#'wish we could turn back time/ to the good old days' yeah man I feel that.

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

Hey, I know the fandom's long gone now and you're not on here as much, but I just wanted to tell you I'm really glad I got to meet you through AH. Your writing for fahc stuff always made me smile and I still have a bunch of it saved in my drafts cause I used to go back and re-read it so much, every so often I think about the think about the writing prompt you did once for Michael, Gavin and Jeremy with "the happiest we ever were" and it makes me feel some sort of way I can't even describe. Anyway, you're really cool and an amazing writer and I'm very lucky I got to share a fandom space with you <3

First, thank you so much, this is incredibly sweet (and flattering) and although I know it might be lame to say back at you, I mean... back at you. I'm pretty sure I'm the lucky one here, because I'm just some guy who wrote some words one time, and yet it introduced me to some of the best people I've known, yourself included.

I think back on that time so often, and I'm always wishing to go back to it, to not have let myself lose it. It was so much fun and it brought me so much joy I can't even begin to put it into words.

I could go on and on about how much the fandom means to me, but suffice it to say I am forever grateful to have shared the space with you, and you're in my heart always 💚💚

[lamiadrowned]

Hellooo! those jinx dating headcanons were so cute, could you maybe expand on Silco meeting Jinx's partner? 🩷

*:･ﾟ✧ silco meeting jinx’s partner

jinx x fem!reader | sfw

this made me so happy to write, the flashback we got of younger silco is heavy on my mind :,) missing him

it would definitely be a lot less intimidating than you’d expect!

in the month or so that you’ve been with jinx, silco isn’t immediately distrusting of you since she talks often about how great you are. not only that, but he can see the difference you’ve made in her life and her mental state. how cheery she becomes when she talks about you. how big her smile gets when he asks about you.

however, it seems she’s a bit embarrassed at the idea of introducing him to you. so, being the protective father that he is, he takes the initiative.

one day, as you’re heading home from work, you quickly reach for the switchblade in your back pocket when you feel a hand on your shoulder behind you.

you turn around to see there’s a woman (who is considerably taller and buffer than you) standing there, clearly surprised to see a knife pointed at her. “my name is sevika, i’m here on behalf of silco. he wants to see you in his office before the day ends. is now a good time?”

thankfully, you recognize the name. jinx had talked about going on a few missions with her. you lower your knife and shrug. “uh… yeah. yeah, now’s fine. lead the way.”

she nods and proceeds to walk with you a few streets down to the building, offering some polite conversation and reassurance– this meeting is solely for the purpose of introducing himself to you, since his daughter won’t.

she takes you to the door of silco’s office, opening it for you and wishing you good luck.

you don’t immediately see silco, but you do hear his voice. “take a seat wherever you’d like.”

once sevika shuts the door behind you, you take a deep breath and follow his instructions; sitting down at his desk and watching his own chair spin around so that he can finally come face-to-face with you.

your anxiety is through the roof and your heart won’t slow down no matter how many deep breaths you take, but you’re able to muster a polite smile.

he sees right through it, though. of course. like father, like daughter. “you seem frightened. i apologize if sevika gave you a scare.“

“oh, no– she was really nice. it’s just… i wasn’t expecting a meeting with the kingpin of the underground today.” you joke.

he laughs, which makes you a bit more comfortable. “another apology is in order, then. i know this is sudden, but jinx… she gets so bashful at the idea of introducing us. i figured, why don’t i take the big leap?”

you nod. “yeah, of course. she talks very highly of you.”

“and you, as well. she talks my ear off, a million words a minute if she finds a way to bring you up.” silco shakes his head with a growing smile. “it’s impressive, how quickly she’s become smitten with you. i’d think you were a sorceress if i didn’t know any better.”

you’re flattered by his kind words, and a bit excited by the fact that she seemingly talks about you so much. you must be doing something right.

the two of you continue on as you answer all of the questions he asks about your upbringing and your current life, and you ask questions about his. it almost begins to feel like you’re talking to an old friend, not the most feared and influential man in the lanes.

however, at one point, he suddenly becomes very serious.

“now, i feel this is an appropriate time to tell you this. you seem to be a genuinely good person, which is all too rare these days.” silco sighs. then, he clasps his hands together and casually leans forward onto the desk, resting his chin on his fists. “with that being said, if i ever come to find out that you have made my daughter suffer in any way, you will never know peace again. do i make myself clear?”

your eyes widen. you’re finally starting to see why the entire population of zaun is scared witless by him. “understood. it will never come to that, though. i can only hope you take my word for it.”

silco nods in approval of your answer. he’s very impressed by your ability to remain calm in the face of his intimidation. it only proves to him that you’re as good as you seem, and that your intentions are pure– you have nothing to hide.

after a brief silence, he opens his mouth to speak again, but he’s interrupted by the sound of his office door slamming open.

“she’s missing!”

you’re shocked to hear jinx. she sounds frantic, voice hoarse and pitchy, like she can’t contain her terror. “i checked everywhere, high and low! we need to send one of your goons to–”

she’s silenced when she sees you turn around in your chair and meet her glare. her look of horror turns into one of confusion. “what the hell is going on here? is this an intervention?”

you snort at her question, patting the chair next to you, inviting her to come sit down. her shoulders slump and she lets out a dramatic huff as she sulks over to sit beside you. her arms cross defensively. “i don’t know what you weirdos think i did, but those fireworks going off last night were not mine, and to be frank, it’s kind of offensive that you’d assume i–”

“jinx, if you don’t mind,” silco puts a hand up, imploring her to stop talking. “we’ll talk about those fireworks later.”

“what?! i just said they weren’t mine.” jinx scoffs.

“you ramble when you lie. don’t you think i’d know that by now?” silco sighs. “that’s beside the point. since you had no plans to introduce me to y/n, i decided to introduce myself.”

you hum in confirmation. “that’s all. no intervention.”

it takes jinx a long moment to process this information; it seems as if she forgot silco has eyes everywhere, and when he wants something done, it will be done.

you’re almost expecting her to be upset before a beaming smile replaces the scowl on her face. “un-fuckin’-believable! i’m searching all over zaun for you, while you’re here, kicking back with him?!” she points in his direction.

“precisely.” silco steps in for you, aware that this is one of those times where she is very happy, yet tries to pretend that she is very upset. “if it’s of any reassurance to you– to both of you– this relationship has my badge of approval.”

instantly, you feel a sense of pride in knowing that you’d made such a good impression on him. he’s a man that’s very hard to impress, as far as you’ve heard.

you reach for jinx’s hand and squeeze it. her smile is almost as big as yours now. “look at that. i aced the big interview, and i haven’t gone missing.“

[gay-dorito-dust]

Giving Bill Cipher the princess treatment prompt or hc's? (Bill totally isn't threatening Reader's entire family if they don't princess carry him and call him babygirl) I love how you write Bill by the way!

Warning: unhealthy relationship stuff and threats from bill.

After everything that went down with sixer and his supposed ‘betrayal’ bill didn’t think he’d find an another puppet companion so soon until one day he came across poor unfortunate you.

Some half baked sob stories of his origins and looking through his fingers at you to make sure you were feeling sympathy for him later, and you were effectively under his thumb by the end of the week. The quickest he’s ever manipulated someone into feeling sorry for him yet!

Now you were stuck forced to carry him in your arms whenever he wished and calling him…baby girl…why you never bothered to ask as whenever you did raise things into question with Bill it usual turns out something like this:

You: don’t you think that’s a little extreme?

Bill: and here I thought you were suppose to be supportive of my dreams and aspirations. Oh well I guess you didn’t need your family that much if you’re quick to question me-

You: No! It’s a brilliant plan! No flaws at all! You’re so smart…baby girl…

Bill: *smirks when you fall back in line* good now I demand to be carried in your arms *he gives you grabby hands*

You: *sigh* yes baby girl *proceeds to pick him up and carry him for the rest of the day*

You’d even have to call Bill baby girl when your mad unless you wanted the corpses of your family to be piled up on your front door!

It was ridiculous but what could you do when stuck in a less than ideal relationship with a demonic triangle who could bring you to heel with a simple click of his fingers? You were doomed to be his servant for the sake of your family and even if you did go to anyone about it, who’d believe you? You’d be the new old man Mcgucket for certain.

So you only sigh and do whatever Bill wanted in hopes it will satisfy him enough to leave your family alone, even if it was brief.

The worst case scenario would be If bill saw that you weren’t being enthusiastic in your affection towards him, then that would be a harder thing to dig your way out of. It didn’t matter whether you were tired mentally or physically, if Bill wanted to be carried in your arms he will want you to do so with a complicit smile on your face.

Bill: you don’t look happy to be carrying me? *squints his eye*

You: *quickly puts on a fake smile* what?! I’m more than happy to carry my baby girl! It’s the only highlight of my day, nothing could ever compete with spending time with my baby girl!

Bill: good! For a second there I thought you’d have to be attending a family members funeral for a moment. Haha guess I must’ve been seeing things, right? *he stares uncomfortably at you*

You: yeah because how could I ever show you any other emotion other than happiness and love. *internally dying*

Bill: also don’t over compliment me, it makes you look clingy and I don’t like clingy.

You internally: as if you aren’t clingy yourself you fucking discarded sentient Dorito chip.

It’s better to keep playing his game until he inevitably grows bored of you, and god forbid if you ever encounter Stanford Pines ever, your family is certain for destruction if Bill caught you talking to his traitorous ex partner. (Potential for Stanford x reader?)

Needles to say if you were to ever be granted the ability to time travel, you’d go back and warn yourself to not trust Bill Cipher, not if you want your family’s blood on your hands just because you didn’t call him Babygirl first thing in the morning.

You: morning bi-

Bill: whichever family member your love the most will die in 5 seconds if you don’t correct yourself sweetie.

You: morning babygirl, what should we do today?

Bill: *pats you on the shoulder* that wasn’t so hard was it? And I don’t feel like doing anything that requires me to part from you for suspicious periods of time incase you do something I don’t like. *stares at you menacingly*

You: good choice! All day with my babygirl? I’m so lucky…so extremely….lucky. *looks over at the photo of your family and friends* blessed even…

Bill: you sure are! Now why don’t you carry me! *grabby hands 2.0*

[frownyalfred]

Arkham Prince AU (ignore if you wish, i just needed to get the exchange out of my head after reading the threads in your blog) :

------------------------

Harvey sighed and wished for the thousand time he was able to smoke in the room they allowed him to see Bruce as his legal council. His firm laughed at him, for taking on the pointless case of defending the undefendable, but they didn't know Bruce like he did. How he was before, what drove him to this.

"So you sent this man, to the infirmary. Unprovoked? Jesus H. Christ, Bruce."

The man in question remained standing, staring of the double glass windows, bars obstructing the view in more ways than one. If it wasn't for the chains tying his legs to the concrete and the ARKHAM on the back of his uniform, he would have passed as a unconcerned, everyday man.

"We can't even claim self defense," Harvey continued. "You-"

"He has cancer."

Harvey blinked at the non-sequitur, "What?"

Finally, the orphaned Wayne turned and faced him, face blank, unconcerned about how much more this action would add to his sentencing. Unconcerned except for the steel eyes seething yet holding back so much hurt.

Harvey remembered once again, with a small pang, why he had gotten a crush on Bruce in their college days.

"Nygma. He has cancer. The only way to get medical care in Arkham is by ending up in the hospital wing." Bruce moved with all the weight of the world on his shoulders and sat in the bolted chair across from his lawyer, and life long friend.

Somewhere in Arkham, an alarm rang to let staff know a super had arrived at the facility.

Harvey leaned back in his chair, "So you-"

"Sent him there to get treatment as he recovers from multiple rib fractures, humerus break, and left talus dislocated break. Rendering him non-weight baring. So he had to stay there."

His lawyer let his head hang in exasperation.

Outside the hall, a god like man was buzzed into the hall, two locked doors away from Bruce Wayne. The staff member behind a desk, glass, and bars, informed him he was with a visitor already.

Superman brow furrowed in frustration but he nodded politely and took a seat to wait. Deceptively human behavior. The staff didnt trust it.

"Bruce. There has to be a better way to have helped him. "

"Changing the prison infrastructure from inside my cell is not something I could do. /That/, sending him there directly to be treated, was what I /could/ do."

Bruce could see Harvey revving up to once again bring up the tired old argument, 'Why did you do it? Why kill those people?' 'Why not wait until they were taken in by the law?'

But they both knew there was no way the people guilty would have gone and stayed in prison.

"Don't," Bruce interrupted before the other could start, "You know why I had to do it."

Harvey blinked, and gathered the papers on the table, fitting them in a folder. Pointless papers, except for the monthly 'permission slip' Bruce signed for the charity funds to continue to go to the Martha Wayne Foundation.

"I know. And it gets me so angry, still. For you."

Bruce gave a small genuine smile, though his eyes remained the same - angry, sad.

"Thanks, Harv."

Outside in the waiting area, the super narrowed his eyes, witnessing the exchange, a curious yet odd feeling filling stomach at the scene beyond concrete and wall insulation.

Who was this man, to his- to the League's informant?

(Hope you have a good day! Thank you for indulging us by answering our asks! 👋)

Oh my god Harvey! Yeah, the inversion of Bruce visiting Harvey and Harvey visiting Bruce instead….Harvey never giving up on his friend, convinced Bruce didn’t mean it. I’m sobbing, of course he’d try to help, to look past it, to see the kind and caring man he once knew underneath. Maybe Bruce is protecting him in a way — Arkham has a gravity to it, it pulls in who it wants. And Harvey has always been a target in Gotham.

[onelittlespiral]

Tf where someone's huge musky cock keeps turning others into massive muscle bros on accident?

FML: Cursed

Up front, I’ll say this one’s a bit different. Let me know if you all like it. -❤️

Everything was too bright. My head was pounding. Memories were fading in and out from last night. Fuck, how much did I have to drink last night? I stumbled out of bed, trying to forced myself towards the bathroom to take a piss. I had made a New Year’s resolution to quit the bottle. Yeah, so much for that. I managed a quick piss and splashed some cold water on my face. That helped a bit. At this point all I wanted to do was bury my head back in my pillow. Slowly, I shuffled back towards my bed:

“Yeah? You coming back for more of this?”

A man. A man was in my bed. A hunk of a man was flexing in my bed. My mouth hung open for a moment as my brain chugged to life. I couldn’t quite believe it.

“…God damn it! Uggh, what did I let happen?”

“What, not in the mood? I can be quite,” he started a little pec dance, “persuasive.”

I was not in a mood to be amused by his flirting. “No, no it’s not you-or at least it is you now but-” I stammered, “Look. It’s complicated. Get up, please, I need you out of here. If you take some time to… cool off… it should pass.” I paused a moment, “I’m sorry.”

Quickly, I started pulling together what clothes I could find that would fit his new stature and tossed them at him. Even facing away from him I could tell he was a little taken aback. I’m sure in his current brain he couldn’t quite believe he was being rejected. But I knew it was better for everyone that he leave now. I scooped up his old clothing and threw it all into a tote. It wasn’t his fault he was here in this situation, getting kicked out of a stranger’s house early in the morning. Maybe that’s why I scribbled down my contact info and slipped it into the bag. He would have questions later, he deserved some answers. By now he had managed to put on the cut off tank and the shorts I had thrown him. The shorts were a size too small and left nothing to the imagination, but it would have to work. I doubted his canvas shoes would fit over those behemoths. He would have to go barefoot. After a few awkward pleasantries where he asked me if we should lift together some time and I politely declined, he finally got the message and slipped out the door. I locked it behind him and slumped to the floor. I still had a headache.

It was going to be a long day. At this point I was awake, so I just decided to hit the shower. The steam helped clear my mind so I could try to piece the night together. It had been two years now and it was still happening. I wish I knew how to stop it. But looking back, I’m not sure what else I could have done. Every time it happened though, every time I saw his face, I just replayed that day again in my mind:

We were sitting at our favorite cafe when I broke the news.

“What do you mean? You’re breaking up with me?” my ex boyfriend was stunned. Truly, I don’t think this had ever happened to him before.

“Please don’t act surprised. We both knew this was coming. We aren’t good for each other.”

“Baby, we aren’t good for each other,” he cooed, leaning over and cupping my jaw, “We’re great together. You can’t pretend to deny it. I can feel that cock twitch, hear every moan when you’re inside me. Come on, let’s go home and I’ll bring you to your knees.”

“No. This isn’t about us in bed. This is everything outside of it. I don’t like how you talk to me, how you treat me, how you touch me,” I said, slapping his hand from my face, “and how you treat everyone in the world as your plaything. I just can’t put up with it anymore.”

