#i have to wait until i feel more mentally sound though lol

[lostjudgmnt]

i need to do my “my mom’s trying to send me to a religious community” replay of wktd soon

[ronearoundblindly]

I just want to start this off by saying you are one of my favorite Steve writers of all time I can’t believe I just randomly found you one day. Every time I read something I think “oh this is her best” and then I go to something else and literally the same reaction so thank you of sharing this for free. The comfort reading your Steve stories give me is unexplainable.

LOL the funniest thing is I found your works on ao3 first and at first I didn’t click the tumblr there so when I found the CEO au here I was like “um excuse me who tf is plagiarizing — oh wait no same person. Thank god”

So I don’t know how you feel about writing about pregnancy and kids but Steve having to deal with that especially in the Sun Salt and Shield AU is so hilarious to me. Is there a hc you have about that? Or just in general about them getting more serious. I love that you didn’t take the easy way out and just “Splash”ify the mermaid reader.

Um🥹😚, all of this is great, and I'm not trying to just skip over all your lovely compliments (also, good looking out on the plagiarism because that issue's going around again 🥲). I just want to jump right into the headcanon of pregnancy and kids for Sun, Salt, and Shield.

This is mostly rambling. Sorry it's not well-formed, but there *might* be a chapter of fic percolating from this. No warnings. No detailed talk of pregnancy or birth, only vague reference.

Just the other day I revisited an ask about MissG/Doll not having the more humanoid body of idk-what-to-call-them classical mermaids?? And I wondered if that (the classic look) could have been a blended species from way in the past between deep sea mermaids and humans--essentially, would Doll and Steve have children that looked more like what we typically see as mermaids?

It's an interesting train of thought, and, frankly, perfectly logical. If they had a kid or kids, that's likely how I'd do it.

However--and this is a big HOWEVER,--I am admittedly not a big fan of pregnancy, kidfics, and all that 'adorable' parenthood stuff. Sounds a little cruel that way, but there you have it. I'm me. I make things more complicated than they need to be.

I would make pregnancy a different experience from humans. Doll's kind would have a different mentality toward offspring than humans. Some hilarious and/or angsty misunderstandings could ensue.

For example--because I don't think too deeply into these matters, shhhh--based on the sheer size of her whole species, I don't think deep sea mermaids visibly look pregnant like humans. Their hips simply get wider and they sort of thicken all the way through their torsos to mid-tail. Honest to goodness, humans truly just think Miss G is getting fat, but just in a 'putting on weight' way, not a nasty judgy way. In this event, and since you/G do not have the vocabulary to explain, your pregnancy goes unnoticed until it is very advanced.

To you, this is a common inevitability in the sea between mates, but there isn't the type of hoopla--for lack of a better term--surrounding the process.

So you're pregnant? Big deal?

Ummmm, wow, the wheels are really starting to turn on this, but also your species doesn't have a calculated sense of time. You live in mostly darkness (and the ambient/changing light of other mermaids' tails), so you wouldn't have any real way of explaining how long gestation for a baby is. Likely, the kid would grow super fast, too. Means Tony still doesn't know the average lifespan of your species because there are no common/known markers to describe how long your 'elders' have been alive.

Stuff I haven't worked out yet: would the child of a deep sea mermaid and a human be able to live in either native environment? That's where I'm thinking the lower-depth, classic mermaid comes into play; still has fins, can breathe air for short periods (but longer than you), probably can't handle heavy pressure for very long though (since you spend far longer in a pool, not the pressure chamber asleep, than most deep sea-ers while pregnant), and is lighter colored in scales and features than you due to the shallower water (more affected by sunlight).

I do think it would be cute for the child to have Steve's blond hair and blue eyes simply because that is unheard of in your species (as are the paler scales and armoring. I should mention that since you have lavender eyes--i.e. very light sensitive--human blue eyes are comparatively dark.

You'll notice I'm not saying son or daughter. When newborn young...I don't think anyone can tell if the child is male or female. I don't thing G's species cares, and I think you'd be very confused by how intently Tony and Steve try to figure that out. Conceptually, it simply doesn't matter at all what sex the kid is until puberty, and even then...it still sort of doesn't??

Hmm. That's all I got on this for now, but I sense I could probably come up with some interesting angst with a happy ending from it.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Not that it matters, but I love 'Splash.' I've learned that it's fine to explore fantastical things to all sorts of degrees, and as almost all of fandom can tell you, fluff is great, fluff is necessary, and fluff keeps us afloat. Big HOWEVER, it is not okay to wash away anyone's race or heritage (in this case--obviously fake--a species' culture). Be respectful. It's that easy.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@fandom-has-taken-me-hostage @leah2901 @blogbog710

[withered--s0uls]

OKAY, I think I'm done for now.

@electrozeistyking and I a little while ago talked about how GD!N would react to DAS!Cyn. They went on about in a reblog but basically he would be extremely happy bc DAS!Cyn is a separate entity to the Absolute Solver, therefore meaning she's not the one behind everything.

So at first they probably both would be extremely happy. DAS!Cyn in her own AU upon meeting N first is absolutely terrified that he might hate her after everything the AS made her do. So the fact GD!N would react very positively to her presence would be a huge a relief to her.

Now, the issue is that the "Dormant" in "Dormant" Absolute Solver is in quotations for a reason. It simply lost interest in her as a main host / had no need for her anymore. It still has admin rights over DAS!Cyn and she still has a Solver Form. Though she doesn't use it by choice bc of PTSD triggers (until possibly a specific point in Ep7 but I'm waiting for ep8 to decide).

So yeah I think that would make both GD!N and DAS!Cyn kinda anxious to put it lightly.

(More Art and stuff under cut because this crossover has been living RENT FREE IN MY HEAD)

Also fun fact

@electrozeistyking has mentioned and shown Beanie finding comfort in the sound of her fathers core.

Well funny story.

DAS!Cyn always was comforted by her brothers core back at the manor, when they first reuite at the start of Ep6 and she sees DAS!Uzi summon her Solver wings and tail, her instinct is pressing closer to DAS!Ns chest for comfort. Her memories of the Solver features are very very blurry, but she is triggered by seeing them regardless.

I thought It was cute the girls have that in common, so I decided to draw them and GD!N sleeping with the girls having their heads close to his core :3

OKAY FINALLY WE GET TO THE DOODLE PAGE

I didn't feel like fully making these so they're sketchy doodles :"

The first two are based on Zeisty saying GD!N would probably pick DAS!Cyn up and spin her around. Also you probably noticed between this doodle, the first drawing & the Tiny!N & DAS crossover post, but DAS!Cyn displays flowers on her visor to emote happiness!

The 3rd and 4th are just random interactions between the kiddos lol. I feel like Beanie probably would be happy to have another Auntie, not to mention one closer to her age so they can do silly kid stuff together. DAS!Cyn... oh boy

She would feel a whole range of emotions; grief about missing so much of her brothers life (like he has a kid ffs), guilt and self blame after finding out what happened to Uzi (she blames herself for everything the AS caused, even tho she never agreed to it) which might end up in a "slight" breakdown, anger at the AS for causing GD!N that kind of pain and eventually once she processed all those emotions she probably would be excited to get to know Beanie. Like!! Imagine finding out you have a little Niece!!

She probably would struggle to easily keep up with Beanie bc she still has motor issues like in canonverse so she's a little slower, so it'd be mostly her trying not to fall over her own feet whilst being dragged around by an excited toddler who probably even with child lock is stronger than her lmao.

Also I drew DAS!Cyn in an alternate outfit bc I wanted to actually kinda show the oil reserve canister,,,

Ok wanting to respond to the hashtags specifically bc :)) yay

Also ig this is some DAS lore fact drops lol

Yeah, DAS!Cyn kinda didn't take it well either when she first realized the AS technically can still take over if it really wanted to after she transferred bodies in an attempt to escape. Imagine getting your core nearly crushed in an attempt to flee from robo satan just to find out entity STILL can use you for their bidding. Like!!! Damn that's not fair the kid nearly fucking died trying to break free!!!

