#and not many of the other dogs are willing to even stay long enough to risk being hurt by him

[iknowthoughidontknow]

In TTTE, do you have any shippings?👀

A few :) I like Thomas x Percy, a lot, OTP forever, I love it in so many flavors and ways. I do have a few other ships for the both of them but this one is S+ tier and will always overtake their other ships. Also in S+ tier is Molly x Emily. I love my girls and currently they're the couple I've drawn the most so clearly, love them. I should draw them more really. Nia x Rebecca is also a favorite of mine, and Diesel 10 x Belle, and Hong-Mei x Ashima, and Daisy x Harvey. Not sure I'd ever ship them as "currently dating" but I love Mavis x Diesel as exes. They're on fairly good terms in my head but would burst into flames at the thought of going out again. Naturally I also love Oliver x Toad and Toby x Henrietta, they're so sinkin' cute and just classics. With the obvious ships out of the way, I do have a slight crack ship: the orange engine in China in BWBA x Yong-Bao. I hc her to be a girl engine named Qingyang and suddenly I found myself shipping her with Yong-Bao. I also have a hard time seeing Gordon as anything but straight, Henry might have a crush on him but I can't see Gordon ever being able to like him back even if he really wanted to like him back. Thus, I found I like Gordon x Caitlin. I feel like I'm forgetting some of my main couples...

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Today was hard. It was really scary, and the future feels uncertain. I had a hard talk with my sister, who had been planning to try for a baby with her husband this year, and who has decided to wait even though she's ready and excited to be a mom because even a wanted pregnancy is too risky right now. Our youngest sister was just old enough to vote for the first time in this election, and is terrified of the world she's coming into as a young Black Jewish woman. I'm scared for them, and for me, and for all of us who are in danger right now. It's scary to know that, no matter how hard today was, we're probably going to be in a much worse place as a nation a year from now. Things are going to get much worse.

But you know what else?

Today, my sister and I still laughed a lot.

When I remember the absolute fear at knowing that I need to get my passport with a correct gender marker before January, I'll also remember the people who helped me when I asked for help.

Both of the classes I taught today (I'm a phd student and mostly teach incoming Freshmen) became "what happens now?" conversations. There was a lot of sadness today, but I was also very impressed by how many of my students essentially told me they're not willing to go down without a fight. Lots of hope, too.

I was able to work on the next chapter of my fic, even though I didn't really feel like it, and making art still made me feel better. I made plans with friends who have been too busy for a while. I took my dog on a long walk, and he was still happy and soft when I petted him and still needs me around.

It feels somehow like this day has lasted forever. And I'm scared for the future. I can't help but see the world differently today, just knowing how many people voted for this, who either were in favor of or just didn't care about the rampant racism and hatred. But I'm still here, and so are you, and this is going to be fucking hard but it won't all be hard. Take your joy where you can, and do it out of spite if you have to, but do it. Stay alive to see the other side of this, yes, but also don't let it keep you from living.

[nicksbestie]

Kittens - M. Sturniolo

Summary : One specific person becomes a regular at the animal shelter you work at, always visiting the cats <3

Warnings : mentions of anxiety but nothing graphic!

Word Count : 1614

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader

A/N : i'm a sucker for baby animals and matt <3 maybe there will be a part two for this?

You have always been an animal lover.

You’d grown up in a house full of pets, so really, it was no surprise that you had ended up working in an animal shelter, taking care of all of the pets there until they found a loving home. You worked at a no-kill shelter, and you were grateful for that, because there was no way you could get attached and then have to watch them die simply because nobody had chosen them yet. You worked there because you couldn’t take them all home with you, so you would spend a ton of time with them at the shelter to show them all of the love you wished you could give them forever. You couldn’t lie, sometimes your job broke your heart, for a multitude of reasons. 

Sometimes it was because you got attached to the animals, and then they got adopted. You were of course so happy that they got a loving family, but you did wish that you could be there for them, so it was a bittersweet feeling. Other times, you watched adoption paper after adoption paper fall through, and perfectly loving animals stayed in their kennels or were returned by families who had changed their minds. Even worse was when you saw the strays and abused animals come in, mangled and dirty, sometimes badly injured, and you hated the way they flinched away from you out of fear. You always made sure to show extra love to those ones, to let them know that regardless of what had happened they were in a safe place now, even though it wasn’t a luxurious home. 

You loved getting a chance to turn these animals' lives around, to make them feel better and redirect them to a family or person that would love them for the rest of their life, and you loved how many other people showed up for them as well. There were often people who came in to donate food, toys, leashes, or even just money, knowing that they didn’t want to adopt an animal or didn’t have the capacity to take one in, but still wanted to make a difference, regardless of how small. Every donation was always appreciated so much, and really did go to very helpful results. There were also the groups of friends that came in, the occasional birthday party for some younger kids who love puppies, and those often ended in an adoption or two, which warmed your heart.

And then there were the regulars. The people who couldn’t take any animals home, but loved them too much to not come visit them. The people who were there just as often as the workers were, nearly every day, who formed bonds with the younger and older dogs, and brought the shyer ones out of their shell. You were so grateful for the regulars because they really did help in forming trust between the animals and the humans. It helped with their socialization a great deal, and it had positive effects on the animals. The only thing that occasionally wasn’t great about it was that these animals would get attached to them, and be incredibly sad when they left, or when someone else took them home, but they always ended up okay in the long run. 

The workers also connected with the regulars, and some of them even joined the volunteer group, which was a great help because there was always something to do there. It was nice to have extra pairs of hands every now and then, especially when they were always willing to do something to better the lives of the animals they loved enough to come visit multiple times a week. You knew all of the current regulars by name, but you had noticed one boy who kept coming often enough that it seemed like he was going to become a regular. And you had yet to learn his name. 

He didn’t come every day like most of the regulars did, but he was here a lot. A little too often to just be popping by. He showed up every Wednesday and Friday, normally in the afternoon, and stayed until closing. He spent most of his time with the kittens, and it was heartwarming to see someone bond with all of the new babies. New kittens came into the shelter more often than people thought, as a lot of people abandoned kittens or pregnant cats because they had become too expensive or too much work to take care of. It was just that a lot of the kittens weren’t out to the available adoption areas because they needed medical testing, checkups, vaccines, and a lot of extra care. A lot of immediate human interaction paired with a weak immune system could be a threat to their health.

On the days that there weren’t kittens out, because they did get adopted very quickly, this boy would go see the puppies first. He seemed to be a cat lover, but he also seemed to like the younger animals, like most people. If there weren’t a lot, or they were playing with other people, he would find an older animal, whether that be a cat or dog, and spend the rest of his time with them. One thing you noticed was that it didn’t matter what he was doing with the pet. The pet could be ignoring him, too anxious or shy, (you noticed he always sat with the fearful ones), and he would simply sit with it and wait, offering treats, pets, and if they didn’t want to sit next to him, he would scroll on his phone and let them come to him. He seemed to have a special connection with the vulnerable pets, and you wondered what that said about him.

The biggest thing that you noticed about him was that he never smiled when he was coming in. He would wave, look up, nod, something like that, acknowledge the people at the front desk being there. Sometimes you were the one checking people in, but he never smiled. Not until he was sitting down with an animal in a short vicinity of him, and you noticed that he smiled the biggest when he was sitting on the floor with a pet in his lap. He never smiled when he was walking in, because sometimes you could see him getting out of his car, never as he was checking in, but he did as soon as he was with an animal, and he always left looking a lot lighter than when he came in. He always left the building smiling. 

He had come in for three weeks in a row before you ever said a word to him, and the first thing you said to him was a simple “Welcome back.” He snapped his head up at this, looking confused, as if he hadn’t realized that he had been perceived coming in so often. And maybe by most of the employees, he hadn’t been, but you made it a habit to notice people, even the people who looked like they didn’t want to be noticed. He gave you his usual nod, before moving towards the door to the Cat Cottages. Unfortunately, that day, the kittens had been moved to a different room so that the normal room could be deep cleaned, so you let your coworker cover the front desk and followed him, tapping him on the shoulder just as he reached the door to the cat rooms. He spun around, a seemingly shocked look on his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you! I just wanted you to know that the cats have been moved today.”

He looked confused, simply staring at you blankly. 

“Sorry. I was just telling you because you always go to the cats first, so I figured I would save you having to turn around.”

He was still blankly staring at you but this time he spoke.

“You noticed I always go to the cats first.” 

You nodded, listening.

“Yes. I do. You always come here first.” 

“I didn’t think you’d noticed. I mean, I notice you when I come in, but I always assumed that you saw so many people per day that you didn’t have time to notice anyone else.”

You smiled brightly at him, hoping to help him feel more comfortable.

“I always notice our regulars.”

“Do I qualify as a regular?” 

 “You show up on the same two days every week, always in the afternoon, for the past month and a half. I think that falls under regular territory. Now, would you like me to show you where the cats are today?” 

He broke a smile for the first time, the first time you’d ever seen him smile before getting to visit with the cats.

“Yes, please.”

As you walked down the hallway to the holding room that the cats were in today, you learned that the boy’s name was Matt, and he opened up a little bit to you. He told you that he came to visit with the animals because they help a lot with his anxiety.

“They really seem to bond with you. It seems like they really do love you. You have one of those souls.” 

He laughed, sitting down and smiling as a kitten stepped into his lap, pushing its head into his hands.

“You can tell what kind of soul I have?” 

“I don’t need to know you well to know that.”

As you motioned to the animals surrounding you both, you smiled at him, and he smiled right back up.

“Their judgment tells me everything I need to know.”

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[bokettochild]

Random Legend Headcanons that haunt my brain at stupid hours <3

He has a big sweet tooth, but less so for sugary things and mostly more for fruits

greatest seemingly "irrational" fear is dogs, he has never liked them even since childhood, and the only dog he can stand is the old sheepdog his grandparent's kept to keep track of the goats

Sky is his favorite. Sky is real with him and doesn't dismiss him as an asshole = automatic favorite. They also share a lot in common

he and Sky like gossiping when no one is paying attention to them. Not about the other heroes necessarily, they just both find it fun

oral stims: he likes his hands free, but chewing/sucking on things helps him focus better and stay calm. He refuses to admit how many times he's found himself chewing on his medallions

he loves puzzles. You'd think he'd gotten enough of them in his adventures, but nope! Hes been doing this long enough that going WITHOUT puzzles to solve actually makes him feel bored. He likes the challenge of it, it keeps his brain ticking

history nerd. A lot of Hyrule's culture/history/tradition was lost because the people were just trying to survive after Ganon killed the hero, so Legend really likes trying to hunt down the pieces of the past to put together what it was like. It's a big puzzle for him, and he loves talking about it if he feels he'll actually be listened too

he knits. He doesn't know many patterns, but he knows some basic stitches and the repetition calms him down

good at most needlework, sucks at embroidery. He likes it, it's just too stressful for him. He's in awe of the fact that Sky's so good at it.

he actually loves the sea I know most writers have him scared of it, but he's got far more happy memories than bad ones, so while it's bittersweet, he still enjoys being near the water (as log as it's not storming)

hates lightning storms with a passion. Storms in general make his arthritis worse, but the lightning trauma sucks a lot more

actually enjoys light rain showers. it still effects his pain levels, but not super bad, and it's worth it to him

has the most un-attractive laugh ever. He tends to snort and cackle like a madman. He does have a "polite laugh" but it's far less genuine.

he CAN cook, he just doesn't care to. Food is an annoying requirement and necessity for him most of the time, and more of a chore than he's willing to admit

he has the biggest soft spot for kids, partially because of Gully, partially by nature

the most susceptible to Baby Therapy (the effect of feeling at peace, content, happy, or relief while holding a small child) Ulli figured this out early on and now abuses it.

he loves stargazing. Stars are a constant no matter where he goes and they're like old friends (got this from the manga)

he's an artist and a perfectionist, his preferred medium is paints, but he does carry a sketchbook

loves physical contact, but is hesitant about others boundaries, so he rarely initiates or maintains it

I have more, but yeah, this is getting pretty long :')

[akanesheep]

What pet would they give MC:

Lucifer:

Lucifer wouldn’t just gift them a pet, but that pet requires the ability of homing and caring. He would gift them an aviary. Attached to this aviary would be a large enclosed area with a pair of peacocks. He selected them personally, ensuring that not only were they physically beautiful, but also that their personalities meshed well together. After all, he wants to ensure that this gift, as all other gifts he gives you, are as perfect as possible.

Mammon:

Mammon would pick a pair of his young crows and assign them to you. As they are his familiars, he can keep a watch on you no matter where you are. Crows are also resourceful and able to work out how to live no matter where they are… they do like to stay in the aviary a lot, but most often they stay in the tree within your room.

Levi:

Levi know without being told that a snake is a bad idea, look what happened with Henry 1.0… so he will get you a goldfish also. And if you want, he would get you an aquarium set up for your room.

‘What? You want Lily to be in the same tank as Henry??’

Cue happy Levi noises.

Many an evening are spent watching the two goldfish swim happily together as you hold hands and cuddle.

Satan:

Come on… do I even need to say it?

You open the box to find an adorably fluffy silver furred kitten inside with a green collar. A small heart tag hangs from her neck.

‘Diana’ you read and then giggle softly. ‘You remembered?’

You had told him about your favorite show to watch as a child, which had started as a manga. He read them all with you when he managed to get a full set for your birthday.

‘Of course I did… when the owner of the cat cafe told me he had a surprise litter he offered me first choice. When I saw her I knew.’

I mean, it could have been a unicorn, technically, but unicorns are for war. (Guy Kay fans ftw) Satan wants no part of you near a battlefield, so he hasn’t even allowed you to see his own unicorn.

Asmodeus, Beel, & Belphie:

Ok, you guys don’t hate me… but these three just aren’t animal people. Like they don’t hate animals at all… but they’re the least able to truly care for animals.

For Asmo, his priorities just aren’t there. And that’s ok. He knows his limits and is responsible enough to stay in them. He’s ok with other people’s pets as long as they stay off of him. He puts a lot into every aspect of his appearance and doesn’t want to give that up. (No hate at all for him. He know what he does and doesn’t want, and not everyone wants a pet). If you asked him for a pet, he would get you one, but he has no self-interest.

Also, his ‘animal’ is a scorpion, which horrifies him, he wouldn’t give one as a pet.

For Beel, he loves animals, especially dogs… but also has a tendency to eat animals if he goes on a rampage…he would never want to put you in a situation where he would accidentally hurt your pet.

His ‘animal’ being a fly isn’t really the kind of pet anyone wants…

For Belphie: I mean, while he’d love to get you a cow to rampage through the HoL gardens and piss Lucifer off, the truth is, he just isn’t willing/able to put that kind of effort into a pet. Instead, he’ll get you a cow plushie.

Diavolo:

Our sweet demon would get you a phoenix. He finds them absolutely fascinating, and you remind him of one, the way you always rise through any troubles in your wake.

(Dragons are not pets, but they will befriend you)

Barbatos:

He has enough on his plate without adding another pet. He’ll just assign you a Little D to take care of whatever you need while he is away.

Simeon & Luke:

This angel would gift you a pair of white doves.

They don’t get along with Mammon’s crows, so don’t let them in the aviary at the same time! Luckily they tend to avoid each other. That said, these doves are super sweet, just like the angels who gave them to you

Solomon:

No. Keep this man away from the pets. His penchant for experimenting on others is already problematic at best. Lucifer banned him from the aviary after he turned one of the peacocks into an owl and turned a crow into a mouse… it got really crazy for a few minutes.

This man is the pet, good luck us.

Hope you liked it, I wanted to keep this one light hearted.

I’m thinking of doing some more song vids, let me know what you think?

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Badge Bunny Part IV

Masterlist here!

Summary: When it all becomes too much, you're ready to leave Lehigh behind but Gator has other plans in mind.

18+ Only! MDNI!

Warnings: Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Minimal use of Y/N. ANGST!!! Gun use mentioned for protection. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Tad bit of size kink. Creampie.

Word Count: 6.4K

You watched him leave, with tears clouding your vision as they began to roll hot down your cheeks. It felt like a stone sat deep within the pit of your stomach.

It was for the best. At least, that's what you keep telling yourself, while your head and heart are at odds with each other.

He was always stuck in limbo. Never fully present with you even when he was home. At Roy's beck and call any and all hours of the day. It made your heart ache knowing he would never be truly yours.

It surprised you when he hadn't fought back, accepting the finality of it without a single protest.

He'd left that morning and seemingly hadn't looked back.

After spending most of the day in bed in and out of consciousness, with your body thoroughly spent of its tears you trudged your way into the kitchen. Your eyes scanning the living room right away, as if they were drawn there.

He'd cleaned up while you had been sleeping that morning, even going as far as cutting out the carpeting that held those wine-colored stains. A fresh wave began to sting and build at your lash line at the thought of him trying to clear any reminders, as if it would somehow erase what happened all together.

It would be the first night of many that the loneliness was almost unbearable. The house was far too quiet.

Every little sound puts you on edge. He'd left his spare gun, so you moved it to your bedside. It had even crossed your mind to go to the pound and pick up a big dog for security mostly, but you'd also have someone in the house.