That finally set him off, “Oh, you have no idea what I can do.” He snapped his fingers.

I watched as a man in a suit next to us dropped his book. He began to convulse, and I watched in horror. He reverted from his fifties to his late twenties in a moment, smoothing his wrinkles as his hair turned from silver to brown. His skin tightened around his swelling body, as his muscles easily ripped through his shirt and pants. A deep moan escaped his mouth as his clothes reformed themselves into a tank top and gym shorts. As a snap-back hat formed and tightened around his head, I grimaced, knowing that his mind was being assaulted with a new identity. I knew the look on his face well as drool flowed from his open mouth. Then, all at once it stopped. He just picked up his book and kept reading. No one else even seemed to notice what had taken place.

It was a thinly veiled threat and we both knew it. “See? This is the shit I’m talking about. What happens to him now? He had nothing to do with this, you just can’t contain yourself.”

“Oh relax, he’s fine. I didn’t dumb him like I do to you. No one will ever remember anything different. Though I imagine whatever new hires at his firm will be confused why the new boss is a jacked gym bro while everyone else in the office is pushing 40 and wearing suits.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“I can’t! I can’t do this anymore. I don’t ever want to see you again.” I gathered my things to make my exit.

He came round the table, in a far less joking mood, “You’ll regret that,” he grabbed at my groin and cupped my package, “from now on, whenever that gets going, I have a feeling you will be seeing a lot of me” I felt a stirring in my sack. Something had… shifted?

“What did you do?” my shouting had finally drawn the attention of onlookers.

“Good luck, baby. You ever want that resolved, you’ll have to find me.” With that, he turned heel and left.

Now, two years later, he was right. I had seen far too much of him. The water had gone cold. I turned the faucets off and stepped out to dry myself off.

The first time had been a shock. I had given myself time to heal from the relationship, but about two months in I decided to head to a bar. Immediately something was off when I entered. I saw a few old flings, and a friend or two who were surprised to see me there. But it was like when I entered the whole place shifted towards me. Men were buying me drinks and fawning for my attention. The bartender even slipped a few comments in. They all looked smitten with me, trying to get just a little closer. By the end of the night I had some twink sitting in my lap. I decided it was time to blow off some steam. I took him to my place, where he immediately began tearing off my clothes inside the door. I managed to get him back to my bedroom before he had my boxers off. Immediately he buried his nose into my bush. Admittedly I hadn’t been keeping shaved since the breakup, and I guess that was doing it for him. He went to town on my cock. I wasn’t prepared for him to take it in one thrust, but he wasn’t waiting. All I could do was grab his hair and hold on as he worked my cock like a pro. I felt his hair curl beneath my fingers as I held on for the ride, moaning as he pushed all my buttons. He knew just when to pull back to keep me edging, his thick fingers holding on as he devoured my cock. Finally I knew I needed to fuck him. I pulled him off of my cock, but as he stood up and his dazed expression met mine I screamed.

“Fuck baby, where have you been all of my life?” he said.

He was the spitting image of my ex. The hair, the muscle, even that stupid nickname. In shock I pushed him away as he gave me a look of confusion.

“What are you doing here? I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

He looked back at me confused, “What are you talking about? We just met like a few hours ago. You invited me over. Sorry.”

Something about the statement rang true. I only realized later it was because he apologized. My ex would never. “Did he put you up to this? What’s your name?”

“Hey, I’m not sure who you’re talking about, okay? I’m Justin. I was just looking for a good time.”

“Have you seen yourself? You don’t look like the twink I met at the bar.” I retorted

He looked in the mirror, and his face seemed to puzzle for a sec. I knew that look. He was trying to reconcile memories he had. Fake memories. Then he smirked, “Yeah, pretty hot right? I’ve been working out, getting that more twunk look going.”

So he was clueless then. It was weird seeing someone look so much like him, and have a mix of his mannerisms and others. He had certainly made sure his cockiness was implemented. The asshole.

“Look, I’m not sure tonight is going to work out. I need you out of here. Now.” That was a little mean, it wasn’t his fault. But he had to go. I gave him some of my ex’s clothes he had left lying around and pushed him out the door without saying goodnight. It was only next week when I went to the bar that I saw him again. He had seemingly gone back to normal, besides a very distinctive mustache and stubble he was growing now. It didn’t fit his thin, hairless body and it made me chuckle…

*BZZZZZT*

My phone was getting a call from an unknown number. I guess it was time to answer some questions:

-Hey, I found this number in my bag. This the guy from last night?

*Sigh*

-Yeah, it’s me. Are you, uh, feeling better? More… yourself?

-So I’m not crazy! What was that? What happened?

-I am so so so sorry. It’s a long story. Let’s just say my ex is… a looot.

-Well hey, who’s isn’t?

I chuckled

-You’re taking this surprisingly well. Most guys don’t want to look at me after all this.

-So this has happened before?

-Yes. But I promise I didn’t mean to. I must have gotten too drunk last night, and I know that’s not a good excuse. But I’m not sure what to do about it and at this point I’d starting to think I never will

-Woah, woah. Calm down. Would you want someone to come over? To talk to?

I paused.

-No, I think I’ll be fine.

-Please, I want to. I want answers and it seems like you need someone.

-I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Plus, I don’t think I can see you like that.

-I promise. I don’t think I have anything the same.

-Promise?

-Here, look

He did look back to normal. And he was quite cute. I can see why drunk me decided to pick him…

-Still, I’m not sure…

-Nope, it’s decided. I know the address, I’ll be there later tonight around 6. *click*

What had just happened? I think, against all odds, I just got roped into a second date.

God damn it.

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 13

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, slight tension, angst, suggestive, praise, flirting (kinda), cursing

Matts POV

The sun was dipping low, orange and pink hues painted the sky as I stared out the window. The day had been pretty chill now that Emily was gone, I had some space and could just hang out with Chris and Nick. But now, things were about to get a whole lot more interesting. Nate, our friend from Boston, was visiting for the next week or so and had just arrived at our house. It felt like old times again, having the whole gang together.

“Yo, Matt!” Nate’s voice rang out from the living room. “You ready to lose tonight?”

I smirked, walking in to find him and Chris sprawled out on the couch. “Lose? You mean, are you ready to lose? I’ve been working on my swing, man.”

Nate laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that. My game’s been on point lately.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll put 100 bucks on it.” I said, rolling my eyes and grabbing my phone off the counter. “Where’s Nick?”

“He’s in his room” Chris said. “Probably trying to pick out an outfit like it’s some kind of fashion show.”

I chuckled. “Well, he better hurry up. We’re supposed to leave in like ten minutes.”

As if on cue, Nick walked down the stairs into the room, looking way too casual for someone who’d spent an extra ten minutes getting ready.

“Speaking of the devil” I said, crossing my arms with a grin, “You finally done making yourself pretty?”

Nick laughed it off. “I was just making sure my plus one could come.”

“Plus one?” I raised an eyebrow, not sure what he meant.

“Yeah?” Nick said, glancing around the room at all of us. “I invited Y/n to come with us.”

I felt my grin fade a bit, replaced by surprise. I hadn’t seen that coming. Not that I had a problem with Y/n coming along, but with everything that had gone down with Emily.. things were complicated, especially after last time.

I shot Nick a look, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, Emily wasn’t exactly happy about us hanging out.”

Nick shrugged, looking calm and collected. “If I remember correctly, she said she didn’t want you two hanging out alone. We’re all going, right? It’s not like it’s just you and Y/n. There’ll be six of us total.”

I thought about that for a second, replaying Emily’s words in my head. Nick wasn’t wrong. Emily’s issue was with me and Y/n spending time together one on one, not in a group. And honestly, Y/n was Nick’s friend too. We couldn’t just exclude her because of Emily’s feelings.

Nick gave me that knowing look, a half smile tugging at his lips. “Come on. Don’t overthink it. It’s just Top Golf.”

I sighed, feeling some of the tension slip away as I realized Nick had a point. There was no reason to blow this out of proportion. It was just a fun night out with friends.

“Alright, fine..” I said, clapping Nick on the shoulder. “But you’re dealing with Emily if she freaks out.”

Nick chuckled. “Deal. I told her we’ll pick her up on the way.”

The doorbell rang then, echoing through the house.

“That’ll be Madi” Chris said, getting up to answer it.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the last bit of unease. I grabbed my keys off the counter and turned back to the guys. “Alright, let’s do this. Nate, I hope you’re ready to lose your money tonight.”

Nate laughed, his confidence unwavering. “You wish.”

We all grabbed our stuff and headed out the door, the excitement for the night starting to build. As I locked up, I couldn’t help but wonder how the evening was going to play out. With Y/n along for the ride, things were bound to go one of two ways, to be very awkward or very interesting.

But as I climbed into the car with my friends, I pushed those thoughts aside. Tonight was about having fun. Whatever happened, I'd deal with it together. Just like I always did.

Y/n POV

I blinked at the message, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. I hadn’t been expecting an invitation tonight. Before I could overthink it, I typed back a quick reply:

Me: Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.

His response was immediate.

Nick 💜 : Of course, you’re not intruding! Nate’s visiting from Boston, and Madi’s coming too. It’ll be a good time.

Seeing that Nate and Madi would be there made me feel a little more at ease. It wasn’t just going to be me and the guys, so there wouldn’t be any weirdness or pressure. Still, the thought of seeing Matt again had my heart racing. I wasn’t sure how it would feel being around him tonight.

Me: Okay, sounds fun!

Nick 💜: Great! We’ll swing by and pick you up in about 30. See you soon!

I set my phone down, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. This was just a casual night out with friends, no big deal. But the potential thought that I’d see Matt again had my mind racing with thoughts I couldn’t quite push away. Shaking my head, I decided to focus on getting ready instead of overthinking.

I pulled open my closet and sifted through my clothes, trying to find something that was cute but casual enough for Top Golf. I settled on a cropped tank top with a flannel shirt layered over it. I paired it with my favorite jeans and some comfy sneakers. After giving myself a look over in the mirror, I decided to put a little extra effort into my hair and makeup. Maybe it was silly, but I wanted to feel confident tonight.

I was just finishing up when my phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Nick letting me know they were outside. I grabbed my bag, gave my reflection a quick nod of approval, and headed out the door. The nervous energy in my chest made me feel ridiculous, but I couldn’t shake it.

As I walked outside, I spotted a familiar car waiting at the curb. Matt’s car. My breath hitched for a moment. I could see Matt in the driver’s seat, Chris up front with him. I walked up to the car trying to not make direct eye contact with anyone. Nick slid open the back door and flashed me a welcoming grin.

“Hey girl! Hop in!” he said, scooting over to make room for me.

I climbed into the car, trying to keep my cool as I greeted everyone. “Hey guys!”

Matt glanced back at me through the rearview mirror, his expression softening as our eyes met. No words were exchanged, we just gave each other a half smile, the kind that made time feel like it slowed down time. I returned the smile, feeling a warmth in my chest that made me even more nervous.

“Hey, I’m Madi” said the girl sitting in the third row, offering me a friendly wave.

“And I’m Nate” added the guy next to her, a tall guy with a laid back vibe. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too!” I said, glad to finally meet the people I’d heard about from Nick.

The drive to Top Golf was surprisingly quick. Everyone was in high spirits, chatting and laughing, and I found myself relaxing as the conversation flowed easily. We unloaded from the car once we arrived, and Matt, being the gentleman he was, swung open the door on my side. Our eyes met again as I stepped out, and we exchanged another one of those small, lingering smiles.

“Thanks” I said softly, feeling a flutter in my stomach.

“No problem” Matt replied, his voice low and easygoing. The moment was brief, but it left me feeling strangely content.

As we all walked into the building, I found myself sticking close to Nick, who was happily chatting about how excited he was to see Nate again, and Matt stood on the other side of me, silent. “I’ve never done this before” I admitted to him as we waited at the reception desk. “I’m looking forward to seeing what it’s all about.”

Nick gave me a reassuring grin. “You’ll love it. It’s a good time, especially with this crew.”

We got our bay assignment from the receptionist and made our way up to the second floor. The place was buzzing with energy, people laughing, music playing, and the satisfying whack of golf balls being hit. We reached our booth, which had a great view of the range, and Matt immediately took charge of inputting all of our names into the machine.

I stood back, taking it all in. The setup was way cooler than I’d imagined, with all these targets spread out across the field in different colors. “So, what’s the deal with all the rings out there?” I asked out loud, walking past Matt to get closer to the yellow line on the ground to get a better look.

Matt joined me, leaning in slightly as he explained. “Each ring gives you a different amount of points. The farther away it is and the closer you get to the centre, the more points you score.”

I turned to him, genuinely surprised. “Wait, so there’s actually an aim to this? All this time I thought you were just hitting golf balls as stress relief.”

Matt let out a laugh, the sound making me smile. “Yeah, it’s a little more than that. But it’s fun either way.”

Chris was up first, so Matt and I moved out of his way, still chatting. He pointed out the different clubs sitting in the box beside us.

“So, these are your options” he said, picking up a golf club that was easily as tall as me. “This one’s a driver. Good for getting the ball as far out as possible.”

I eyed the club, tilting my head. “That thing’s huge. I don’t think I can even hold that properly. You’re sure I won’t just end up swinging and missing completely?”

Matt grinned, the playful glint in his eyes making me relax a little more. “It’s all in the technique. But if you think it’s too much, there are shorter ones too.” He handed me a smaller club, our fingers brushing briefly. “This one might be more your speed.”

I took the club, testing the weight of it in my hands. “Okay, this feels better. I can actually manage this one.”

“Good choice.” Matt said, his tone teasing as he picked up another club for himself. “But remember, it’s not just about the length. It’s how you use it.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing at his playful manner. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind, golf pro.” I blushed slightly. Was he flirting with me? No he didn’t mean it like that..

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made it impossible not to smile back. “I’ll show you some tips when it’s your turn.”

“Thanks, I’ll need them!” I admitted, feeling more comfortable around him than I had all night.

We all watched as Chris took his first swing, sending the ball flying towards one of the targets. Everyone cheered, and I found myself getting more excited to take my turn.

As I stood there with Matt, bantering back and forth about the clubs, I realized that maybe tonight wasn’t going to be as nerve wrecking as I’d thought. We were just a group of friends having fun, and Matt’s easygoing nature was making it hard to feel anything but relaxed. He was one of those people I instantly felt comfortable around.

When I looked up at the screen to check whose turn it was, I noticed something that made my heart skip a beat. Instead of my full name, the screen showed my nickname, one that only my closest friends used. My face flushed as I realized Matt must have been the one who put it in like that. It was a small gesture, but it made me feel warm inside.

Feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves, I stepped up to the mark and placed the golf ball on the tee. I took a deep breath, trying to channel the confidence Matt had given me earlier, and swung the club. 

But instead of sailing out into the field, the ball shot straight into the netting below me. I froze in place, wide eyed and embarrassed as laughter erupted behind me. Turning around, I caught their amused faces and couldn’t help but laugh at myself too.

“You’re hitting the ball like it’s mini golf!” Matt called out, his voice full of laughter. His teasing was light hearted, and I could tell he wasn’t trying to make me feel bad.

“I’m scared to swing it properly!” I confessed, still laughing as I turned back to face him.

Matt shook his head, still chuckling as he made his way over to me. “Here, let me help you.”

My heart skipped again as he came closer, standing directly behind me. The next thing I knew, Matt was wrapping his arms around mine, placing his hands on top of mine on the club. His touch was gentle but firm, guiding me into the right position. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and suddenly, we were practically spooning while standing up. My heart raced in my chest, beating so loud I was sure he could hear it.

“Just relax” Matt said softly, his voice close to my ear. We swung the club back together, and in one smooth motion, he guided the swing, sending the ball flying down to the bottom of the field. I watched it soar, feeling a rush of excitement at how far it went.

“Do you feel better about it now?” Matt asked, his voice still low, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.

“Yeah, it’s a little less scary now” I admitted, smiling up at him as he stepped back.

With my newfound confidence, I picked up another golf ball and placed it on the tee. Matt walked back to his seat, and I focused on the ball, trying to replicate what Matt had shown me. I took the same stance, swung the club the same way, and to my amazement, the ball flew straight to the furthest ring.

Everyone cheered in unison, and I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “That’s the girl!” I heard Matt yell from behind me, his voice full of encouragement. My cheeks flushed at his praise, but I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

I took my last two turns, each time sending the ball further than the last. Every time I hit a good shot, the group cheered, and Matt’s voice always seemed to stand out above the rest. After my final shot, I put the club back in its slot and turned around to see Matt standing there with a big grin. He held up both his hands, and I gave him a double high five, our palms smacking together in a satisfying way.