DAS!Cyn definitely would want to spare Beanie the horrors too. DAS!Cyn herself is mentally like 7-10/11 at best 6-9 at worst -- despite kids usually just saying whatever comes to mind, she repressed most AS related stuff for a reason, she definitely wouldn't share what she knows with her newfound niece

I feel things would be either super great and happy or super traumatizing depending on when in the timeline we throw DAS!Cyn at them. If she's there during ep 6-7? Oh boy. Oh no. DAS!Cyn & DAS!N have an exchange during Ep7 that would not go over so well if it was GD!N in DAS!Ns place, because it would be awfully similar to GD!Uzis death -- she doesn't die, because DAS!N can't get himself to shoot with her being so close to the AS, despite her literally shouting at him to do it and that she won't be angry, that'll be fine. -- yeah I don't think GD!N would handle that well 😭 Zeisty feel free to get the angst train rolling if you wanna add your two cents on how that'd go over -- any point before that? Probably fine. Post S1? I'd imagine also fine depending on what Ep8 throws at us (except like... look at ideas list for more info*)

I'll assume that'd be Beanie reacting to seeing DAS!Cyn having the Solver tail and possibly the glitching Solver symbol in her visor. Yeah she definitely would try to play it off and go try and hide somewhere until she can get it under control again. High stress or negative emotions causes her Solver to act up (unrelated to the AS, just her own Solver form without the entity controlling anything!!) So what I said above to her reaction to the news of GD!Uzi being dead? And possibly finding out the reason why? Yeah that might trigger her tail and wings to pop out and her to basically be reduced to a hyperventilating ball on the floor because of proceeding to blame herself for all of GD!Ns suffering due to thinking the AS actions & it being a danger are her fault

Other things I kinda wanted to doodle but didn't for now, might do at a later point;

Cyn still has a Solver Core, which is the same as a DD core (except smaller lol). So I was playing with the idea of Beanie noticing that her core sounds different from GD!Ns due to hers being severely damaged and actively leaking after the AS attempted to crush it during the body transfer. DAS!Cyn then trying to play it off

Some kind of acknowledgement of the Oil reserve canister on DAS!Cyns back, it was made by Tessa before the AS did the medurder and stuff. It's supposed to help keep the Solver in check by preventing overheating, hence why its directly connected to her chest where her core is

There was something else but it slipped my mind

Smth I'm not gonna say publicly for now until Zeisty posts something about it and/or eventually posts the chapters bc I don't want to spoil esp not bc it isn't my place to :" (if you're curious, Zeisty, lmk I can tell you in VC or DMs lol) but it partly would possibly be related to the 1st idea listed

* I have an idea for what happens to Cyns original body (the one the AS uses & that wears Tessa) post Ep8 IF Ep8 let's me do it that is. I think it could be fun to crossover that idea bc of GD!Ns ghost sight.... tho it definitely also would be fucking stressful and trauma inducing bc Solver stuff sooo yeah rip (again, if you want I could elaborate in vc or DMs on this bc I want to first wait and see what the season finale brings before I do anything "official" with this)

GD!N reacting to the information that DAS!Cyn canonly shot "Tessas" gun at the AS (well technically at its tentacles. Point being that kid fired a gun/knows how to use one) -- which again could be very interesting if we were to toss them into the same Ep7 bc that's when she does it

Possibly GD!N finding out ab the scars/cracks surrounding DAS!Cyns core bc,,, yeah

Anyways uuuhh heightbsheet bc I'm 99% sure I drew stuff inaccurate

These were actually so fun to draw and think & talk about. I'll post the GD x IC crossover once I'm done with that (yes, yes there is more than what you already saw Zeisty. Not much more but more nonetheless)

[deanstead]

Model Husband

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x Reader

Requested: yes, by @lelaartt

Summary: Stressful day, but at least there's Connor.

Word Count: 819

Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship, mentions of death

A/N: I know I haven't posted in a while, but this has been sitting in my drafts for... forever lol. Please bear with me, this semester is kinda crazed.

CONNOR RHODES MASTERLIST

It had been a long day. A long draining day and Connor was just looking forward to seeing you and having a quiet night together.

Figuring he’d check if you were ready, Connor left the doctor’s lounge still in his white coat, taking the lift right up to the ICU.

As he stepped in, he caught sight of you immediately, running towards one of the rooms where there was an obvious code blue, a rush of staff heading towards the room.

Connor stood to the side against an empty side of the station, quietly watching as you worked quickly to assist the doctor standing next to you.

It must have been a tough day for you too, Connor caught himself thinking as his eyes followed you. Anyone else would have missed it - the slight droop in your shoulders, or the way you stood telling him you had that persistent ache at that one point on your shoulders that kept coming back to haunt you.

Connor looked down as he picked up on the sounds of “Clear!” from the doctor that was working on the patient. But Connor also knew well enough the chances…

He held back an audible sigh as the faint sound of a flat line made its way out to him. Now, the look in your eyes told him he really needed to get you out of there.

You looked up, catching sight of your husband now. Even just seeing him from afar made you want to cry, so you gave him a small smile and he nodded, telling you not to worry and that he’d be right there waiting.

If anyone asked how you’d gotten from the hospital back home, you’d have to ask them to ask Connor.

You were drained, both physically and mentally. The knotted ache in your shoulder that was consistently giving you issues was acting up again, you felt dead on your feet and the ICU had lost three patients today.

You weren’t exactly emotionally attached. You were an experienced enough nurse to handle that well, but even so losing patients was draining no matter what.

“Here.”

Connor handed you a plate and you smiled up at your husband from where you were seated with your legs crossed on the couch.

Like a model husband, Connor had insisted on preparing dinner while you took a hot shower which had definitely made you feel a lot better even though the knot in your shoulder was still there.

“Thanks, babe.” You answered, not realizing how hungry you were until the smell of pasta reached you as you took the plate in your hands.

The both of you ate in mostly silence, but Connor sat close by and that in itself made you feel better and you glanced at your husband, who returned you a smile.

Connor took the empty plate out of your hands and you frowned.

“You already cooked.”

Connor shook his head. “Just fulfilling my husband duties.”

“I knew I married you for a reason.” You announced in a sort of teasing fashion that would have been more convincing if you weren’t so exhausted.

Connor just smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before you heard him patter off to the kitchen, flipping on the stereo on his way.

Music was now playing softly in the apartment and you closed your eyes for a while, the faint sound of running water from the kitchen mixing together with the soft music tones. This was the kind of evening you needed, especially today.

You opened your eyes again when you felt Connor’s hands touch your shoulder from behind you and you glanced up at him.

“What’s going on?” You asked with a smile. “Is today a special day I don’t know about?”

The words were barely out of your mouth before your brain started working, trying to figure out if you had forgotten a date or something.

Connor shook his head. “Relax. The ache’s been bothering you today, hasn’t it?”

You felt his thumb press firmly against the knot, and you exhaled, the stress seeming to leave your body almost instantaneously.

You closed your eyes, feeling Connor’s fingers seemingly press out all the negative feelings and stress from the day.

Angling your head upwards again, you reached up for his hand. “You must be tired too, come here.”

“You sure?”

You smiled, tugging gently so that Connor would make his way back around to the front of the couch and next to you.

“This is the best way you can help me recharge.” You said, fitting yourself right into his arms , both of you sprawled on the couch.

Connor smiled, his arms looping around your body. “Me too.”

You chuckled, resting the back of your head against his chest, feeling the edges of Connor’s stubble against your temple and knowing this was the perfect way to end a stressful day.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

[spectersgirl]

Hiii Harvey Specter x reader and they're in a section relationship because she's Mike's younger sister/best friend??

I’m assuming you meant secret relationship, so that’s what I went with for this!

I've also seen a few people writing for a prompt like this recently so I really hope I'm not stepping on any toes, I tried my best to set myself apart so nothing is too similar <3 also this feels crazy long lol

----

Secrets, Secrets.

Harvey Specter x Reader

"Harvey Specter's office," Harvey answered his phone with a suaveness that let you know he recognized the number ringing through to this direct line, as opposed to being connected by Donna's line.

"Wow, so this is what the handsome Harvey Specter sounds like... I wouldn't know since I haven't been able to see him in DAYS." You whined, knowing it wasn't exactly the fault of the man on the other end of the phone, but choosing to complain anyway. Mike and Rachel had been staying with you in your apartment for the last week, something about the water in their building being off, which meant any chance you had of spending nights with Mike's boss was at a zero.

Harvey sighed, hating to hear you upset, and missing you himself. He would've been more than willing to let you stay with him at his place over the last week, however, he knew better than to let you lie to Mike. You were a terrible liar, and the whole thing would blow up in both your faces in about three seconds. You'd only been seeing each other for about 2 months, and up until now it had been pretty easy to hide from Mike. He didn't suspect a thing, so you didn't exactly have to lie.

"I know, pretty girl. I'm sorry. I miss you too. Do you know when their water will be back up and running?"