Nights were when the walls started to press in around you. Anxiety at its highest. Reliving all those moments over and over again. It was enough to drive someone mad.

You didn't want to go back to work, Henry understood and told you to take all the time you needed. Your job would still be there when you were ready. You also knew you couldn't stay unemployed for long.

Maggie came over a couple of times to check on you. Her hard exterior melted at the first sight of your swollen eyes and bruises barely beginning to heal, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You were waiting for that “I told you so” that never came. She didn't mention Gator, which was a first, always having something to say about him or his father. You were grateful for the mindless chatter and town gossip instead.

She'd brought you enough groceries that you didn't need to leave the house for a few days, but you were growing stir crazy.

When you'd finally made the decision to get out it was a breath of fresh air. The house was beginning to feel stuffy and small as you got that caged in feeling thrumming through your veins.

The next day you went back to work, opting for the morning shifts. It was shit pay, but it was better than coming in at night. Still worrying that someone could be lurking in the dark. Ready to finish what they'd started.

Gator finally came and got the majority of his things making sure to avoid you, doing it while you were away. You weren't sure how he knew you wouldn't be home. He hadn't reached out, but you knew he had ways of finding everything out in this town.

Your heart ached when you saw the now bare side of his closet. Drawers emptied of their contents. The finality of it hitting you with a magnitude you weren't expecting. You willed yourself not to start crying again.

That very moment you decided you were leaving Lehigh.

It's been two weeks since you last saw Gator Tillman.

You'd finally began to work nights, keeping that gun in your purse for added peace of mind. Pulling doubles as much as possible, saving every penny you can scrounge up. It still doesn't seem to be adding up as quickly as you would like.

It's been a slow morning, when you notice Andy walking through the door, not missing the way he tried to avoid looking directly at you when he sits himself at his usual booth.

You sighed to yourself as you headed over, grabbing him a drink before doing so.

“Hey Andy,” you tried to sound chipper, but you weren't even fooling yourself. Sitting his drink and a menu down in front of him.

“Hey Y/N. How ya’ been?” He asked, with a kind smile.

“Uh, I guess about as good as one could… after… all that.” Waving dismissively.

“I'm sorry. That was a dumb question. I…”

“No, Andy. It's ok.” Placing your hand to his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

No one ever asked about it. You wished someone would say something to get it out of the way, but they never did. Instead, looking at you like a fragile piece of glass.

“You wanna look over the menu or you know what you want?”

He ordered his usual. You knew he wouldn't have come here by himself. He never came in here before you and Gator got together. Gator dragging him here at least once a week while on shift just to see you for lunch.

You made more menial small talk, checking on him here and there.

Before he left you made sure to catch him.

“You can tell Gator I'm fine. And if he's so worried about me he can come talk to me himself.”

He didn't try to deny it, simply nodding his head smirking as he went.

“See ya later, Y/N. Stay safe.”

-

Being completely honest with yourself, you hadn't slept well since that night. A glass of wine quickly turned into a bottle before bed to fall asleep. It didn't help the bags under your eyes, but it took your mind off the pain for a little while. Relaxing you enough to coax your mind into a few hours of rest.

You'd been stocking up at the grocery store each time you went and today would be no different. You made the trek, leaving work at a normal time.

Henry could see your exhaustion and told you to take the night off. Well, more like ordering you to.

You hadn't realized when you left the house, you'd grabbed one of Gator's old hoodies instead of your own, but it would have to do for a quick trip.

Opting for a basket instead of a cart would make it a quick in and out. You browsed the frozen food section picking out a couple of things then heading straight for the wine aisle grabbing a couple of bottles of rosé.

You turned the corner, bumping full force into someone.

“Fuck,” you hissed out steading yourself against a broad chest, looking straight up into hazel eyes that you knew all too well.

“Gator, what the fuck?” He had a hold on your basket, making sure it hadn't fallen from your grasp.

“Sorry Bun… Y/N.” He blurted out, while his eyes roamed over you. He noticed his hoodie immediately, making a small smile creep up on him that was quickly wiped away by your disheveled appearance.

Bags are starting to form under your eyes. The bruise on your cheek is a distant memory now. The cut above your lip is nearly healed but will leave a scar. A small, taunting reminder that this is all his fault.

He'd had a couple of buddies watch you from time to time. His way of trying to keep you safe. Andy had relayed your message earlier today. You were smart he knew you'd see right through him when he stopped by.

He finally realizes the death grip he still had on your basket when you looked up at him with your signature, “what the fuck are you doing?” expression.

He let go and took a step back. Giving you the out he knows you'll take.

“I'm actually glad I ran into you.” You spoke, not meeting his direct gaze, looking back down to the basket not containing much of anything but the alcohol you planned to down for the evening.

“You are?” He perked up at that, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Uh, yeah.” Willing yourself to meet his eyes. “You need to tell your goons to back off. I'm fine. I don't mind Andy so much, but I don't need whatever you're trying to do.”

You weren't fine. You both knew it.

He scoffs. “I… what're you talking about?”

“Come on Tillman.” Titling your head up at him, leveling him with a sharp stare. “That savior complex you've got for me. Plus, you're a terrible liar. It's written all over your face.”

He snapped his mouth shut, gaze falling away from you, and finally noticing the wine. He didn't say anything, it would only make it worse, but you didn't drink. Not like that. And from what he's heard from one of his friends you came by the store daily for it.

“I just worry about you.” He said it so low; you almost missed it.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” He asked, but when you stayed silent it told him all he needed to know.

“I've got to go. Just… just back off. Please.” You quickly shuffled toward the front, trying not to watch the crestfallen look on his face. You glanced back once you made it to the register, but he was already gone.

As the days went on, you realize that even the doubles weren't getting you enough to move from Lehigh as quickly as you wanted.

An idea struck a couple of days prior, something Maggie had mentioned when you first got into town. The prospect became more and more alluring with each passing day.

You were stuck and it seemed like the most logical thing to do.

Henry was sad to see you go but he understood. Everyone understood. He was surprised you'd stayed around this long with everything that went down.

“I'm sorry, Henry. I just need to get out of here. It pays the bills but not enough to get me out of town.” Laying it all out on the line, giving him your notice.

“Hey kid, don't be sorry. It's ok.” He hugged you. You'd come to see Henry as a fatherly figure. He often rolled his eyes at your antics but always had a listening ear when you needed it.

“Just take care of yourself.” He added.

“Of course! I've made it this far on my own.” You grinned, leaving behind your apron.

You were headed across town to see a man about a different kind of job.

Gator stomped through the door of the Lucky Lizard a couple of days later, a man on a mission.

Henry spotted him as soon as he came barreling in, sighing to himself.

“Where is she?” Asking in a huff.

“Gator, nice to see you too.”

“Don't fuck with me right now. I know she quit her job two days ago. Where is she?” He fixed him with a pointed glare.

“Why don't you ask her yourself?” He turned away from him, grabbing a fresh beer for someone at the end of the bar.

“Because she doesn't want to talk to me. But I need to know she's safe. At least give me that. I know she talks to you.”

“Uh… that's a kicker now. Safe? I'm not so sure but I know she doesn't need you causing an uproar.” He was hesitant, mulling it over. Watching the younger man's expression turn a little more rigid. He was already mad; this would probably send him over the edge.

“Gator, now don't be a dumbass about this, but I know she went for a chat with Jeremy Nash.”

He felt like someone poured ice water over him. Anything but that.

“Fuck.” He hissed. Henry called after him, but it was too late. He was already out the door.

You weren't new to this kind of job, moonlighting as a cocktail waitress a few years ago, but you'd never taken the plunge to actually be an entertainer.

You'd gotten hired on the spot by Jeremy to start the weekend shift, luckily giving you a couple of days to prepare.

You arrived early. He showed you the grand tour giving you a locker and a vanity to get ready at.

The other girls looked at you with disdain and jealousy as soon as you walked in. Seeing you as nothing more than fresh meat and competition to take their money.

They chatted amongst themselves, not so much as a word toward you as they quickly got dressed and left you alone in the dressing room.

“Nice welcome,” muttering to yourself as you continued getting things out of your bag to get ready.

As you were finishing your eye liner, Jeremy came bustling into the room.

“Looking good! Ready to make some dough? You're up next.” He stated enthusiastically, eyes trailing your exposed skin, as if he didn't see tits and ass every day. He was a little sleazy but nice enough.

You were about to go on stage at The Tender Trap.

The only strip joint within 100 miles and it just so happened to be close to Lehigh.

“Uh, sure.” You put on your best fake smile and stood.

“Wow, you look great. What's the stage name again?”

“Ugh, Bunny.” Holding up those bunny ears you'd had stored away in the closet back at home for emphasis. Going with all black, fishnets with thigh high boots, you'd only have white ears. Your body suit covering you until it would be time to remove it. Nothing underneath, leaving those fishnets, making you feel a little less exposed.

He grinned, nodding his head “it fits.”

It felt a little wrong to use the name. But you had the outfit right down to the ears and tail, might as well use it to your advantage. Guys go crazy for that stupid Playboy bunny persona.

He led you to the backstage, curtains drawn as another girl was finishing up.

The bass of the music thumping through you. Doing absolutely nothing to quell the jitters you had.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a special newcomer. Everyone give it up for Bunny!” The DJ came over the loudspeaker as Wicked Games by the Weeknd started to play. It was your cue.

Your hand slightly trembled as you pulled the curtain back. Stepping out into the small spotlight, temporarily blurring your vision.

You smiled at a couple of men to your right as you took a few more steps to the center, hips swaying with the song.

There were some whistles and shouts that spurred your confidence. You continued to look around the stage as you slowly walked forward.

Your smile dropped when you locked eyes with a familiar figure. He stuck out like a sore thumb at the end of the stage, as he loomed over the other men.

His arms were crossed over his chest, staring you down, feeling the heat of his gaze from across the room. You froze for a moment before regaining your composure.

He tilted his head as if daring you to continue, eyes dark and zeroed in on you.

You tilted your head toward him and placed your hand around the pole to go ahead with your routine. His presence be damned.

It was then he jumped the edge of the tip rail, much to the grumbles and protests of the other men surrounding you, shedding his jacket as he stalked over.

“What the fuck, Gator?” You yelled, as he held the jacket up around you, pushing you back toward the curtain.

“I don't fuckin' think so Bunny. Let's go.”

With your heels you were nearly nose to nose with him, standing firm, you just stared him down.

“No.” You spat.

“Hey!” Both of your heads shot toward a very angry Jeremy Nash storming your way.

“Get the fuck off my stage! You entitled fuckin’ prick. Your father doesn't own this place Tillman.”

Gator rolled his eyes then narrowed his gaze back to you.

“Gator, just get the fuck down!” You yelled, pushing his chest but he hardly budged.

Jeremy reached the edge of the stage, pushing himself up and over, grabbing Gator’s arm momentarily knocking him off balance.

It all happened so fast. Once Jeremy grabbed him, he'd turned quickly, his fist meeting the other man's nose with an audible crunch that could be heard above the music.

He grabbed his face with a groan and started backing away immediately, yelling for you both to get the fuck out as blood poured down his mouth.

Without a second thought Gator turned back toward you, bending down, throwing an arm around your waist, and in one fluid motion hoisted you up over his shoulder.

“Gator Tillman! Put the me the fuck down right now!” He ignored your protests, as you kicked your feet and pawed at his back.

“Quit it, Bunny. No girl of mine is working at a place like this.” He placed you back on the ground once you'd reached the dressing room.

The other girls gawked and cursed at the both of you before practically running over each other to get out the door.

When he rose up, you reared back and smacked him across the cheek.

"In case you forgot, I'm not your fucking girl." You hissed.

He wasn't shocked but he slowly released a breath through his nose before speaking.

“Get your shit. You can scream, yell and slap me all you want in the fuckin' truck but your comin’ with me.”

There was no point in arguing, you knew as much but at least you could let him know how you felt about it.

You gathered your belongings, tossing his jacket back at his chest and pulling a hoodie over yourself. Moving to the back door without saying a word, you let yourself out into the cool night.

You spotted his truck and got in, slamming the door making him wince.

He hauled himself into the driver's seat and started it, easing out of the parking space.

“You fucking humiliated me in there.”

“You’ll live.” He sighed. “As if you weren't about to humiliate yourself.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? At least it's honest work, unlike what you and your goddamn daddy get up to. And don't play dumb Tillman, I don't know everything, but I know enough.”

You crossed your arms and stared out the window as he kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. You expected him to snap back but he didn't say anything which only infuriated you further.

He wasn't the strong silent type; you can tell he was holding back. He'd throw his own tantrums, ending with you two clashing because you were so much alike.

“Goddamnit Gator you can't do this to me. We aren't together. You can't barge back into my life when you think I need saving. It doesn't fucking work like that!”

He slammed on the brakes, making you jolt forward and quickly pulled off to the side of the road throwing it in park.

“I can and I will! Especially when you end up in some shit hole like that! What the fuck were you thinking?” Sounding more disappointed than angry.

"I was thinking I can get enough money to finally leave this fucking hell on earth you call home behind because I don't want to be here anymore! That's what I was thinking. Anywhere is better than here. I won't have to see you, or your fucking bat shit crazy dad anymore.”

"Bunny," he tries.

"No, stop Gator. I'm not… you don't get to call me that anymore. Just drive me home. I'm done.”

He stares at your profile for a moment before releasing a heavy sigh, pulling back out into the highway. Neither of you bother speaking for a while until his calm voice cuts through the silence.

“You should leave, you know. Get out of Lehigh, hell out of the state. Get as far away from here while you still can.”

You were stunned. You'd expected him to beg and plead for you to stay, not this. Something was going on with him. You watched him concentrating on driving, but he was chewing his bottom lip.

“Is… is that what you want?” He didn't immediately answer, instead he pulled back off the road to give you his full attention, turning to face you in his seat.

“Of course that's not what I want, but if it means you'll be safe from… from all of this shit, then yes. Leave for your own good.” His eyes never left yours. You could see he was fighting his own emotions. “I love you, Bunny. I'll always fuckin’ love you until the day I die. It's just not safe.”

You could tell something was there. He wanted to tell you more.

“You… you could just come with me?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes, tears forming at your lash line threatening to spill. “Please? We could leave tonight. Somewhere no one knows us. Somewhere no one would find us.”

“Baby, I… I can't. I…” he reached out to touch you, but you quickly flinched out of his reach.

“No. This is exactly why we broke up. What the fuck was I thinking?” You laughed out, salty tears now flowing freely dripping from your chin.

He'd had enough of seeing you cry. He didn't know what else to do.

“Bunny, look at me.” His voice was stern, pulling you from your current spiraling thoughts, as he placed his hands on your cheeks. The pads of his thumbs wiping away your tears as you nuzzled into the tender touch.

“Fuck it,” he hissed. Quickly surging forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You pulled back, your hand meeting his cheek harshly. Slapping him before you realized what you'd done.

He nodded, pulling his lip between his teeth before releasing a harsh breath.

“I'm sorry… I…” you began, grabbing his collar, pulling him back and pressing your lips back to his, pushing him further back into his seat, swinging your leg around so you could straddle him.

It was messy, full of want. Tongue and teeth. Pushing and pulling at one another.

“It's okay baby, just… just take it out on me.” He mumbled, between kisses.

His hands found your hips, fingertips catching the holes of your fishnets. His touch setting you on fire as he pushed you down onto the tent already forming in his pants. Guiding you to grind against him, as you both moaned out.

“Fuck, I missed you.” You rasp out, as his lips begin trailing down your jaw, finding that juncture right below your ear, sucking a little harshly before soothing it with his tongue.

His hands trail up, pushing the hoodie up, until your barely clothed chest is on display. Squeezing your breasts in his large hands had his hips bucking up into yours. Already so eager to be inside of you.

“Fuck Bunny.” He leans back to take another look at you, slowly appraising your outfit. “I think ya’ need a reminder of who you belong to. Ya’ can't be showin’ everyone this. It's f’me. All f’me.”

“We weren't together.” Rolling your eyes, knowing it would get a rise out of him.

“Don't care.” He pulls the cups of your body suit down haphazardly, as you hear the fabric tear beneath his rough grip. “You're mine.”

“Gator!” Protesting that quickly turns into a moan, as soon as his plush lips meet your chest, sucking harshly at your nipple while he pinches and rolls the other between his finger and thumb.

He pulls off with a pop, smug grin plastered across his face.

“What was that sweet thing?”

“Oh, fuck you,” you hiss, with no real malice behind your words.

“Don't worry baby. We’ll get to that.”

You roll your eyes again, reaching a hand down to palm his very now prominent erection, eliciting a small moan cutting through his cocky demeanor.

“What's wrong baby?” Looking at him with your best doe eyed expression. “You miss me that bad?”

“You know I fuckin’ did.” He grits out, closing his eyes a moment before his hand wraps around the back of your neck pulling you down into another heated kiss.

Your hands quickly get to work as you ease back, reaching for and unlatching his belt buckle, undoing his pants and reaching in, finding him hot and heavy as you pull him free from his boxers.