We both sat down, still buzzing from the game. Matt and I started chatting, the conversation flowing easily between us. It felt good, natural, like we’d been friends forever. Before I knew it, the hour was up, and the game was over.

Nate won by a country mile, with Chris and Matt tying for second. I won’t mention where the rest of us ended up, but let’s just say it was clear who the pros were in this group.

‘Time to cough that 100 bucks up Matt.’ Nate teased.

As we all started gathering our things, Chris groaned. “Ugh, I’m not ready to go home yet. Can we do something else?”

“We could all go for a walk on the beach?” Nate suggested, his tone casual, but the idea sounded perfect to me.

Nick lit up at the suggestion. “Fucking brilliant idea, Nate.”

Matt looked over at me, almost as if he was checking to see if I’d be up for it. Our eyes met, and I gave him a reassuring smile. “The beach sounds nice. I love the beach at night.”

With that, the plan was set. We all piled back into Matt’s car, the mood even more relaxed and happy than before. I slid into the back seat next to Nick again, feeling the cool night air on my face as we drove toward the beach.

It had been a fun night so far, but something told me that the best part was still to come.

a/n : i wasn't going to post this until sunday but here you goooooo (but now you have to wait until sunday for the next part lol)

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

Family Gathering with Fernando Alonso

❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃

day 05: family gathering — fernando alonso x reader

note: anticipated this one because yes i adored the concept (i absolutely do not fantasize about introducing nando as my bf to my family like who would ever do that !!)

fluffcember masterlist | main masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You and Fernando walked hand in hand to your old house’s door. The time eventually came: Christmas, the day you’ll be finally introducing your fiancée to your family.

You couldn’t help spending weeks being worried about it. Fernando was the best man you’ve ever met, but your age difference was very clear, and you feared your parents’ judgment. You procrastinated as long as you could, but they insisted to invite the two of you to celebrate together and you knew you couldn’t say no anymore.

Fernando sensed your worries by the squeeze of your hand in his. “Querida, don’t be anxious. I’m sure we’ll spend a wonderful day.” His hazel eyes, full of endearment, found yours.

His words reassured you just enough to make you woman up and rang the doorbell.

Your sister opened the door. She greeted you and let you in, but you didn’t miss her pupils widening imperceptibly when they lay on your new boyfriend. When he walked past her to get in, she turned to you and winked. “Well done sis.” She mouthed in your direction, careful not to be seen by Fernando.

You smirked, amused by her reaction.

In the living room, your parents were chatting while your brother was playing a videogame. They all turned around when you walked in. “Hello.”

“Here’s the new couple!” Your mom exclaimed, and wrapped you in a hug. “We missed you, Y/N.” The same did your dad.

Your mom gaze shifted on Fernando. He extended his hand. “I’m Fernando, a pleasure to meet you.”

Her expression was illegible. She shook his hand. “Hello Fernando, nice to meet you too. It’s so good to know our daughter finally found someone who can put up with her attitude.”

You blushed a little, shaking your head in embarrassment.

“Yeah, enough to keep up with mine.” He smiled in your direction. Could you ever have wished for a better boyfriend?

Your dad’s face betrayed his thoughts, but he too shook firmly his hand without a second thought. “Welcome in the family.” You couldn’t blame him, seeing his daughter with an older man must be a lot.

“Wait– that’s Fernando Alonso!” The voice of your brother interrupted the introductions. He jumped over the couch and reached you. “Oh my god, you’re in a relationship with a Formula 1 World Champion!” Your parents looked confused, then seemed to realize that just now. “How much do you make a year?”

“Y/B/N!” Scolded him your mom, casting him a bad look. “That’s not a question to ask!”

Fernando laughed. “Don’t worry.” He looked at the tv and noticed his videogame. “Are you playing Gran Turismo?”

“Yeah, but I’m stuck at this level.”

“Want a help?”

Your brother’s smile now was larger than ever. “Please!”

And that’s how your boyfriend, your dad and your brother all ran to the couch.

Your mon chuckled at the sight. “Alright then, we’re going to help grandma in the kitchen, if you boys don’t mind.”

Lunch was almost ready, you and your mom were finishing preparing the appetisers. “So… do you love him?”

The question took you aback. “I…” You thought about Fernando’s laugh, about the his gentleness, about the way he made you feel. Your lips curved in a dreamy smile. “Yes, I do.”

“And does he love you?”

Does he love me?

In your mind flashed suddenly all the times he had to run away for work during the week, and about the red rose he left in your house every time, to make you feel his presence, even in his absence. Every single time. And as soon as he was back, he was at your door, with a bouquet of roses, ready to take you out on a date. “He does.”

Your mother seemed satisfied with the answer. “Perfect. That’s all that matters.” She caressed your hair and placed a kiss on your head. “He looks like a nice guy.” She took the plate with the appetisers and headed to the dining room, before turning to you one last time. “And very handsome indeed.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “Mom!”

Lunch went wonderfully, to your surprise. You had fun, telling stories and making jokes (which some were about you, of course). Your grandma kept saying how charming Fernando was and how lucky he was to meet a girl like you, making you awkwardly flush from time to time. Even your dad was getting along well with him.

When you and Fernando left, driving back home, he couldn’t stop talking about how cool your family was.

“I’m so happy everything went well.” You said, landing a hand on his thigh and affectionately smiling at him.

“Told you, querida. How could they not like me?”

You chuckled. “Right.” You paused, thoughtful. “This is probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” Because of you, you implied. “Thank you, Nando.”

You reached a red light. He turned towards you. “No, thank to you.” He closed the distance between the two of you and kissed you deeply. Your hand on his thigh stroked it slowly.

He broke the kiss when the traffic light turned green. “You know, I loved your parents’ house, but right now I really want to go back to ours.”

[dudeshusband]

Title: I never had no regrets

Ship: Mike x Dude (old edition), Mike & Colorado Ryan

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Major character death, religious themes

Description: Mike and Dude's last day together.

Dude groaned softly as he eased himself into his chair on the front porch. Dude rubbed his face and sighed. Mike came out of the house with two cups of coffee and the newspaper. Dude took the newspaper appreciatively and opened it. Mike sat down next to Dude silently. It was a warm morning, and they were dressed in their lightest patterned shirts. Dude still left his partially unbuttoned as he had in his youth. 

July 16th, 1914. The little town hadn’t had its own newspaper when Dude came into it about 50 years ago. All the news was word of mouth then. The town was hardly much bigger now than it had been in 1860 but there were cars, and a pharmacy with a soda fountain had finally made its way over. Dude could drive a car now but he didn’t like to. Unfortunately, it was harder getting on horses now than it had been even 5 years ago. It was harder getting around at all. 

The newspaper talked about how the school that had been built only 20 years ago was getting on. There was a war brewing in Europe. Woodrow Wilson was doing this and that for domestic policy. 

“Anything good?” Mike asked him. 

“The school’s doin’ well.”  

Mike shook their head. “How this damn town lasted almost 30 years without a school, I’ll never know. You’d think they wanted a bunch of uneducated hicks.”

Dude frowned at them. 

“I don’t mean you, Dude. You weren’t born here.” 

“I’m an uneducated Texan hick, anyhow.” 

“Well, you can read that newspaper,” Mike tried with some levity. 

Dude only frowned more. 

Mike shook their head. “Old age has killed your sense of humor.” 

He laughed. “All these years, and you still ain’t funny.” 

Mike feigned offense, but conceded, “One of us has to be the grumpy old man.” 

Dude smiled. A couple of his teeth had fallen out and his lips were worn. He still had a pretty smile. Mike smiled back at him. They took one of his wrinkled hands in theirs. They frowned at a bruise on it. 

“You better start being more careful Dude, you aren’t a young man anymore-” 

Dude waved his hand. “Ah, you still worry too much. No man ever died of a bruise.” 

“Well, if you fall-”  

“Fall?! Who’s fallin’? Not me, that’s for damn sure,” Dude interrupted in indignation. 

“You sound more like Chance every year.” 

Mike and Dude looked vaguely in the direction of the jail, as if Chance could still be there. Dude pouted. “Am I really a hardass?” 

“No, baby, but you’ve gotten especially stubborn and prideful.” 

He sighed. “Yeah, I know. Gettin’ old…it ain’t a cakewalk.” 

Mike squeezed his hand. “I’m here for you, always.” 

Dude got a very serious look on his face. “I know. I only wish I could be there for you. My time’s coming, honey.” 

Mike tilted their head. They tried to laugh. “You say that like you’re dying tomorrow.” 

“I’m serious. I feel Heaven callin’.” 

“But you’re sure it’s Heaven?” 

“At night, I hear the angels.” 

“Baby, you’re just dreaming. Just dreaming. Come on, let’s go for a walk in town, huh?”  

Dude grabbed his old worn hat and the pair walked into town. It was still small, but it had acquired more streets in the past two decades. What had once been a single street, turned into 6 streets. Mike and Dude walked past the Wells Fargo that was still in the same spot next to the new pharmacy. 

Dude stopped. “We should get two ice cream sodas.” 

They frowned. “This early in the morning? Are you sure that’s good for-”  

“Mike, I’m 75 years old. I know what’s good for me.” 

“Oh, I know. I just care about you.” 

Dude kissed their hand and they walked inside the pharmacy and came up to the counter. “Two coca-colas with chocolate ice cream, please.” 

“That’ll be 10 cents,” said the man behind the counter. Dude dropped a dime on the counter. 

Dude sat down carefully. “You know, I remember the first time I had a coca-cola.” 

Mike laughed. “So do I. Did it still have cocaine in it then?” 

Dude furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t know. When did they take it out?” 

“Ohhh, about 10 years ago.” 

“Yeah, it probably did,” Dude said. “What a fool thing to drink.” 

They both laughed. 

The man behind the counter put down their ice cream sodas and they thanked him. They had their beverages and said little else. 

Dude rolled himself a cigarette as they exited the pharmacy. 

“They come pre-rolled now, Dude,” Mike teased. 

“I like to roll ‘em myself.”  

He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit his cigarette. 

“You used to use matches,” Mike said reminiscently. 

He shrugged. “It’s nice not to have to strike a match against something.” 

Mike blushed for the first time in a long time. “You know, I always thought you were pretty when you smoked.” 

Dude blew smoke out of the side of his mouth and asked amusedly, “Yeah?” 

“Still do.” 

Mike and Dude walked home. 

Later on that evening, Mike lit the stove to reheat some soup they’d made yesterday. Dude sat at the table, watching. 

“Honey, could you…” Dude stopped himself. “How ‘bout you fry up that good cut of pork belly in the icebox for me? And make me a nice glass of sweet tea, huh?” 

Mike turned around. “I thought the pork belly was for when Colorado and his wife and kids come over on Saturday?” 

Dude’s eyes were distant. “Mike, I ain’t gonna be here Saturday.” 

Mike’s heart felt like it had been thrown into the bottom of the ocean. They bit their lip then released it. They told him sharply, “Dude, that is not funny.” 

“I’m not bein’ funny. Mike, I’m not making it to Saturday.” 

His mouth was drawn into a straight line. He looked 10 years older. 

Mike lowered the flame on the stove and sniffed. “Are you sick? Was it the ice cream soda? Should I send for the doctor?” 

Dude shook his head. “I’m fine. I don’t need no doctor.” 

Mike looked at him for a long time. “Are you sure about the pork belly?” 

Dude nodded. “Fry it up for me…with a couple of mashed potatoes and…do we still have the green beans?”  

Mike nodded. “Alright. I’ll heat up this soup for me.” 

Mike made Dude’s dinner exactly how he asked for it, and sat down with him to eat. 

Dude always insisted on saying grace before meals, so the pair did so. 

“When you pray tonight, could you ask God to take away whatever feeling you’re having?” Mike asked. They almost considered praying themselves. Please let God listen for once. 

Dude gave them a small smile. “I will. But, I want you to know something. I never was any damn good with words. Mike, these past 34 years have been the best of my life. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. If I could do it all over, I’d do it all the same so I always got to you. I wouldn’t trade a minute of it. I don’t regret not having kids with you, and when I go, don’t you think I ever did. I know how your mind is. Don’t go dwellin’ on any bad moment we had. I’m not mad at you. You’re the best damn husband a fella could have. I’m going out of this world grateful for you, you understand?” 

Mike wiped their eyes. “I understand.” 

Dude shoveled down his dinner like a starving man. 

“Hungry?” Mike teased. 

“Always for your cookin’, honey.” 

Mike shook their head fondly. “You did get soft. You old sap.”

Dude grinned. “I was always soft on you.” 

Mike reached out to stroke Dude’s face. “You better be here Saturday, Dude.”  

“I’ll try, honey. I will.” 

When the pair went to bed that night, Dude was insistent on sleeping naked as they did more often when they were younger. Mike didn’t mind Dude’s aged body. They were in love with every wrinkle, bruise, and sag.  He retained some of his tan, though his days in the sun were shorter. He’d put on a bit of weight, but Mike loved that all the more. He still smelled like coffee and tobacco. Dude took a deep sniff of Mike’s hair. 

“Always fruity. Used to be cucumber. Now more peachy.” 

“You’re so handsome, you know that?” Mike whispered. 

“As handsome as I used to be?” 

Mike hugged Dude closer. “More handsome.” 

“You’re lyin’, but I love you.” 

“I love you too.”  

Mike woke up slowly that morning with Dude still pressed close to them. They felt Dude’s thinning hair and sighed. As their hand fell onto his neck, their heart stopped dead in their chest. He was stone cold. Mike kept their eyes closed as they pushed themselves away. Their heart pounded in their chest. They almost tumbled off their bed, but were able to steady themselves. They opened their eyes slowly, to their husband still on the bed. He could almost have just been asleep, except his skin had become a strange shade of grey. They reached out slowly and felt his cheek. Cold. They knelt down and kissed him lightly on the forehead. 

“Dude, I should have made a big speech to you too. You knew I loved you. I know you did. I don’t want to go on without you. But I will baby, I will. I guess I’m glad I knew…or had an idea. I hope you were always right and you’re in Heaven. Having breakfast with the angels. You’d fit right in. You are my angel. Watch me carefully, huh?” 

For a long while, Mike didn’t move. They kneeled in front of the long gone Dude and caressed him. They held back tears. After some long amount of time that could have been an hour or two, they managed to stand. Their knees groaned on the way up. They grabbed their robe from the closet and tied it around themselves. They neglected putting on any shoes. 

Mike walked out of their house into the Friday morning air. The warmth of the morning was an insult to how dead and cold Mike felt. They managed to get to Colorado’s farm. He had a good deal more land than Mike and Dude had ever acquired. With his 6 children, he needed it a lot more. They stumbled across the pathway past Colorado’s group of cows. They chuckled, remembering their sole cow back at the ranch. What a meager life they had lived. 

Mike was greeted by Colorado’s youngest, Abilene. She had long brown hair, and favored her father. She was as girlish cute as he had once been boyish cute. She smiled. 

“Why, good mornin’,” she drawled. “I thought me’n Pa ‘n Ma weren’t coming over ‘til tomorrow?” 

Mike was grave. “I need to talk to your father.” 

Abilene frowned then hurried inside. Colorado soon replaced her in the doorway. His brown hair was speckled with gray, and his boyish smile had flattened into a handsome, but aged grin. 

“Hey, Mike. What can I do for you?”  he asked. 

“Dude’s dead, Colorado.” 

His grin fell off his face. He laid a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “When?” 

Mike’s resolve broke, and they cried. “Last night I think. I woke up this morning and oh, God.” 

He pulled them into a hug. “It’s gonna be alright. You can stay here with me and Jennetta for a while, until we get the ranch straightened out.” 

Mike shook their head. “No, it’s my ranch. I’m not selling. Dude and I built it together. It goes when I go and not a second before.” 

“Did Dude write out a will?” 

Mike shrugged. “I don’t know. All we have is the ranch, a car, and some livestock. And, who’s he going to leave it to if not me?” 

“Where’d he want to be buried?”  

Mike paused. “On the ranch.” 

“Alright. I’ll go talk to the coroner about a death certificate, and we’ll see about a coffin and a headstone.” 

Mike nodded solemnly. “Thank you.” 

Colorado invited Mike inside to sit down at the coffee table while Colorado went out to set up Dude’s final proceedings. Jennetta made Mike a fresh cup of coffee. 

“Sugar or no?” she asked. 

“All the sugar you have.” 

She laughed. She put a few teaspoons of sugar in Mike’s coffee along with a little milk. “You know, Abilene is getting married next month.”  

“That boy, uh, Tommy?” 

“Thomas, yes.” 

“Well, congratulations,” Mike said to Abilene, who had just come back into the room. “One person loses a husband, another gains one. The world goes around.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Abilene. 