"I think they said they'll be gone by tomorrow." You paused for a moment, thinking about how, even though you'd be able to be with Harvey again, you'd still be hiding in plain sight from your big brother. "I wish we didn't have to keep this from him..." You said, a bit dejectedly. You and Harvey had both agreed that once things were really serious between you two, you'd tell Mike the truth, but the time felt like it was dragging. The longer you waited, the more torturous it felt not telling him.

Harvey's heart ached, he wanted you happy more than anything else in the world. To hell with your agreement, he was ready to tell Mike, even if it got him punched in the face.

"Let's tell him" Harvey said, shocking you. A big smile crept across your face, you couldn't help the way your heart leaped at the thought of going public with Harvey. You were still nervous about how he'd react, though.

"Okay, deal. Let's tell him in public though. Just in case things get... violent." You suggested. Harvey chuckled at this, knowing you both had the same mental image of Mike's fist in Harvey's face.

"That sounds like a good idea. Meet me in my office at 9am tomorrow, I've got some time between clients and Mike has a meeting out of the office at 10:30."

"9am it is. Alright baby, I'll let you get back to work. I just wanted to call 'cause I missed you. I'll see you tomorrow" You said. You wished you were in his arms now, but happy that come tomorrow you could finally be out in the open.

"I'll see you then gorgeous." Harvey replied, a small smile on his face as he hung up the phone. He was facing the window, and so wrapped up in his conversation that he hadn't noticed Donna walk in and seat herself on his couch.

"Who was that?" She asked excitedly, making Harvey jump about a foot in the air. "That was Y/N, wasn't it?"

"That was none of your business, don't you have work to do or something?"

"I'M RIGHT, IT WAS!" She nearly yelled, now out of her seat and standing in front of Harvey at his desk. He had on his best poker face, trying not to let Donna see any semblance of a reaction. "You're totally dating her. Have you guys told Mike? Can I film it when you do?"

"Can you PLEASE go... answer an email or something? Anything but this." Harvey pleaded, desperate for this conversation to be over. Maybe Donna would get amnesia from the last five minutes and never mention it again. At least, not until after tomorrow. Mike absolutely could not find out about this from anyone other than himself and Y/N or it would be a complete shit-show for everyone.

"Fine, but only because I actually do have a lot to do today. We WILL continue this conversation later. Secrets secrets are no fun, Harvey! Oh, hey Mike! I was just... leaving!" Donna said, smiling at Mike who was standing in the doorway.

He watched her leave over his shoulder before turning back to Harvey.

"What was that about?" He asked, gesturing at Donna. Harvey absentmindedly waved a hand and brushed it off as her being dramatic.

Mike shrugged, seemingly having bought the excuse. Harvey mentally sighed a sigh of relief as he barely listened to the words coming out of the younger man's mouth. Something about the case he was working on, but Harvey couldn't focus. He was actually starting to get nervous about telling him. He knew how much you valued your brother's opinions since he was really your only living family, and he already loved Mike like his own brother. Disappointing him and losing you because of that might just kill Harvey, at least it felt that way to him. Even though you hadn't been together all that long, he knew deep down that you were it for him. He had never felt this way with any girl before, even Scottie couldn't compare to what he felt for you.

Eventually, after giving half-assed answers that Mike was apparently satisfied with, he thanked Harvey for his help and went back to his office, leaving Harvey to himself for the rest of the day until he poked his head in to say goodbye when he left that night.

The time until he finally got to see you the next morning both crawled and flew for Harvey. On one hand, he couldn't wait to hold you again, however he wasn't exactly looking forward to letting Mike in on your secret.

The drive to Mike and Harvey's office felt like it took forever as you practiced what you'd say to your brother over and over in your head. You finally arrived, texting Harvey that you were heading up in the elevator. When you got up, he was waiting for you in the lobby. He smiled politely, acting like merely an acquaintance, not wanting to cause any suspicions. You followed his lead, acting casual as you weaved through the halls behind him.

He took you into his office, sitting you down on the couch. Your hands shook as you smoothed out the sundress you wore. Harvey noticed, because of course he did, and gave you a sad smile.

"It's gonna be okay, honey. No matter what he thinks, or says, I will always be here."

You blinked back a few tears, nodding.

"I'll always be here too, Harvey." You whispered.

He squeezed your shoulder before going to get Mike. You practiced breathing exercises as you waited for them to enter, and when they finally did, your heart nearly beat out of your chest.

"Y/N? What are you doing here? Are you okay?" Mike asked, immediately concerned you'd gotten yourself into some kind of trouble.

"She's fine, we have something to tell you, Mike," Harvey said "Take a seat."

Mike looked between the two of you before sighing.

"Don't tell me, you guys are... together?" He asked, his tone nothing short of uncomfortable. The idea of you and Harvey hooking up made his stomach turn.

"Uh, yeah. We're together." Harvey said, and Mike sat quietly.

You nervously interjected before he had a chance to respond. "We wanted to wait to tell you until we were sure it was something real and... It is. Please don't be mad, Mike. Harvey makes me really happy and I promise we didn't mean for this to happen we just-" Mike held up a hand, cutting you off.

"Y/N, it's fine. I appreciate you telling me, and if you're happy, so am I." He said, a weight falling off your shoulders. "But, if you hurt my little sister, we won't be having this same conversation." He warned Harvey. Harvey grinned and nodded in understanding.

"Thanks, Mike. I'm glad you're being so cool about this." You said, leaning over to hug him. When you finished, Mike stood up to shake Harvey's hand.

"Now, if you guys don't mind, I have work to do so I'll see you guys later. Mike said, leaving the two of you alone in the room.

You stared in silence for a moment, shocked at how well it had gone over. You felt like he was going to come back in screaming, throwing things, something. But he didn't.

Harvey snapped out of his shock before you, sitting down beside you and taking your hands in his.

"Well, now that that's over..." He began, leaning in to kiss you. A shiver went up your spine, you were fuzzy all over with joy. Finally, you could kiss your boyfriend in public, in front of anyone you wanted.

"What do you say we go out for a celebratory dinner and drinks tonight?" Harvey offered.

"I'd love that."

"Hi, can I interject? I was SO right!" Donna said before going back to her desk to celebrate her yet again correct intuition. You and Harvey couldn't help but crack up, leaning into each other as he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. Finally, he felt a relief he didn't even know he was craving all this time.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey friendo can I make a totally self indulgent request for Morpheus being soft and in love with pre-K teacher reader (I’m Going Through It and need some soft Morpheus) 🥺

"TEACHER! HE HAS MARKER IN HIS EYES!"

Dream of the Endless x Preschool Teacher!Reader

Summary: (... no, Tim, that's eyeliner.) In which Dream decides if it is inappropriate to come to you in his human form at work, then he will be will have to do so in another.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Kids lol, gender neutral!reader, touch deprived!dream, kitty meow meow dream (real), fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: BESTIEEEEE OMG YOURE HERE ASKING *ME* FOR SOEMTHING AISHFL:AHSFHASLFHASLFHA OMG LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO dang i started to hate what i wrote (because of tim T_T HAHHAH jk) then thought to start over until my brain woke me up with an idea and now its 12am and im finishing this so i hope you like it baby <3 headcanon: the gif is dream waiting for you to finish with work in the playground nearby the school T_T RIP

Previously on: I'm Dating An Endless Being With No Concept of Personal Space or Boundaries

I let out a shriek when I enter my classroom and find a tall man standing there by my desk, just looking at the entrance, waiting for me.

"DREAM!" I quip under my breath, "are you crazy?! What you doing here?"

The pout on his lips intensifies upon hearing my words.

He was not expecting the reaction he merited. Usually, when he came to school, he was received with eager attention, even by people that he did not want attention from. He vividly recalls adults complimenting him to you and some children shouting things about him at you.

Dream knits his brows, "have I done something to upset you?"

I give him an incredulous look as I cringe at the sound of a child crying from outside. I push past him and get what I came here for the first place, a box of tissues.

I feel Dream watch me as I grab the carton and give him an annoyed expression, "you better not be back here when I return, Dream."

"I didn't mean to sound-" "You hate me." "I don't hate you! I was flustered I-" "You don't love me anymore" "Dream, baby, that's not true." "You'd rather be with those kids than me." "I was at work." "I would never send you away if I was working." "I know. But that's also because you're your own boss and-" "I just wanted to visit..." "I know! I know, and I'm sorry." "... I forgive you..." "Thank you." "... even though you hurt me..." "..." "... and love those kids more than me."

"TEACHER TEACHER!"

I take a moment before turning to the caller, just as the boy screams again, "TEACHERRRR!"

