's also the ghost King.
Talia staring at Grandma who is the ghost King: father did you not think this was important to tell me sooner.
Ra: I have mentioned this before in one of my conversations about mother you just weren't listening Talia.
Danny in the background frelingover his kid and his grandchildren along with great grandchild.
Ra full name is Ra Al Ghul 'Dirgham' Fenton Master
Danny says they had to keep with the cycle of the names no matter where they are in the name.
(This is also my secret chance to finally Vlad Masters as Arabic you can pray that out of my cold dead hands Danny American-born Chinese who who has a very strong country accident because of his father)
Any who don't have to write this I just hope you had a good laugh form my stupid writing I really do love your work hope you have a fun time reading this ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯\⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠/
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Not stupid! I got my first Ficlette! :D this is amazing and thank you! I did enjoy it!
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droodlebug ¡ 29 days ago
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Tokyo Debunker Playlists
My brand of autism is one that means I make a playlist for characters a love and I love all the tkdb ghouls enough I did it for Every Single One. They're still a little wip, but are Mostly final. It's been a fun exploration of seeing how my taste in music applies to so many different personalities and how many songs I had to find and return to
It would be easier if I could just share my Spotify folder, but they're all here under the cut ! They're all in a specific listening order, so I don't recommend shuffling them on first listen <3
The MC
Frostheim
Jin Kamurai
Tohma Ishibashi
Lucas Errant
Kaito Fuji
Vagastrom
Alan Mido
Leo Kurosagi
Sho Haizono
Jabberwock
Haru Sagura
Towa Otonashi
Ren Shiranami
Sinostra
Taiga Hoshibami
Romeo S. Lucci
Ritsu Shinjo
Hotarubi
Subaru Kagami
Haku Kusanagi this one is all over the place i'm struggling. listen at your own risk lmao
Zenji Kotodama
Obscuary
Edward Hart
Rui Mizuki
Lyca Colt
Mortkranken
Jiro Kirisaki
Yuri Isami
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wordywarriorwrites ¡ 4 months ago
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Green on the Vine
Title: Green on the Vine | A03 | Rating: T+
Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader
Summary: There's nothing time hasn't touched - except maybe her love for him.
Warnings: Brief mentions of violence and spice.
A/N: This one's for you, @goodwithcheese - hope it meets with your approval. Inspo. ❤️🍓
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Atop a quilted blanket beside the riverbank, with a neon moon high overhead – that’s where Joel Miller had remade her.
A farmhand who was helping her grandpa for the summer. Just nineteen to her seventeen, but somehow, worldlier. Slower to smile, but polite. A thinker if there ever was one.  
Shy curiosity and too-fast car rides with all the windows down. Picking strawberries at the crack of dawn. Fixing fence posts and exercising the horses. Drinking lemonade from the same glass beneath the shade of an oak tree older than God. A chaste kiss to her cheek in thanks for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich morphing into hickeys on her collarbone.
The calm water – the same water she’d been swimming in since toddlerhood – is refreshingly cool against her toes. It’s gentle as laps back and forth, up and over the tiny pebbles just scant inches from the edge of the blanket spread beneath her across the tall, soft grass. She can see the outline of Joel’s lithe form break from beneath the water’s surface, the moonlight highlighting drops of water as they steadily drip-drop from the tips of his ears and jut of his chin.
She knows what they’ve just done won’t change anything – not really. In less than two months, he’ll be gone. Back to university, hundreds of miles away…
“You getting in?” he calls.
She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t try to cover up, doesn’t let the realization of how soon he’ll be gone ruin everything. She just lets the water take her from the shoreline to the warmth of his embrace. She feels his nose, how it presses into the crook of her neck. The breadth of his shoulders as he inhales deeply, chest expanding, strong arms making ripples as he slowly, carefully, eases her legs around his waist and brings her in close.
A soft, lingering kiss pressed to her shoulder. A pointed squeeze to her hip.
“You okay?”
A weighted question. An expected one, especially from Joel, who she’s discovered is sometimes as skittish as a colt. He’s quiet, keener to listen than talk, which means he hears and sees more than most people she knows. She understands that about him, appreciates that about him, and reassurance is easily given – a slow nod, followed by a ‘mm-hm.’