Mike stared into their coffee cup. “So am I. It’s so stupid but I thought somehow I would go first.” 

“That’s not stupid,” Jennetta disagreed. “I hope the same thing about my Colorado sometimes.” 

They laughed. “You’re only a year younger than Colorado.” 

She feigned a smile. “Yeah…Mike…Dude’s in Heaven waiting for you.”  

Mike frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t know about all that God stuff. I know Dude believed, and you and Colorado do. Hell, almost everyone in this little town does.” 

“You could come to church with us on Sunday. Come talk to God in his own house, he’ll listen.” 

“I appreciate that,” Mike said. “I just don’t feel quite comfortable in a church.” 

“Isn’t that where Dude’s funeral service is going to be?” 

Mike pondered this. “Yeah, if he wrote a will…yeah. Death’s harder for the living. I have to give him a good celebration. I have to make a pie, and a good roast, and all of Dude’s favorites. I couldn’t let him down…especially if he’s up there watching.” 

“Mike, everyone knows how much you adored him. No one in this whole town is going to think you didn’t if you let yourself grieve. Don’t worry about the service or the party. Tell me Dude’s favorites. We’ll handle everything. You don’t even have to make a speech if you’re not up to it.” 

Mike shook their head. “I’ll allow everything else but I have to make a speech. I have to properly wish my husband goodbye. Don’t take that from me.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“We have to bury him soon…don’t we?” Mike asked quietly. 

“Next couple of days would be best. A wake tomorrow, maybe. Closed casket the second day with a service and a communion if you wanna be Catholic about it.” 

Mike tapped their fingers on the table. “I hope I go soon.”  

“You don’t mean that.” 

“No. I don’t. Dude wouldn’t want me to think that way…but I can’t help it. He’s not here, and…it’s only been a few hours. It’s already hard. I don’t know if I could live another twenty years without him.” 

Jennetta looked at Mike sympathetically. The rest of the morning was in dead silence. 

On the day of the funeral, Dude looked as beautiful in his casket as a dead person could. Mike knew he wasn’t sleeping, but if they ignored the color and temperature he was, they could almost pretend. Mike had him dressed in one of his blue shirts, buttoned low; his worn brown cowboy hat, a pair of tight pants, and shoes. No spurs. His gunbelt and guns would be buried with him later. Mike held his black ascot in their hands, thinking. Was he really Dude without it? Could Mike bear to part with it? Mike kissed the ascot, and gently maneuvered his head to wrap it around his neck. Their Dude. 

“We found the will,” Colorado said as he came up behind them. 

“And?” 

“‘I leave everything to my darling spouse, Mike’,” He quoted. “You were right about the burial. Right on the ranch.” 

My darling spouse. Oh, Dude. 

“Anything else?”  

“You did right by him, Mike,” he reassured. “He’d be happy with all of it.” 

Mike sniffed. “I hope so.” 

Mike sat down, and a service was started. They tuned it all out, trying not to weep. The next thing Mike knew, the casket was closed and they were carrying it back to the ranch. Mike did all they could not to keep touching the casket, as if comforting their dearly departed husband. The walk to the grave that had been dug during the service was the longest walk of Mike’s life. It had been dug by a man who had been an apprentice of the previous mortician, Burt, and one of Colorado’s sons. Mike almost wanted to fall into it themselves. 

The casket was lowered slowly into the hole as the priest said some final words. With Chance and Stumpy gone, Mike, Colorado, and Feathers (who had been phoned quickly enough to drive over) were the only ones to make speeches. 

Feathers’ speech went: “Dude was a wonderful man, a great deputy, sheriff, and friend. He made it through hardships in his life, some of which we all witnessed. He was always considerate of others. He would be the first to put his life on the line to defend this town, even if the town wouldn’t return the favor. He was brave, loyal, and charming. I’m glad to have known him.” 

Then Colorado’s: “When I came into town all those years ago, I didn’t expect to lose my boss, Pat Wheeler, and gain so many great friends. I was always a smartass to Dude and Chance, and they were like brothers to me. We made a damn good team. Dude was the man who avenged Wheeler, and earned my respect. I had so many laughs with him, and his partner, Mike. Until I found my Jennetta, we spent many wonderful Thanksgivings and Christmases together with the gang. I’m thankful for all of it.” 

And finally Mike: “My husband was the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was loyal, kind, funny, and resilient. He was also sensitive, stubborn, and prideful. He was so caught up in defending his manhood sometimes. I know Dude wanted children, and I appreciate that he never resented me for not having any. He was always accommodating to me. Until I found Dude, I thought I was unlovable. I thought I would die alone. Physically, I will, but mentally, I will know that I was loved for the best 34 years of my life. Dude’s heart is still with mine, even if his body isn’t. I’m beyond grateful for every moment I got to care for him. He was the most beautiful and wonderful man I have ever met. I will always adore him. With all my heart, I hope to be reunited with him when I pass, so we can spend eternity together. I owe everything to my one and only, my husband, my lover, my best friend, and my soulmate. I never want to live in a world where I didn’t meet you. Sleep well, I’ll be there soon.” 

Mike teared up and ran into their house to sob their heart out. Gone. Forever. They were all alone in the world. Not alone. There was Colorado and his family. Feathers. The town. None of them could ever replace Dude. No one could ever replace Dude. 

Colorado found them after everyone else had gone home. 

“D’ya wanna see the epigraph?” he asked softly. 

Mike nodded and he helped them stand. He led them outside to where Dude’s grave was freshly covered with dirt. The sun was getting low in the sky but Mike could still make the words out. 

It was Dude’s name, his years lived (1839-1914), and the words: Beloved husband, friend, and sheriff. 

Mike smiled. “It’s beautiful, Colorado. Thank you.” 

“If you ever need anything, you let me know, alright?” 

“I will. Thank you for everything.” 

Colorado walked home. Mike knelt at Dude’s grave and talked for a long while. They went to bed that night and dreamed of Dude.

[roosterforme]

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You do your best not to let Phoebe and Jeff derail how perfect your weekend with Bradley has been. After dinner, the two of you start asking what comes next, and you take him to a spot on campus he has dreamed about but never seen before.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swears, and angst

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

You should have known the two of them would be here to ruin your perfect night with Bradley. Your perfect weekend, really. But it was nearly impossible for you to think back on your time with Bradley ten years ago without Jeff and Phoebe popping up.

You tilted your face to look up at Bradley again, but his eyes were still focused across the room. "It's okay, Beer Boy. Let's get a drink."

Bradley turned toward you and nodded, and you ordered two beers from the bartender and handed him one. He laced his fingers through yours and let you guide him back toward the table where you had set down your bag. 

"Sorry. I just haven't seen or talked to either of them since I left for Rhode Island. Crazy."

"I wish we didn't have to see them now, either," you said, glancing over to their table again. You kissed Bradley's lips and whispered, "I will physically fight Phoebe if she tries to touch you."

Bradley laughed at that, and you smiled too. "You always were a little scrappy," he said. "But I don't think either of them could hurt me now, even if they wanted to. Which I certainly hope they don't."

"They better not."

You couldn't stop stealing glances at them though. Jeff looked exhausted, and he was losing his hair. Phoebe still looked pretty enough, you supposed, but she appeared to be with her husband who was plainly ignoring her and staring at his phone. And it looked like her hair was brittle and crispy from dying it several shades lighter than it used to be. 

Both of them looked miserable. Maybe they should have married each other. 

"Bradshaw!" came a booming voice, and you watched Bradley stand and accept a hug from Tyson.

"Hey, man. It's been awhile," Bradley said as you stood up as well. "Is your wife here?" 

You watched Tyson's eyes grow to the size of saucers, and Bradley casually reached for your hand. 

"No," Tyson said, still looking at you in surprise. "She's pregnant again and not feeling well. Decided not to come at the last minute." He smiled softly at you before glaring at Bradley. "Hey, why didn't you tell me you two were together again?"

Bradley cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, we're not-"

"It's recent," you blurted out, earning a surprised look from Bradley. "It's good to see you, Ty."

"Yeah.... damn. This is such a flashback!" he said. "Bradley moped for months after you dumped him. But I guess you know all about that now."

You squeezed Bradley's hand tighter, but he was still looking at you like he wasn't sure what was going on.

"I can assure you that I also moped for months," you told Tyson, letting out a shaky breath. "You guys chat, I see someone else I know."

There was in fact nobody else that you recognized, but you needed a moment to yourself. Why did you insinuate that you and Bradley were together again? You weren't together. If he wanted you in that way, he would have told you where he lived. He'd had a full day to do so. And now he was flying home in the morning. 

You felt like leaving before you could start crying. You were going to ruin what was left of your time with him if you couldn't accept this for what it was: one perfect reunion weekend with your first love.

"I thought that was you."

You spun around and almost bumped into Jeff. He was staring at your cleavage as you moved your beer bottle in front of yourself to try to block his view. 

"Hi," you managed to say, but you couldn't bring yourself to smile like he was.

"You look great."

Since the same could not be said about him, you just kind of shrugged. "Thanks."

"I can't believe you're still with Bradshaw."

You took a deep breath. "He's wonderful," you managed to say. "What are you doing these days?"

"Oh, selling used cars," he mumbled. "You?"

Your eyebrows shot up. He had the same math undergraduate degree as you. "I work here. Teaching. Mostly computational physics and linear algebra, but I have a calculus lecture as well."

"Wow," he said, looking both annoyed and impressed. 

"Yeah. Looking at some other schools for tenure positions for the fall."

"Must be nice," he mumbled.

You nodded and looked him square in the eyes. "I worked really hard."

When you noticed Jeff's eyes looking over your shoulder, you felt a warm hand on your lower back. 

"Hey, Sugar," Bradley whispered in your ear, and you looked up at him over your shoulder.

"Hi, Beer Boy," you whispered back, and without a single glance in Jeff's direction, Bradley guided you back to your table, leaving Jeff gaping at the two of you.

"You okay?" he asked, pulling out your chair as dinner was about to be served.

"Of course. You didn't want to talk to your old buddy Jeff?"

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Fuck no. Figured you didn't really want to either." 

You laughed and took his hand as he sat down. "You figured right."

Bradley raised your fingers to his lips and kissed them before reaching for the leg of your chair and pulling you closer to him. When your graduating class president and the dean of admission gave their speeches, Bradley wrapped his arm around you, and your head came to rest against his shoulder. Of course his fingers found your tattoo, blindly tracing along your skin there. 

Your eyes found his when he smiled down at you. His impossibly handsome face and his warm, brown eyes and his perfect lips. How had you managed to go ten years without him? You reached up, stroking his mustache with your thumb until he was almost laughing. 

You whispered, "Missed you," and then he was no longer smiling. He was looking at you intently when suddenly everyone was applauding for the finished speeches, and the waitstaff started rushing around with plates of salad. 

So you ate your dinner with your thigh pressed up against Bradley's, sharing food off of each other's plates. You laughed at the throwback music the band was playing, and Bradley eventually went to get you both more beer. 

Everything was comfortable in a way that you didn't know you were craving until you were experiencing it. 

"Do you want to dance?" Bradley asked you as the band started up again and several people made their way to the center of the room. 

"Yes," you replied, and he pulled you to your feet. He guided your arm over his shoulder with a smile and wrapped his hands around your waist. You traced his faded scars with your fingers while he sang along to the song. 

"You have the best singing voice," you told him, your smile growing wide. "I forgot just how much I loved listening to it."

"Think they know any Grateful Dead?" he asked. "That was my favorite to sing to you."

"Remember when you made me watch like eighty four hours of their concert footage?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and pulled you fully against him. "It was only like a fifteen hour DVD, Sugar. And we didn't even make it all the way through."

You licked your lips. "You're right. We found a different way to occupy our time."

Bradley's face was earnest and open, but there was still a smile dancing along his lips. "We sure did that a lot, huh?" 

You nodded and leaned up to kiss him before you said, "We've been doing it a lot since yesterday, too. This is one hell of a reunion weekend."

You watched the long scars on Bradley's neck as he swallowed. "Is that it though? Is this just for the weekend?" His eyes were searching your face intently. 

The idea of ending things tomorrow morning was too much for you to take, but when you spoke your voice was tiny and unsure. "Do you want more?"

Bradley's eyes drifted closed and his hands slid up your back, holding you in place as his dancing slowed. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel his racing pulse beneath your fingers on his neck. After a pause, he was looking intently at you again. 

"I wanted more ten years ago, Sugar."

The truth of his words stung you a bit. You'd wanted more, too. But you had also wanted him to get a chance to fulfill all of his other wishes and dreams, without making him feel tethered to you while you were so far away. 

"But what about now?" you asked. Then you took a deep breath and forced yourself to add, "Why didn't you tell me you live in San Diego?" Your voice broke on the last words, and you could see the look of panic in Bradley's eyes.

"How did you know that?"

You tried to pull out of his grasp as you swiped at the tears welling in your eyes. "I saw your luggage tag. In the hotel room. You live in San Diego, and you weren't even going to tell me, were you?"

When you squirmed away, trying to put some space between you, he held you tight. "No. I wasn't going to tell you. Not yet."

"Why not?" you asked, your voice barely audible over the sound of the band. "You don't want me now."

"That's not it!" he insisted loudly. "Sugar. Come on, baby. That's not it."

You just shrugged helplessly and looked around the room, the colorful lights obscured by your tears. "What is it then?" you asked, not meeting his eyes. 

He was stroking your cheek now, and although you tried your best not to, you could feel yourself melting into his touch. "Please look at me." You met his eyes and sniffed, and he kissed you softly, reverently, and you let him. "You're so smart, Sugar. And you work so hard." You watched him struggle with his words as so many other couples danced around you. "And I can't be responsible for derailing your career if Miami is a better choice for you. I can't do that."

"Bradley."

But he just shook his head. "No. You need to visit both schools. You need to remove me from this equation."

"But Bradley!"

"Sugar, you let me do what I needed to do ten years ago. It nearly fucking killed me at first, but I never blamed you for what you did. You kept me safe. And made sure I knew how you felt about me first. And you let me make my decisions for myself and not because I was focusing all my energy on you. It hurts me to say it, but thank you. And now you need to do the same thing for yourself."

You sucked in a deep breath. "And what if I choose San Diego? What if that's the right choice for me? Where does that leave us?"

Bradley smashed his lips against yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck once again. His kiss was demanding, but it ended as soon as it began. "Ask me that again after you make your decision. Either way, whatever your decision is, ask me again, okay?"

You nodded at him. 

"And please forget about my luggage tag and my address and promise me you'll visit both schools."

"I will, Beer Boy. I promise."

------------------------

Bradley held you tight in the middle of the dance floor, cradling your head against his chest and singing you another song. He was so close, once again, to telling you he loved you. He wanted you to know it, was pretty sure you already did, but he was too scared.

More than anything, he wanted you to choose San Diego. Because it was the right fit for you. Not because he was there. But he'd be lying to himself if he didn't want to play a part in your future plans. 

"Beer Boy?" you finally asked him. 

"Yeah, Sugar?"

You were smiling again. You seemed to be more at ease now that you got the information about his address off your chest. 

"Can we go? This is nice and all, but I just want to be with you. Alone."

"Let's go," he replied without hesitation. "Should I call an Uber?"

You nodded as he reached for his phone, and he followed you willingly to grab your purse. "I'm going to run to the restroom. Meet me in the lobby?" you asked. 

Bradley kissed your cheek. "Yep. Ride will be here in nine minutes."

You disappeared through the crowd, and Bradley made his way toward the lobby at a slower pace. He opened up the airline app when it prompted him to check in for his flight, but instead he started to scroll to see if there were any seats available on a later flight. He really needed to be back in San Diego tomorrow, but if he could stay with you for just a little bit longer....

"Bradley?"

He thought he was alone in the lobby. He knew that voice. He spun around and came face to face with Phoebe.

"Hi," he managed. "Phoebe."

"Wow," she sighed. "You look great. Even better than you did ten years ago."

"Yeah? Thanks." He swallowed, his throat tight. It was hard to even look at her, even after all this time. This woman had fed into and also stunted his self esteem for nearly four years of his life. 

"Your scars healed nicely."

"Oh," he muttered, brow furrowed.

"You know I didn't mean it that way, Bradley," she said quickly, taking another step into his personal space. "They never bothered me before."

He ran one hand down along his face. "I'm not doing this with you, Phoebe. I truly hope you've been well, but I'm not doing this."

Bradley started to walk away, but she reached out and stopped him with her hand on his chest. 

"I owe you an apology."

He froze and looked down at her in shock. 