"What is it now, Tim?"

"THERE'S A CAT IN THE CLOSET!"

"A what?!"

I grab Tim before he can even think to touch whatever cat managed its way into our classroom. All the children crowd behind me upon hearing after. With the small child in my arm, and my leg fending off the rest of the kids from going any closer to the closet door.

"Ok, Tim, what exactly did you see in the closet."

"A black cat."

I narrow my eyes and hum, "are you sure it wasn't just a sweater."

Tim shakes head, "it," he meows exaggeratedly, "at me."

I release a huff, "alright, it seems we have a cat to save."

The kids fuss as I put Tim down, and he then bounces excitedly at my words with the rest of his classmates.

I place a finger to my lips as I look between my students, "we don't want to scare the kitty, now do we?"

Immediately, the kids start shushing each other.

I ask the kids to move as I slowly open the door, in case the kitty thinks to lunge or run away. Instead, I am met with wide eyes and a meow that leaves the kids squealing.

There is another chorus of shushes and I bend and slowly outstretch my hand out to the cat.

The sweet thing rubs its black face against me, then its black body, and all at once it's very clear to me.

"Dream?"

Hello, my love.

I slap my hand on my face and fall to my butt when I hear the mental reply.

"Teacher!" Heather calls in concern, "are you ok?"

I turn to her as Dream walks out the closet and nuzzles by my ankles.

"Did the bad kitty bite you?" a distance voice calls.

Dream does not take kindly to the accusation and looks at the direction of the child who spoke.

"No, my dear, Dream did not-"

"Who's dream?" I recognize Luca's soft voice.

"Is that the name of the cat?" one blurts.

"OHEMGEE TEACHER IS THAT YOUR CAT?!"

This sparks a heated debate amongst them.

"Children," I finally have the wits to speak, "settle down and go back to your seats," I get to my feet.

There is a public outcry, and instead, the children surround Dream as he retreats under one of the desks. They try to stroke at him, and I wait for him to react the way cats do when they're disgusted, but he does not.

"Children, please, don't touch the cat."

They obviously do not listen.

"Teacher, your kitty is very shy," Libby comes up to my side and grabs my hand, "my kitty is very naughty."

I smile at her and point, "that kitty is very naughty too."

The sound of Dream meowing (in protest) makes the entire class burst into a fit of giggles.

I huff as I bend back and beckon my naughty lover, "come here, pretty boy."

Dream does not waste time and dashes over to me, practically leaping into my arms. He purrs when he is against me, and nuzzles his face in the crook of my neck.

The class lets out a chorus of awws.

"TEACHER CAN I PET YOUR KITTY!"

"I WANT TO PET THE KITTY TOO"

"What's the cat's name again?"

"I don't remember."

"I WANT TO NAME THE CAT OREO!"

"GERALD!"

"Children, please," I interrupt for the nth time, "we have to bring the cat outside."

There is a public outcry.

The clamoring children cry out in protest and I eye the cat dirtily as he continues to snuggle against me. I release a huff and raise Dream in my hand, a la Lion King.

This surely stops the children. They look up at the dangling paws of Dream with wonder.

"Right," I say, "I reckon one cuddle each, then he's going out the window."

"I understand why you like being with those children now." "Again, I was doing my job." "Yes. A noble job, with many benefits." "..." "They were all surprisingly gentle." "..." "I am excited to see them ag-" "You do know if you cause another frenzy in my class again, I'm locking you up in a cage and sending you to a shelter." "..." "..." "... perhaps then instead of a cat, I-" "DREAM I SWEAR-"

[hitomisuzuya]

Yandere! Kunikuzushi x fem!reader. Some smut.

This is something little I wrote more for myself because I am feeling insecure, especially about my writing. It's 4:30am for me, and I tail spun hard into Kuni brain rot about an hour ago lol. And I wanted to give a little bit of a model on what my Yandere! requests would look or sound like when I snap to answer them and wanted to test myself a little. Please enjoy. This was a little self indulgent, ngl.

It only took Kunikuzushi a few weeks to have everything about you memorized and photographically cataloged in his head.

Every little thing you did, well, he thought it was magic. He had every mannerism memorized, especially the way you smiled at him when you gave him headpets and called him cute. He craved headpets and praise from you.

The way you walked, your stride confident, even and perfectly spaced. He even knew how long your stride was, not really understanding how he was able to calculate it with a moments glance.

There was one habit in particular that would make him mentally tap his chin for hours while he tried to figure it out. You would rarely ever look in a mirror. You even told him that you could brush your hair going only by touch. He thought you were a genius because of that, by the way. He couldn't comprehend why you wouldn't like mirrors. You were most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

Kunikuzushi always followed you like a shadow, waiting, counting the seconds until you glanced over your shoulder at him, asking him to catch up so you could talk to him better. He loves the sound of your voice. It was the most beautiful, soothing sound he'd ever heard. He would listen to you talk all day if you let him, resting his head in your lap, smiling as he played with your hair.

He loved your hair. It was soft, long and, silky. He didn't understand when you said you hated it when your hair curled slightly on the ends sometimes when it dried. He would occasionally (very often) asked you if he could braid it.

Kunikuzushi would watch you outside your windows for hours. He didn't care if you were sleeping, doing chores, or reading. He wanted to watch you. Breathe in the sight of you as thoroughly as he could.

Even though you were strong and capable, you were also vulnerable and he needed to protect you because you lived alone in Inazuma. Everyday he would go your parent's graves and thank them for giving birth to you. Why won't you just ask him to live with you permanently? He already was constantly over at your house. You would always lean out your window and tell him, "I don't mind if you stand there and watch me, Kuni, but you can come inside anytime you like." His heart leapt the highest when you did that.

He thought you would be horrified when you caught him watching you touch yourself one night. But you didn't and he loved you even more for that. And he didn't think that was possible. You always amazed him in a new way everyday.

When he finally got the nerve to ask you if he could sex with you, you said yes. He loved that you were blushing because he could feel his cheeks flushed the same way.

Kunikuzushi would spend hours into the night doing foreplay alone, marking your skin in deep, possessive love bites as he explored and learned about your body. He committed every sensitive place on a map in his head instantly. He wanted you to corrupt him.

So he then could in turn do the same to you. He would great care in leaning what you liked. He was determined to mold you exactly to his tastes. You were already perfect for him. His soulmate. But corrupting you would make you more perfect for him.

[storiesofsvu]

A Dangerous Game Ch 4

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, minor talk of CM type violence, smut, fingering, oral, face sitting, daddy kink. Sorry not sorry at how long this chapter is. LOL. A/N: Emily's taglist is now up to 50, so if you find that you're suddenly not being tagged it's simply because I haven't seen you interacting with fics at all or in my notifs (while i understand that yes, life is busy, we have things like school, work, families that take priority over reading/interacting, there are also people out there who fill out a taglist form and then are never heard from again) and i want to be able to tag the people who are actively reading things, or at least bookmarking them to read later kinda thing.

Emily woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand, her eyes scrunching as she tried to avoid it but knew it would likely wake you up if she didn’t silence it. To her surprise when she rolled over the hotel room was empty, the sheets on your bed tossed back and you were nowhere to be seen. Sitting up she swiped open the messages on her phone, discovering that you and Spencer had found a lead and were already down at the precinct starting to put things together despite the sun not even being up yet.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Emily nearly grumbled as she strode into the bull pen, making a beeline for the coffee and you let out a small laugh.

“I managed to knock over the entire toiletry shelf when I showered and you didn’t budge an inch, I assumed you needed the beauty sleep.” Your voice had half a tease in it and Emily did her best not to roll her eyes, “figured we’d loop you in once we had something.”

“Which we do.” Spencer cut in, gesturing toward the white board, his laptop open with Penelope on a video call on the spare desk.

“And?” Emily asked.

“Wilson was right about the bracelets.” Garcia began, “we looked through everything and we found one in the exact same colours in the first case with the name Lorelei embroidered into it. The girl’s name was Jessica and the parents don’t know and Lorelei, so y/n made the call to start looking at men who had lost a daughter or sister around the age and description of these girls.”

“The unsub had some kind of contact with every one of these girls before they were abducted.” Spencer explained, “he was using the bracelets to mark them, to make them feel safe, so they’d be easy to spot in a group.”

“Updates?” Emily glanced between the three of you right as the rest of the team finally came into the building, tuning into the conversation and settling into the area.