Because physically, she is okay. It was nothing like the horror stories she’d heard from her friends.
Perhaps that was because Joel knew what he was doing – or at least, it seemed like he did. Limited experience and what she’d heard whispered at sleepovers and in locker rooms had prepared her for impatience. For demands she couldn’t meet. For pain.
But not with Joel.
With Joel, she hungered. For his touch and the way his fingers dug into her flesh and his palms burned her skin. For his kiss – the sensation of him licking into her mouth, tongue hot and lips soft, teeth sinking into her throat and the hinge of her jaw. He brought out in her a new desperation she’d never known before; one that emboldened her, and made her want to feel more, explore more.  
No rushing. No judgment. No shame. Just laughter and racing hearts and learning what one another liked. Weeks of steaming up the backseat windows and sneaking off into the barn before she got her first real taste of what other girls her age called love. It had moved so fast with him – faster than was probably wise, given how much her heart had also gotten involved – but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. Hadn’t wanted to stop herself.
Because she wanted Joel Miller.
And images she always will.
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In November, she gets a letter. Nothing too long, because he doesn’t have much to say, but it’s enough to make the pain of his departure hurt a little bit less.
It’s followed by charming, goofy cards on Christmas and Valentine’s Day that make her smile.
In May, she gets another Hallmark – this time, for her eighteenth birthday. She laughs and displays it on her dresser next to a copy of her Valedictorian speech.
In July, it’s a letter. Two pages this time, front and back, and what he writes brings tears. Makes them well until they roll, landing on the paper and smudging some of the ink where he’d signed his name. And she reminds herself of what they agreed to and the promises they’d made; that they wouldn’t get hung up on each other, that they’d find happiness beyond the summer, that they’d be glad for each other when it came…
She’d never been sorry, and even with this, even with knowing he’s moving on – she’s still not.
And she never will be.
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She’s a junior in college when Grandpa dies.
And that’s when Joel Miller calls for the first time.
The day after the funeral. When she’s alone at the farm with her grief, and the house is too quiet and still, that’s when her cell rings. The sound of his voice warms her in the same way it had back them, only this time, there’s a double tap of agony to her heart because the memories are compounded by the pain of both a fresh loss and the moons and miles between her and him.  
A sob tries to crawl its way up the back of her throat, but it gets stuck. Not because of anything Joel says, but because a cry of a different kind comes out first. A squeal of a child’s voice. A calling of ‘daddy, daddy!’  The thud of footfalls and a muffled ‘oof!’ A gentle shushing, followed by, ‘Give daddy a minute, baby girl. I’m on the phone with a friend.’
“M’sorry about that,” he sighs.
“You have a daughter,” she replies.
Over the next ten minutes, Joel speaks more than he ever has, and there’s no denying the tears that follow are a complicated mix of happy and sad.
Joel Miller had only been hers for a fleeting moment in time, and while she’d never say it to him, she could admit to herself that she’d broken her promise. She still longed for him, and for her, something was still there.
Always had been.
Always would be.
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There hadn’t been any more cards, letters, or calls.
But she did visit the farm every summer – right up until the world ended.
When that happened, nothing mattered, least of all the torch she carried for Joel. Self-preservation overrode everything, and she learned early on not to allow herself to care about such things.
Nothing soft – nothing innocent – could survive such a wasteland.  
She couldn’t exactly recall when she’d last seen the farm, but she was on her own and could think of nowhere else to go. When she arrived, she wasn’t surprised to find the clickers and raiders and scavengers had done a number on the place. Overgrown fields. A dilapidated barn. The structure of the house was nothing but a skeleton – all bones and broken windows, no warmth or life.
But the path to the river – from what she could remember, that hadn’t changed much. But still, she walked it cautiously, gun in hand, ears straining for any signs of life. She tried not to look at the oak tree, tried not to stop and see if their jaggedly carved initials had made it through the apocalypse, but her feet took her there anyway.
Caught up in a moment, she let her mind wander. Allowing herself to feel something. To set aside the numbness, just for a moment, and recollect something that hadn’t been tainted. It’s why she completely missed the fresh tracks, and why she didn’t notice the rather poorly hidden backpack, beat-up rifle, and tattered, filthy clothes in the overgrown brush.