She laughed bitterly. "I never could handle the rejection you gave me. But seeing you here with her? Still? My god, I feel sicker than ever over what I put you through. Sorry."

Bradley felt her patting his chest before she started to withdraw her hand. He stood completely still and then nodded and whispered, "Thank you."

He could hear your heels on the floor and sense your presence before he saw you, but instantly you were at his side, linking your arm through his.

You made a show of running your thumb along his mustache before tilting his head down and kissing him, and he let you do it. "Hi, Sugar," he whispered when you released his lips. 

Bradley watched you turn toward a bitter looking Phoebe and say, "Oh. You'll have to excuse us. We were just leaving." Then you tugged on Bradley's arm and led him toward the exit. "I saw her touch you," you whispered. "I didn't like that."

"No? What are you going to do about it, Sugar?"

You just smirked as he pointed out the car that had arrived to pick you up. "I'm going to take us on a little detour. That's what I'm going to do about it."

He opened the car door for you, and you gave a different address to the driver while you scooted across the back seat so Bradley could climb in as well.

"Where are we going, Sugar?" he whispered next to your ear before kissing you there. 

You were practically crawling into his lap when you said, "My office."

Bradley had pictured many times how you might look working in your very own office in academia. He figured all the college guys would be swarming your office hours to spend a little extra time basking in your presence. He also just knew you'd be a great teacher, one who graded everything farily. But getting to see your actual office? Mess around in it, perhaps?

He grabbed your chin and kissed you so hard you squeaked. But his phone started vibrating in his pocket against your leg. He yanked it out without breaking your kiss, and just wanted to silence it. 

"Oh, it's Nat," you whispered, pulling away from him and looking at the screen. 

Bradley grunted and quickly opened the text thread from one of the few people in his life who consistently talked to him on a daily basis.

Phoenix: How's your class reunion going? Haven't heard from you since yesterday morning!

When the car stopped at a traffic light, and Bradley looked at your face all lit up from the street lights, he put his arm around you. "Mind if I send her a picture?" he asked. 

You just smiled and said, "Okay, Beer Boy."

He snapped a few selfies of the two of you all cozy in the backseat, including one with your head resting on his shoulder and another one with your lips pressed to his cheek.

Quickly, he sent two of them back to Nat and then got his lips right back on yours. 

"Almost there," you whispered, pulling away briefly before licking Bradley's lips with the tip of your tongue. His black suit pants felt extremely tight at the moment the car pulled up to the curb in front of the building where Bradley used to walk you to your lab class. 

He helped you out of the car, and his phone started vibrating in his hand. 

Phoenix: OH MY GOD BRADLEY IS THAT SUGAR?

Phoenix: ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW.

Phoenix: IT'S HER. ISN'T IT? SHE IS STILL FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND YOU LOOK SO HAPPY.

Phoenix: WHY AREN'T YOU WRITING BACK?

Phoenix: OH MY GOD, ARE YOU FUCKING? I AM SO SORRY! TEXT ME BACK LATER.

Bradley tossed one arm around your shoulders and let you read the screen along with him. You started cracking up. "Is it okay if I respond?" you asked, a huge smile on your face.

"Of course," Bradley replied, and he used the ID card you handed him to unlock the building, holding the door open for you to enter. 

"This way," you murmured with a soft laugh as Bradley followed you to the elevator bank, keeping his hand on the small of your back.

As you stepped into the elevator with him right behind you, he watched you send a message to Nat and then hand his phone back to him. He glanced at the screen.

You think I'm beautiful? Bradley was showing me a bunch of pictures, and I think you're stunning! I'm having the best weekend of my life, but I promise I'll return him to you in one piece. It's the least I can do after you've taken care of him all these years.

Bradley's heart was pounding in his ears as the elevator arrived on the eighth floor. "This is the best weekend of your life?" he asked as you laced your fingers through his and led him down the dimly lit hallway. 

"You know, it's not nice to read other people's conversations, Beer Boy," you said with a smirk as you used your ID card to unlock your office door. 

He looked at his phone again.

Phoenix: YOU CAN KEEP HIM! PLEASE KEEP HIM! I'LL SEND HIS FEEDING SCHEDULE AND HIS VACCINATION RECORDS.

Bradley put his phone away with a grin and let you lead him into your tiny office. Two walls were lined with shelves, one wall had a window with a view of the cafeteria, and your desk was right in the middle of the floor. Most of your things seemed to be packed in the cardboard boxes that were stacked up next to the door. 

"Well, this is my office. What do you think?" you asked, shrugging and spinning in a small circle. You looked perfect in your dress, with your tattoos and your mussed up hair. 

"I think...." he began, licking his lips as you planted your palms against his chest. "I think this is the best weekend of my life, too."

Your breathing was a little shallow as you looked up at him and nodded. "What are we supposed to do about it?" you whispered. 

Bradley kissed you softly. "You promised me."

You pulled him closer to you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss. "I know," you murmured against his mouth, and soon he was tasting you, his tongue gently sweeping against yours. Your fingers scraped along the short hair at the back of his neck as you nibbled on his lips and gasped when he stroked your tattoos. 

Every little sensation, everything that was specifically you had him aching for more. There was no way he could be without you now. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do. 

You broke away from his kisses and pressed yourself against his erection. "I have an idea, Beer Boy. What's your Professor Sugar office fantasy?"

He groaned, a deep, needy sound from the very back of his throat. You were gasping in his arms, mouth agape before he even said anything. "We really gonna do that?" he asked you, his voice raspy and broken as you stared up at him with wide eyes. "Because I've been thinking about that for a very, very long time, Sugar."

Bradley eased his fingers along your bare shoulder and up your neck, digging them into the back of your head a little bit, forcing your eyes to remain on his. "Yes," you agreed, already looking like you were in a daze. "I sometimes think about you when I'm alone in here. So it only seems appropriate."

He kissed you hard until you were moaning into his mouth. He wanted you in every way imaginable, all the time. But right now he wanted it sweet and slow and impossibly hot as he showed you just what he thought about when you were on his mind and his dick was in his hand. 

He grabbed you by the hips and guided you backward until you met your desk. Then he spun you around and helped you grab onto the edge of your desk, listening to your hitching breaths and rubbing himself along your backside. "I need you to know," he whispered, pushing your hair away from your ear, "that I'll be thinking about this for the rest of my life."

"Bradley," you groaned as he kissed along the back of your neck, sucking on your sweet skin until you were bucking back against him. 

"Fuck." He reached around to the front of your dress, taking the fabric on either side of the slit and bunching it up in his hands. Then he slowly guided it up around your waist and held it tight with his left hand. "I'd love to fuck you like this, Doctor Sugar," he whispered, running his nose behind your ear. "But with the finesse and restraint I did not possess when I was a student."

"Oh my god, Bradley!" Your voice sounded lighter than air in this small room, your bodies only lit up by the exterior campus lights that filtered through the window. 

He looped one finger through the elastic of the tiny underwear you had on and started to yank it down over your hips, sucking in a harsh breath as you wiggled against him until they were sliding down your legs. Bradley watched the lace land on the tops of your high heels, and then he was unbuttoning and unzipping his pants with his right hand. He eased his pants and underwear down to his thighs and bent you a little bit at the waist with his large frame. 

"You're always soaking wet for me," he gasped as he reached around and slid his fingers against your slit. "You get like this for anyone else?"

"No!" you squeaked as he sunk two fingers inside you without any warning. 

"Just me? You'd get this wet if I was sitting in one of your classes, watching you teach? Soaking through your underwear, squeezing your thighs together in your short, little skirt?"

"Oh god, yes," you groaned, and he pumped his fingers in and out you hard, until you were practically screaming. 

When he slowed his pace again, stroking your clit, he told you, "I'd sit in your class and touch myself. I don't think I would be able to help it, Sugar." He held you firmly against him, pulling his fingers out and leaving you whining before coating his cock with your wetness. He nudged your legs apart with his knee and then guided himself to your entrance, your body welcoming him so sweetly as he bottomed out in one movement. 

Your head was tipped back, and he ran his slick fingers up your neck and between your parted lips. The feel of your tongue swirling along his fingertips and the vibrations of your moans had him shoving his fingers a little deeper. You moaned and whined as you cleaned his fingers while he fucked you at a steady pace. 

"What would I have to do to get an A in your class, Doctor Sugar?" You sucked on his fingers for another beat before he removed them from your mouth and grasped your chin instead. 

"I'd make you stay after class," you gasped. "Watch you touch yourself for me."

"Fuck, fuck!" Bradley growled, slamming into you harder, his left hand gripping your hip. He pulled you by your chin and the front of your neck, arching your back until you were whimpering, meeting his movements stroke for stroke. He could feel you fluttering around him, and he eased his big hand down over your breasts and your tummy until they met your clit. He gave you a sharp squeeze, and this time you did scream before he soothed you with his fingers. 

"I'm gonna cum," you cried, squeezing around him, but Bradley withdrew completely and spun you to face him. You looked up at him, shocked, and he pushed you back to sit on your desk, grabbing your thighs and thrusting into you again. 

You leaned back on both hands, eyes on his as your legs shook gently in his hands. Bradley leaned down and kissed you softly, and you smiled against his lips. He moved a little slower as you came for him, drawing out your orgasm and sucking on your neck as you chanted his name like a prayer. 

Then you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him snug against you as his thrusts grew shallow. "You gonna cum for me, Beer Boy? You gonna earn top marks? Be the teacher's pet?" you purred. And he kissed your mouth and your cheeks and your chin, memorizing the feel of your lips against his mustache as you whined. 

He filled you up, moving inside you until he was no longer dizzy with need. Bradley took your face gently in his hands, satisfied and so in love with you. 

"Sugar," he whispered, your body still intimately connected with his. "I l-"

There was a loud knock on the door. "Hello? It's Ted. From security."

"Oh shit," you hissed, sliding off the desk and shimmying your dress back down. You looked so alarmed, Bradley had to stifle his laughter as he zipped up his pants and straightened out the rest of his suit. Then he groaned when you turned on the overhead lights. 

"Uh, hang on, Ted!" you called, kicking your underwear loose from your shoes. Bradley bent and picked them up, shoving them into his pocket as you opened the door a few inches. "Hi, Ted!"

Bradley heard the security guard's voice. "Oh, it's you, professor! I heard a lot of noise, and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Everything is fine!"

There was a pause, and Bradley watched your shoulders tense up. "Are you alone?" Ted asked. "If you're not okay, I can help you."

You sighed deeply and tipped your head back before pushing the door open wide, revealing Bradley where he was leaning against your desk with both hands in his pockets. 

"Hey, Ted," he said with a smile, and he got to watch the much older man flush crimson as he looked back and forth between the two of you. "Everything is just fine in here."

You pressed your lips together and also nodded at Ted. 

"Right, okay, well. You have a great night, professor," he told you before tucking his radio back into his pocket and hustling away.

You turned to look at Bradley with your hand over your mouth, and Bradley started absolutely cracking up. "Sorry, Sugar, but Ted's never going to look at you the same way again."

You lightly hit his abs, and Bradley pulled you into his arms. "I guess it's a good thing I'm technically only working here for two more weeks," you groaned against his neck. "Poor Ted." Then you were laughing harder in his arms, and soon neither of you could stop. 

Eventually, Bradley tilted your smiling face up to look at him. "I'm going to miss you so much, Sugar."

Your smile wavered a bit. "Can you stay longer?" you asked softly. "A few more days?"

He just shook his head and stroked your lip. "I'm leaving for a six week deployment on Monday."

"Oh," you sighed so sadly that Bradley immediately wanted to tell you he could stay for another week. Another month, just to be with you. 

"Sorry, Sugar."

You took his hand in yours. "Then can we go back to my house? And snuggle?"

"Please."

-------------------------

Thanks for reading and loving these two! I just loved the texts with Phoenix! Beer Boy and Sugar have one more night together.... Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

PART 6

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

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[luvyeni]

p. bestfriendsdad!seunghan x fem bodied reader | warnings: | words: 0.7k ~ (735) 🫧ㆍ₊⊹

request: Hii can I request best friends dad seunghan smut??

“my dad is here”

You bit back a smile as you got out of the passengers seat of her car, walking to her front door. “but just ignore him.”

Normally had it been any of your other friends dad, you probably would’ve — but not mr.hong, he was different; his warm smile, his kind eyes and the fact the hottest 40 something year old man you’ve ever met in your life.

He was also great in bed — you would know that because he fucked you many times before.

“how was my bab

“how was my babygirls day?” he hugged his daughter tightly, she groaned pushing him away, you smiled. “dad im 22, we don’t need to do this everyday.” He frowned. “I just want to hug my daughter why can’t you just go with.” You laughed. “give your dad a hug, not many dads ask for hugs “

“thank you yn, this is why she’s the only one of your friends I like.” Your friend didn’t understand the double meaning that had; or did she notice the look he gave you. “are you two gonna be studying?” your friend grabbed your hand. “yeah, yn is also gonna be spending the night so make enough dinner for her.” He nodded. “got any favorites yn?” you shrugged. “anything is fine.”

After studying and messing around your friend decided to shower before dinner was ready. “I’ll only be about 20 minutes.” She said closing the door; but you were already out her bedroom door — making your way to the kitchen where you knew he’d be.

“what are the making?” you saw him smiling. “your favorite, it just got finished.” He said, turning the heat off. “my favorite?” he finally turned around facing you. “yup, why not?” he pouted, you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him. “I missed you.” He pulled you into a kiss. “we only have 20 minutes.” You breathed.

He quickly lifted you up on the counter; you could feel his hard on pressed against your clothed heat. “lets hurry then.” He quickly pulled your panties down, lifting up your skirt up. “been so hard every since I saw you in this tiny skirt.” He freed himself his slacks, his cock hard and ready to fuck. “did you wear this me?” he rubbed your fold with his tip. “to get me all riled up?” he pushed into you. “sh-shit.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, moving his hips. “fu-fuck princess I missed your cunt.” He groaned. “been thinking about your pretty pussy since the last time I saw you.” you moaned out, he was always able to reduce your body to mush. “ha-harder.” You stuttered, he obeyed switching up his pace, you yelped as he roughly fucked into you. “my pretty slut, you love sneaking behind your friends back, hm?” he bucked up into you. “fuck you clenched around me, you like fucking your friends dad.”

“fuck yes!” you moaned; just as the door to the bathroom opened, he covered your mouth, coming close to your ear. “you don’t want her to catch us right?” he reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit, hissing as you clenched around him. “fu-fuck if you keep clenching around me im gonna cum.” He groaned.

He realized he didn’t have much time, moving his hips at a inhumane pace. “se-seunghan i-I’m gonna— go ahead and cum.” He said. “be a good girl and cum for me.” That was all you needed, before you were cumming. “that’s it -fuck fuck fuck- cum for me.

He quickly chased his high, wishing he had more time. “shit im gonna cum.” He grunted, stilling his hips as he shot his load into your waiting wombs. “feels so good.” He kissed your lips

He wanted to give you aftercare; clean you up and cuddle in bed, but you both know it couldn’t happen, especially since you heard your friends bedroom door open. “shit baby im sorry.” He pulled his pants up gave you your panties back, helping you put them back on. “come to my room later when she’s sleep.” He kissed your head, pulling away just before she came into the kitchen. “dinner ready?”

“oh?” your friend said as he sat out the food. “hey yn isn’t this your favorite?” she asked. “uh— what a coincidence.” Seunghan interrupted. “well then I hope it’s as good as you normally eat.” He smiled.

of course it would be, the first time you had it was when he made it for you.

©️LUVYENI

[goodlucksnez]

So after listening to Zen's Wav, I had a idea to continue. So I gathered some friends and we continued the story with a little nod to @instarsandcrime as well!

So enjoy the continuation!

Al//astor: @onetrickponi

Lu//cifer: @zensations35

V//ox: @goodlucksnez

See below for script!

Alastor: Ah! The man of the hour! Just the person I was hoping to encounter…Now then. Time for a little r̴̈e̷͋g̵͛i̷͊c̷̉ǐ̵d̷̃ë̴́

Lucifer: Oh no…*sneeze* Not you again. What is it this time?

Alastor:  As it turns out, sire, not only do you bestow hellish grace upon your subjects, but pestilence as well! ’Allergies.’ Hah! I should have known. 

Lucifer: Well if someone hadn’t insisted I come on their show with only two days notice!

Alastor: Aha-hA!  If someone would answer their phone more than once a month, your nibs–

*Lucifer sneezes*

Alastor: Well. Glad to see your smoky sternutations aren’t exclusive to my studio, at least. Goodness, I do hope this wallpaper is flame-resistant.*ṣ̶͐n̸̺͐ḙ̸̽e̸̲͂z̸̩͋i̷̠͐n̴̨̊g̸̩̿* Pardon.