“I’m waiting on a couple of run throughs but I’ve got three names and addresses for you already.” Penelope replied, clacking away before the swoosh noise echoed through the speakers and everyone’s phone’s pinged, “good luck.” She shot a grin to the camera before it went to black and the rest of you turned to each other.

As it turned out, your hunch was incredibly right, and it didn’t take long before you were able to track down the unsub. He’d watched as his younger sister was stalked, kidnapped, assaulted and killed, his parents wanted nothing to do with him, committing him until he was eighteen and allowed to be free, resulting in more tragedy for everyone else. Considering your find Emily let you take lead in the field and made sure you were comfortable with the take down before letting you have that too. She felt a little twinge of worry sending you in with a mentally unstable unsub, but everyone had your back. Instead she was pleasantly surprised with how well you handled it, you remained calm the entire time, though in her opinion as unit chief you did lower your weapon a little too early, but had she been in your position she would have done the same. It was about earning trust and getting him to let the girl go, let her come to you before he could be arrested to make sure she wasn’t harmed.

The entire unit let out a collective breath of relief when everything was finally done, and thanks to your overnight work, it was barely passed noon. Paperwork was tedious as always, but it managed to be finished shortly before dinner time, the BAU team finally making their way out of the local precinct.

“Well, we’re considering that a win,” Rossi started, clapping Morgan on the back as the group left the office, “should we get dinner, maybe some drinks?”

“You buyin?” Derek asked with a grin and Dave laughed.

“Only if it’s at that bar by the hotel.”

“Honestly, all I need are a good order of chicken wings and mozza sticks.” You laughed and Rossi cheered.

“Wilson agrees!”

“They have deep fried pickles?” JJ asked with a grin and Rossi let out a playful scoff with a nod, accepting that he would foot the bill for dinner and some drinks as everyone laughed, climbing into vehicles.

*

There wasn’t much surrounding the hotel you were staying at, meaning the diner down the road and the bar across the street saw a lot of the team over the last couple of days. It wasn’t anything fancy, not particularly a dive bar, but the vibes were there. Just big enough that patrons weren’t up in each other’s business, mainly regulars spread through the space, a couple of dart boards and a single pool table. The group’s table was covered in appetizers half picked through as everyone wound down from the case with a couple jugs of beer. Everyone was in good spirits, joking and bantering across the table, Derek was currently in a battle with Spencer, attempting to get him into a round of darts where the loser had to pick up the next round. Spencer in turn was trying to turn it around into a game of pool that he had a better chance of winning and Derek was firing back about how there was only one pool table, it could be hours before it freed up and the drinks were looking pretty empty. Spencer fired back with something about the statistics of the game which fired up an entire playful argument until you finally stood up, clapping Spencer on the shoulder,

“Okay, okay, boys simmer down. I’ll get the next round; no more arguing let’s try to keep the team spirit up.” You laughed, grabbing your wallet.

“You really are all about the team spirit, aren’t you?” Emily cut in with a smirk and you shot her a glare.

“Don’t…”

“Aw, c’mon, I’m sure we can find some pom poms somewhere, show off your moves Wilson.”

“You were a cheerleader?” JJ cut in and you let out a huff, rolling your eyes before glaring at Prentiss.

“I told you that in confidence!”

“Yeah, sure.” Emily laughed.

“Ohoho… so you play dirty?” You raised a brow and she grinned your way.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Before anyone else at the table even realized what was happening Derek cut in, leaning forward in his seat to get a better eyeline toward you.

“Were you a like, go team, yay sports rah, rah cheerleader, or a it’s its own sport, competitive cheerleader?”

“Competitive.” You said with a huff, quickly stepping away from the table before anyone else could get their questions in and you moved up to the bar.

Much to your disdain, by the time you returned to the table with fresh pitchers of beer the conversation of cheerleading was still going on. At the very least it wasn’t being directed toward you, and more a general conversation topic, but you knew it was only a matter of time before Emily would reroute it back to you and bombard you with questions.

It appeared that whatever higher power was up there tonight was on your side by the time everyone was just over halfway through their third round. Derek, while complimenting the actual competitive cheerleaders, was also lowkey mocking the stereotypical ones who merely pranced around with pom-poms doing silly arm movements and cheers. He went to demonstrate said arm movement and managed to aggressively knock over the beer that he’d just refilled. The glass somehow managed to not break but the entire pint splashed its way directly onto Emily who let out a dramatic gasp, attempting to jump back from the table, swearing in Derek’s direction.

There was no holding back, the table bursting out into laughter, especially as Emily grabbed an onion ring and hurled it in Derek’s direction. Through his laughter he did his best to apologize, swiping a pile of napkins so she could dry off, though the attempt was futile, she was covered in beer.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave.” She sighed, pushing her chair back from the table, “Morgan’s buying the next round on my behalf.”

“Hey! C’mon!” He protested and she simply laughed, waving a quick goodnight to everyone before she left the bar.

Rossi managed to grab a cloth from the bartender and actually get the table cleaned up while Derek got the next round for the group. Things seemed to calm down a little bit after that, you were picking at the plate of deep fried pickles with JJ, answering a few questions here and there about your past cheerleading, thankful the rest of the table had moved on with different conversations. The pool table finally freed up, Spencer and Derek disappearing in that direction and the three of you left at the table decided to call it a night, knowing it would likely be an early flight home the next morning.

You swung the door to your hotel room open, unsurprised to hear the shower running after Emily’s beer mishap. You flicked on the tv for some noise, mainly to alert Emily that you’d returned, you didn’t want to scare her when she came out of the shower. Wandering around the hotel room you made sure you’d collected everything previously scattered around the space, packing up your go bag and plugging in your iPad and phone. You took a couple of minutes scrolling through your phone, clearing notifications before making sure your alarm was set for the next morning. Standing from the bed you began stripping out of your clothes, folding them up into your bag before you found yourself distracted with the tv, zoning out from reality while your attention was focussed there.

“You always wear such lacy shit under your work clothes?” Emily’s voice broke through your trance and you jumped, turning to her.

“Jesus.” You swore, unsure whether it was because of her scaring you or the fact that she was wrapped in an almost too small hotel towel, water droplets still clinging to her skin, her hair pulled up off her neck to stay out of the shower stream. She bit her lip between her teeth, trying to make sure her eyes weren’t lingering on your body for too long and in the minute of distraction you managed to find your words, taunting her with the same phrase she’d teased you with at the bar. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Emily chuckled, a smirk taking over her cheeks as she stepped up to you, “it is rather fun to use my imagination.” Her hand raised, fingers ghosting over your jawline, “though as pretty as that lace is, I’d prefer it off.”

“But…” You breathed out, the proximity to her, the fact that you were both only seconds away from being naked, the alcohol surging through your veins, everything was fighting against the ethical thoughts in your brain.

“What’s the harm in one more night?” Emily asked, her voice dropping, fully as affected as you were in that moment, though she dropped her hand, wondering if she should take a step back.

“We shouldn’t…?” You managed to actually string the words together, even if there was a question at the end, because you knew that rules didn’t fucking matter to you, especially right now.

“If you don’t want to then we can forget this, I’ll get dressed.” She was about to actually step back when the words slipped from between your lips and she the spark surge through her body.

“Like hell I’m letting you put clothes on right now.”

She chuckled darkly, closing the space between the two of you, her lips meeting yours in a fiery kiss, one that both of you moaned in to. Neither of you could help it, it had been too long, too many days of yearning to feel the other’s body against yours, too many nights of pretending it was them touching you instead of your own hands or toys. Emily’s hands wound around you, easily undoing your bra and you let it fall to the floor, a second later and they were groping at your chest, pinching at your nipples and you let out a whine into the kiss.

Emily took advantage of that, slipping her tongue into your mouth, groaning over the taste of you, one she had been craving for weeks. Your tongues danced with grace against each other and it wasn’t long before your fingers slipped into Emily’s towel and it fell to the floor. She practically shivered, exposed to the cool hotel room air and in retaliation nipped at your lip, pulling a gasp from you that broke the kiss.

“You still going to be daddy’s good girl?” She husked, her lips kissing right below your ear and it was your turn to shiver.

“Yes…” you felt your body pulse at the way she kissed down the column of your neck, knowing you were going to lose all your coherent thoughts in a mere matter of minutes. Instead your hands ghosted up her sides, toying with her chest, squeezing her, feeling the vibration of her moan against your skin as she continued to kiss your neck. One of your hands slid down her body, slipping between her legs and Emily sucked in a heavy breath, her eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your fingers sliding through her folds, “I want to taste you.”