Your thumb collects the precum from his slit, dragging it back down the length of his velvety shaft, as you swallow his stuttered moan.

You pull back slightly, his bottom lip between your plush ones, sucking before letting it pop back into place. You take the opportunity to catch him off guard, letting a string of saliva slip between your lips landing on the head of his cock.

“Fuck, Bunny.” He rasps out, hips pushing his dick further into your hand, searching for more friction.

He pulls at the hem of your hoodie, pulling it up and discarding it quickly onto the floor, as your hand comes back to languidly stroke him.

“Baby, please. If you keep that up, I'm gonna cum. I need you.” He didn't let you answer before his fingers slid the side of your body suit over. Bare save for your tights.

His fingertip grazes your clit as you throw your head back. He growled when the fabric caught, restricting his movements and further access.

You knew what he was thinking when he smirked up at you but before you could say anything to stop him, he pulled at the fabric, ripping it at the seam.

“Gator! What the fuck!” You hissed, before his fingers found your slit, sliding down catching at your entrance.

“I'll buy you a new pair. Promise.” You nodded, closing your eyes at the feeling, you ceased your ministrations gripping onto his shoulders for purchase. He circled your entrance, gathering slick before sliding back to your puffy clit. Relief flooded your veins as he began rubbing circles against you.

“More. I need more.” You moaned out, your cunt aching to be filled.

“Ride my fuckin’ cock then. S’all yours baby.” He said, gripping himself at the base and slapping it back against your bare pussy.

You raised up, allowing him to line himself up with your weeping entrance. As soon as his head breaches slightly, you grip his cheeks pulling his face up.

Maintaining eye contact as you slowly sank down around him. You relished in the stretch and slight sting, as he splits you open.

Pleasure begins taking over as your eyes start to roll back, releasing the grip on his face, bracing yourself against his chest. Your jaw went slack, as another wanton moan fell from your lips.

You slide down easily, inch by inch, feeling every vein and ridge as he fills you from beneath.

Your ass finally came to rest on his thighs, with his cock filling you to the brim.

He takes your palm and pushes it against your lower stomach.

“You feel me in there baby? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am?” You feel the bulge from where his cock is nestled within you, making your pussy flutter around him. “No one else could fuck ya’ that deep. Huh?”

“No… mmm… fuck, baby. God, I've missed you.” You breathed out, as you started to bounce, giving you both much needed relief.

“Yeah Bunny. That's it. Shit you feel so fuckin’ good. Missed this pussy. Missed you.” His eyes watch your tits bounce with the movement, as his hands grip your waist, helping raise your hips when you slow down just a bit.

Your bouncing begins to slow to a rhythmic grind, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit with each pass as heat starts to pool in your lower belly.

“Keep going baby, I know your fuckin' close. I'm gonna… fuck… gonna fill my fuckin' pussy up.” He grabs your cheeks roughly, as your eyes pop open to look at him.

“Tell me baby. Whose pussy is this? Huh? Who do you belong to?” He growled out, holding you still as he begins to piston his hips, fucking up into you.

“You… it's yours… Gator! Fuck!” You scream out.

“Yeah? All mine baby…mmm…play… play with your clit f’me. I want you to cum with me Bunny.”

He watches intently as you hand trails lower, finding your aching clit as he continues to fuck you from below.

“That's it baby. Feels good, huh?” Coming out a little mocking.

“Ugh… yes… feels so fuckin' good. I'm gonna cum all over your cock.” Your fingertip glides over your nub, feeling that electricity licking up your spine.

“Yeah baby? Gonna cum f’me?” Watching his length move in and out of you creating a creamy ring at the base, a mixture of both his and your arousal nearly sending him over the edge.

“Yesssss baby. Fuck…” His cock continues to nudge that sweet spot within you with every upward thrust.

You grasp his shoulders as your orgasm begins to wash over you, dragging you under with a blinding force.

“Baby, I'm cumming… I'm… ahhh…” It was all consuming, your pussy clenches around him like a vice, as those sparks began to flicker behind your eyelids. Your legs trembled as you writhed atop him.

“That's it, sweet thing. My tight, little…mmm… pussy is grippin’ me so fuckin' good.” He continues to push into you from below, as you try to come back to yourself.

“Cum… cum in me baby.” Your voice comes out shaky, as his cock twitches at your words.

“That what you want? Huh? I'm gonna fill this pussy full.” He grips your hips with a bruising force, pushing you down onto him, somehow impossibly deeper as he begins to cum.

You wrap your arms around his neck, as your hips grind down, working him through his own release. Your pussy milking him of every last drop. His face was turned upward, jaw going slack at the feeling as he breathes out a heavy moan. You loved the fact that only you ever got to see him like this.

“Fuck, Bunny. Baby… stop… I…” His fingers tighten on your hips, halting your movements.

You both still, foreheads resting together, chests heaving trying to catch your breath.

You looked into those lovesick eyes that you've missed so much. Unsure of what to say. Unsure of where this left the two of you.

You slowly lifted yourself from his lap, as he slid from you, you quickly moved off and tried to cover yourself. Your tights were in shambles and your top was ripped. You pulled the hoodie from the floor and pulled it back over you.

He sighs, watching you as he stuffs himself back into his pants.

“No matter what I fucking do I can't stop. I still fucking love you, Gator.” You were transfixed on the window, gaze on nothing in particular. He lets those words wash over him. He never wanted it to go this way.

“I’m sorry. For everything. For not being there. For not protecting you. I should have goddamn been there instead of working that night.” You look over at him with tears in your eyes at the pain and regret emanating from his words. You know he blames himself for what happened.

“I know you're sorry but…” you closed your eyes, trying to steady your thoughts into words. “It's not your fault, Gator.”

You reach your hand out, placing it on his and squeezing gently.

“Bunny, I can't go back to pretending we don't give a shit about each other. I'm moving back home.” He fixed you with a serious gaze. Giving you no room for discussion or arguing.

“And there are going to be some nights I get home late, maybe not until morning.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and gave a reassuring squeeze. “You have to trust me when I say I am doing this for both of us.”

“You aren't going to tell me what's going on?” Your voice trembled.

“Bunny, I can't. Just please, trust me. It's all going to be okay.” There was something in the way he said it so reassuringly and unwavering.

“I trust you, Gator. I love you.” The words came out as you reached over wrapping your arms around his neck hugging him tightly to you.

“I love you, Bunny.”

In the following days, he moved his things back home as you both fell back into routine.

He rolled in some late nights, but you didn't ask any questions. He would come home and crawl into bed, pulling you into him, just like tonight.

You'd heard him enter, as a small smile crept at the corners of your lips when his arm wound around your waist with his warm chest to your back. His face buried into your neck, freshly washed hair tickling at your cheek as he sighed heavily.

“You awake baby?” He whispered, lips grazing your skin.

“Yeah, can't sleep until you get home.” He smiled at your admission but his heart aches all the same.

“I have to leave early in the morning.” He kisses your shoulder before continuing. “Whatever happens, I love you.”

You knew better than to ask what he meant. You just closed your eyes, praying to whoever might listen that whatever tomorrow would bring he'd come back home to you.

“I love you too.” You whispered through the dark, as the two of you held each other tight.

-

True to his word, his alarm blared before the sun rose, startling you both awake.

You'd followed him to the kitchen, watching his every move. Boxers slung low in his hips with his hair messy from sleep as your eyes drank in every detail.

“Baby, you didn't have to get up with me.” He chided, back of his knuckles running across your cheek as he sat beside you on the couch.

You curled into him, wrapping your arms around his torso, as he draped his over you resting his hand on your hip.

“Wanted to be with you.” Mumbling from your position, your head resting on his chest. He chuckled into his coffee before taking a sip.

“Whatever it is, you could just stay home. You don't have to go.” You muttered, grip on his waist tightening.

“I wish I could.” He kissed the top of your head, basking in warmth and love that he'd never had from anyone before you. Never thought he would be worthy of it, if he was being honest with himself. If he could bottle this moment and take it with him, he'd never ask for anything more.

He truly loves you more than anything in the world and reminds himself that this is for you. The both of you.

You stayed close to him until he practically had to push you off of him to head out, although reluctantly.

Once he laced his boots, he wrapped his arms around you one last time as you did the same, his hand rubbed your back with his lips pressed to your temple.

“I love you Bunny, but I've got to go baby.”

You hesitantly pull away, as he gathers his vest, slipping it over his shoulders.

“Be careful. I love you.” Saying it as he took his leave. You watched from the kitchen window as his truck left the driveway, taillights disappearing down the road.

You wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so you began getting ready for your shift at the bar. Henry was more than happy to give you your old job back after Gator made it impossible to go back to the Tender Trap with his rescue mission.

It was one of those days that he didn't text very much which usually meant it was a Roy’s business kind of day, always leaving you on edge.

Your shift was going smoothly, which seemed to improve your mood. You checked your phone at break to find a missed call from Gator.

He'd left a voicemail, that you immediately began to play.

“Hey Bunny, I know you're working but I wish I could have caught you. Baby, I know I've been quiet about everything and I'm sorry. Just know that whatever goes down today that I love you. I just wanted you to know that, and… (muffled background noise) shit … I've got to go.”

It caught you off guard. You sat there looking at the phone in your hand, as you swallowed a lump you hadn't realized was caught in your throat.

“What the fuck?” You breathed out.

You dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. Your heart rate kicked up with your mind visiting the worst possibilities.

You sent him a quick text hoping he would see it and put some of your worry at ease.

Baby, please call me back when you get this. I love you.

You shoved it back into your apron pocket making sure it was on vibrate making your way back into the bar.

You made your rounds checking tables, as you heard sirens approach, snapping your head up to watch five black unmarked SUVs pass by quickly headed East.

It caught the attention of the entire bar; everyone was silent for a beat as they watched.

“What the hell was that?” Henry, cutting through the quiet.

“I don't know, but it doesn't look good.” You watched them until they disappeared down the road and out of sight.

Andy burst through the door a few moments later, making a beeline straight for you. Looking a little worse for wear, color drained from his face aside from his flushed cheeks. When he'd gotten closer you noticed a cut on his left eyebrow.

“Y/N! Something's going down at the ranch. I think Roy's finally lost his goddamn mind. Feds are headed over there.” He rushed out, breathless as if he'd run all the way here.

So, this was it. His unwillingness to answer questions and sneaking around. It started to make sense. Something big went down and he's known about it, keeping you in the dark.

Gator, what the fuck have you done?

[cowgurrrl]

The Palace in Flames

Pairing: Javier Peña x CIA!reader

Author's note: okay two things 1) fuck it we ball on this timeline 2) i don't love how this turned out but I need to finish it otherwise I'm gonna stare at it for god knows how long so enjoy anyways

Summary: "I'm not a violet dog. I don't know why I bite." [3.8k]

Warnings: canonical violence and language, alcohol, a little bit of backstory, discussion of PTSD like symptoms, a touch of misogyny, canon events but slightly canon divergent timing i think

There's not a lot you can do at the scene of the car bombing. You and Javi talk to local police and take witness statements from frightened neighbors and anybody else willing to come forward with information while Steve takes pictures. From what you can tell, it looks like it was a crude C4 bomb, one of the easiest to make and detonate. All it takes is the right amount of pressure, and boom. A few unfortunate souls died right beside Jorge as they walked past, unaware of the explosion to come. A hit for one quickly turned into a hit for five. 

You're good enough at your job to recognize the fact that Steve and Javi went poking around for information about the person who ratted on you, and then a few hours later, he's dead, not even ten minutes outside of your neighborhood. Medellín is a big place. It could've been a coincidence, but you're almost certain it's not. You really hope you don't have to make good on your promise to return to the US if they go after you again. 

You, Javi, and a handful of other police officers finish with the witnesses and join Steve by the truck. All files and statements will need to go through the proper channels tomorrow, and it's too late to do anything else. You'll start fresh in the morning: follow through on the plan to send out CENTRA SPIKE to see what they can find, monitor movement, and stay vigilant. But tonight, you deserve to get a drink with your two self-appointed bodyguards.

The great thing about working at the Embassy is that everyone touts interagency cooperation and work, but in reality, you rarely want to see each other in the same place. DEA will hang out at one specific bar while CIA will go to another. You don't even want to know where soldiers and higher-ups go once the clock hits six o'clock. Every agency thinks another agency is fucking them over or doing their job wrong. Everybody wants a medal for being in Medellín and fighting the narcos and communists but rarely wants to work together. You like to think your agencies have the upper hand with the three of you being friendly and sharing information without going through official, classified paperwork. It's not the most recommended or legal way to go about it. But, you've been able to pass on valuable information Javi let slip in between rounds and shared cigarettes under the guise of a Confidential Informant.

You were friends with Javi first. He came to Colombia around the same time you did, and you worked the same hours. You did him favors, and he returned them. You learned not to ask each other too many questions and to take what you're given and hope it leads somewhere. You've gotten little victories here and there: guerillas extradited, kidnapping victims recovered safely, witnesses given protection and visas in other countries. It was nice to have someone you could rely on and bounce theories off of when the office was empty, and you two were puffing your way through a pack of cigarettes. The lines got blurry about six months in. It happened fast and without warning, and you swore it was a one-time thing. And then it happened again. And again. And again. Then, it just made sense to keep doing what you were doing instead of going through the cycle of fighting about it and giving each other the cold shoulder, only to end up fucking in his apartment before the end of the day.

Steve, however, got stuck with you. When he became Javi's partner, he was forced to know your name and seek you out in the office when he needed something. At first, he wasn't super keen about the idea of having to rely on CIA for things— something to do with that DEA machismo of not needing anything from anyone— and then he realized how good you are at your job. Once you helped them get an especially important collar, he opened up. He told you about the killing of his last partner and a little bit about his career up until this point. He practically begged you to talk to Connie when she started getting homesick and having doubts, and you came to care for her. Now, you're an inseparable trio (quartet if you count the nights Connie makes her way from the communa clinic and into the bar). 

You think Noonan knew that when she asked Steve and Javi to join the Colombian police on your recon. Something about friendly faces in an unfriendly territory. She was right. You stuck to Javi the entire ambulance ride to the hospital, and they each took turns at your bedside. Even Connie showed up to take care of you during those long few nights in the hospital. You were less willing to accept help once you were discharged, but Steve would knock on your apartment door every night and leave a covered dish on your doormat while Javi bought you groceries. You owe them a lot, though they'll never let you admit it.

Javi buys the first round to celebrate your reinstatement. He gives a brief, flattering toast to your work, and you roll your eyes but clink your glasses together anyway. You avoid talking about theories and leads in the bar, even though you probably could talk about those things in English and get away with it. Everybody already knows you work for the American Embassy. No reason to give anybody anything to report back. Instead, you talk about stupid things like Steve being unable to speak Spanish.

"I can understand a little," he tries to defend himself, and you and Javi share a knowing look. He definitely doesn't understand enough to quantify it as a little. He might pick up every tenth word and know enough commands to dole them out when he's in the field, but that southern accent anglicizes every single syllable he utters. "Alright, y'all can go fuck yourselves." He says at your silence, making you laugh.

"Don't worry about it, Murphy. Couple more years and you'll be running circles around Javi." 

"I don't know about all that, but she's right. You'll get better," Javi takes a sip of his drink. "Eventually." 

Over two more rounds, you talk about things back home, tell stupid stories, and whatever else you could think of. It's nice to see Steve and Javi acting like they kinda like each other outside of work. Lord knows they're at each other's throats most of the time. You enjoy hanging out with them, and even though you know you can handle yourself, you like feeling protected by them. Years of CIA training and undercover work don't mean shit when all people see is a woman alone at night. 

"Alright, I've gotta get home," Steve says as he drinks the rest of his whiskey and puts his cigarette out. He probably should've been home hours ago, but that's none of your business.

"Tell Connie I said hi." You say, and he smiles, nodding and mumbling a quiet "yes, ma'am." He loves her so much, even just the mention of her makes him light up. Your thought from earlier creeps up. A good man. And yet he's here, doing the same shit you and Javi are. It's a little funny how squeamish he still is about things, but you figure that's the last sign of his humanity. God, please let that linger for as long as possible. Javi takes a drag from his cigarette and blows the smoke away from your face.

"Yeah, give her a kiss for me." He says. Before Steve can even open his mouth, you smack the back of Javi's head and groan.

"Ay, Javier," you scold. "Malo, malo, malo." Javi smiles, a rare sight reserved for moments like this, as Steve bids you goodnight again and leaves the bar. The second he's out of sight, you reach over, snatch the cigarette from Javi's hands, and bring it to your lips. 

"Get your own," he grumbles, but there's no heat behind it. You roll your eyes and exhale. 

"Stealing from you is so much cheaper, though," you shrug as you hand it back to him. "You think he got suspicious when we showed up at the same time?" 

"We live down the road from each other and got the call around the same time. Even if he figured it out, he wouldn't say anything. Plus, I think your little attitude at work throws him off." He says, and you raise your eyebrows at him. 

"My little attitude?" You ask. You know he said it just to piss you off, and you hate that it's working. He smirks and you shove his shoulder, stealing the cigarette back from him. "Pinche cabrón." You mumble, and he laughs. He gets a new cigarette from his pack and lights up. A comfortable silence falls over you as you sit there, his hand finding a home on your thigh under the table. 