Lucifer: Hey! Don’t bust out my lights! I’m working on an important project!

Alastor: And now no one has to see it! Pity. :)

*Voxtech Show Theme Plays*

Vox: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most electrifying news show in the multiverse! I’m your host, Vox,  and I’m here to deliver the latest headlines with a dash of charisma, a sprinkle of wit, and a whole lot of tea *clinking cup* *cup falls* 

Vox: *ignoring fallen cup* Tonight on our program we will go over the most recent broadcast from the King of Hell and the less important interviewer *cackle*

Vox: Ahh how good it feels in my studio! I must say our brand is perfection, it just won't do for anything Less. Than. That. *snigger*  

Vox: Unlike a certain old tyrant my studio is made for the highest of royalty. So if any princes or kings want a real experience, come down to Vees tower and I would love to give you a personalized tour from the Man in Charge. 

Alastor: *sneezing* Pompous, vicious little prick…

Lucifer: Ugh.. *sniff* I hate that guy…”Man in Charge”? And they call me prideful??

Vox: I mean really you just walk in, and it’s chaos. Papers everywhere, coffee stains on the desk, *laugh* it isn't even in a proper studio but an old water tower! Talk about tacky. Unprofessional, if you ask me. But here? Every cable is tucked away, every surface polished--

[Vox continues his spiel while Alastor sneezes]

Alastor: *sneezing* 

Vox:-- to a mirror sheen. We believe in excellence, not just in our content but in our environment, that that is what VoxTex is here to provide you. So, when you tune in to our show, rest assured, you’re getting the crème de la crème. Quality, class, and cleanliness–

Alastor: That isn’t even properly alliterative…

Lucifer: Are you kidding me? His place is a walking fire hazard! Or, not walking. Standing? But I know fire hazards! Man, I wish I could just…*sneezes*

Alastor: HaHAh!…Well, then I’m sure you will appreciate this next bit, Sire.

Vox: *sniffling* *sneezing* I must apologize, my dear viewers *sneezing*  but it seems that even the most prepared among us can be caught off guard. It appears I’m having a bit of a g̶͎͑-̵̓ͅg̵̪̑-̷̖͠G̴̥͒L̶̟̈I̷͈͑T̵̀͜C̸̣͝H̸̖͒—nothing serious, but we believe in safety first here at Vox industries.

*Vox continues sneezing throughout his spiel*

Vox: We’re all about transparency and this is as real as it gets. Fucking bitch! I’m going to step off for a moment to take care of this, and in the meantime, we’ll be ending today’s broadcast a tad earlier than scheduled. FuckI’mgonnafuckingkillhim--Our team is top-notch, and they’ll ensure everything is handled with the utmost professionalism. Thank you for your understanding. We’ll be back on air tomorrow, bright and shiny as ever, ready to bring you the stellar content you love. 

Vox: Cut it! That fucking bitch, I know this is his doing I’m gonna kill him!!

Alastor: *sneezing* *laughing* 

Lucifer: Hoh yeah! Highfive!

Alastor: I beg your pardon?

Lucifer: You…you just take your hand and…uhh…*high five sound*

Alastor: Mmm I suppose. But don’t make a habit out of this, sire.

Lucifer: Eheh…okay…

[theweirderstuffblogdontlook]

early draft Bob Velseb Fanfic

(im still working on a small comic to accompany this fic before i release it officially, but i would appreciate the feedback, so dont hesitate to comment as it encourages me to make more art for the au. This comic takes place after the events of this post.) For reference, the woman in this image next to bob is Mary-Anne

then in this image, from left to right (no including Bob in the middle) we have Roxy, Greta, Sparrow, Ash, Trixie, Jane (who's the bar's manager and doesn't appear in the fic), and Billie (who is the bar's bouncer)

Fic is below the readmore. And I kinda recommend looking back at the images every so often to keep track of who's who, cus there's a lot of lesbians hanging out chatting in this fic.

Hanging out in the mismatched collection of old sofas in the lounge area of the local lesbian bar, some of the bar’s regulars were having a casual chat. When another of the regulars, a woman named Mary-Anne, excitedly came up to the group with a laptop in hand. Mary: “Hey you girls wanna see my latest true crime theory?! I think I've got a really good one this time!” Sparrow: “YEEEEAAAAHhhhhhh! Lemme see it! Show us what detective work ya been up to!” Trixie: “Did you finally see if I’ve done any murders I didn't know about? You said you’d check.” Mary: “Yeah I know, and I'll get to it eventually, but I found something way more interesting…… Barbra.” Sparrow: “Barbra?” Mary: “Yeah!” She sets up the laptop on the table, the women all crowding around to get a look, as Mary-Anne puts on a dramatic, though still a bit joking, tone and pose.

Mary: “Barbra, could secretly be, the notorious serial killer…. Bob Velseb.”

Ash: “Who?” Sparrow: “No fucking way! The Halloween cannibal from that other town down south? How’ed you make that connection?”

Roxy: “Excuse me, Cannibal?!”

Ash: “That’s pretty metal actually. Wish looking into me found connections to crimes that sick.” Greta: “Ummm, isn’t that man dead?”

Sparrow: “Wait yeah good point. The news said he got caught and killed by police last Halloween night. Shouldn't that be like, disqualifying for what hypothetical crimes you think your friends might have committed?”

Mary: “Wellllll…. yeah, supposedly he even had an autopsy and everything. But It fits too well if you just ignore the whole being dead thing!”

Roxy: “Hey! Don't you buncha freaks go just comparing Barbra to people like that. She hasn't even been around that long. Don't need you scaring her off with your true crime detective mess when I know you didn't even ask if she was okay with it first!”

Mary: “But it's suuuuuuuch a good one though!”

Trixie: “Yeah lighten up, I doubt she's gonna mind. I mean it's not like Barbara is actually gonna be a DEAD criminal. And especially with those morbid jokes she likes, she'll probably think it's hilarious.”

Roxy: “Nuh-Uh! I don't care how funny it is. She's still doing this without asking! It's one thing for her to look into yalls lives like a creepy stalker when you ask her to. But don't you go encouraging her with that spying into people's business shit without permission!”

Mary: “Aww come on.”

Ash: “Okay, I'm actually gonna agree with Roxy here. I mean what if one day, I really have to murder someone? I don't need Sherlock Holmes getting on my trail ten minutes later. You could at least ask first.”

Sparrow: “Come on, that's different! I'm sure you'd have a good reason if you did ever murder someone. And she'd be more likely to help you bury the body than turn you in. We all would.”

Roxy: “Nuh-uh, I still don't like this biz. Plus, isn't Barbra a trans woman? You'd probably end up hurting her feelings more by comparing her to a dead MAN than to the whole criminal thing.”

Sparrow: “Wait, since when was Barbra trans?”

Ash: “She was kinda making it obvious with that wig she always wears.”

Sparrow: “Wait really? I thought she was wearing the wig because she had some grizzly scar or something on her head from the car crash and didn't want to call attention to it. I mean they did say she had a bad head injury. Like it's why they said she's always wearing the sunglasses even when inside. The concussion like, messed up her ability to look directly at bright lights or something.”

Ash: “...Yeah okay that's a fair point I didn't need to immediately jump to her wearing the wig being to make her pass better. But like, there's still a lot of stuff besides that. Plus Caprica admitted to it. Barbra definitely used to be a dude.”

Greta: “Doesn't really matter if she's trans regardless, since she only ever really flirts with Caprica.”

Trixie: “I'd fuck her even with a dick like are you fucking kidding me? She's hot as hell.”

Sparrow: “Oh my god same! I swear Barbra is wasted on that woman.”

Roxy: “Yeah, but like, I ain't gonna pretend I wouldn't get a massive crush too if some lady pulled my fat ass out of a burning car wreck and lemme stay at her place while I recover like Caprica did. That's like some fairytale relationship shit.”

Trixie: “Exactly! if I got my life saved all dramatically by someone who's not just gay, but gay AND single ANNND they let you stay at their house for free? I wouldn't even care if they were hot or not. You'd have to be a real big piece of shit to be getting rid of me anytime soon. I'd be grabbing on with both hands. Maybe not as hard as Barbra seems to be, but still.”

Greta: “Umm, I meant more that she's not pressuring anybody, so it wouldn't matter either way what she has.”

Mary: “We're getting off topic! I wanna talk about my cool theory!”

Ash: “Right, right, let's hear it.”

Roxy: “Let's NOT hear it! She didn't ask Barbra for permission!”

Sparrow: “Well since she's already put it together, the least we could do is go over it and let her know if it'd be a mistake to tell Barbra and hurt her feelings. Like if it is something really insulting, it would be better to act like it never happened right?”

Roxy folds her arms and grumbled, but otherwise stops complaining. Letting Mary-Anne get on with it.

Tapping on her laptop for a second before turning it around to show a PowerPoint style compilation of research and pictures, starting with Bob's prison mugshot, which the ladies leaned in to see.

Mary: “So here's what I found. So we've got this Bob Velseb guy right? Notorious cannibal serial killer, captured on Halloween night a few years ago and put in prison.”

Billie: “....Did you really make a whole presentation for this?”

Mary: “I told you, it's a really good one! And I had to keep my evidence somewhere anyway. So it's like a digital scrapbook, and I just cleaned it up some to show you.”

Trixie, with a bit of a teasing tone: “Becha wish you could make a whole corkboard setup with red yarn instead.”

Mary: “I sooooooo would, but it’s just too hard to fit that sort of thing in my car and drive it around. You all gotta come meet at my house so I can have the excuse to set up a real one!” Billie: “....Amateur detective potluck.” Mary: “Omg yes. With like a bunch of detective based desserts! Sparrow: Chalk outline chocolate cookies!

Ash: “Halloween coleslaw.” Roxy, through half muffled snickering: “Girl, the fuck is halloween coleslaw??” Mary: “We’re getting off track! Back to what I was saying…”

She switches to the next slides showing clips from newspapers and the like.

Mary: “So he stays in prison for awhile. But then last year, he escapes from prison with a few other small time criminals.

And he spends a few months killing people, like 8 or 9 bodies being found, all with the same M - O. Until Halloween night comes around again. He goes after the same family he got caught while trying to kill that other Halloween. And it leads to an encounter with the police who kill him in a shootout. Where he's brought to the morgue for an autopsy and has the cause of death confirmed…..

BUT!!!”

She changes to the next slide, which was talking about a car crash, a man found dead, and had a map with some areas marked in mspaint.

Mary: “The next day after the news report of Mr. Velseb’s death goes out, we have this weird little event happen. So there’s this man, who was supposedly on his way to a hunting trip? He's found stabbed to death on the side of the road here.”

She zooms in on the map, showing the road between this town and the weird little town where Bob comes from, and points to the marked location just past the outskirts of Bob's town.

Mary: “Now wild animals had gotten to the corpse before it was found, so it was pretty mangled, but he had definitely been stabbed. Which is a bit of evidence that could link to the knife wielding serial killer. Bob Velseb, also known as the devil butcher, so named because he used to be a butcher and ended up feeding his victims to his patrons.”

Roxy: “Oh, no, ew why'd you have to go and tell me that?”

Mary: “Well I had to give you the context that this is a guy who stabs people, so we should be looking for stuff like this where the victim was stabbed.”

Roxy: “You could've just said he stabs people!”

Mary: “Well, he also tends to butcher and eat people so we gotta keep an eye out for…”

Billie, in her slightly monotone, but firm voice: “Maybe cool it with the gruesome details.” 

Mary: “Alright alright. It's not super relevant right now anyway, since it looks to me like the guy was in too much of a rush anyway to actually butcher anyone. Because the interesting thing for us…. is this man's truck.”

She points to a location further down the road, on the outskirts of their own town/small city and close to one of the parks.

Mary: “His truck… was found here. Crashed into a ditch, blood all over the inside of it, but no body. So if it had been a regular crash, then the hunter's body should have been right here with his car, not all the way back here covered in stab wounds. So according to the evidence, he was stabbed to death here, had his car stolen by someone who looked to be pretty injured themselves, which was then driven all the way here… to our town.”

Roxy: “Guuuurl…. Shut the hell up! That is sinister as fuck! You're telling me we've got somethin coming up from that creepy ass missing kids town, to over where we live? Man I don't even care if it happened the day after some big time serial killer died. That should still be a big ass problem!”

Mary: “Don't worry, it gets even better!”

Billie: “I think you mean worse.” 

Mary: “Yeah! It gets even worse! So in the days after this body was found up until now, the number of murders went way up for about a month or so. With the bodies matching Bob Velsebs usual modus operandi. Showing up stabbed and mangled with pieces missing. With even a few cops getting killed in that time! 

And then after that, even though there weren't any more bodies being found, the number of missing persons still stayed higher. Almost like a murderer who used to work out in the open….  was now covering his tracks.”

Trixie: “That's spooky as hell! Why's this the first time I'm hearing about somebody out there killing people??”

Billie gave a bit of a knowing look as she explained: “Because what we're listening to is a conspiracy. She's not seeing the evidence and working from it, she's made a theory first and is putting together all the information that supports the theory. That's how these true crime conspiracies work. It's good for a spooky campfire story, but there's a reason why the actual detectives aren't saying the same thing and telling the local news to spread the word.”

Roxy: “Man, you're just gonna be working me up over nothing then.”

Mary: “Not REALLY nothing, this stuff has actually happened.”

She then pitches her voice low and spooky for emphasis.

Mary: “And who knows, maybe there really was a cover up with the serial killer not actually being killed.”

Sparrow: “Yeah! Don't be a spoilsport! So like, so…. Like… uhhh… so how does this stuff have anything to do with Barbra though? Like you're saying the death of this Bob guy was a cover up, but how does this connect to Barbra?”

Mary: “Well first up, their descriptions are very similar. Barbra has the right height and build for…”

Billie: “How tall did they say this Velseb guy was?”

Mary: “Uhhh….”

She flipped through the presentation back to the mugshot 

“6 foot 4.”

Billie: “Yeah, that's about right for Barbra.”

Showing her experience as a bouncer with being able to judge people's height from comparing them to their ID's.

Mary: “Right! Hair color, skin, build, even the accents match too.”

Sparrow: “Cool! That's already way better than when you tried to link me to any murders!”

Mary: “I know right!”

Greta: “Still, that's just looking like a dead serial killer. If you're only going based off of just happening to know someone who matches the description, that could still lead to hurt feelings.”

Mary: “But that's the thing, it's not only looking the same. Like for instance, think about how Barbara and Caprica said they met.”

Billie: “.... A car accident.”

Mary: “Right! And what started off this whole uptick in violent crime? This guy getting killed, getting his truck stolen, then whoever stole it crashing the truck into a ditch on the outskirts of the town.”

Trixie: “That's not the same type of accident they described in how they met though.”

Mary: “Yeah, but any good cover story has an element of truth in it.”

Ash: “So you're basically saying, that Caprica pulled somebody out of a wreck, who turned out to be a cannibal serial killer that the cops covered up the death of. And who instead of cannibal serial killing her, fell head over heels in love, and now…. what, they're like a serial killer power couple or something? So is Caprica secretly a serial killer now too?”

Mary: “Weeeeeeeelllllllll…. Kinda? Yeah? I mean, turns out, Capricas actually kinda legit been through some horrible stuff in real life. Buuuuut I'm not so sure about talking about that stuff since it, you know, actually 100% happened to her.”

Trixie: “Shit, so you're saying she actually has some kind of excuse for how trying to make smalltalk with her, makes her look like she's offended you even thought to try and speak to her?

It's not like… you know. Because of some guy…. Right?”

Mary: “No, no, nothing like that.”

Greta: “Well… you might as well tell us since we've come this far.”

Mary: “....Okay. Just a sec.”

She goes to the laptop, clicks open a web browser, and takes a moment to look up the right event.

Mary: “Okay, so over a decade ago, there was this thing that happened at a campsite near here, where this big elk supposedly ate something bad, like old rat poison from the 70s or something, which made it freak out and go on a violent rampage where it gored a bunch of campers to death.”

She steps back to show an old newspaper clipping with a picture of Caprica and a bunch of young scouts.

Mary: “Caprica was one of the few survivors, who also saved a bunch of cub scouts by having them climb a tree where the elk couldn't reach them.”

Sparrow: “Hold on, I actually recognize this one! That's the state record for the single most people killed in a single day due to an animal attack! So Caprica was one of the people involved in it the whole time? That's wild!”

Ash: “From hero to serial killer….. That's pretty brutal of her…. Nice.”

Sparrow: “Of course the lady who still dresses goth every day even though she's pushing 40 would have that be the takeaway here.”