Emily felt herself flutter at your words, a small chuckle escaping her lips before she bit into your neck, her hands resting on your hips, tugging you to her as she backed herself up towards one of the beds. Your lips met once again, moving with grace as you fell back onto the bed, shifting slightly so you were both comfortable as your hands roamed each other’s bodies. Emily wasn’t about to protest as you began to crawl down her body, leaving little kisses and nips on her skin as you went, her legs practically falling open the instant you were between them. She’d been aching for your touch for as long as she could remember, each time your fingers brushed hers, every moment that you’d poked her to get her attention she’d wished the feeling would last a little longer, that your hands would find their way to where she really wanted to be touched. Your hands grazed up her thighs, a hand sliding onto her pussy and your fingers spread her open, a small swear leaving your lips.

“Fuck…”

She was already glistening in the low light of the hotel room and you weren’t about to waste a minute before your mouth surged toward her, wrapping around her lower lips and you sucked her into your mouth briefly. Emily let out a light gasp, one of her hands shooting down to tangle into your hair and you couldn’t help the grin, knowing you were on the right path. Your tongue lapped out, swiping through her, flicking at her clit and she shuddered before you returned to her cunt, tongue dipping in as far as you could. She tasted like absolute heaven, better than you ever could have imagined and you knew that you’d never be able to get enough, burying your face in between her legs.

“Oh fuck…” she whined, “just like that angel…”

You groaned into her, the vibration sending shivers down her spine, her thighs twitching around you as you continued your movements. Your tongue pulled out as much of her wetness as it could, smearing it around her pussy, nose nudging against her clit and she gasped. You shifted your mouth up, lips wrapping around her clit as you sucked it into your mouth, tongue dancing patterns across it and her hips rocked up suddenly, a moan leaving her as her fingers tightened in your hair.

“So good.” She praised, her eyes fluttering shut as her head dropped into the pillows, heat coursing through her body.

Your mouth dropped down again, eager for another proper taste of her, sucking her juices from her while her hips rocked against your mouth. She let out a quiet cry, her legs threatening to squeeze tight around you and you let out a small chuckle, knowing the vibrations from it were enough to make her gasp once more. You shifted back up to her clit, a heavy broad lick across it before you wrapped your lips around it again. Emily let out a whimper and you felt yourself pulse around nothing at the sound, the desire to make her come growing larger with each second that passed. Your hand snuck up, toying with her dripping cunt before slipping two fingers in and she moaned.

“Fuck, yes baby… oh fuck!”

Even with just one pump of your fingers you could already feel her pulsing around you, pussy wet and warm around your digits. You thrusted them in time with the way your tongue was lapping over her clit before they curled within her, searching for that sensitive spot. It took a couple of tries but when she cried out, her hips jolted up off the bed and you knew you’d found it, not letting up as you continued to fuck her. Your fingertips brushed against the spot with each curl of your fingers, your mouth increasing suction around her swollen clit with each thrust of your hand you could feel her pussy pulsating around you, little whimpers leaving her lips as her body began to shudder.

“Oh fuck! Fuck!” The cry escaped her right as her hips thrust up, her fingers clenching in your hair, holding your face into her cunt and her body shook, juices dribbling their way down your wrist. Emily panted, thankful that you pressed a gentle kiss to her clit before your mouth left her body, your fingers gently fucking her through her orgasm.

You barely had enough time to crawl up her body before she was praising how good you were and flipping you on your back to return the favour. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that she was as talented with her mouth as she was but you still found yourself gasping for air, your entire body tingling at the way her tongue lapped through you, teasing at your clit with each lick. Her hands pinned your hips down to the bed, giving you only a little leeway to rut up against her, begging for more contact. Your breath picked up, your chest practically heaving when her fingers slid into you and her mouth wrapped around your clit.

“Oh god!” You cried out, “fuck, fuck.. feels.. so, fucking good!” A hand found its way into her hair, tugging at the roots as she continued to eat you and you couldn’t do much more than whimper. Her fingers pumped inside you, your pussy clenching down around them harder with each thrust of her hand, electricity shooting through you as the coil got tighter and tighter. It didn’t take much longer, a hard thrust from her hand as her tongue flicked against you and you were coming, body trembling, juices leaking out onto the bedspread as Emily chuckled against your skin.

You were smarter than to think that the two of you were done after only that, Emily crawling back up over your body, lips meeting yours in a lazy kiss while you caught your breath. Her lips trailed down your neck, teeth nibbling at your collarbone before she sucked a nipple into her mouth and your breath hitched in your throat, your nails scratching into her skin. Your hands began to trail across her body before one of them found its way between her legs again.

Neither of you were sure how many rounds you had gone, or how much time had passed since you first stepped into the hotel room and neither of you cared in the least. Emily currently had you on your back, fingers deep in your drenched pussy, squelching sounds echoing through the room as she straddled your thigh, grinding down onto it, smearing her juices along your skin.

“You’ve got one more in you angel, I know you do.” She cooed, her fingers crooking inside you and you groaned, your body jolting toward the touch, your thigh clenching just right that you pulled a gasp from her as her hips rutted against your body. The pleasure was prickling just beneath the surface of your skin, causing a shimmer of sweat to be contributed to the stickiness in the room.

“Fuck… fuck…” you cried, “more! Please daddy!”

Emily shifted forward, two of her fingers slipping into your mouth and you happily accepted them, tongue swirling around them, sucking them deeper between your lips. You figured it was an attempt to keep you quiet, but you didn’t care either way.

“God, look at you.” She murmured, a dark chuckle leaving her, “next time I’ll have to pack the strap, I just know those pretty lips would look so fuckin gorgeous wrapped around my cock.”

You released her fingers with a gasp, moaning into the room as the fingers in your cunt picked up their speed, matching the rhythm that Emily was riding your thigh. She shifted her weight back onto it, letting out a low moan before she spat onto your pussy, the spit slicked fingers that had been in your mouth moving to your clit, rubbing furiously. Your hands quickly found her hips, guiding them in the same pace that she was fucking you, urging her to grind down harder on you as a string of whines left your lips.

“Feels good doesn’t it baby?” She gasped, her fingers nearly stilling as they pressed up hard against your g-spot and your body began to tremble, “you gonna come for me? Come for daddy, angel…”

Her breath was ragged, nearly as ragged as yours as you felt the heat burst deep within you, letting out a moan as shook underneath her. She let out a dark chuckle, hand shifting from your clit to brace against your hip, picking up the pace she was riding your thigh. You grabbed at her wrist, pulling her fingers from you with a whimper while you caught your breath, tugging her upwards.

“Get up here.” You muttered, “want you to come on my face.”

Emily laughed, crawling up you as you readjusted quickly before she settled over your face and lowered her dripping pussy to your lips. You eagerly lapped your tongue out, groaning over her taste, one you knew you would never grow tired of; you wanted as much of her as possible tonight, no clue if you’d get another chance or not. She braced herself on the headboard, beginning to ride your face, moaning when your nose brushed against her clit. You shifted your lips upward, wrapping around it, you could tell she was close by how heavy she was grinding down on you, the fact that each roll of her hips was accompanied by a louder moan. Suddenly she grabbed at your hand, pulling your fingers into her mouth, muffled moans vibrating around them before she slipped off them,

“Touch yourself,” she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut, “wanna come together.”

You did exactly as she asked, your hand rubbing at your clit as you increased the strength you sucked at hers, moaning into her cunt, feeling the way her juices were smearing over your chin. Her clit was throbbing between your lips, aching each time your tongue flicked over it and in some miracle she cried out at in the same moment you groaned into her pussy, reaching your peaks at the same time. Her thighs trembled on either side of your face, her fingers gripping the headboard tightly as she tried not to drop all her weight down onto you. Panting, she collapsed down onto the bed beside you, her hand tickling at your bare skin while you both caught your breath.

*

The alarm blared through the room what felt like only a moment after you’d closed your eyes and you grumbled, reaching a hand out to silence it, knowing you had multiple set.

“Please tell me there’s enough time for coffee and breakfast.” Emily groaned and you chuckled, rolling onto your back you grimaced slightly. As you woke up fully you could feel just how sticky your body was,

“More than that.” You replied, “god knows I need a shower.”

You pushed up to sitting, swinging your feet off the bed and the sheet slipped off you, goosebumps breaking out on your skin in the cool morning air. Behind you Emily’s eyes were dragging up your body and when you glanced over your shoulder you caught her smirk.

“What?” You laughed.

“Care if I join you?” She raised a brow and your eyes widened every so slightly.