"So, how're you doing?" Javi asks, seemingly out of nowhere. You shrug and ash your cigarette into the half-full tray in front of you.

"'M fine." You say, and he hums. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and glances around like he's looking for something you can't see. He blows smoke away from you and leans in. 

"So, waking up screaming is fine for you?" He asks. You didn't want to talk about it when you woke up, and you especially don't want to talk about it now. You poke your tongue into your cheek in annoyance. 

"If you thought I wasn't okay, why'd you push for Noonan to clear me?"

"I didn't say I didn't think you're okay."

"Then, drop it." 

"Look, I know you wanna go all in again, but maybe you should take it slow—at least for a little while," he says, and you scoff.

"Give me a fuckin' break, Javi. Did you take it slow when you got shot?" You ask.

"Getting shot and getting kidnapped are two completely different things."

"And yet we both survived," you say, gesturing between you as proof of your survival. "The doctors wouldn't have cleared me to come back if they didn't think I was ready."

"Yeah? How much you pay 'em off for that signature?" He asks. You sigh and bite the inside of your cheek. You're not going to dignify him with a response but you so easily could. "C'mon, just... let your feet get wet again. Everyone knows you've already got the lay of the land, but they don't know that you won't freak the fuck out once you're fully back in the field. I think some of them are waitin' for it," he says. It would explain why everyone's treating you like you're a time bomb. "If you won't do it for yourself, at least do it because I'm asking you." 

"And are you asking me as a coworker or a friend?" You ask. He's staring at you in his weird Javi way: hardened brown eyes softening just enough to bring your guard down. It's not something he learned from years at the Academy or in the field. That's all him. 

"Would it make a difference?" He asks quietly. Answering a question with a question. What a cop.

"Not really." You say, and he sighs. He scrubs a hand down his face and picks up his drink, a cigarette lingering between his fingers. 

"I'm asking as someone who saw what they did to you." He says before taking a big gulp of whiskey. You haven't talked about it. Not about what he saw and knew before finding you or what exactly happened in that room over those few days. You spent hours upon hours repeating the story for doctors, depositions, agency paperwork, and even to the court-appointed psychiatrist who had to screen you before they could even let you back in the building. So, you weren't necessarily gunning for the opportunity to repeat it again when Javi asked you about it. There are only so many sympathetic looks and half-hearted reassurances one person can take.

Even though you relied on him to tether you back to earth during those first few days, he took the brunt of your emotions. You refused to answer his questions and pushed him away. "I'm just trying to help," he told you when he tried to take care of you. "Where was your fucking help when they grabbed me from the street, huh?" You snapped, exhausted and sore and a little out of your mind. It was mean and unfair. You know how hard everyone worked to find you. You know how he blames himself. You know how scared they were to find your body.

When he puts his empty glass down, you look at him and nod. You can't take back what you said, but you can soften it a little. You put your hand over his and trace the contours of his knuckles. They're a little bruised and cracked, but still a part of him. You take a deep breath and rub your thumb against his skin. 

"Okay," you concede quietly. "I'll slow down for a little while, but the second we have good intel, I'm all in again." He lets out a relieved sigh and squeezes your thigh. 

"Thank you." He mumbles. To anyone walking by, you two would look like a couple having a drink after a long day of work before going to your shared home and sleeping it off. You indulge in the thought for a second longer than you meant to before you retract your hand and reach for your drink. 

"You're gettin' soft on me, Peña." You accuse, and he chuckles.

"God forbid I wanna see you make it outta here alive." He says, and you hum as you finish the rest of your drink. His eyes stick to the corner of your lips where a few drops of tequila spilled, his thumb twitching as he stops himself from wiping them away. "What're you doing for the rest of the night?" He asks. It's an opening. An invitation to finish what he started earlier. What happened with Alemán earlier in the day must've wound him up, made him tense and in need of release. Unfortunately for him, there are few things you like more than making him sweat.

"Well, I've got a dinner I need to pack away in the fridge and dishes to clean."

"I can help."

"I don't think you can," you say as you stand and grab your jacket from the back of your chair. "Besides, I'm supposed to be taking it easy. I should probably get some rest before my first actual day back, right?" He rolls his eyes as you throw a couple of bills down on the table for your share of the drinks, and you smirk. "I'll let you walk me home, though." 

"You'll let me?" He asks, but he's already standing and pulling his own jacket over his shoulder. Like clockwork, you think.

"Figured it's the least I could do." You say, and he scoffs, swatting at your ass when he passes behind you.

"Vámonos princesa." 

You get a warm welcome back to the office by immediately getting thrown into the chaos of the CIA. A corkboard with all known names of M-19 and other communist group members looks like a serial killer's wet dream with all the notes and grainy photos that stare you down as you talk about recent developments in the jungle. Honestly, you don't care what a group of kids are doing or planning to do, but everyone else in the CIA seems to think it's the most pressing matter.

Despite what the Agency and Reagan want you to believe, you know communists are not the most dangerous group in Colombia right now. Narcos are practically running the country and ruining countless lives with their rampant murder and exploitation. So even though Lou wants to sink a billion dollars of American taxpayer money into fighting guerillas in the jungle, you have one eye on the situation with the narcos. You're just waiting for the message to come down through the ranks that it's all hands on deck for taking down Escobar. Lou knows about your indifference and exacerbates it every chance he gets.

"Agent, I want you to work with Mil Group on tracking their movement to see if there are any patterns. I want to know where they're going and what they're planning." He says, pointing to you. You give him a look and cross your arms over your chest. You hate working with Mil Group. It's a group of guys with sticks up their asses and, somehow, never see the outside of an office. You catch Javi and Steve walking by through the windows, obviously going somewhere, and you lose whatever patience you have.

"All due respect, Colonel, but Ambassador Noonan took me off of desk duty effective immediately. I think I could be of more help in another area concerning M-19." You say, and he raises his eyebrows at you. You're also not fucking boss, you think.

"I'm sure we can find the time for you to show us how big and bad you are another time, sweetheart, but right now, this is where you're ordered to go." The nickname is abrasive in your ears, and you want to correct him, demanding your title as Agent, but Javi's words ring in your ears. They're waiting for you to freak out so they can send you home. They're waiting for you to blow up on somebody for a small thing. They want you to fail. You sigh and bite your tongue. 

"Yes, sir." You say before making your way to the Jarheads. 

For being off of desk duty, you still feel like you're doing mind-numbing work. All you're doing is plotting points on a map where satellite phones have pinged off of cell towers in an attempt to triangulate where they might be hiding out. Considering how there are barely any cell towers that reach that deep into the jungle, and even if they did, the calls drop after about thirty seconds, you don't have a ton of riveting information to work with. You listen to the recorded, half-legible calls and translate what you can to another agent, but nothing suggests they're planning anything. If they are, they're keeping it off your radar.

After wasting a stupid amount of time doing that, Lou draws up a bigger map and makes you replot all the points down with an estimate of where they might be. You're not CENTRA SPIKE or well-versed in how triangulation even works, and he knows this. It's a fool's errand at best, but he demands it by the end of the day. "So I can give it to the tech analysis guys." He says. You're about one more pointless task away from bashing your head into a wall, but you start on the map anyway. 

You're about halfway through when you hear Murphy calling your name, and you turn to see him and Javi walking through the crowded Mil Group office. 

"You're working with the Army now?" He asks, and you sigh. 

"For the day. Lou is on everyone's ass about this M-19 shit and thinks I'm the best person for the job, apparently," you say. "Please tell me you have something better than this." 

"We just got a sicario's son off the street. Dumbass was distributing in broad daylight in front of a cop." Javi says, and you furrow your eyebrows.

"We both know that's not a good enough reason for a cop to pick up a sicario's kid. What're you holding out on me?"

"Apparently, the cop heard him bragging about rigging a car with a bomb. He said something along the lines of, 'That's what happens to rats,' and then said something about going after La Golondrina next." Steve supplies. So this sicario's kid rigged the bomb to kill the informant who sniffed you out, said he also had a bomb for you, and now he's sitting somewhere in DEA custody? If Escobar's men weren't going after you before, they definitely are now. 

"Do you think he even knows anything? He might just be daddy's errand boy." 

"He asked for a deal," Steve says.

"Wheeling and dealing might not be grounds for extradition, but threatening to blow up a United States CIA agent just might be," Javi says. Something shifts in his eyes just enough for you to catch it, and you know it has to do with the conversation you had at the bar. You shake your head and break eye contact with him to look at Steve.

"Right, but you know how Wysession and Jones are. If it doesn't involve communist groups, they don't even want to look at it."

"The kid told us that some of Escobar's men have been talking with one of the leaders of M-19." Bingo. You throw down your marker, stand from the desk Wysession relegated you to, and all but march into his office with Steve and Javi close behind you. 

"How's that plotting coming along, honey?" Lou asks as he looks up from his paperwork, his face falling at the sight of the two men behind you. Lou might not like you, but he dislikes Javi and Steve more. 

"Agents Peña and Murphy have intel that Pablo is communicating with M-19 guerillas," you say. "That means there could be a joint attack coming, which means we can't keep separating the communist and narcos task forces." 

"Has this information gone through Noonan?" He asks.

"No, sir. We wanted to relay the information to our Agent here first since the intel involves her kidnapping." Steve speaks up, using your actual title, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. 

"Is your intel good?" Lou asks Steve, ignoring you and Javi, and Steve gives him a look. 

"You think we'd be wastin' your time if it wasn't?" 

"Well, then, you better get a move on and go tell her." He says like he doesn't actually like the idea, but he can't think of anything else to say. You, Javi, and Steve quickly leave his office and start the trek to Noonan's office when Steve gets a call on his sat phone. He looks like he's about to ignore it before remembering it could be Connie, and even though she's supposed to be at work, he doesn't take any chances and answers it. You're close enough to him to hear her frantic chattering on the phone and saying something about M-19 and Escobar. The walk to Noonan's office turns into a run, but it doesn't matter. By the time you get there, thousands upon thousands of pages of evidence against Pablo Escobar are burning on the TV as M-19 takes over the Palace of Justice. 

This isn't just a singular agency fight anymore. You doubt it ever was. You know that the Palace of Justice Siege will change everything for better or worse, and you have to be ready for it. Promises made over glasses of scotch be damned.

TAGLIST:@abbyhaslongshorts@kiwiharrykiwi@sumsworldz@myloveistoolittle@anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @space-zaddy-din-djarin @rainy-darling (let me know if you don't wanna be tagged for this series!)

[the-insomniac-emporium]

HCs for how some of the Resident Lover leads would take care of a sick MC

Because I have a cold and it's kicking my ass. Short, simple, and typed up on my phone. Features: Daniela, Miranda, and Cassandra. Will probably do the others at some point, just had the most thoughts with these three

Daniela:

Tries to stay as close to you as she can without getting herself sick, but almost always ends up catching your cold.

You'll ask for a kiss and she'll give you one on your forehead, and if you pout she'll say something like "sick homies get forehead kisses only". Continue pouting and she'll start pouting too, commencing a battle of puppy-dog eyes. It's honestly 50/50 who wins

Offers to bring you to the skatepark if you think fresh air might help. Also 100% willing to skate to the store and back to get you whatever you need.

Will attempt to cuddle with you in such a way that you're not breathing on her, hoping that'll be enough to keep from getting sick. It is not.

Inevitably catches whatever you have and finally calls up Bela for some of that magic soup.

Miranda:

Somewhat surprisingly (considering how many times she's lost you), Miranda doesn't get too worried or fussy over your health. At least not for a run-of-the-mill cold. But don't you dare start showing unusual symptoms (aka anything she hasn't seen from you before) or she WILL get fussy, in that "I'm worried and therefore feel the need to exert all possible control over this situation" type of way.

Sets alarms/reminders for you to take your medicine, wants you to text her confirmation that you've taken it.

Initially, Miranda attempts to buy food/drinks for you, but eventually realizes that she's not great at selecting stuff for you while you're sick. So instead, she'll give you a phone number and say you can use it like a personal DoorDash (it's either Mia or Caldwell, probably).

Depending on how long your cold lasts, she might get "fed up with her temporary assistant" (she just misses you SO much) and work from home.

Cassandra:

Her behavior largely depends on whether or not either of you are currently involved in a production. Best case scenario? Neither of you are, and she can focus on keeping you as comfortable as possible, bringing you sweet treats from her coffee trips. She'll probably also bring flowers and tea from Donna's shop.

If she's in a production and you're not?... She loves you, but she is NOT getting sick. Wears a mask, keeps a bottle of hand sanitizer in her pocket, keeps physical contact to a bare minimum (no matter how sad it makes her). Doubles the number of treats she brings in an attempt to make up for it.

If both of you are in a production?... Prepare to be exposed to the most foul, unholiest concoctions ever conceived by theatre kids. Even if you have an understudy, Cassandra will try to get you to at the very least make opening night. By the time your cold is over, you will have exactly 3 intact memories of what occurred during your illness, but reviews will call your performance inspired and passionate. You get the feeling that whatever you drank has theoretically barred you from any positive kind of afterlife, somehow.

[luimagines]

Can I request headcanons of the boys crushing on gn reader who can turn into a cat? And the more they turn into a cat the more they act like a cat. Sleeping,ignoring people, being annoyed at people etc. please and thank you!

Oh! That sounds delightful! Coming right up!

Masterlist

Headcanons you want and headcanons you shall receive.

Content under the cut!

Wind

He’s confused

How does that work?

But hey! He can make the same noises you can!

That being said he’s going to do as much research as he can on how cats behave and how they tick

He going to know so much

Wind’s going actually treat you like a cat

He’s trying his best, give him a break

Even if that were the case, Wind is also very protective by nature and will fight anyone who tries to wake you up from your mid morning nap

Wind might try to make the argument that he gets to keep you

His island is big enough and there’s lot of trees for you to climb on and avoid people if you wanted to

His home... also has a lot of water.... but that’s ok! Frankly it’s easy to avoid if you don’t go anywhere

The more you begin to act like a cat, the more he’s going to lean into it

Be prepared to have a lot of sounds thrown back at you 

Twilight

Oh dear, literal cats and dogs

It would be harder to get along with each other in the beginning

He would want all of your attention and you would just want to be left alone and nap and not have any social interaction for at least eight hours

With time you both do find a common ground

Naps together are an essential part to the relationship and it’s the best Twilight can say that he’s slept in a really long time

He does try his best to meet you at your level

Literally and figuratively

But will also try his best to annoy you at random intervals because he thinks it’s funny and he has nothing better to do

Aside from saving the world but that can be ignored for a little bit, right?

But when you’re calm and chilling and in your animals forms it is the cutest interactions ever

Wild has so many pictures on his slate and he refuses to delete them

Will also let you ride on his back as long as the claws are in

Rides on Epona are also allowed in cat form- even if he’s willing to sneak a few in while in true form anyway just so he has an excuse to hold you for longer

Warrior

Hello? Cuteness overload??

Sign him up

I’d think he’d be more of a cat person anyway so this is right up his alley

Warrior understands nearly every sentiment mentions

Sleeping? God he wishes he got more of it

Ignoring people? He can only do so much, let him do his paper work in peace... what do you mean he has another meeting to go to?

Being annoyed at people? Can you be his anger translator please? Some of the people he works with are actually idiots

Warrior would love moment where you’d be a cat and are simply curled up against him and asleep

He’d have to stay there- it’s the law- he can’t move now

But also just generally vibing more often than not because you’re the only one he can be next to and get some peace of mind

Wanting to stay in and relax instead of going out become the next big date night

He wants to settle down and live quietly and in peace

If he would have things his way, he’d also be a cat but this is good enough for him

Legend

Now some people are like cats and they get along with other cat people

This is not like that

He may like you a lot, but it’s like two cats that fight over territory

Lots of sass and hisses and maybe a smack of two

It takes the dogs like people to break you both up

That being said, he loves your cat form

You’re so cute, it should it illegal

His heart can’t take it

He probably wouldn’t even notice that you’re avoiding people because he does the exact same thing from time to time

Hissing at people? He still does it... but only when no one is paying attention to him

Flopping over people when they want attention? Do people not do that?

It might be the bunny showing through, but he’s not going realize that your cat like tendencies are connected to your behavior like of his bunny like tendencies

Meaning you might have to tell him and that’s going to be fun

Four

His relationship with cats is a bit... tense to say the least

So his relationship with you would get a bit tense at times as well

It’s not that he dislikes them...

But after getting hunted by them time and time again does put a damper on the impression you can get from felines

He has no problem with you while you’re not a cat

It’s just... while you are one he tells you to keep some distance from the “mice” around the forge and his home

They are friends 

And sure you can handle that quite easily, but scaring them is out of the question

They smell you and get scurry away and Four becomes distraught when he gets wind of it

It’ll come to a head if someone gets hurt but hopefully it won’t come to that, right?