Ash: “I know what I'm about.”

Trixie: “That still seems like a bit of a reach though.”

Billie: “I’ll reiterate. This is a conspiracy theory being made up for fun. It's going to be full of reaches.”

Trixie: “No I mean, Barbra is absolutely crazy for that girl. Like remember that one time? (comic about bob drowning his sorrows in liquor because caprica had to go to a doctors appointment and he couldn't come along.) Trixie: “It just seems disproportionate to fall that hard after a life of murder and cannibalism, to Caprica of all people.”

Sparrow: “You literally just said a few minutes ago if you were in Barbara's position getting your life saved, they wouldn't be able to get rid of you if they tried.”

Trixie: “What, am I suddenly not allowed to embellish a little? But I mean, come on, haven't you seen the two of them enough? Heck, starting out I was more worried that Caprica was like… like she didn't even want to be in a relationship?”

Ash: “I always got the opposite impression personally, like she was taking advantage of Barbra. She's always acting so mean to her. Like with us she's at least trying to be polite, but not so much with Barb. I've been trying to keep an eye for any other red flags like that, but Barbra’s never seemed to mind soooo….”

Greta: “Hey now, let's not start implying Caprica is abusive. It's clear she's done a lot for Barbra, however begrudgingly. Even coming to the bar all these times. It's clear Caprica isn't doing it because she enjoys clubbing. Barbara's always been the one having the most fun.”

Roxy: “Yeah, let's not have this get out of hand with all these accusations.”

Mary: “And more importantly, I want better feedback on my theory! I mean of all the reasons why it could be wrong, I'd hope for better than something like “Barbra is acting way too crazy to have POSSIBLY been a deranged cannibal serial killer.”

Sparrow: “That Barbra is a certified freak 7 days a week and I love that for her.”

Roxy: “Forget about Barbra, I still don't like the thought that some cannibal serial killer has come over from that town with all the spooky shit going on and is around here terrorizing people!”

Billie: “Once again, she's not following the evidence, she's inventing a ghost story and then finding scary evidence to support the narrative while leaving out any conflicting evidence or context. If it were genuinely something to worry about, this wouldn't be your first time hearing about it.”

Trixie: “Plus it can’t actually be the cannibal serial killer guy, he's super dead.”

Mary-Anne, with a bit of a mischievous tone as she leaned in back to her presentation: “.....You know, I actually found some cell phone video of the guy getting run over I can show everyone.”

To which Billie the bouncer stood up sharply and said: “Nope. Putting my foot down. New rule. No snuff films in the bar.”

Before closing the lid of the laptop.

Mary: “Awwww what? No!”

Trixie: “Killjoy.”

Ash, clearly sarcastic and kidding around: “Yeah, no watching the brutal deaths of serial killers in a bar? What are you, homophobic or something?”

Mary: “It's actually a pretty funny video without much gore or anything. The guy gets run over by a car like 4 times in a row. Like a loony toons character.”

Billie: “I don't care how funny it is, that's the sort of stuff that can get the business in trouble.”

Roxy: “But can't we make an exception this time? I'd feel a lot better for sure knowing that guy is dead.”

Billie replies as she straightens out her pants and shirt: “It's almost time for me to start my shift, so might be best to just call it quits here.”

Mary-Anne went back to the laptop to scroll through the list of images she'd gathered for people either missing or dead.

Mary: “Awww, but I didn't even get a chance to go through the list of victims yet.”

Greta: “No, she's right. I think we've seen enough. I doubt this is anything we should be letting Barbra see. Let's just stop here before…”

Sparrow: “Wait. Scroll back up.”

Mary-Anne did as asked, scrolling a bit up again and upon seeing it Sparrows eyes got wide, and she covered her mouth in shock. Prompting a few of the others to look as well. Getting a similar look of surprise.

Ash: “Oh, wow.”

Mary: “What? What is it?”

Ash: “You weren't there that day. So you wouldn't know. But that one?”

She points at a certain picture of a man on the screen.

Ash: “That's one of the guys who grabbed Caprica that day.”

The silence hangs in the air for a moment.

Mary: “This guy?”

Ash: “Yep.”

Trixie: “Okay that's spooky. But one guy going missing is a coincidence at best. Especially the kind of guy who'd behave like he and that other jerk did. I bet he's asking for a fight everywhere he goes. So let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe if they both went missing that might be a…”

Mary: “Well let's see! What did the other one look like?”

She said with a bit of excitement, scrolling through the rest of her list of missing persons.

Billie:“.... He looked like that.”

Mary: “Huh?”

Billie stepped over, and used the laptop trackpad to scroll a bit upwards, then pointed at a specific picture in the list of missing persons. The picture of the second guy who had tried to hit on Caprica that night.

Mary: “Thats him.”

The air hung still for a moment, the weight of the realization sinking in. Trixie Being the first to break the silence with,

Trixie: “..... Well shit, Barbra and Caprica might actually be some kind of serial killers.”

Another moment of silence, until

Ash: “.....Good for them.” The humor of the response breaking the tension with an indignant, though slightly giggly response of Sparrow: “Ash! Oh my god!”

Ash: “What? Am I supposed to be upset that a pair of creeps who snuck into a gay bar and try to sexually harass the shortest lesbian they could find in the club, and right in front of her girlfriend no less, have gone missing? Good riddance if you ask me.”

Sparrow looked between the women nervously before her gaze settled on Billie: “For real though, should we… call someone about this?” Mary: “What happened to helping bury the bodies?”

Trixie: “Would probably be burying Barbra if you sent the police after her.”

Sparrow: “What?” Trixie: “Seriously, what the fuck do you think would happen if we called up the police and told them that a lesbian trans woman MIGHT be involved in the disappearance of two men? And not only that, but that we’re suspicious of her being involved in their disappearance because she got into a fight with these two dudes when they tried to “correct a woman from the deviancy of homosexuality”. You might as well be broadcasting “Hey dudes! Free target practice over here! Feel free to shoot this woman as many times as you want, because no jury is going to condemn you for murdering a butch trans woman!” to almost every trigger happy misogynist dirtbag in town.” Greta: “I knew this was going to be a mistake….”

Billie let off a sigh: “Trixie is right. We could easily be putting Barbra’s life at risk based on a coincidence she had nothing to do with. Whereas it would be a roll of the dice if it even mattered to law enforcement if she were actually guilty or not.”

Sparrow: “....I guess you’re right.”

Roxy: “Man I told y'all this was gonna be a bad idea. Now yall are speculating about turning Barbra over to the police. But you know what? I’m with Ash on this one! Even though Mary-Anne’s been trying to freak us all out trying to link all these murders to Barbra, the only real evidence we have is that two wannabe date rapists who happened to get into a fight with Barbra have now gone missin. And even if Barb and Caprica did off those two, then good on em for actually being proactive in getting rid of creeps like that. Long as they’re sticking to cleaning up trash like that, and aren’t going after any of the people I care about or who have the good sense to just be minding their own business, then I couldn't give less of a shit.” Trixie: “I hope Barbra and Caprica did kill those pigs though. Fuck the cops, I wish more of them had been killed.”

Greta: “.....I think it might be best for everyone if we just change the subject and forget the whole thing.”

Mary: “........Do you think maybe Barbra and Caprica might have room for one more in their relationship though?” Sparrow, through laughter: “OH MY GOD!” Ash, also trying to stifle a chuckle: “Dude, don’t go trying to be some couple’s third wheel just because you think they might be serial killers.”

Trixie: “Yeah, what if they say yes and then you find out they’re actually super boring and you just end up being disappointed?” Mary: “A girl can dream can’t she?” Roxy, clearly not taking it seriously: “I’d be more worried about you thinking the worst case scenario here would be them NOT being serial killers.” They continue chatting for awhile about various things before eventually going their separate ways, having all agreed not to tell Barbra or Caprica about this conversation. 

[stackslip]

your post about fma03 are good and i'm stuck thinking about scar for hours at a time again. stories talking about 'revenge' can read really bad to me because a lot use 'this oppressed minority trying to fight state violence is bad' plotline. fma03 was honestly pretty unique in that scar was this tragic hero instead. it's sad, it's clearly difficult for him and he see him struggle, but everything he does was also necessary to prevent further genocide.

YEAH, it's a trope i absolutely loathe and scar in the og manga is its poster boy and everyone and their mom loves to pretend it's super progressive or something lol. there are aspects to scar's manga character i wish i could have enjoyed more were he not constantly scolded by half the cast for being an Evil Murderer when the war criminals' redemption arcs are assumed to be done by now and they're good people we should all root for. bc like. i genuinely LIKE the idea of scar's brother's other arm being about reconstruction. i LIKE the concept of scar holding destruction and rebuilding at once, and being able to one day move on and participate in the rebuilding of ishbal! but it comes with the idea that he is wrong for wanting to destroy amestris's military and the people who've murdered his people in the first place, it comes with him calling himself scum for being a Bad Murderer, it comes with the only other major talking ishbalan character BEING A MEMBER OF AMESTRIS'S MILITARY, UNDER THE COMMAND OF A WOMAN WHO CURSES HER BROTHER OUT FOR NOT HAVING JOINED IN THE GENOCIDE, basically scolding scar in turn for daring to want revenge. lol. i likewise would like the thing between him and mei a lot better if it didn't feel like it didn't play in tropes of "this big brown scary man is actually sweet bc this cute pale skinned girl makes him Soft" which.... i'm not fond of. i like mei and his relationship to her a lot, I Do Not Like The Framing. i do not like what arakawa does with scar in the manga, and this will always, ALWAYS be my biggest contention with fma, my line in the sand that i refuse to back down. so many things i can chalk up to taste, but i'm never not going to argue that scar's treatment in the og manga is absolutely abysmal.

in comparison, the way 03 reframes scar from his very first appearance as someone a lot more vulnerable/human and understandable, how his violence is put into context for what amestris has done to him and how al and him have this direct connection and mutual understanding, down to al flat out saying "if someone killed my brother i'd probably want to burn down the world too".... it's just. really good all around. scar's arc does not revolve around the elrics' plot, but when he does encounter them it's not so ed can scold him for being a murderer--because scar can and does bite back ed for participating in the military in the first place. his encounter with lust, the dynamic between him, his brother and his brother's love and how all three of them have been denied even their very names and identity in the aftermath of the genocide..... unbelievably bleak. how lust and scar likewise are trying to reclaim an identity as specifically Ishbalan in different ways too! lust by remembering what she was made from, going against dante and realizing what has been taken away from her, dying while proclaiming I WAS A WOMAN FROM ISHBAL. and then you have scar, who refuses his past name because he died with his brother and he died with the old ishbal. amestris murdered him along his people. there's no coming back from this. and like.... it's tragic, because it means scar is doomed from the start. he sees himself as a ghost and he is unable to not be one. but he also *chooses* to do something of it. to not simply pursue revenge but to actively stop amestris's military from repeating the genocide in liore! he is STILL enacting violence, he is using ishbal's own old alchemy and usurping amestris's claims so he can turn their own weapon back on them. ishbal was murdered for amestris's principles, and likewise scar is going to destroy as much of the amestrian military as he can in the name of not only avenging ishbal but stopping it from ever happening again! and his plan works. it works, and it's tragic, but also triumphant. it's tragic because scar was a good man.

that's the difference between the treatment of scar in og fma and 03. in the former, scar is the one character who has to Grow Into A Good Person, because it is assumed that no good person should use violence even to defend their people and avenge genocide. because violence is the prerogative of the protagonists, and because it is easy to remove the "bad people" from the premise--you can just excise them as a tumour, and then amestris is no longer a fascist and genocidal hell state. never mind that a sympathetic character (one often touted as a feminist icon ffs) is actively defending her choice to participate in the genocide to the end and derides another for NOT participating in it, but apparently she's fine! but scar has to Learn To Forgive and becoming a good person means settling down and things will magically improve. and scar has to learn this from the elrics, even as they talk down to him and see him in a very negative light, because apparently the two blonde protagonists understand violence better than a survivor of genocide does.

in 03, scar is a good person. or at the very least, he's entirely justified. and he might not be right 100% of the time, but he is from the beginning considered to understand a lot more of the world than the elrics are! he is a tragic hero because he died long ago, and there was no other path for him. and he isn't.... wrong. it's been shown in 03 that ishbalan survivors literally get hunted and displaced wherever they go. they can't rebuild, as long as amestris is as it is! you can't just spout platitudes about how violence is bad, because even if you give up violence it will show up at your door and burn your refugee camp and the only way to counter is meeting it with violence yourself. where ed sacrifices himself at the end for his brother in another tragic hero ending, scar sacrifices himself for not only the memory of his brother but for all of ishbal AND liore to be able to live. and he's right! he's destabilized the military enough that when roy makes his choice and kills bradley, the military has been crippled and is forced to take a step back, and amestris is suddenly on the defensive and no longer able to take on offensive wars. ishbalans and liorites are shown rebuilding in peace, as amestrian soldiers are no longer able to attack them. scar's sacrifice worked. he took on the identity of old ishbal's avenging ghost, and he pushed it to the end. he finally accepted his brother's love and sacrifice, and sacrificed himself in turn--like the elrics do! his last words are words of love. they're tender. in the moment that he kills hundreds of amestrian soldiers, music swells. yes, it's tragic. fma 03 isn't saying that justified violence is all glory and roses, it's still painful--the soldiers' death isn't a fun happy time, but.... they were coming in to murder thousands of liorites, possibly rape some of them like they did rose. their lives, 03 says again and again, are *not* more important than the lives of marginalized people. they've made their choice. violence here was the right call, it was an act of love, and it is framed as such. scar's final act is mirrored by the final act of the protagonists, there too an act of love. scar in 03 is so much more humanized and respected a character than he is in the manga, and regardless of 03's other failings or differences in taste, i will argue that his story in 03 is more relevant and real as ever today as it was during the political context of 2003-04

[evervigilantnightshade]

Guarded - Part 4

Reader is stubborn, sassy, and has a past filled with trauma. Joel new to Jackson is dealing with his past and is struggling to deal with his new life. They meet and can't stand each other, yet there's something under all their banter neither can deny.

Reader x Joel Miller

MDNI

Warnings: Typical canon violence, swearing

They spent the rest of the ride in an uncomfortable silence and Joel, no matter how hard he thought about it, couldn’t come up with something to say to break the silence. He got to the point where he missed her banter and wished she would say something, even if it would annoy him. 

They eventually arrived at a small rundown cabin. He was grateful to get off the quad and stretch his sore muscles. He removed his helmet and placed it on the seat of the quad, Y/N doing the same. She then went to the wagon and pulled out one of the rifles. She unhooked Cloud from the basket and the pup jumped out and immediately went to the closest tree to relieve herself. 

“I’m going to walk around the cabin, make sure there haven't been any visitors.” 

Before he could argue that he should join her she disappeared behind the cabin, whistling for Cloud to join her.

He stood there for a few moments wondering how he was going to fix this. He wasn’t new to scars by any means and had more than enough of them scattered over his body. He understood though, it wasn’t something she wanted people to see and most likely due to the reactions she got. The one he had. Pity. 

He clenched his fists, angry at himself. Not wanting to think about it anymore he began unloading the contents of the wagon, placing everything on the old wooden poach by the front door. 

By the time she returned he had everything unloaded and was sitting on the steps waiting for her. 

“Thanks.” 

One word, that’s all she said.  No witty come back, no teasing. Joel felt like shit. He knew he had wanted her to stop talking, he told Tommy that, he told himself. But now that she had all he wanted was for the old Y/N to come back.

They took everything into the cabin and Y/N started a fire. Joel looked around at the old building. It was small, a kitchen, a living room and a dining table all were in the same space as soon as you walked on the door to the right of what looked like a bedroom. He glanced in and saw a bed.

“Just one bed?” He asked, trying to get a rise out of her. 

“Yeah we’ll figure something out. Take turns on the couch or something.” 

“You going to be like this all week?” He snapped. “I can’t decide what’s worse, when your mouth won’t stop or this.” 

“What exactly do you want me to say? Wanna ask me how it happened? Want the details so we can spend the next few days with you treating me like some delicate flower?” 

“A delicate flower.” He scoffed. “You’re more like one of those venus fly trap things that lure you in and devour you.”

He saw a glimpse of a smile ghost her lips.

“And no, I don't want to ask about it. If you want to tell me fine but I ain’t askin. So what you have a scar, no big deal we all do.” 

He lifted his shirt to show the big scar he had on his stomach from where he fell on the pipe not too long ago. 

She sat for a minute looking at the scar and he saw her face relax a little bit.

“Showing off your dad bod is a good way to get me to share that bed with you loverboy.” 