“Oh.. I thought last night might’ve been alcohol fueled…”

“Certainly didn’t hurt. Still would’ve done it stone cold sober.”

“Well then… I guess you’re more than welcome.” You giggled.

“What happens it Vegas stays in Vegas.” She shrugged, slipping from the bed and you laughed.

“We’re in Atlanta…”

“Saying still applies.” Emily smirked, spanking you before nudging you toward the bathroom.

*

The jet soared through the air, a relaxed vibe shifting through it, Rossi and Spencer were on the left side, half involved in the conversation, half reading their own things. You somehow had ended up beside Emily, across from Derek who was beside a currently empty seat. JJ returned with yet another coffee refill, dropping down into the spare seat with a groan,

“Did anyone else have a terrible sleep last night or was it just me? I feel like I woke up every twenty minutes.”

“Might’ve been the couple up fucking all night that woke you up.” Derek muttered, grin on his cheeks, his voice shifting into a mocking tone, “oh, harder daddy, please!” He laughed, “some people into some kinky shit.”

“Oh please.” Emily laughed beside you, managing to cover up the way her body had stiffened at his words, “as if you aren’t into some kinky shit.”

“Baby girl you wouldn’t even believe what I’m into.” He grinned across at her and she rolled her eyes before he nudged at your foot with his, “what about you, you sleep okay?”

“Like a baby.” You cast him a friendly smile and prayed your years with the FBI was enough to handle covering up a lie.

“Yeah? Prentiss didn’t keep you up all night?”

“What?” You did your best not to stutter and Emily tensed again beside you while Derek let out a loud laugh again.

“I’ve bunked with her before, she snores like a sailor!”

“Oh I do not!” She let out an offended scoff, swatting at him with the book she was holding.

A playful scuffle broke out before Dave called for the ‘kids’ to calm down and things finally did. It wasn’t much longer before the jet landed back at Quantico and you all went about your separate ways, taking the rest of the day off to recoup from the trip. It was only when you got to your car you realized your keys were still in your desk drawer. Letting out a heavy sigh you turned around, trudging back through the building. The BAU floor was practically deserted, but right as you reached your desk you heard an office door close in the direction of Emily’s.

“You forget something?” She asked, shouldering her back as she wandered through the bull pen.

“Keys.” You held up the ring, sliding the drawer they were in shut, slightly surprised when she approached you. From the moment you’d landed, there was something different about her, the way she slipped back into this Quantico role, the one where she was the boss, where this was work and that was it. Something slightly different about the way she held herself. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.” You shot her a smile and turned to head for the door when she called out.

“Y/n!”

“Yeah?” You turned back to her, your head tilting at the frown on her face and you raised a brow.

“It can’t happen again.” Her head shook, “if any of them find out—”

“I.. have no clue what you’re talking about.” You replied and it was her turn to look confused.

“What…?” She fumbled and you simply shrugged,

“What happens in Vegas...”

_______________

@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @softgamerking @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry  @mysticfalls01 @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @alcabots @7thavenger @ladysc @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @disneyfan624 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @gamma-ray-bursts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @bookpillows @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx  @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess  @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @bluetodie @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part nineteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you make some new friends.

a/n: this might be my favourite chapter yet. I had sooooooo much fun writing it, and finally touching on/adapting scenes from the show is bringing me so much joy I can’t wait to get to the meat of it, but the parts between now and then excite me too!!

word count: 6.7k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, if you’ve been reading up until now you know the drill, I’m getting lazy with my warnings LOL, no smut here, a bit of angst, F R I E N D S H I P

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Your days in the radio room have become more and more frequent, since your run-in with Gwen and her crew. It’s like you told Tess; with Hartford gone, you’d lost one of your more consistent meet-ups, and you needed to know what else was out there. You needed new connections, new friends, allies. You needed something. In case Boston went belly-up and needed to get the hell out of dodge and never look back, you needed a soft place to land.

Abe’s garnered quite the collection, over the years, and it’s like everywhere you look, there’s another wire connecting from one wall to the next, batteries that probably shouldn’t still work plugged into far too many devices. His map collection is something to write home about, and you spend some time trying to figure out the path Joel and Tommy took from Austin, but when your finger finds Cincinnati, your chest goes tight, and you return to the room Abe’s set up for just for you, branched off the main room he uses to send requested messages.

You’re still paying him with cigarettes, although some of them are the hand-rolled FEDRA shit that McCoy has a penchant for. The soldier’s other habits always seem to win, though, and you always have at least half a dozen for Abe, who’s quietly grateful, waving you off into the side room, closing the door behind you.

“I don’t wanna know,” he told you when you first asked. It’s been a while now, though you stopped for a while when Nick shot Joel, when you both needed time to recover. “Just do what you need to do, and leave me out of it, okay?”

“So you don’t want any more cigarettes?”

He pointed a finger at you. “I never said that.”

And here you are, one side of the big headphones pressed to your ear. The foam has definitely seen better days, but the sound is relatively clear. You’ve kept a notebook of your contacts, the frequencies they’re usually on, the days of the week and times they’re usually available. Today, you’ve gone through every single one, and no one is out there. So you’re just twisting the dials, the strange sound of the static and frequencies almost giving you a headache, but then—

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’, cuz I’ve built my life around you.

You haven’t heard that song in a long, long time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the last time you heard it was in Joel’s truck, in that field just outside of Austin, staring up at the stars. Fleetwood Mac has always been one of your favourites, and you slide the other side of the headphones over, encasing yourself in the song, shutting your eyes as the music crackles over the radio.

But time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I’m getting older, too.

You can feel the song in your soul. It digs straight into your chest, the crooned lyrics wrapping around your heart and squeezing tight.

Oh, I’m getting older, too.

You let it wash over you, sinking back into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself, tilting your head back on your shoulders and making the cable connecting the headset to the radio stretch. You’ve found a few cassette tapes over the years — namely the same Led Zeppelin album you’d once given Joel for his truck — but you make a mental note to keep your eye out for Fleetwood Mac or Stevie Nicks.

The song finishes, and you sigh, straightening in the chair, reaching out to turn off the radio, fingers brushing against the knob.

“If there’s anybody out there, my name is Frank. I’m on frequency 1462. We have resources, and we are looking to trade.”

He repeats himself again, and then another song starts. More Fleetwood, Go Your Own Way.

Well, shit.

Your fingers fly across the knobs, turning to the right frequency, wincing at the whine as it clicks on. You reach for the microphone.

“Hello?”

There’s a fraction of a pause before, “Oh my god, hi!”

If your years of smuggling have taught you anything, it’s that you can’t trust anybody right off the bat. You have to be wary, you have to be careful. Hell, there are still people you’ve traded with that you don’t trust as far as you can throw. It’s just the way things are.

But fuck, if he doesn’t have the kindest-sounding voice.

“Is this Frank?”

“It is!” he replies, his excitement somehow palpable through the radio waves. “Oh my god, I was starting to think no one was gonna hear that message.”

“It’s a good song,” you laugh, pulling the mic closer to you on the table. “Haven’t heard it in a long time.”

“It’s a classic,” he agrees, and there’s a slight pause before, “Okay, I’m gonna admit, I have no idea how to do this.”

“How to do…?”

“Make deals,” he says, “meet people over the radio. Have you done this before?”

You’re not quite sure how much truth you should offer a perfect stranger, regardless of how kind he sounds. If this is a FEDRA trap, chances are good you’ll be able to blackmail your way out of it. So you settle on, “Once or twice.”

“Am I allowed to know your name? Or is that not…?”

“It’s Liv,” you offer. “Where are you, Frank?”

He pauses again. “I’m not sure if I should…” You can hear the sudden hesitancy in his tone; you know it well.

“Why don’t I tell you how I normally do this?”

“That would be perfect.”

“You tell me what you have to offer, I tell you what I have to trade. We settle on terms, pick a meeting spot and a date, and that’s that. You don’t kill me or my people, I don’t kill you or yours, and we part ways with what we’ve bargained for. Simple.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“But before we get into that, can we at least make sure we’re in the same state? I try not to cross the borders if I can manage it.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” he agrees. “We’re in Massachusetts.”

“Good,” you nod, reaching for your notebook and pen, scrawling Frank’s name on your page, along with the frequency number. “So are we.”

“Coast?”

“Pretty close.”

“Good.”

“So we’re in the same state,” you say, tapping the pen against the paper. “What are you offering to trade, Frank?”

“Tell me something first,” he prompts, and your brow lifts slowly. “How long do your…relationships with traders usually last?”