Maybe keep a bit of distance while you’re in cat form

For both your sakes... and for the “mice” of course

Sky

Oh boy- these two will never get up from a nap ever again

The only experience he has anywhere close to cats is with remlits

So to his genuine surprise and delight, kitty cats won’t try to kill him once the sun goes down

But Sky will more or less end up the mediator when you get into your hate people mode

Which is fine by him to be completely honest

It’s like a golden retriever puling away their cat friend by the scruff of their neck before they can get into a fight

Have you seen those videos? I’d say they’re fairly accurate to their dynamic when you’ve spent too much time as a cat

That being said, the whole fiasco is a bit... out of his comfort zone?

Not to say that it weirds him out- let’s be real, after seeing the surface for the first time, Sky is willing to believe and work with literally anything that is thrown at him

But he doesn’t really know anything else to compare it too so he feels a bit lost

Does this mean you’re more animal? You act like it

Are there others like you? Maybe? Has he met anyone else like that?

Sky is a bit intimated by how much he doesn’t know but when has that ever stopped him from diving head first into the unknown?

Hyrule

OH OH OH OH He can change into something small and cute too!

You can go on adventures together!

You can cuddle up together in small spaces where no one will find and disturb you!

He doesn’t care about the ginore people part

He’s so happy about this merely as a concept

Seeing it in person is a whole other thing that he’s 100% willing to put up with any side effects that might come with it

Hyrule might ask to ride your back at some point

Don’t be afraid to say no to him about this 

Because he has wings, why does he need a ride?

Is going to steal you away, cat form or otherwise for naps in the sun

That’s a thing cats need, right? That’s why they sleep all the time? 

Please don’t hunt him in fairy form

Yes, blinking lights and glowing balls sound fun to jump on and chew but it will scare him half to death XD

Time

Oh you are the sweetest little thing he’s ever laid his eyes upon

In retrospect he’s not that different from being cat like himself, huh?

It’s not something he’s familiar with, not is it something he’s thought about too deeply, but without realizing it, he’s working with and around everything that might be thrown as him

It doesn’t even click that it might not be what most people would consider normal behavior

The hissing is new though, he can admit that

He adore your cat form and will lovingly let you sleep on his lap more often than not

Time is going to make sure that you have your space when you need it, happily directing everyone that might be asking for your attention to something else until you feel like you can socialize again

Time is going to try to keep your attention as a human though just so that you don’t change into a cat so often

Don’t get him wrong, he loves it

But he’s also needy for attention and it’s a lot harder talking to a cat that can’t talk back than just talking to you as it is

Time will let you ride on his shoulders while you’re in cat form though!

It’s a shame that he doesn’t also have a hood, he’d let you sleep there too if he had one

Wild

You can be in his hood as he rides around Hyrule!

Which is obviously his first thought

He wouldn’t mind it too much

In fact, I doubt he would even register it

Climb random things? Avoid people? Hiss?

Even if he wouldn’t do those things often, he can’t say that he hasn’t actually done it

So he’s in no position to judge

Maybe you just need a dark corner and some quiet time?

He can work with that

Some days are better than other but he’s also a huge cuddle bug

If you can spend some time just laying down next to him by the fire then he would be one very happy boy

Honestly, he might just need someone like this to calm him down as well

But how does he get close to you without being hissed at as well?

[geraldthellama]

Bowuigi Corpse Bride AU Lore Post

So I said I would probably make this and while I thought about making this into a fanfic and making ya'll read that, I decided that I need to commit to the other three (two and a half?) Mario fanfic ideas I have. So if anyone wants to make a full blown fic or whatever with this AU, feel free (but tag me ofc because I've got to see it).

(This will not be short, just a quick warning that this is a commitment).

This AU is very loosely based off the actual movie. Instead of them being in the underworld, they're just in a haunted house that Boo lost to Bowser in a game of poker, and instead of being a corpse (as the name suggests), Luigi is just a slightly annoying boo. Him and Polterpup are the only ones that inhabit the mansion, and, with the house completely abandoned, it's probably going to stay that way.

In this world, ghosts only stay after some massive traumatic death. Problem is, Luigi has no recollection of how he died, he just knows he hit his head and a little while later awoke, a ghost that's unable to be seen, heard, and is completely alone as a newly-deceased. Aside from the yipping ghost dog at his feet (Luigi has always been afraid of both ghosts and dogs).

As a ghost, Luigi originally spawns (spawns?) into this world with little ghostly abilities. Living beings can't see or hear him and he doesn't have the power to manipulate objects or people in any way. He is essentially a specter, watching the lives of other people for years until, eventually, it's abandoned, and the Peasley family mansion (one of many, that is) is gambled away to King Boo.

But, King Boos already got his own slew of creepy haunted mansions, and, frankly, this one is haunted by a ghost he can't stand. A ghost that hasn't been able to speak to someone for around a decade. A chatty ghost that hasn't been able to speak to someone for over a decade. He's not exactly torn up about parting with it.

Bowser, the poor thing, is on attempt...

Attempt... 2 hundred... something.

(at least 4 proposals a year, for around 20 years... that's...)

Let's just say, Peach does and has not wanted Bowser for a long ass time, and it really doesn't help his self esteem that he's still being thwarted by a plumber that's old enough to be his dad and uses a cane. He really can't understand what Peach sees in him, especially considering she still looks like a youthful 20/30-something into her 60s. Frankly, it's unfair. He's got money, kids (some really awesome ones too), power, looks (he thinks so at least), and isn't 3 pudding cups away from dementia.

What he hasn't got, until right now at least, is an awesome mansion, specially built for human(oid) creatures. Maybe she just didn't like gothic castle architecture? Maybe, as Boo suggests, he just has to get her scared enough to fall into his arms for safety. He's got this all planned out.

Boo did not specify that the "ghostly inhabitants" of this mansion were a hyperactive ghost dog and naive plumber. He didn't think it was important information at the time.

So, when Bowser is plotting and practice-proposes (does he really need more practice?) to the striking blue eyes of a, surprisingly, human painting, the last thing he expects is to be met with a ghoulish grin.

Barely ghoulish, because, god, the thing is bright. The smile and the bio-(bio?)-luminescent energy it's attached to. For a ghost who's wearing bloodied bandages and has been dead for 30 lonely years, he's surprisingly optimistic.

"Really?! And you're not even a boo!" :D

He's very optimistic, in fact, because he's willing to believe that this complete stranger might just be his ticket out of this wall-papered purgatory. He died meeting up with his forbidden love, after all, so it must be a sign. He does not hesitate to shove that ring on his finger, even if his new fiance looks hesitant (he might be naive enough to go with it, but he's not blind). He's convinced the two will make it work.

Luigi is... very tired of looking at the same things everyday. Now, he can attach to his new fiance, who's only slightly hesitant to engage with him, (and is not bad looking at all, in Luigi's opinion). Together, the two can actually have a life together. Luigi was only 25 when he died, and he was far too shy then to do any adventuring. The most rebellious thing the man had ever done was sneak out.

Man, look where that ended him.

For Luigi, this is his opportunity to live the life he wasted was robbed of.

And the guys got kids! How awesome is that?

Bowser is not liking the new pets at his side. One never stops yipping and yapping and one is a dog. Luigi is... fine. From a distance. The problem is that they physically can't get any. As long as Luigi is attached to him, consider them hand cuffed. This stupid, green boo is crimping his style, and any game he had with Peach is virtually ruined when he's got his "fiance" clinging to his side like he's the best thing since breathing air.

At least Luigi appreciates his kids. The ghost obviously has some taste (of course he does, he chose him for pete's sake), and Junior and the rest seem to like the ghoul enough... Even if Junior isn't completely sure that Luigi is a ghoul. Both Luigi and Junior agree that boos are scary.

Maybe, after some hard self-reflection (with Luigi close and present, of course), and some growing emotional intimacy and openness, Bowser begins to kind of, perhaps tolerate Luigi. Just a little. Just enough to find his stupid quirks endearing and just enough to start to think that maybe he's always been too good for Peach, anyway. Maybe he should be with someone who appreciates him and loves his family. It's not like her and Mario had ever had kids in their relationship, and her not wanting kids is kind of a deal breaker.

Bowser's newfound attention on Luigi is driving everyone else nuts, though. Boos barely seen the man since his unfortunate run in with the green leach and no one else at their poker table is any good. At this rate, Boos not even satisfied winning Peasley's riches off him anymore. Occasionally, a guy just wants to lose, y'know? Boo hates only one thing more than Peasley whining about the consequences of his gambling addiction, and that's boredom. He misses when the Koopa King spent all his time plotting against the old-ass plumber. At least then he showed his face at their meetings.

And when Boo finally brings up his grievances, because he deserves to rant, Peasley seems... nervous. Boo loves nervousness.

"There's a... human boo... in the mansion I gave you..?"

"One, you didn't give it to me, you lost, fair and square. Two, yeah, and he's just about the chattiest thing I've ever met. All dressed up in a white suit, the pretentious-"

At that, Peasley turns about as pale as a ghost. Well, if that were possible, considering he's a legume. Suddenly, he's got some important things he has to do somewhere else.

This poker table is looking weak.

When Peasley asks Bowser to meet at the mansion, Bowser warns he can't come alone. It's a stretch to get the green ghost to go back with him, and as much as Bowser wants to tell him "you're coming with me, whether you like it or not", he can't bring himself to say it. Instead, he convinces Luigi that it's a quick stay. Essentially, a welfare visit on the old house and a quick meeting with an old friend. Luigi's narrowly convinced.

Stepping back onto that porch brings back a lot of old memories for the human. Few of them anything good in retrospect.

But he does want to see his painting again. He always did cherish that painting. He's sure Bowser will too, right?

Is that painting a good memory for Bowser? He wonders.

It was all those years ago that a young Peasley gifted him that painting. Like him, he had been optimistic and in love. Even if his rich, snobby parents weren't a fan of the human, they had an entire life ahead of them. Peasley had made him a beautiful painting. It was the one part of the house Luigi felt was his. A good memory.

He never expected to be greeted by the same image he had all those years ago. Peasley, now older, stood in front of the painting. His face now wasn't proud or love-struck or whatever expression he had had then (Luigi can barely remember Peasley's face until just now), he looked somber. It was a rare occasion that Luigi wasn't green, and his teal glow seemed to throw Bowser off.

And divert Peasley's attention away from the miserable painting and over to the ghost, who was nervously twiddling his thumbs with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

It's not long before Bowser realizes that this meeting was never about him, and he feels more awkward than anything else...

Except that Polterpup has been on edge since the moment he saw the bean (now) king. Has he ever seen the dog not wag it's tail at someone?

Immediately, the older man apologizes. Things were never meant to end up how they did. He tried his best to help when he could.

Luigi's not angry, how could he be? Luigi's fall was an accident.

Peasley says he didn't know Luigi had stuck around, and if he had, he thinks he would have done things differently. He would have at least had the place cleaned instead of just letting it rot.

(So Peasley abandon the mansion? The perfectly good mansion for no reason, leaving Luigi alone.)

And, of course, Peasley's sorry for not telling Mario or his parents about what happened to him.

(HUH?)

He insisted that he waited for hours with Luigi, hoping he'd recover with enough gauze. The man told him it was a lost cause. If he could have saved him, he would have.

Hours?

"I was unconscious for hours?"

It came out as barely a whisper.

"I stayed almost the entire night. As long as I could."

Bowser didn't know boos could turn so many colors, especially that quickly. Bowser didn't think Luigi even had it in him to be anything less than smiley, especially completely enraged.

Luigi had never been more angry in his life (death).

Even Peasley's insistence that "You don't understand what they'd have done to me if they'd known I went against their wishes!" fell on deaf ears.

When Luigi's aura finally finished raving, Peasley had backed away from the now red ghost. Again, Luigi recognized the position they were in;

One of them backing up, away from the painting and towards the basement stairs. How could Peasley forget that door never closed all the way? It had only been the exact thing that killed Luigi 30 years ago. The exact thing that, of course, Peasley hadn't fixed.

Luigi swears he didn't push him, even in that state. Bowser believes him, only because the still angry and unaware Luigi yelled angrily down the stairs: "You better not die here, because I'll make your death hell!"

If they both hadn't just watched Peasley fucking die, Bowser would have kinda been into it.

It took Luigi a second to realize that even if his own fall had been an unlucky hit, Peasley wasn't 25 anymore. And he wasn't responding. His red hue didn't last long, especially when Polterpup no longer seems threatened (and Bowser notices that the bean king no longer seems to be breathing).

"What did I do?"

Bowser suggests fleeing the crime scene, which normally isn't his move, but he'd rather not be tied to the murder of a fellow royal. Luigi shakes his head.

This is his fault. And as angry as he still is at Peasley, he can't flee what he's done. Not in a right conscience. Not like what Peasley did to him. Luigi suffered enough sitting in that mansion alone for 30 years, and, as much as revenge tastes sweet, a small part of him still cares. Had he lived, Peasley and him would have had a life after all.

But he hadn't lived, did he.

Bowser can't remember a time ever seeing Luigi's color look quite as dull as it did then.

Playing with his engagement ring, Luigi thinks back on the part of the man he loved. Peasley never did buy him the ring, like he had hoped. Luigi remembers getting himself all excited over the possibility of a scenic proposal as they walked through the flower garden of the mansion. He had gifted him a painting. Which was almost as good.

He couldn't even count how many times he had stood and looked at that painting, thinking:

Was it worth it?

An apprehensive smile comes onto his face. A nostalgic smile. A somber one.

Doesn't really matter, does it? He'd never know if it was worth it in the end. This was how it ended up. Luigi had always believed that fate is what had brought him and Peasley together, considering everything else had lined them up for failure. Fate was what brought him here. What kept him here.

Who is he to drag down others?

He returns Bowser's ring.

"I'm sorry."

Bowser never deserved to have him weigh him down.

"I wasted my life chasing after a family I never got, and then spent my death doing the exact same thing."

Bowser awkwardly matches Luigi's bitter laugh.

"I lived my life, be it a short one, but you deserve to live yours."

Luigi pats the ring on his hand.

"I hope she likes it." He smiles. He means it. Peach sounds wonderful.

Tears prick Bowser's eyes, and all because...

He never did tell Luigi about him and Peach, did he? He can't help but laugh. Tears streaming down his face kinda laugh. The laugh you only get once a year kind of laugh.

"You spent, what? Maybe five non-consecutive years chasing after a family? Try twenty!"

Luigi's eyebrow goes up. This is supposed to be a super emotional goodbye and this goobers laughing? On about his conquest to marry Peach (who, apparently, is already married) and make his picturesque life. Luigi can't help but laugh, because it's so stupid that Bowser's laughing about this right now.

"Her and her stupid, human, mustachioed husband Mario have been kicking my ass for decades. I promise you, boo, you weren't ever getting in the way of anything."

Mario?!

"Mario?" (!)

"You heard of him?"

The excitement in Luigi's eyes (and aura) is obvious.

"My brother's name is Mario!"

With a look of determination, Bowser promises he'll tell Luigi the story of all his and Mario's exploits if he does him two favors.

Leaves this, frankly, ugly and decrepit mansion with him. Because this story needs atmosphere.

Puts the ring back on his finger. Because how else is everybody going to know they're engaged?

Luigi gives a grin.

He looks down the stairs. What about doing his due-diligence?

"I promise you, boo, if fate brought you and Peasley together, and pushed you down those stairs, and brought us together, and then pushed him down the stairs, fate is on your side."

Luigi's lips are still pursed.

"And it's almost sunrise," Bowser points out.

"So?"

"Well, we've waited almost all night, seems like a fair amount of time to me. It's obviously a lost cause."

At that, Luigi begins laughing. Not quite Bowser's guttural, teary laugh, but certainly a cackle. Enough to turn his aura back to a vibrant green, just like before. Enough to make him hunch over and take some (not really) much needed gulps of air.

When the laughing dies down to a hurt giggle, Bowser assures him that:

"You didn't kill him, Weeg."

No. I guess he didn't, did he?

Looking down the stairs one last time, (his death completely bloodless, the lucky bastard), Luigi's brows furrow for a second and he twiddles his thumbs.

If Luigi's learned one thing from being a condemned ghost, it's that you should take every chance you get.

The bottom of the stairs don't look so intimidating now.

"I...

I forgive you."

Maybe that is all Peasley deserves.

Luigi deserves to have another chance. And maybe Peasley does too, maybe he'll find one in the next lucky winner of poker. Someones gotta replace his spot at the table.

Bowser shares that he certainly deserves a mother to his children, and he's already got a quality candidate who's proved he's got what it takes. ("One who cooks, cleans, can't call in sick, die, and is pretty good looking! I hit the jackpot!")

Maybe, at the very least, Luigi deserves to see his brother one last time.

And maybe a few more times after that, for good measure.

Anyways so the original plan was just to have either Luigi and Bowser straight up immediately abandon the crime scene (not really crime scene) or have Luigi sit in the mansion forever and live out a miserable existence.

But I couldn't do that to my boys now could I. (But Peasley still gets abandoned because screw Peasley I hate that little bean man /j).

This wasn't meant to turn out in the format it did but, y'know, it did. Just know this isn't brief but also isn't comprehensive. I might (big emphasis on might) make a shorter headcanon post on this, but we'll see.