He felt almost relieved at her comment.

“Yeah well if you’re thinking that this old man is sleeping on that rusty broken couch think again.”

“Alright alright I get it, you want me. Say no more.” 

“Darlin, I can't stand you.” He smirked 

“Awe big man can’t accept his feelings? Don’t worry, I can wait.” 

“You’ll be waitin a long time.” 

She scoffed and started unloading the bins of food she had brought. She knew he saw her scar the moment she turned her head and his grip tightened around her. Her heart sank. She figured if there was anyone that wouldn’t give a shit it would be him. But she was wrong and could feel the pity radiating off of him. 

She reacted like she always had, to close down and get angry. It wasn't the best way to deal with it but she was tired of pretending it didn’t bother her. Everyone had trauma now, she wasn’t special. And everyone had lost.  

Joel certainly had. She saw the look on his face when Tommy mentioned the book. When he looked at her, daring her to say something, or to look at him with the pity she had seen on so many faces. But it wasn't pity she felt at that moment. It was understanding. 

She turned and saw Joel stoking the fire, his back muscles flexing under the flannel shirt he was wearing. Yeah, Joel Miller was going to be a problem for her.

“So do we just stay here the rest of the day?” His voice broke her thoughts 

“No. There’s a lot of daylight left so we’ll go check the traps. We can grab some sandwiches and eat out there.” 

“Does my opinion matter?” He asked. 

“Not really.” 

“I guess let’s go then boss.” 

“You’re really not good at the nickname game.” 

“I haven’t started trying yet. Just you wait.” 

Y/N laughed and grabbed her bag. Cloud reluctantly got up from the small dog bed Y/N had for her by the fireplace. They grabbed the rifles and headed out, Joel following close behind her, following her steps. 

The area around the cabin was forested and Y/N expertly navigated the trail, her footsteps light and quiet. Joel watched her carefully from behind her, noticing the way she kept alert of her surroundings while also knowing where to step. He could see how she did well hunting and she was able to be out here alone. 

“Where’d you learn to hunt?” He asked, breaking the silence. 

She didn’t answer right away, thinking of how to answer. 

“Someone close to me used to hunt before all this. Took me a couple of times. Then after we left the QZ I knew we had to eat to survive. Olivia couldn’t, she was pregnant with Gracey and it was a hard pregnancy. Camilla couldn’t bring herself to kill. So I stepped up, went out and tried to remember those trips. I wasn’t the best at first but I knew how to make traps and how to clean the kills. From there it’s been practice I suppose.” 

It was the most she had said to him that didn’t include a sassy comment. He decided to press further. 

“How long were you in QZ?”

“About seven years.” 

“Why’d you leave?” 

“What’s with the twenty questions?” 

“Just making conversation.” Joel shrugged.. 

“I’m just sayin not exactly fair. How about a question for a question?” 

“I guess that depends on the questions.” His voice was flat but he smiled. “So why did you…” 

“Um no sir. You’ve had your turn. It’s mine.” 

“Fair enough, go ahead.” 

“Who was your first kiss?” 

He laughed loudly. Of all the questions he thought she was going to ask, that was not one of them. 

“Her name was Millie. We were in third grade. I was in love with her, and thought I was going to marry her. I gathered my courage and kissed her at lunch break one day, but she pushed me off of her and told all her friends I was gross. Broke my little heart.”

“Awe baby Miller had a heart?” 

“Not after that.” 

It was Y/N’s turn to laugh. Joel really liked it when she laughed like this. It wasn’t sarcastic or forced, it was open and honest. 

“Ok my turn. What was your favorite post outbreak meal?” He asked, watching her head tilt as she thought. 

“We had this restaurant by our house that made dill pickle chicken wings. It was like this creamy parm dill sauce they drowned them in. So fucking good.” 

“God I miss wings and beer.” 

“Right! I’m drooling over here thinking about them. Ok, I’ve got one. Favorite movie?” 

“Easy Curtis and Viper.” 

“Jesus Christ of course that’s your favorite movie.” 

“What’s wrong with Curtis and Viper? It’s a classic.” 

“It’s something all right.” 

“Let me guess you were one of those romcom girls.” 

“Do I look like I watched romcoms? Action was good, horror was better.” 

“Well considering how much of a nightmare you are, that makes sense.” 

“That wasn’t bad, Miller. Well done.”

“Thanks I’ve been practicing in the mirror when I’m alone.” 

Who would’ve thought, Joel Miller was actually funny. Never would’ve guessed. Y/N took a deep breath, damn him for ticking all her boxes. 

“Alright, what’d you do before?” 

“Contractor. Tommy and I had a company we ran together.” 

“Ah so that’s why Tommy wanted you to help at the ranch. Figured he just wanted to get you out of the house.”

Shit. Joel had completely forgotten that Tommy asked him to help her. When he said no it was to Ellie helping at the ranch. He didn’t even answer about the work. 

“If you still need help I can come by. Tommy said something about an enclosure?” 

“Yeah we need a bigger outdoor enclosure for the larger dogs. You don’t have to help. I’m sure I can manage eventually.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll come by after we get back.” 

“I mean I think we both know it’s just an excuse to spend more time with me. But I do need the help so I’ll agree under one condition.”

“Oh god, what’s that?” 

She stopped and turned to face him.  “You can’t fall in love with me, Joel Miller.” 

She said his name. He felt his body tense as a ripple ran through it. It sounded so good on her lips. He tried so hard to keep his face even but he couldn’t help the smile that was pulling at his lips. Fuck, he was in trouble. 

“You wish.” Was all he could muster as his face burned red.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N led them from one trap to the next. He ended up being just as impressed with Cloud as he was with Y/N. Every time they stopped Cloud would be on alert watching and listening for danger. And every time Y/N was done she would call out to Cloud.

“What are you saying to her?” 

“Allons-y. It means “let's go" in French.” 

“And when you were giving Hera commands, was that French too?” 

“Yeah I told her “Good girl” and “I know you can take him but look how sad he looks without his little shovel”

“It was all that I had available! I was trying to protect my kid.” 

“You really wanna get into that again?” 

Joel sighed “No. Why French?” 

“Because when we get into the thick of it if someone yells stop you don’t want them to be confused. But if they hear 'Arret' they know it’s one of us. We chose French because there aren’t many French speakers around here.”

“That’s actually pretty smart.” 

“Actually pretty smart? Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Yes.” 

“Well you suck just as bad at those as you do nicknames.” 

They continued with the questions back and forth as they went. They kept it light. He learned she loved to read, the classics were her favorite. She learned he played guitar and played football in high school. They only ended up with two rabbits but she redid the traps and said they’d check again before they left. The conversation though made up for it. 

When they got back to the cabin Y/N pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses to help them warm up. They decided to wait a bit for dinner considering they had sandwiches while they were checking traps. Cloud was snoring softly on her bed.  

“So I guess it’s my turn.” She said with both hands on her glass as they sat beside each other on the couch facing each other. “How’d you and Ellie end up together?” 

Joel’s face fell and he looked down into his glass of whisky, trying to think of what to say. 

“Oh shit, sorry. I thought that was going to be an easy one. Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer that, I’ll ask another question.” 

“No it’s ok, I’ll answer.” 

“Are you sure? Don’t feel like you have too.” 

“I want to. It’s still pretty fresh’s all.” Joel took a deep breath and took a big gulp of the amber liquid for courage. “I was ah… I was a smuggler before. Guns, drugs, anything people needed really. Tommy had gone missing from the radio, hadn’t heard from him in a while and I wanted to head West to try and find him. All's I needed was a truck battery. Me and my partner were approached by the leader of the Firefly’s to take Ellie to a Firefly base in exchange for a battery and more. So we agreed.” 

He looked at Y/N and noticed her face was pale and her hands were shaking. 

“Shit are you ok? You’re shakin like a leaf.” 

“I’m fine. Just keep going.” She put her glass on the coffee table, afraid she was going to spill. 

“Are you sure? Smugglin was just a way to make ends meet and I never had smuggled people before I was asked to help with Ellie I swear.” 

“No, it’s… just keep going. Please.” 

“OK um well we got to the base and they were all dead. We lost my partner but we had friends she thought could held, it turned out they were dead though. My last hope was Tommy. He was a Firefly before and would know where they were. So the two of us kept travelling West. It was hard, we ran into a lot of problems but we made it to Tommy eventually.” 

Y/N remembered now, the rumors around town that Tommy’s brother had been there. She had been out hunting that week so she didn’t see him but everyone was talking about it. 

“He told us they were in Salt Lake. So we headed that way. Again ran into trouble, that’s when I got the scar I showed you. Eventually though we made it.” 

“I’m confused, she’s in Jackson. What happened?” 

“Changed my mind. Brought her back to Jackson instead.” 

“Good. Fucking Fireflys. What did they even want with a kid? You know what, don’t tell me.” 

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Joel could see she was a mixture of angry and emotional. 

“You didn’t babe, it’s the Firefly’s. I have history with them.” 

Joel felt his chest tighten at the new nickname but this wasn’t the time. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No not that. Not yet anyways. Sorry I know you just told me about Ellie and please know it’s not because I don’t trust you, it’s just too hard for me.” 

“Don’t worry. I get it.”

They sat there for a moment and then Y/N let out a slow breath and picked up her whisky. Forcing a smile on her face.

“Can’t believe you thought I was upset because you were a smuggler. Goof.” 

“What the hell was I supposed to think? I say I’m a smuggler and you look like you’re going to pass out.” 

She was trying to muster up a good comeback but she just couldn’t. 

“Sorry. I just haven’t heard the name Firefly’s in awhile. They took… they took everything from me and I honestly wouldn’t be sad to see them all suffer. And before you ask I did know about Tommy. He told me a couple of years after we got to Jackson. We talked about it a lot and I hold him no ill will for his time with them.” 

“If I would’ve known…” 

“How could you? It’s ok, don't beat yourself up about it. I’m just happy you made the right choice in the end by not delivering Ellie to them.” 

He wanted to tell her he did make them suffer. That he wiped them out and they wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone anymore. But that would expose Ellie and he definitely wasn’t about to do that. One day maybe. But not today.

[garglyswoof]

the space we'll fill with time

For Come What May May 29th: Say the Quiet Parts Out Loud A conversation you don't think they'll ever have but wish they would. | What are some offscreen moments you wish you could see? I won't be around much tomorrow, so posting early.

“What was she like?” Karen’s question is soft as it breaks the comfortable quiet. Frank winces before realizing the reaction is just instinct - he's unbothered by the question. Not when it comes from her.

He turns the wince into a smile that stretches across his face as he remembers. “She was a ballbuster, that’s for sure. Didn’t take any shit from me. Made me understand what a real man needed to be, y’know?” He glances up at Karen where she sits, patient and interested. 

“The married guys in my unit would bitch and moan about taking care of their kids when they were on leave, or doing dishes or some shit. And y’know, sometimes that stuff settles into you, right? So I came home once, before Kandahar, and I started complaining about having to do laundry or something, and she let me have it.” Frank shakes his head, grin wide. “God damn my life flashed before my eyes she took me down so hard. She was just merciless,” he laughs.

Karen smiles. “Sounds like she could keep up with you.”

“Yeah. More than.” It’s quiet for a minute as they both sit with their own thoughts. Frank’s the first to break it.

“M’ not saying everything was sunshine and roses, no way," He shakes his head firmly. "We both had our faults. She had trouble letting the kids be independent, and I wanted them to grow up and help their mom out. ‘Specially because I wasn’t around. I guess that was a selfish ask.”

“I don’t think so. I mean I get both sides. They’re just different.”

His hand scrapes the stubble on his face as he agrees, the sound loud in the relative quiet of the apartment. “You want another beer?” He gets up at her nod and grabs them both a bottle, frosted from the refrigerator’s chill. He opens her bottle with his own, an old party trick he learned back in recruit training that never fails to make Karen smile. She lifts a brow and holds her hand out when he can’t find an opener for his own beer, then proceeds to open it for him with a key of all things.

“I’ve been practicing,” she says with a proud smile that slams him in the chest. He sits down at the end of the couch and tugs her into him, her back against his front, her silken hair tickling him until he sweeps it away to gently lay a kiss on her neck.

Karen asks another question, her voice soft again. “Who gave the best gifts?” Frank’s surprised huff is loud in her ear.

“Not me, that’s for sure. I had to learn. She never wanted jewelry, shit like that.” His chin rests on her shoulder and he tilts his face to hers. “You sure you’re okay talking about this?”

“I want to know. She’s a part of your life.” The tense doesn’t go unnoticed, nor does her brief kiss to his lips, silencing his concerns. Part of him wants to get lost in it but he can feel she’s hungry for his words, for the little things that made up his life before.

Before. God, what a small word to fit too much into. 

He thinks it over and Karen lets him, he hears her bottle lift and drop, the slosh of liquid and the displacement of air. 

Before. Before grief so strong that the only recourse was rage. Before he let himself become The Punisher. He tenses up and Karen places a gentle kiss on his cheek. He slows the thoughts from spiraling, for her. It takes him a few moments to center himself as the living room clock that he swears he's going to find a way to secretly throw out one day ticks loudly, resolutely.

“Y’know that whole thing, not that Women are from Mars shit but the other self-help thing. Uhhh,” he lifts his head from her shoulder and takes a swig. “Your love language, yeah?” He sees her nod and continues. “Maria was an acts of service person, so it worked because that’s what I’m good at. Fix the washer, take the kids to the dentist, she could care less about gifts when it came down to it.”

“What about you, what’s your love language?” And god if the question isn’t so strange, because part of being with Karen is realizing that they haven’t known each other all that long, the moments stretching out like hours through the violence were just that.

“Touch, for one.” He nuzzles into her neck again, as if to illustrate the point. “I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. After they died, that was the hardest, I think. To know I’d never be able to wrap my arms around her, around the kids.” His chest constricts; his heart knows it will never not hurt, same as his head.

She sits up and turns in his arms. “I should be the one asking if you’re okay.”

He blinks once, twice. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Because he knows this is part of the after.

After. He met Karen in the space between, he knows that now, just as he knows she's the one that stretched the moment out, turned time on its head, helped him have this. He smiles and Karen looks at him curiously, her eyes bright and warm. After. Yeah. That word can't hold it all either.

He pulls her into his arms, arms that cross over her back more than they did with Maria. Karen feels different and he’s glad for it. Doesn’t want to confuse the two, ever. Feels disrespectful to both of them. His voice is a little more broken than he intended when he speaks again. 

“I love you. And I love her.”

“I know.”

It’s gentle and soft and everything, to the both of them.

[prythiansprincess]

*+:｡.｡ the riddle brothers being sleep token coded ｡.｡:+*

*+:｡.｡ MATTHEO ｡.｡:+*

you’re gonna tell me tmbte isn’t about mattheo?

my, my, those eyes like fire i’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre come now bite through these wires i’m a waking hell and the gods grow tired

and I don’t know what’s got its teeth in me, but i’m about to bite back in anger. no amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.

vessel wrote the summoning from mattheo's horny pov he told me so himself

you’ve got my body, flesh and bone. the sky above, the earth below. nothing to say and nowhere to go. a taste of the divine.

oh and my love, did I mistake you for a sign from god? or are you really here to cast me off? or maybe just to turn me on.

cause these days, I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t wish that I could be your man or maybe make a good girl bad.

don't even get me started on sugar !!!

do you wanna see how far it goes? do you wanna test me now, my love? you must be crazy if you think that I will give in so easily.

I know, I know, I am what I am. the mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb. so darling, will you saturate?

*+:｡.｡ TOM ｡.｡:+*

ten year old me seeing thomas marvolo riddle appear in the chamber of secrets for the first time:

who made you like this? who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?

won’t you come and dance in the dark with me? show me what you are, I am desperate to know. nobody better than the perfect enemy. digital demons make the night feel heavenly.

I can offer you a blacklit paradise. diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky.

euclid is so tom fight me on this

yet in reverse, you are all my symmetry, a parallel I would lay my life on so if your wings won’t find you heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone.

the whites of your eyes turn black in the low light in turning divine and we tangle endlessly like lovers entwined I know for the last time you will not be mine so give me the night.

the PAIN and ANGST it's giving tommy I fear

and we are exhausted by all this pretending, we just can’t resist the violence and you need the melody, I only need the silence.

somewhere the atoms stopped fusing. i’m still your favorite regret; you’re still my weapon of choosing.

yeah goodbye I don't even want to talk about this last line

I want to be forgiven. I want to choke up chunks of my own sins even if the sky cracks in the morning and the heavens just won’t open for me.

in conclusion, the riddles 🤝 sleep token = sexy self-loathing and slutty poetic lyricism