The silence breaks with the softest of splashes, followed by a dark head of hair, broad shoulders, and a long sigh. Shock and disbelief, she thinks, is what stops her from instinctively lifting her gun and firing.
He’s quick to realize he’s not alone, and he stands, bare-chested and hands fisted at his sides. Water sloughs down his torso and ripples beneath his navel, the action of him coming to his full height revealing a knife strapped to his forearm. Forty years, maybe longer; ravaged by time and circumstances; hallowed eyes full of pain and loss…
Even with all that, she knows it’s him. Sees him.
This scar-littered man exuded danger and fury. Battle weary. Worn. Perhaps even broken beyond repair. He was no longer the same Joel Miller she once knew. And she was no longer the same girl he’d made love to beneath the hot July moon all those years ago, but still…
A long stretch of nothing but standing and staring. Then, a flare of recognition. Joel doesn’t exactly smile at her, but he relaxes, and eventually, sinks back into the water. A heartbeat, maybe two, and then he gruffly asks.
“You gettin’ in?”
And she does.
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so-much-for-the-seashells ¡ 9 months ago
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Coffees, Plural
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Colt Seavers (The Fall Guy 2024) x Reader
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters in this story except for Sheila and the reader insert!
Author’s Notes: Reader uses she/her pronouns and is AFAB; reader has an immigrant mother, however where her mother is from is unspecified. The plot of the movie hath been screwed with, basically just imagine the movie with no *SPOILERRR* murdering by our dear leading man, that Jody and Colt are just friends and Colt never had his accident. While I don’t like erasing big plots it was hard to work around it with the timeframe of both the movie and the fic, hopefully the writing makes up for it 🙃 Jody and reader are friends from college, Colt and reader meet on the set of Metalstorm. If you like the story, a comment would be super appreciated! Part two and three are out! Icons by @gosling-girlx !! She’s the best!
Content/Content Warning: Nothing crazy, this is just the meet cute!
𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟
If you had asked me what I thought I’d be doing with my life ten years ago, me-from-ten-years-ago would have told you something along the lines of “I don’t know,” “teacher,” or perhaps “nomad.”
That would’ve been her (me-from-ten-years-ago’s) third year of college, where she was newly 21, burnt out, sick of the education program, and just about ready to drop out.
Then she discovered makeup. Fun, out of the box makeup. Her immigrant mother, who really did mean well, had given her a graphic liner palette for Christmas- “Oh honey, I thought this was the makeup you wanted!” And sure, it wasn’t what she had wanted… at first… but then, the week before exams in a fit of stress, she tried it out. Five hours later she discovered a talent she never knew she had, and had created a look that had astounded both her and her roommate, Jody Moreno.
She’d always been good at the basics- rarely did a day pass without getting a compliment on her eyeliner wing or her ombré eyeshadow, but this graphic liner? This was where it was at. It challenged her and made her smile, and she finally found what she wanted to do in her life. Makeup-more specifically the out of the box makeup- had been what spoke to her after years of not knowing what it was that she truly loved.
She- I- dropped out the day before my exam. A couple years later, after some practice and online beauty school, I had a steady gig going with weddings, senior pictures and other fancy clientele. My mom wasn’t super hyped about the idea of a makeup artist daughter at first, but once she saw the bank I was making within half a year of working her mind was changed.
Now listen. I wasn’t actively looking to be this restless soul who wouldn’t stop until she found “the perfect gig.”
But quite frankly, the makeup that pays the best is usually the most boring in composition. I could do these plain, “natural” looks in my sleep. But the thing was, nothing was giving me the same rush as when I ventured out of “normalcy” with that graphic liner years ago. Sure, in my free time I’d practice the cool graphic stuff, even venturing into more VFX style stuff, like wicked scars and things, but my free time was few and far between.
About a year ago, that same Jody Moreno, my old roommate reached out. As far as careers go she definitely had a straighter path than me. For as long as she could remember she wanted to be a director, she’d tell me. We both went to community college, but for her it was for her undergraduate so she would have a fall back if her film degree didn’t end up taking her anywhere.
Film ended up working out for her, and though we lost touch after community college, from what I’d seen on her Instagram she was doing pretty freaking well for herself, and I was happy for her.