I hope you enjoyed. And sorry for the length, I am not known and will never be known for being concise.

[tomboy014]

I’m mostly going off of fanon when it comes to Constantine, so bear with me, but after all the times Constantine has complained to the JLA for dragging him into whatever problem they’ve managed to bumble into, Batman and Oracle have started looking for alternative occult and supernatural consultants, but it’s not like they can just look someone up in the phone book… right?

Except that’s exactly where Oracle finds Harry Dresden, Professional Wizard. 

There aren’t many records Oracle’s able to pull up, and what she does find is a mixed bag.  He’s got a fairly decent record working as a consultant with the Chicago PD, but he’s also worked with known criminal organizations.  There’s a pending lawsuit with TV studio over some wrecked equipment, good reviews from his former landlady, and a mix of dissatisfied and very satisfied customers, but it seems like, for the most part, he gets results. 

Plus, his rates are reasonable and he’s willing to travel; might as well bring him in on a trial run.

Nothing big at first.  Break up a new cult, disprove a haunting, all much smaller and easier than what he usually deals with back in Chicago.  He’s even managed to not burn down a building or two while he’s been here.  And while his methods can be… unorthodox, he can hold his own in a fight using both magical and mundane methods.  He’s a good detective and can work a crime scene.  He’s a hell of a lot more personable than Constantine.  Most importantly, he’s willing to teach.  Giant dork that he is, he’s eager to explain the magical theory behind his methods.

After a few months, Batman asks if Dresden is willing to be brought on full time, so to speak, and work his first “big” case.

“Only if you can provide a babysitter.” 

…What?

The Carpenter’s are on their family trip, and he doesn’t really have anyone else who can watch his kid.  He can only help if they can get him a babysitter.

Not what any of the Bats were expecting, but Batman can call in a “favor.”

Cue Dresden rolling up to Wayne Manor with little Maggie and her trusty sidekick, Mouse, in tow.

Alfred gets Maggie and Mouse settled in, and once she’s out of the room, Dresden turns to Bruce Wayne and casually asks if he gets to see the Batcave.

Dresden is aware he’s not always the brightest crayon in the toolshed, but he’s still a damn good detective, and he knows people.  It didn’t take him long to puzzle out that Bruce and the kids are vigilantes.  Bruce isn’t happy, but it does make things easier going forward.

Other than Tim, the Birds take to Dresden quickly.  He’s good with kids, never talking down to them, and is full of dorky movie and book references.  He can sling almost as much sass and sarcasm around as Steph.  Maggie is tiny and adorable and looks like a mini-Cass they can all coo over.  And Damian cannot get enough of Mouse who is just so large and fluffy and so much dog!  Tim doesn’t want Dresden to come anywhere near him; he shorts out every tablet and has to stay at least 20ft from the Bat Computer to keep it from shorting out.

So, Dresden finally works with the Justice League on some big, world-ending doomsday case, and yeah, this is unfortunately the speed he’s used to working at.  And, of course, a building burns down, but it was mostly not his fault!  But, everyone comes out more or less in one piece, the day is saved, and a bruised and beaten Dresden drags himself back to Wayne manor to recover before heading back to Chicago.

Just a normal day for Harry Dresden, professional wizard and supernatural consultant for the Justice League of America.

Still a much better deal than he’s used to getting.  The pay is good, and he doesn’t have to constantly watch his back against his own teammates.  Perk of working with superheroes; they’re generally good guys. 

But the biggest perks have been the positive effects on his daughter, Maggie.  It’s no Chez Carpenter, but the Manor and all the bat kids have a strong and warm family vibe of their own.  They’re (worryingly) good at helping talk her down from panic attacks and PTSD episodes.  They’ve got a lot of parenting advice to give, too.

And Maggie can finally get the therapy she needs from Black Canary without Dresden worrying about her being thrown into a loony bin for talking about the literal monsters she’ been exposed to.  Harry, too.

This is the best Harry and Maggie have been doing in a long time.

John Constantine, on the other hand, is getting worried.  The JLA have gone a suspiciously long time without getting themselves into trouble, and despite the way he acts, he does care in his own way, so he goes to check on them.  And who does he find they’ve invited into their house?  Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, apprentice of Justin DuMorne, son of Margaret LeFay, fiancé to Lara Raith of the White Court of Vampires, and the right-hand goon of the Dark Faerie Queen herself, Mab.  For Dresden, he can’t believe John Constantine, renegade warlock, necromance and black magic practitioner, just walked in.  He’s been on the Warden’s list for years. 

Both parties are trying to make their case about why they shouldn’t be using the other; they’re evil!  But the more Dresden and Constantine yell and argue with each other, the more they realize that they’re both working outside boundaries, but generally in the direction of good.  The two end up in positions that require them to work together, and it goes surprisingly well.  Their knowledge and experiences complement each other’s, and they make a well-oiled, if reluctant, duo.

[tolietpaperdreams]

Hysteria Chp 4 (Hartbreak)

Okay fine! Five parts it is, but that’s it, I have too many other ideas I need to write lol. Plus I really like the ending I have planned for this story.

Comments n stuff are always appreciated, hope you enjoy! K here’s your smut byyyyeeee <3

The time passed slowly. It always did whenever Bret needed to keep his mind occupied. He trained for an extra hour every day, he spent more time with his friends. Anything to shut up the noise in his head, but when it came time for him to lie down at night, there was always that empty space.

Granted, it hadn't been very long. Maybe two weeks since the fight with Shawn, but that didn't change how it affected him.

The most he'd seen of the blonde was backstage or in the locker room. He wanted to talk to him, tried to talk to him, but every time there seemed to be a different excuse. Shawn would need to go warm up or he couldn't talk because he had a meeting. The worst was when he approached Shawn in the locker room one day only to have Hunter step in his path and give him an ‘eat shit’ look.

They still had to work together; the pay-per-view was coming up fast and they needed to sort out their match. But that couldn't happen unless Shawn was willing to talk to him.

Bret truly thought about begging. He considered finding Shawn’s hotel room and pleading on his hands and knees for just a second of his time, but that would be ridiculous. He thought about the Orchids and the old lady who said they meant strength and unity, but Bret had never felt more alone.

It all seemed like a load of bullshit now, but Bret wasn't so easily deterred. He resisted the urge to go back to his old ways of sticking his head down and keeping his nose to the grind, but there wasn’t much else he could focus on besides work.

Owen, Jim, and Davey had forgiven him for being so caught up in everything that he’d essentially abandoned them. Bret would make sure he never lost sight of how important they were in his life again. They also encouraged him to win back Shawn’s affection.

The problem was that he had no idea where to start. Approaching Shawn directly hadn’t worked, so now what? Should he wait for the blonde to come to him? Or was there a more discreet option?

“You could give him a note,” Jim offered after training one day.

“We’re not in middle school Jim, a note would be useless,” Bret disregarded that information as he wiped the sweat off his face with a towel.

“He could be onto something,” Davey added, unlacing his boots, “That way Shawn’s dogs won’t get in your way.”

Davey referring to Hunter and the other guys as ‘Shawn’s dogs’ didn't really sit right with Bret, but he let the insult roll off his shoulders.

“What would I even write?” He did his best to keep an open mind.

“Ask him out,” Owen finally chimed in, “You guys never even went on a real date before you dived head-first into whatever it was that you guys were doing.”

That was a good point. He and Shawn had moved so fast that Bret never once thought to take him out. Shawn probably wanted to be wined and dined; he wanted to feel worth something, and Bret had neglected that part of their budding relationship. He didn't even know what kind of restaurant to take him to.

“I don't know, I've never-”

Owen cut him off, “Stop hesitating. Do you want Shawn back or not? You need to show him he’s worth it.”

That was enough encouragement for Bret to start brainstorming.

***

“What if he says no?” Bret adjusted his black button-down shirt in the mirror; he felt like he looked crazy but Owen insisted he dress nice.

“He won’t,” His little brother rolled his eyes as he sat on the hotel bed.

Bret took the advice of his brother and friends and decided to send Shawn a note. Through some networking the night prior, he was able to find what hotel room the other man was staying in and slid the note under the door like a lovesick teenager. It was a simple note, maybe too simple. All it said was, ‘Dinner, tomorrow? -Bret. RM 102.’

There were no flowers or extravagant gifts; it was just Bret in a button-down that hugged his chest a little too tight and a desperate plea for Shawn to open back up.

“I didn't even give him a time,” Bret was so focused on the semantics of everything that he was starting to sweat. What if Shawn just didn't show up or never even noticed the note in the first place? What if Hunter or one of the other guys got to it first and trashed it? The collar around his throat was starting to feel tight.

“Will you relax? He’ll show up,” Owen said nonchalantly as he stood to look Bret over once or twice.

All he wanted was a chance to show Shawn that he wasn't a screw-up. He’d dress nice, wear uncomfortable clothes, and buy all the stupid Orchids in the world if it gave him the opportunity to tell Shawn he wanted the real thing too.

“I should do one of those grand gesture things like they do in the movies,” Bret started to fidget with the shirt collar.

“You definitely should not,” Owen grabbed Bret’s hands and pushed them down to his side, so he’d stop fidgeting, “Relax, dude. It’s just Shawn.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘just’ Shawn,” Bret emphasized to his brother, “He’s- y’know… he's Shawn.”

Owen gave him a look that must have been a mixture of disgust and confusion, “You’re weird.”

Bret couldn't do anything besides laugh at Owen’s remark; he was so grateful for his brother’s help but of course, he’d have to pay the price at the same time.

After making sure Bret looked his best and was as emotionally ready as he could be, Owen left. He told Bret to wait for half an hour and call him if Shawn never showed. He couldn't help but feel like he’d be calling his little brother sooner rather than later.

Again, the time passed slowly. Bret was so wound up he was starting to sweat. He didn't know what he would say to Shawn if he even showed up.

The minutes felt like hours before finally, at the twenty-minute mark, there was a soft knock on the door.

Bret stood and tried to flatten his button-down that got crinkled from him being hunched over on the couch. He was already so uncomfortable, but if this was what it took, he’d do it.

He walked over to the door and took a deep breath before opening it. Shawn stood there with a nervous look on his face. The blonde wore a button-down of his own with nice jeans and boots, a gold necklace laid around his neck, and his hair was styled down.

Bret tried to speak, but he was caught ogling before he could get a word out.

“What?” Shawn crossed his arms and did his best to convey annoyance even though his cheeks were turning pink, “Are you gonna let me in?”

“Yeah, of course,” Bret said, moving out of the way.

He wasn't entirely sure how to greet Shawn. Obviously, he'd have to earn a kiss, but would a hug be too much? He decided at the moment to play it safe and let Shawn take the lead.

“You look nice,” Bret turned, following Shawn into the room.

The jeans Shawn wore hugged his ass perfectly and Bret had to remind himself to breathe.

“I know,” The blonde said curtly and leaned against the nearby table.

If Shawn wanted to have an attitude that was fine, Bret could handle that. If anything, it was a good sign because at least Shawn was talking to him.

“Right,” Bret figured the best thing to do would be to push through the awkwardness, “Thanks for coming.”

Shawn huffed and rolled his eyes, “What is this? An interview? Are you taking me to dinner or what?”

So much for the stoic apology act Bret had planned, “Shawn, I would love to, but you're already making it difficult.”

“You invite me out over a note after we haven't spoken in weeks and you just expect me to be cool about it?” Shawn spat back.

“I want to fix this,” Bret tried as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Then why did it take you so long?”

“Because you wouldn't talk to me!”

“You hardly tried!”

They were suddenly nose to nose, neither man willing to step down.

“I did try,” Bret grabbed the front of Shawn’s shirt, “More than you think.”

“You should have sent that note weeks ago,” Shawn’s voice softened.

Bret could finally feel how close they were. Shawn still leaned against the table, hands clutching the edge. Bret could feel the blonde’s breath against his own and once Shawn’s gaze met his, he knew there would be no fancy dinner tonight.

Their lips met in a frenzy, Shawn essentially throwing himself at Bret. It was hungry and urgent like they needed each other to breathe. Shawn moaned into Bret’s mouth as he pulled the blonde’s hips flush with his own.

The feeling of having Shawn back in his arms again overtook anything he originally planned to say or do. The smell of Shawn’s cologne overwhelmed his senses as he kissed and sucked bruises into his neck and collarbone; he’d never get enough of it.

The distance had been agonizing, and Bret was more than willing to make up for it.

“Fucking jerk,” Shawn grunted as he sunk a hand into Bret’s hair and pulled him back.

Bret winced slightly at the pain before letting out, “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

“God, yes,” Shawn yanked him in for another kiss.

He bit at Bret’s lower lip hard enough to make him whine at the pain before Shawn pushed him back onto the bed. Bret didn't see the more dominant side of Shawn very often, but he couldn't complain. They climbed to the top of the bed, Shawn straddling Bret’s lap.

The kisses they shared were hungry and wet as they both tried to hastily discard their shirts. Shawn ground his hips against Bret’s, both groaning at the feeling of their still-clothed erections against each other.

Bret needed to say something, but Shawn was busy devouring his mouth so he turned his head to the side, “Shawn,” he could barely get out, the blonde having moved down to kiss his chest.

Shawn took a nipple into his mouth causing Bret to cry out. He bit and sucked at both of them until they were pert and swollen then sat back and allowed both of them to catch their breath.

“What is it?” He panted, a smug look plastered on his face.

The way Shawn’s wavy hair laid past his shoulders was a sight to behold - the way his chest heaved and how he looked down at Bret, those gorgeous blue eyes, and the curves of his muscles - Shawn’s body was intoxicating.

“I need to see you,” Bret breathed, hands sliding up Shawn’s thighs to grab his hips.

Shawn didn’t say anything for a moment, a small smile grew on his face as the words sunk in.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Bret added, “I've never felt like this before.”

It was a declaration of his own. Shawn made him feel utterly insane, but in the time their relationship had grown, he’d never been happier. The highs were so high and the lows were so low, but if it was for Shawn, he’d go through hell.

“I was so wrong about everything-”

Shawn shut him up with a kiss, this one softer. They weren't good with words, but they could communicate through their bodies. Bret didn't know if he was entirely forgiven, but it seemed like he was off to a good enough start.

Placing soft kisses along Bret’s jawline, Shawn reached down and began to undo his jeans. Soon they were discarded along with Bret’s and neither was denied full access any longer. Shawn sank down, his tongue tracing from Bret’s neck to his nape as fingers teased his already sensitive nipples.

Bret inhaled sharply, knowing his reaction would only encourage Shawn to continue, but he was saved once Shawn brought his hands down, wrapped one around Bret’s cock, and licked from base to tip. Bret let out a groan as soon as Shawn took him all the way into his mouth and threaded a hand into the blonde’s hair.

“So gorgeous,” He breathed, meeting those icy blue eyes with his own.

It was controlled and slow at first, Shawn bobbing his head in time with the stroke of his hand. The warmth and wetness of his mouth on Bret’s cock was almost too much and he had to use all his self-control in order not to buck his hips into Shawn’s mouth.

Tightening the hand in the blonde’s hair, Bret talked him through it, “That’s it, baby.”

Shawn moaned around Bret’s length and hallowed out his cheeks to create more friction. Bret knew he wouldn't last long with the type of head Shawn gave and he didn't want to end the fun before it even started.

He gave Shawn’s hair a slight tug so he would pull off and the blonde did so without hesitation; a long string of spit still connected the tip to Shawn’s swollen lips.

“Don’t move,” Shawn exhaled and climbed up to straddle Bret’s thighs again, “I wanna ride you.”

Who was he to deny Shawn that right? Bret reached up to pull the blonde down for a searing kiss.

They stayed like that for a moment before Shawn pulled away briefly to ask, “Do you still have everything?”

Bret knew that Shawn was referring to condoms and lube; he shook his head, “I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

He playfully smacked at Bret’s chest, “You’re lucky I'm prepared.”

He quickly hopped off the bed and went searching for his jeans.

“Wait,” Bret furrowed his brow, watching Shawn dig through his pockets, “You brought condoms and lube even though you were pissed at me?”

Shrugging, Shawn climbed back onto the bed and back onto Bret after finding what he was looking for, “I only bought them after I found your note. Knew you’d say all the right things,” He winked.

Bret couldn't help the chuckle that he let out as he ran his hands up Shawn’s toned thighs, “I haven't said much of anything.”

“Will fix that later,” Shawn set aside the condom and handed Bret the lube.

A question wracked his mind, one he wasn't sure Shawn was ready to hear yet, but now was as good as any time, “What if we ditch the condom?”

“That depends,” Shawn watched Bret spread lube on his fingers, “Who else are you fucking?”

The fact that Shawn said ‘who else’ instead of asking if there was ‘anyone else’ struck a chord with Bret. He hadn't made his intentions with Shawn clear enough.

Using his free hand, Bret urged Shawn forward slightly by the hip so he could have easier access. He traced a lubed finger over Shawn’s entrance, making the blonde inhale sharply and dig his fingers into Bret’s chest.

“You know very well,” Bret used his other hand to palm at Shawn’s ass, adding a smack for emphasis, “That I only have eyes for you.” He sunk the first finger in.

Shawn let out a whine and pushed back with his hips, already wanting more, “That- Ah! Doesn't answer the question-”

Bret always loved the way Shawn took his fingers so eagerly, but it did make it increasingly more difficult to restrain himself.

“No one else has even crossed my mind,” He cooed, adding another finger.

“Nnnh- Bret I can't take it,” Shawn whined, his cock hard and dripping pre-cum, “I need it.”

Normally, Bret would use at least three fingers to prep, but Shawn’s eagerness put that concern at ease.

“You sure?” Bret didn't want to hurt him.

“Yes-” Shawn clenched his eyes shut, “Now, Bret. Please-”

With that, Bret removed his fingers and urged Shawn to sit up on his knees higher. He slicked himself up with the leftover lube from his fingers and did his best to line himself up.

Shawn pushed his hips back, taking in the tip of Bret’s cock. As he slowly sank fully onto it, they both groaned at the delicious feeling. It felt even better knowing there was no barrier between them now, Bret could fully experience Shawn.

With his chest heaving as he adjusted to the feeling of being full, Shawn let out, “There hasn't been anyone else,” He paused for a moment, “I don't want anyone else-”

Bret reached up and traced a thumb across Shawn’s jaw, “Me neither.”

He pulled Shawn down into a kiss; it was settled. Bret couldn't even fathom the thought of someone else. Ever since that first kiss at the bar, as rushed and panicked as it was, Shawn had grabbed Bret’s heart and ran with it. Maybe even before then, but he was just too blind to see.

Finally, after sitting back, Shawn started to move his hips.

“God, Shawn…” Bret dug his fingers into the blonde’s hips, holding himself back from thrusting up into him, “You feel so good.”

It felt so different with no condom, physically and emotionally. There was a new trust that hadn’t been there before, one that said ‘I’m yours and you're mine.’

Shawn moved at an agonizing pace, his hips rocking forward and back in order to take Bret fully. It wasn't slow, but it was a more intimate pace.

Shawn grabbed Bret’s wrists and pinned them over his head as he rode him, fully taking control.

“Fuck-” Bret groaned. He wanted nothing more than to flip positions and fuck Shawn into the mattress but it wasn't his turn. Shawn was running things now.

“What is it?” Shawn breathed as he continued his movements, “Tell me what you want.”

It was killing him, he wanted to touch Shawn- wanted to run his hands all over his skin- to feel how the blonde shivered under his touch. He pushed against Shawn’s grip weakly, his brain too foggy to do much about it. Bret wouldn't last much longer.

Shawn continued his onslaught, grinding his hips quicker, “C’mon baby, tell me what you want.”

Bret couldn't help the moan that escaped his throat before he panted, “Please Shawn-”

The moment Shawn let go of his wrists, Bret pulled the blonde down to his level; one hand gripping the back of his neck and the other squeezing a hip so hard it would probably leave bruises. Bret fucked Shawn from underneath at a brutal pace.

Shawn let out a series of cries, each moan in time with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Bret's thrusts were sharp and brutal but quickly became erratic as he felt the heat pooling in his gut.

“Don’t stop- don’t stop-” Shawn whined, his own release building up.

Bret managed to keep Shawn’s request, thrusting a few more times before he couldn't hold back his orgasm. He stalled his hips as he came, pulling Shawn into a hard kiss.

Before he could come down from the moment, Bret flipped Shawn onto his back, the blonde letting out a small yelp as he did so. Bret smoothly pulled out and leaned down to take Shawn into his mouth.

It didn't take long for Shawn to cum, the feeling of Bret’s mouth around him was just enough to bring him over the edge. Shawn bucked his hips as he came and Bret did his best to take him deeper into his mouth before swallowing. He pulled off and licked Shawn’s cock from base to tip, relishing in the sight of him shivering at the overstimulation.

Shawn caught his breath for a moment before speaking, “We should fight more often.”

Bret chuckled and laid his head on Shawn’s thigh, “I think we can have good sex without the fighting.”

It was quiet for a moment, both parties basking in the afterglow of makeup sex. A tension had been lifted between them, but there was still a small air of uncertainty. Bret almost got up to get a towel and help Shawn get cleaned up, but was stopped for the time being.

Shawn reached down and gently cupped Bret’s cheek, “I missed you.”

Such tender words. Something Bret still needed to work on, but it seemed like Shawn was willing to try. He placed a kiss on Shawn’s thigh before climbing to the top of the bed and taking him into his arms.

“I missed you, too,” Bret sighed contentedly and inhaled the scent of Shawn’s hair while he nuzzled into Bret’s chest.

Shawn got comfortable and started playing with the hairs of Bret’s happy trail, “Owen told me you cried,” He said nonchalantly, “A couple weeks ago.”

Bret huffed, a small trigger of annoyance came and went. He was too tired to get upset, albeit a little embarrassed, “Are you always in cahoots with my brother?”

“Him and Hunter are good buddies,” Shawn turned his head to look at Bret, “I’m surprised you hadn't noticed.”

He hadn’t, “Guess I was too caught up,” Bret traced a finger up and down Shawn’s shoulder.

“About Hunter,” Shawn started, pausing briefly to see Bret’s reaction.

He didn't really want to talk about Hunter right after sex, but Bret made a promise to himself that tonight he would fix what he could in his relationship with Shawn.

“Go on,” He tried not to sound on edge.

“You’re not actually jealous of him, are you?” Shawn questioned.

Bret exhaled before answering, “I don't really think so. I think I was just looking for a reason to be mad,” He paused for a moment, making sure there was eye contact, “And I don't want to be with anyone else, Shawn.”

He wanted Shawn to understand that there was no one else for him and that Shawn would never have to worry about anyone else. Bret also knew that he was never truly jealous of Hunter- he was jealous of the bond Shawn had with him- the trust that he put into Hunter. Bret wanted that trust put in himself as well.

“Even though I drive you crazy?” A sly smile crept onto Shawn’s face.

“If you make me crazy, then I don't ever want to be sane.”

***

It was crunch time. There was only a week left before the pay-per-view and Bret needed to ramp up his training. He was glad that he and Shawn had made up, even though there were still some unspoken hiccups they hadn't discussed. Bret hadn't yet apologized for being unwilling to drop the belt to Shawn all those weeks ago.

There was only so much that words could do, though. Bret knew the best way to prove that he thought Shawn would be a great champion, was to put him over. He’d done it before with others, he could do it again. This time, tenfold.

“You’re getting up slower, go again,” Jim coached, diligently.

Bret tried not to wince as he got up and ran the ropes again before throwing himself into a breakfall. It was the most basic of wrestling skills, but it was one that had to be maintained. He was sweaty and his heart rate was through the roof; they’d been at it for over thirty minutes.

The work never stopped. Even though he finally had a few days at home before hitting the road again, he couldn’t lose sight of the end goal. That’s how Bret ended up training on a rest day at his in-home ring in the basement; it was his very own version of The Dungeon.

Shawn offered to come back to Calgary with him, but Bret insisted he go home and rest. They both had time off after the pay-per-view and Bret promised to show Shawn his home after. As excited as he was for that, it felt very far away. Bret’s main focus was making sure he performed well enough to make sure Shawn looked good in their match.

“C’mon Bret, don’t lose focus,” Jim said as he leaned against the turnbuckle, watching Bret run from one end of the ring to the other.

He kept going for what felt like forever, his lungs were burning and his body ached, but it was a feeling he loved. After that, they ran drills and talked through the match. With Shawn, Bret was able to think on the fly, but he didn’t want to do that for such a big match so they agreed on certain big spots to practice while at home.

Jim did his best to fill in for Shawn, but with his big size, there were just some things they couldn’t practice together.

”Tell me how you did it,” Jim nudged Bret in the ribs as he wiped the sweat off his face with a rag.

“Did what?” Bret huffed, rubbing the area where Jim had jabbed him. His brother-in-law never realized his own strength.

”How an ugly mug like you managed to snag someone like the Heartbreak Kid?” Jim teased.

Bret scoffed as he grabbed a nearby water bottle, “Says you, you look like a bulldog.”

Jim shrugged, “It got me your sister.”

Bret didn’t get the chance to jab back because his phone started to ring from upstairs.

”You’re so lucky,” He said, pointing a menacing finger in Jim’s direction as he got out of the ring and ran up the stairs.

He barely made it to the phone in his kitchen before it stopped ringing.

”Hello?”

There was a beautiful raspy voice on the other line, “Hey, Bret.”

His knees could buckle every time he heard Shawn say his name.

“Everything okay?” He wasn’t expecting Shawn to call.

”Yeah everything’s fine, just thinking about the match.”

Bret leaned against the counter, figuring he might be there for a minute.

”Me too, you nervous?” He asked.

Shawn scoffed, “No, I’ve never been nervous a day in my life.”

It was very obvious that Shawn was mortified, but Bret knew now wasn’t the time to tease him, “You’re going to do great, baby.”

“We’re gonna do great,” Shawn corrected.

”Yes, of course,” Bret took a moment to think about his words, “You’re going to be an incredible champion.”

He was met with silence on the other line.

”I mean it,” Bret continued, hoping he hadn’t scared Shawn, “You were meant for this.”

“Bret, can I tell you something?” Shawn’s voice had gotten quieter.

“Of course,” Bret mentally prepared himself for the worst.

There was a longer stretch of silence. Bret could feel his palms starting to sweat at the anticipation. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Shawn spoke, “I think I’m in love with you.”

It was a good thing after all, wasn’t it? Bret felt his mouth go dry, unsure how to respond he immediately began to stumble over his words, “I- um- Shawn that’s-“

”It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know, it’s been eating at me. I’ll see you in a few days, okay?” Shawn sounded like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Before Bret could respond, the line clicked.

[wolfnesta]

I just felt like putting some of my pent up feelings into words in the most simple way I could think of on Cassian and his character because I’ve been having such a hard time staying anchored and sometimes putting it down to words helps. It’s long so, under the cut.

I feel like it is worth to start off by mentioning that blatant plot armor is a peeve of mine but I’m aware that acotar is also a series that caters to some high strung romance aspects of fantasy that would otherwise be a huge red flag in real life, example, being super aggressive and protecting of their mates, the frenzy, etc. Basically what I’m trying to explain is that while I hate some aspects in acotar (like the plot armor) I’m willing to accept others parts some might find unsavory (like the red flags behind matehood) but by all means I’m not trying to change anyone’s mind or opinion of those things rather just stating how I chose to go forth reading the series.

With this in mind I want to point out the highlight of Cassian’s relationship with Nesta at it's initial stages.

In WaE he’s basically horny for Nesta the entire time which as I said I’m okay with overlooking, even find enjoyable, because of the whole matehood concept, but what intrigued me the most was Nesta’s reaction where she feels threatened that he can ‘see’ her—

‘then it had all stopped, the eye of a storm with them in it, and there she was.

And in those blue-gray eyes, he could see the thoughts swirling in her as if they were smoke under glass.’

And everything going forward since— when Nesta shows vulnerability to the queens in her passionate bid to save the humans he seems to react to her in a way that suggest he understands her passion and promises her his protection. In front of everyone. He explains how he fought in those lands and declares he’ll do it again. For her and the humans she’s desperately trying to save. Doesn’t try to pull her into a hug or remove her from the situation he simply wipes her tear because he seems to understand her. When she agrees to scry and he offers his solid presence silently, he knows she’d never ask it of anyone, he walks up to her half wounded and places one hand on her back. That touch is enough. How he knew she would need to see her father sailing through the water, the boat at the helm having her name on it and wordlessly grabs her and lifts her so she can witness all this.

I felt like he had this understanding of Nesta that no one has likely offered to her before because of her fickle nature. I lived for the idea that no matter how unreasonable she might be, that he would allow her to be as crazy and raging as she needed to be, without being terrible to her as his brother and Mor are because it would seem he saw her. I thought it was a neat character trait to be often misconceived as the brute, all brawn’s no brain kind of guy, when these actions with Nesta portray his emotional intelligence, even with Feyre when she’s punching and punching him and he knows to let her. That he would not think of walking away or leaving.

Just for the sake of not wasting my time or others I want to mention there is a difference between allowing your S.O. to step all over you vs being supportive and understanding. Cassian and Nesta are not together at this point. They are in that will they, will they not, stage very entertaining for the reader with Nesta being the one of the two that is undergoing recovering from trauma he himself admits to have lived and healed from. So I don’t find it to be some turn off for Nesta to be snarky and rude to him for the same reasons I can forgive the whole hornyness from Cassian. I’m not going to be swayed into thinking Nesta calling him names Amren has been calling him for centuries (*cough* like dog *cough*) is enough to give Cassian any superiority over Nesta (which the story tries to imply hence the plot armor I mentioned) which is one of the many things that sort of sent the canon ship asunder for me. Which leads me to vent more on some of the rest below.

Acofas/acosf was a mixture of what could have been but just sort of trailed in bloody ribbons from the butchering of the dynamic as a whole. In the way that he was suppose to be her silent supporter as he had been up until the awful gift giving scene. It was suppose to be in the way he could’ve defended her and took up for her, yes even when he knows she's wrong. Because this is the Nessian dynamic we were set up for. I’m not arguing about wether the moral compass of the reader thinks it’s the right thing to do or not. It’s because his character had already shown traits to fulfill these unmet needs in Nesta. So much so that she felt unnerved, as most people that have never met anyone feel the want or desire to understand them because of the thick walls behind an icy bitch face have—

Perhaps that was what unnerved her, made her want to slice at him. The utter sincerity. That he honored his promises, and did not make them lightly.

But oh the butchering when the emotional intelligence he had shown since is just radically wiped off the table when he insinuates she’s not trying enough and should maybe leave then, can’t understand why her sisters love her. It’s like being thrown a bucket of ice water. Like it’s jarring— whoa wait I thought he could see through her? How can his confession— ‘ I will find you in the next life and we will have that time’ suddenly be wiped off the map when he has shown emotional intelligence towards her knowing much less. At this point in the story she is not his anything to feel any sort of entitlement of her affection either. It’s just awful all around.

It’s almost as if sjm ( because at the end of the day me being anti cassian is me being critical of how sjm chose to go forth writing him) had this rough draft idea where Cassian could handle anything Nesta threw at him but it would be oh so sexy of him to throw some back. But instead it manifested into Cassian just kicking a down person all the while losing his most cherished quality, his emotional intelligence.

It’s so difficult to watch how this carcass is dragged further in hofas. As I mentioned this is my opinion of the Nessian dynamic we had been set up for pre acofas/acosf not if you agree with me on how it should be. I had thought Cassian’s strength and intelligence would give him the opportunity to be someone that was able to withstand Nesta’s ice and fire, that he would be strong enough to not call her out about being wrong in front of other people but rather weather telling her in private. Because in public he's on her side and makes sure everyone knows it but he is not also losing his own opinions and voice, on the contrary, he explains and talks to her not to everyone else in the room. That hofas chapter gave no indication of either thing happening. Even going back to beginning with the whole matehood concept being a red flag he doesn’t show any of those ‘protective’ instincts whatsoever. Sjm critical or whatever, I guess. It’s tiresome to keep seeing it’s partly because she keeps on picking and choosing when certain concepts apply if they don’t or do serve her purpose instead of like idk consistency. She chose to keep him in this torn position of bro’s before ho’s middle school ass concept because Rhysand is his brother or whatever not the more adult idea of being husband and wife/ mates and Nesta having honest reasons, him addressing the dangerous aspects of her choice with her only all the while not allowing his bro to step all over his mate in front of him.

To conclude, Nessian to me was about Cassian being strong yet patient, firm yet supportive, to someone like Nesta. For Nesta it's about having someone being beside her when everyone else is against her, about seeing her amazing heart even when she herself does not. For him to use these traits unique to him and be able to pick her up when she can't stand. To love ALL of her. Any attempt to keep this dynamic up in acosf doesn’t even serve the purpose to show me this but rather it just seems like a way for sjm to remind the reader Cassian is the one trying oh so hard to help Nesta and Nesta is the big evil who has/is being mean to this poor male. It’s the plot armor I mention instead of a harmony of character dynamics coming together to make a wonderful relationship. The hike scene is an example of sjm poorly trying to portray this when he tells her there’s nothing broken to be fixed but only after having witnessed Nesta being okay with dying from falling off a cliff and literally croaking over from dehydration not to mention how at this point his and the rest of the IC’s intervention has so many problematic points that have changed Nesta’s character to suit the weird idea sjm has of wish fulfillment for feysand on Nesta’s ‘punishments’. It’s just a bloody trail of ribbons all of it.

Well atleast there’s enough substance left for me to play with but also at the same time it’s enough for me to mourn the loss which can get tiresome at times. But it is what it is and I choose to carry on 😊

[lenardslittlemeowmeow]

Hello again! This is a post for people who have read my recently published fic "To The Unfriendly Neighborhood"!

I promised, didn't I?

This is an art piece I did while writing the fic! Major spoilers for the fic underneath the read more! Please give it a read and then come back and check this out :D

Now that only people who have read the fic (or are willing to spoil themselves) are here…

I proudly present: Jewel!