Her producer finally gave her a shot at directing her own film last year, a movie called “Metalstorm.” Some sort of space opera with a cowboy of all things, starring world-famous actor Tom Ryder.
Now, I’m not personally too big on Tom Ryder movies- he comes off as a douche and his acting is… a choice, to say the least.
However, when your old roommate reaches out with a job proposition to be a part of a Tom Ryder movie, you don’t say no.
I couldn’t have said yes faster to Jody’s offer. I remember gawking at the screen when I read her message-
“Hey, y/n!
I know it’s been a long while, and I’m sorry for that!
To make up for it, I was wondering if you’d like to work as makeup artist on this movie I’m directing? It’s sort of a space opera with a cowboy- I know, it sounds random- and the producer’s letting me do some of my own hires if I’d like.
Anyway, if you’re interested, I’ll provide you with more details. We’ll be shooting in Australia, and I’ll get you your own trailer on set. Just let me know!
X Jody Moreno”
I could barely register how adorable it was that she still signed off with an X after all these years because of how shocked I was.
First was the fact that she had gotten her own movie- it wasn’t so much shocking as incredible, and super exciting.
Second was the fact that she was offering me a job, and that she remembered me when she got big in the industry. I had told her before I dropped out to remember me when she was famous, as a joke, but I guess she took it seriously which was extremely endearing.
I replied with an enthusiastic “yes!” and the next thing I knew I was in Australia.
I’ve gotten to do all sorts of weird makeup things since I’ve been here, including funky scars and alien makeup. It’s the dream, and it’s a blast!
I have even been trusted to do Tom Ryder’s looks, which thankfully don’t take too much effort or time because as I suspected, he is in fact a massive douche with an ego the size of Mars. I was able to get him passed over to Sheila, our executive makeup artist who takes no nonsense, and who cuts him off by busting into song- usually an eighties hit- any time he tries to speak. She has a great voice, so both the lack of his asshole words and the presence of her beautiful voice are very much welcomed.
Sheila liked the work I was doing for the Space Cowboy scars though, so she gave me Douchebag’s main stuntman to work on.
Enter Colt Seavers. Six feet of pure muscle and a well filled out frame, blue eyes with an energy that can only be described as “puppy-like,” brown hair that’s dyed blonde on the tips to match Douchebag, and a rogue-ish beard. He’s undeniably attractive, and he’s got a sarcastic sense of humor to match.
Basically, he’s what Tom Ryder is played out to be, but better. 
When I had first met him, it took me a hot minute to pick my jaw up off the floor. It was a Monday morning, three months into my time on the filming site. I’d over slept that morning, and made it to the makeup trailer ten minutes late, worried that my new client would be wondering where I was. In my defense, 6 in the morning is too early to be doing anything.
I had breathed out a huge sigh of relief when I found out that he was apparently also running late, and grabbed a grape soda from the mini fridge in the trailer. We had every flavor- from cherry to pickle- but I was most fond of grape.
Sheila, who was my main friend in the makeup crew as well as being my most direct boss, didn’t have to come in for another hour because Tom Ryder was always (at least!!) an hour and a half late to every appointment. I didn’t really know the other artists at the time, so I just sat in my chair waiting for my client as the others worked on the early clients. They were working on the extras who played humans in the upcoming scene, making sure everyone had a unique futuristic look.
Ten minutes later I decided I was sick of waiting and pulled out my graphic liner, the same pallet from ten years ago. It was a little worse for wear, about half the colors missing and the others not far off. But it reminded me of my roots and why I was where I was, and I couldn’t bear to part with it- even if I was in dire need of pink. Kidding. I love the thing, so, so much.
I ended up doing something elaborate with purple, green and blue arches. It sort of looked like the northern lights, if the northern lights were a dramatic eyeliner wing.
I was nearly done with the touch ups, too locked in on the look to notice on the figure that appeared behind me somewhere between the second swipe of purple and the subtle yellow accent.
“Hi! You must be y/n, sorry I’m late-” came a soft, low voice that had a slight gravel to it. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly focusing on the exact tone of his voice when I jumped with a slight squeak and dragged yellow down the side of my face. Real nice.
“Oof, sorry!” he said. He was holding two cups of coffee, and he looked very unsure of what to do.