Yep! She needed a different name during the concept and ideas process because half-Unfriendly Junebug was too long, so we (me and a friend) decided on Jewel! Because Jewel beetles look very similar to Junebugs and are closely related.

And this is her!

This is her normal everyday wear! Her hair is tipped bright green because she convinced Gordon to buy her hair dye. Her skirt is long because it helps to hide her legs without them getting tangled up (I wanted to show them off lol). She's supposed to be disproportionate by the way.

This is her jacket outfit. She wears it when she's having a bad day and needs more of a "shield" from the world. It doesn't quite fit perfectly because it's an old employee's jacket.

And now the fun part, details and extras about Jewel and the story!

Story details:

- The reason Norman and Lenard thought Jewel didn't actually meet Gordon is because they hadn't encountered him themselves and made assumptions.

- Pearl actually knew who Gordon was, but she didn't think he was coming back and thought Jewel was just being wishful and naive.

Jewel details:

- Absolutely despises Norman. Particularly the Norman who wasn't aware of Gordon's existence and was the first to tell her he wasn't real, even when he was. She's sorta indifferent and standoffish to the other Normans, but she's downright aggressive to the original.

- When it comes to the puppets, she gets along best with Lenard, since he helped her through her transformation and the whole ordeal afterwards. They're very close.

- Struggles with delusions and hallucinations, often Lenard and Gordon are the only ones who can help her out of them.

- Very protective of Gordon. Almost constantly by his side. On bad days she'll growl at anyone who gets too close to him. Can and should be likened to an overprotective attack dog.

- Will sometimes just. Pick Gordon up. Like when you hold a cat by the armpits. Carries him around like a teddy bear. (He learns not to fight it lol)

- This is made funnier by the fact that she's 6'3, and I HC Gordon as 5'2.

- Has chronic pain in her legs and missing eye.

- So many body insecurities. So many.

- Intrusive thoughts galore. Do you know how many times this girlie has vividly imagined tearing her friends apart? Hates it with a passion.

- She becomes pretty cynical, but she tries to see the best in others regardless.

- Picks up cursing from Gordon, gains quite the potty mouth. I HC that the puppets are literally incapable of cursing until they turn Unfriendly, and Jewel is just Unfriendly enough that she's not blocked from it.

- Pretending to be friendlier than she is is incredibly difficult, so sometimes she'll go deeper into the studio, find an abandoned room, and just tear it to fucking shreds. Goes absolutely apeshit. Sometimes she just needs to let it all out.

And with that, I am done! Please ask questions about her or this AU if you have any, I love her lots and would adore if someone else had an interest in her!

I'm sort of working on a post-TTUFN fic about that last point on Jewel, so stay tuned! No guarantees cause I'm burning myself out a little, but I should have a short one out sometime, at the least :3

See ya!

[starshine-wagner]

Reasons to Hope (part one)

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x F!Reader

Summary: On a walk in the woods, Sam and Rose encounter someone in need of a friend.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, angry boss, toxic boyfriend, cheating, Rose Kiszka

Author's Note: I couldn't stop thinking about Dog Dad Sammy. Oops. I also am impatient so here is part one.

You'd had it. The week's heartache had finally caught up to you, and you needed to just get out. The office could feel so constricting, and the break room was certainly not where you wanted to spend your hour on lunch break. So, you headed for the woods.

You were lucky that your building was right next to a public recreation area. Skyneck Woods had all sorts of walking trails, fields, benches, playgrounds, and paths to enjoy. Here, it was almost as if the stressors of your job, your family, and your broken relationship couldn't reach you. Here, there were no deadlines, no tensions, and no checklists.

You grabbed a snack from your bag and set off onto one of the many trails. The further you went into the woods, the less you could hear the cars on the main road, the kids on the playground, and the static frustration in your head. It was a silent retreat, and for that you were grateful. After the reaming you'd just received from your boss, you needed silence. He'd been patient with you all week, but, when you forgot to place an important order, he had to lay it on you. And so, here you were. Boots in the dirt, heading for God-knows-where.

--*--

After the weekend you had with your long-distance boyfriend, you had admittedly been useless at the office. Apparently, it wasn't good enough for him to plan for a relaxed weekend in. He had insisted on going out when all you wanted to do was spend time on the couch watching Bachelor and eating Chinese. Just like you used to at home. You explained how exhausted you were, how you missed just getting to hold him, but he wasn't having it.

"God. Honestly, Y/N! It's like we never do shit anymore. I don't want to watch your stupid fucking show. And when was the last time we even fucked? Like-"

"Don, please-"

"I only see you every other weekend and it's like every time I do, you wanna play fucking house. I'm tired of spending my hard-earned money and time to drive all the way here just for this," he motioned to the living room, "and some mediocre head."

You weren't sure what compelled him to say such a stinging remark. But you knew exactly why your hand went up to slap him across the face. His hand caught your wrist, though, just before you could make contact and slap some decency into the man who was supposed to love you.

"Nice try. I'm out. If you need me I'll be at O'Leary's. Who knows? Maybe finding myself a lady willing to put out for once," he said as he slammed the door shut, leaving you alone in the apartment.

He'd been becoming more and more of a dick these past few months. Even his name was dick-ish. Donovan. Who the fuck named their kid Donovan? Worse, who thought it would be a good idea to date a guy named Donovan? You, apparently. It wasn't the first time he'd thrown a tantrum over something like this. Once you moved to Nashville while he stayed in St. Louis, things had started to change. He got angrier. Impatient. It was like the boy you fell in love with in college had morphed into someone you didn't know. Long gone were his sweet gestures and gentle caresses. No more were the "good morning" texts and the random flowers.

Not having the energy to cry when he left, you simply fell back onto the couch. You reached for your phone to check the time when you realized Donovan had left his by the pillow next to you. You hadn't meant to even look, but a notification caught your eye. A message.

Katie (8 min ago): You think so, baby? I'd say you were just as good.

Baby? Who the hell was calling him baby? Who was Katie? Oh, now this was something. Just as you were getting ready to helplessly text your best friend, Donovan came crashing through the front door once again.

"Fucking forgot my-"

"Who the fuck is Katie?" you interrupted. You stood up from your spot on the couch and marched over to the door, where he still stood in its frame. The instant look of shock on his face told you everything you needed to know. But he still played the game.

"Katie? Katie who? What are you-"

"Shut the fuck up. Katie." You threw the phone towards him and it clanged onto the vinyl floor. "Hmm?" You crossed your arms and waited, mostly so that you wouldn't ball your fists in his direction.

"Babe I don't know what you're trying to say here. Katie is on my sales team. We-"

"Your sales teammate calls you 'baby' now? That's fucking rich."

"I don't know what you want me to say. I don't even know her that well, like, she- Actually, no. No. I'm not going to explain myself to you. I haven't done whatever you're thinking. And fuck you for doubting me, Y/N." He with a final huff, he shoved the phone pointedly in his pocket, shut the door, and left.

Needless to say, your weekend ended with more screaming matches, a half-assed excuse, a confrontation with this Katie, and a bitter goodbye. Donovan was gone. You were finished. Though you knew it was a long time coming, and probably for the better, it still hurt. It still made you question what you could've done wrong. Why you weren't enough. What Katie had that you didn't.

--*--

With the events of this weekend replaying through your mind, you found a spot to sit some half-mile or so onto the path. Nobody was around, and it was midday, so you figured it was a good a time as any to let the dam welling in your chest break. Criss-crossed on the log, you let your head fall into your hands and wept.

You wept for the old you. The one who dreamed of a life with Donovan. Who imagined 3 little mini-you's running around a fenced-in yard while the two of you held hands.

You wept for the current you. The one who was hurting and betrayed and broken and helpless. Who couldn't seem to catch a break.

And you wept for the future you. The one who you didn't know yet. You prayed she was happy. You wished she was successful, and loved, and cherished. All the things you weren't.

It was a relief to be able to get it out. The pain you'd been holding in all week was too much to carry in silence. So, you didn't hold back. You allowed the sobs to come from deep within your chest, emptying out the caverns of your broken heart into nature. You remained like that until you thought you had no water left in your body to cry out.

Then, a shuffle of leaves caught your attention. You figured it was a squirrel or some critter just pattering around. But soon, the rustles got louder and closer, until finally you saw a dog skipping right towards you. Now, this would have been a welcome surprise if it weren't for the reality that the presence of a dog meant the presence of a human somewhere nearby.

"Rose! Rose Bud Kiszka," someone yelled, feigning severity. "Get back here- I have treats!" you heard a man calling down the path. You stood up to try and start walking away, but she was too quick. The dog had jumped into your lap and you were twisting and bending to keep her from licking right into your face. Her muddy paws were soiling your work pants with dirt and you tried to get her down, but it was no use.

"Rose! Shit. I'm so sorry-" Her owner had finally caught up. "Rose no!"

You managed to pull your face away from her excited sniffs to reply, "No, it's fine! Don't- oh!" Just as you spoke, she licked right into your mouth. Not the worst thing in the world, but definitely a little gross.

He wrangled her back by her harness and attached her to the end of the leash. "I'm so sorry. Seriously. I kinda assumed nobody would be out here so I let her off..."

You finally had a moment to look up at Rose's owner as he rambled on and- oh. He was... yeah. Your brain took a stalled out for a second taking in the attractive man before you when he spoke again.

"Are you- oh my God. I'm so sorry she made you upset. Did she hurt you? She's usually not-" He seemed overly apologetic. You realized, then, that your face was probably puffy, red, and dreary from the cry you just had. Snot was likely gathering somewhere on your face, and you clearly looked rough. And the poor guy thought it was because of his dog.

"No! Please. Don't apologize. I was just- it wasn't her! Promise." You gave him a small smile and beckoned for Rose to come towards you again, proving your point. He slowly led her over to your side again, though slightly more calm.

"What kind of dog is she?" you asked, changing the subject as quickly as possible from your emotional display.

"She's mainly a pit, but with bits of terrier and boxer mixed in. My little mutt girl. Aren't you, my Rosie?" he smooshed the top of her head with his hand and slipped into his doggie voice, causing you to chuckle. Cute.

"Aren't you just precious!" you agreed. "And how old?" By this point, she'd made herself comfortable sitting between your legs while her owner stood facing you.

"She just turned one year, actually. Still a pup!"

"Well she's lovely..."

You continued to pat her head as she sat in a glorious bliss. Clearly, she loved the attention.

"I'm Sam by the way," he smiled. "Mostly Polish with a bit of German and French mixed in. 24 years old." Oh. So he was funny too? And his teeth were perfect..

"Nice to meet you Sam. I'm Y/N." You stood up, wiping your now-dirty pants down, much to Rose's dismay. So, you reached down to satisfy her need for pats at all times. Sam quirked up an eyebrow, still hung up on the way that he'd found you.

"Are you sure you're okay...?" he pressed.

"Yeah! No. Sorry, I'm fine. Just... long day." You went to smooth your hair back, only to realize it had half-fallen out of place. Great.

"I get it. More than you know, unfortunately."

You rocked back and forth on your heels, feeling a little awkward, before deciding to put the man out of his presumed misery.

"Well, Sam, Rose. I hope you have a good walk! It's a beautiful day for it."

"Oh we will! But I'm not quite sure she's gonna want to move on," he suggested, looking down at Rose. "You might just have to join us."

"Don't let me ruin your walk! I was just gonna head back actually..." You looked down see Rose's snout exploring your left jacket pocket. Ah, yes. The snack you'd brought and neglected to eat. She found it.

"I don't know! I think she likes you too much. Walk with us? Just for a bit and then we'll see you off?" he insisted. You considered it for a moment before giving in. This Sam and his eyes were just too sweet to say no to.

"Alright then."

The three of you set off down the path together. Sam asked you a bit about yourself, your work, where you're from and what you're doing in Nashville now.

"It's a great city. Really. I've only been here a few years, but it already feels more like home than home ever was," he explained.

"Home?"

"Michigan. A random German town with a lot of Christmas decorations. And world famous chicken!"

"World-famous, you say?" You kicked up some rocks as you went, attempting to distract yourself from staring at his slender fingers on Rose's leash.

"That is exactly what I said. But I never said it was any good..." he peeked over at you with a sly smile.

You laughed nearly the whole walk and were amazed at his ability to set you, a total stranger, at ease. Conversation seemed to flow so easily. He spoke about his brothers and his sister. He asked for your thoughts on the Space Force and whether you think that we really landed on the moon or not. And the way he said things was so casual, yet elegant. He spoke of the beauty in the mundane things in life. He pointed out the colors on the trees as you passed by a particularly beautiful section of the woods. Sam mentioned that he was a big jazz guy and played music with his brothers, much to his father's pride. He stopped plenty of times to give Rose some love. By the time you neared the end of the path, finishing almost a two mile loop, it was hard to believe you'd only just met. As cliche as it sounded, it felt even more so.

"Thanks for convincing me to tag along. I needed that little break," you admitted. He only gave a shrug in response, as if to say I told you so. Looking at the time on your phone, you realized you only had a few more minutes to get back to the office. "Shit. I gotta run, though. My boss will literally kill me if I come back late."

"Okay, okay. At least text me when you get back? Just so I know you're alive?" He snuck the phone out of your hands and shot himself a message.

You: Sam Kiszka. Weird guy from the woods.

"I will." You gave goodbye pets to Rose before scurrying as fast as you could towards the office and back to your desk. Settling in, you tried to look as unfazed as possible in front of your boss. Then, your phone dinged.

Maybe: Sam: Alive?

You smiled to yourself.

You: Yes! THANK GOD.

You quickly saved his number into your contacts.

Sam Kiszka 🐶: Glad to hear it. Drinks later? If you're not busy.

You: I'd love to. You pick where!

You had big plans with your couch that night, but you were she'd understand.

Sam Kiszka 🐶: O'Leary's, then. 8?

You: See ya then :)

(to be continued)

edit as of 2023: im so sorry I didnt make another part lol but im stuck. maybe one day Inspo will strike!

[yournotsolocalcryptid]

Whatever Happens

6/?

PREV (One) / NEXT

tags: @transeliot @mentallyunstablebish @sarah0687 @cjand10 @warmommy if you would like to be added or removed from my writing tag just lemme know :)

Summary: idk man, fluffy stuff, tending to wounds, mini heart to heart typa vibes

Pairing: Billy/Four x Gender neutral reader

Word count: 666

Warnings: fluff, tending to wounds, cuddling american writing a brit, poor writing and editing skills etc

It was dark when you finally woke up. You lay in the quiet for a few minutes then hauled yourself off the bed and grabbed new materials for Billy's wounds. You found him laid out on his back on the couch with one nodding off in the chair. You turned on the lamp by billys head and saw the other man jerk awake as you did. You assumed he hadn't intended to fall asleep or let his guard down but you paid him no mind and continued. You knelt by billys abdomen and gently lifted his shirt above the bandaged area and carefully started removing those as well. You ignored his stare as you inspected the wounded area. You went in with some disinfectant just to be safe, which caused him to hiss, then you secured the new gauze and threw out the old. you then took a disinfectant wipe from your first aid kit to the remaining open wounds on his head. Some were healing well and some were bad enough that it was going to take more than just a few days to see progress. As you tenderly blotted then you were grateful neither of the two men had said anything and you hoped they wouldn't. You finished with the last one on his face and you noticed another near his collar bone which you gave the same treatment. As you pulled away his hand caught yours and he brought it to his lips and gave a quick kiss, you assumed in thanks. You turned, tossed the wipe in the trash and returned to your room, all the while you could feel his big beautiful puppy dog eyes on you. 

    You lay on your bed, back facing the door. You stared at the wall in the dark, zoned out and numb. You heard the door open and close softly behind you. You didn't move, you knew which one it was   Billy lay beside you. You both stayed silent for a long while the he said quietly “im sorry. I’m-” his voice cracked “so fucking sorry, love” 

   You didn't respond, you just lay there willing yourself not to cry, as you knew billy was too. After you you don't even know how long, you rolled over and lay your head on his chest as you’d done so many times so very long ago and murmured “we will have to talk about it eventually you know.”

   “I know” 

You both remained awake and in that position for hours, silence filling the room. Eventually your mind wandered to the man in the other room. You were surprised he was keeping his mouth shut and minding his own business, you were also surprised he was still here and it begged the question, why? Why was One still here and why had he told you so much? 

   You sat up “BIlly?”

   He hummed in response 

   “Why is he still here? And why did he tell me all that?”

   “not  entirely sure. His behavior is odd, even for him. I expected him to come for me and find me, I didn't expect the rest.”

   “is he gonna kill me? Is that why he…” you trailed off

   “No. I don't think thats his intention and I would never let that happen”

   “then why?”

   “Not sure, love. I’m as confused as you are.” he reached up and gently starts rubbing small circles on your back. It was soft and reassuring. He’s here and you're safe, but you cant help but doubt how long it would last. He left before he might again, but something deep down told you he’d never leave your side. That this was somehow different than before and he’d never do it again. You weren't sure if this feeling came from your soul, heart, head, gut, intuition, context clues or if you were just deeply delusional but here you were believing the man who’d lied, left and faked his own death when he said “whatever happens, I’ve got you”