If wiping yellow eyeliner down the side of my face hadn’t been embarrassing enough, I just had to look up. I caught his blue-eyed gaze in the mirror, took in all six feet of him and was basically, to put it as elegantly as possible, completely taken aback by his hotness.
I promise I’m not a superficial person, by the way. Colt Seavers is just really this pretty. I’ve never been one to notice the “intensity of the blue hue of [one’s] eyes,” or any romance novel cliche like that, but Colt Seavers was a very different story.
Remember how I mentioned that my jaw had been on the floor when I met him? When I stopped mentally drooling over him in his dirty white Space Cowboy costume with all its latches and gold accents I realized that my mouth was actually open. Oops. Really great first impression.
“I’m so sorry. Let’s try this again. I’m y/n, and you’re-“
“Colt Seavers- stuntman, and guy who scares makeup artists when he’s a half hour late. Sorry I startled you,” he apologized genuinely.
“It’s all good,” I said, standing up. His chest is eye level, and I don’t really know how to feel about that. “I’ll tell you what- how about you take a seat and just give me a minute to wash this off,” I suggest.
“Yeah of course, please, take your time!”
“No worries, it’ll be just a minute. You can set your coffees, plural, on the counter in front of the chair,” I told him.
“My coffees, plural, and I are grateful for your kindness,” he teased. I shook my head and smiled, and then walked into the bathroom of the trailer to fix my face. About a minute it was off- thankfully my old pallet wasn’t the most top notch makeup. I returned back to my little booth of sorts, where Colt sat comfortably, his leg bouncing up and down.
“Are your coffees, plural, comfortable?” I asked by way of greeting.
“Why yes they are, thank you,” he chuckled.
“I’m going to get started on the scarring in your face, if that’s alright?”
“Of course.”
“So… the coffees?” I tried to make conversation as I pulled a couple of pallets out from the drawer in the booth.
“They’re my life force,” he says dramatically.
“Oh yeah?” I first grab an alcohol wipe, and gently wipe his face.
“Yep- and also the reason I was late. Sorry again, by the way.”
“No worries- I was late too. Only ten minutes though,” I start applying primer with a fluffy brush.
“We can’t all be a half hour late,” he conceded as if it were an accomplishment. I liked his humor right off the bat.
“That is true…” I agree as I finish applying the powder. “Alright, we’re going to let that sit a minute. Care to tell me how your coffees- plural- made you late?”
His ears turn red. Man, he’s cute.
“Er- I have an affinity- not an addiction!- for coffee, if you couldn’t already tell.”
“An affinity?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to emulate The Rock in my stare.
“Yes, an affinity,” there was that little laugh again. It’s sort of a giggle, and definitely unexpected from this guy who looks like a walking action hero. I liked it. “Anyway, I drank a cup-or two-before getting into this costume, thinking that if I had to, er, piss, I could get out of it easily. It took a half hour to get into all of these damn buckles, and by the end of that half hour, guess who had to piss?”
“The costume designer?” I joked. That got a laugh out of him, again.
“Yes, the costume designer, obviously. But yeah, apparently a side effect of my coffee addic-affinity is perpetual lateness.”
“Huh, I’ll have to keep that in mind,” I noted as I reached for one of my pallets. “I’m going to start on the scarring on your face, there’s one that goes on your left cheek and another where your hair’s parted.”
“Okay, sounds good.” It’s quiet for a little bit, but not necessarily in an awkward way. I’m about halfway done with the scarring on his cheek, the one that’s supposed to look like a fresh wound.
“So, how’d you get into makeup?” Colt asked, careful not to move his mouth too much.
“Oh, that’s a bit of a long story,” I told him, adding highlights to the scar.
“I’ve got time,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirked up.
“If you say so…” I mumbled, before telling him the abridged version of how I got into makeup.
“I have to say, I’m really glad your mom bought you the wrong pallet,” he commented at the end of my story.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, you’re really good at what you do,” he complimented, sincerity in his voice as he checked himself out in mirror. By that point I had finished his face, and stepped behind him so he could see himself. We both smiled, eyes meeting in the glass.
“Thanks,” I said, trying not to cringe at the light blush that had appeared on my face.
Looking back on it, I think my crush on Colt Seavers really did develop on day one. But little did I know, it’d only get stronger.
𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟𐏿𐏟
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