Your throat bobs, Gwen’s screaming voice echoing through your head, but you shove it away. “Depends. As long as everyone holds up their end of the deal, there’s no real time limit.”

“What’s the longest you’ve traded with someone?”

“There’s a group in Providence I’ve been trading with since 2008. Never had any issues there.”

“Uh-huh, good to know. The thing is, what I’m proposing here, it might not be the same as the other deals you’ve made. We’re well-protected here. My partner, Bill, he’s…he’s a survivalist, and he’s built this place to last. We’re not going anywhere fast, we’re sustainable.”

“Meaning you wouldn’t come to the city,” you say, catching on, and now you’re the one feeling hesitant. “Depending how far out you are, it might not be worth it to us. There’d have to be something worth the risk each time, and I don’t—”

“Freshly cooked meals,” he says, and you stop dead. “Fresh vegetables. Wine, the good kind. New clothes, building materials, and weap—”

“Stop,” you say quickly, cutting him off. “I only trust the radio so far. Give me coordinates, and a date, and we go from there.”

He gives you the coordinates, you scribble the numbers down, and decide on a date, three days from today. You say your goodbyes, and you tell him not to get back on the radio until you’ve met, but to keep playing the music, so you know everything is still a-go. “You like Fleetwood Mac?”

“I love Fleetwood Mac.”

“Then you and I are gonna get along just fine.”

You can’t help the smile in your voice. “I’ve got a good feeling about this, Frank.”

“Me, too.”

“Well, I’ll see you soon, I guess.”

“See you soon. Oh, and Liv?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe.”

It catches you off guard, makes something crawl up the back of your throat.“Thanks, Frank. You too.”

You dial to a different frequency the moment you’re done, shutting down the radio entirely, and leave without a word. Abe doesn’t so much as glance at you as you head out, past the long string of people waiting patiently for him to send their messages.

+

Joel’s home before you are, which is a shock.

His back is killing him. Tommy’s skipped out on every single one of his jobs lately, and Joel feels like every time he turns a corner, there’s something else that needs repairs, another new face asking him to fix something. His hands hurt, he’s got a kink in his neck, and all he really wants to do is fall into bed and have your body curled against his.

He sighs as he gets through the door, brow pinching when he doesn’t find you perched at the table or sitting on the couch, head bent over your maps or flipping through your notebooks. It’s become habit for you lately, wanting to build up your connections more and more, now that Hartford is gone.

The guilt over the entire situation lingers in the back of Joel’s mind, a nagging voice that sounds suspiciously like his brother.

Joel shakes the thought away. He did what he had to, to protect you. To protect his wife, his family.

He did what he had to.

Locking the door behind him, he tosses his makeshift tool bag — a ratty backpack he found at the donation hall before it shut down — into the corner, and flops onto the couch. He slings his hand over his eyes. He’ll just close them for a minute, just until you’re home, until you’re…

A nightmare latches onto him with a vice-like grip, throws him fully out of sleep with a gasp, his chest heaving.

“Joel?” your voice calls, a soft echo across the apartment, and he turns to see you perched in one of the kitchen chairs, pencil between your teeth, your hair falling in your eyes. “Baby, you okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, swinging his legs off the couch, getting to his feet with a groan. He rubs at his lower back as he pads over to the kitchen, coming to stand behind you. He leans forward and plants both hands on the table either side of you, leaning down until he can fit his chin into the curve of your neck, planting soft kisses at your pulse.

“Fine, now that you’re home,” he mumbles, and you lean back into him slightly, turning your head so you can kiss at his, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair. “You were out late.”

“I’ve been home for hours,” you reply, huffing a laugh, setting the pencil on the table. Your maps are all spread out, the big one of Massachusetts on the top. “You’ve been asleep the entire time. Didn’t wanna wake you.”

Joel drags one hand off the table, moves his arm so it’s slung around your chest, curling his fingers around your rib cage. “How nice of you.”

“Best wife ever,” you say, and Joel laughs into your skin. “Oh, and there’s dinner for you. Abe’s wife sent me home with food as thank you for fixing their door the other day.”

“What is it?”

“Something with Spam in it,” you tell him, and Joel wrinkles his nose. “It tastes better than it looks.”

“Noted,” he grumbles, pressing one last kiss to your throat before he straightens, spine creaking as he goes. “Fuck, I’m getting old.”

“I think the grey in your beard suits you,” you answer, turning back to your maps, “just for the record.”

The corner of his mouth quirks as he heads for the fridge, fishing out the plate of food and leaning against the counter. “How was your day, baby?”

Your pencil drops again, and you push your chair back, the legs squeaking against the floor. You turn yourself towards him fully, slowly getting to your feet, taking a step towards him. “I made a friend.”

Joel’s brow quirks. You know a lot of people in the QZ, that much he knows for certain, but he’s really not sure how many of them you would refer to as friends. “Oh?”

“On the radio. His name is Frank.” You turn back to the maps, eyes raking over the paper, your finger finding a spot marked with pencil. “He lives in Lincoln, and we’re gonna go see him in three days.”

He nearly drops the plate. “What?”

“I mapped out the path. It’s a bit of a hike, almost five hours outside of Boston, but—”

“Ten miles?” Joel repeats, and you just nod. “Liv, we’ve barely been outside the city limits, and you wanna hike ten miles to some random stranger?”

“Frank,” you say, your tone almost petulant, and Joel puts the plate down. “They have food, Joel. Real food, not bullshit QZ rations. Wine, weapons, building materials. New clothes. This could be good for us, Joel. Really good.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “You want me to hike five hours for wine?”

“I want you to hike ten miles for a chance at something good, Joel. Something new.” Your gaze drops and you knot your hands together. “Something to make up for what we did, maybe. Somehow. I don’t know. I just…I feel good about this, baby. And it’s just a meeting, to start. I didn’t promise him anything, just that we’d meet, and we’d talk. Then we go from there.”

Something in your voice tugs at him, and for a moment, Joel’s not quite sure what it is, but then it hits him.

It’s hope. It’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded in a long time, and when you take another step toward him, he opens his arms to you.

“The route will take us right past Cumberland Farms,” you continue, and Joel cups your hip in his palm, letting out a quiet oomph as you lean against him, reaching up to twine your arms around your neck. “We can stop there first, stash some stuff just in case.”

“A safety net,” Joel says, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“You were asleep for a long time,” you reply, and Joel just scoffs, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Wait,” you pull back, moving one hand to the middle of his chest, pushing lightly. “Is that a yes?”

“Well, I’m not about to let you go by yourself now, am I?”

+

It’s a long fucking hike.

Thankfully, it’s relatively easy. The path you’d chosen isn’t overly adventurous, no daunting hills or thick forests. It’s mostly open air, rolling fields, forests either side of the roads. The weather is beautiful, which is a plus, though you can feel the sweat pouring down your back as you walk, on the right side of Joel, as always.

You recount the entire conversation you had with Frank to Joel as you walk. Tess had offered to come with you, too, but you decided the two of you would go for the first meeting, and if things worked out, then you’d all go together the next time. You could tell part of her was relieved, and she admitted to you later she had plans to see Robin the same day you were going.

“You got instinct, baby,” Joel tells you after you’ve finished the story, your fingers twined together as he pulls you out of the path of a fallen telephone wire in the middle of the road. “Don’t forget that. I’ve seen it; you know what you’re doing. And if you feel good about this, then I’m game. We see what happens. And if anyone tries to lay a hand on you—”

“Hit ‘em real fuckin’ hard with my bat.”

He grins. “That’s my girl.”

The praise makes your chest warm, and when he’s close enough, you slide yourself against him, slipping your arm around his waist, tugging his around your shoulders. “Your wife is a badass, Joel Miller,” you say, and he barks a laugh, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “In case you weren’t aware.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” he says, his brows lifting. “Believe me, I’m aware. It’s fuckin’ hot. Only reason I married you.”

Now you’re the one that laughs, sliding your hand into his back pocket and squeezing his ass through his jeans. “Jackass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, and squeezes your shoulder, turning his head to kiss the top of your head. “Liv, baby?”

“Mmm?”

“When we get back to Boston, I’m gonna try and talk to Tommy. Make peace or somethin’.”

You nearly stop dead in your tracks. In fact, if Joel wasn’t still walking with his arm around you, you might have fallen over. But you don’t let your shock be known, schooling your face as neutral as possible while letting one brow raise. “Oh, really?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and I just…He’s my baby brother. He’s a fuckin’ idiot, and he’s gonna get himself killed, but he’s family. And we keep going for family, so I gotta fix it. Somehow.”

Slowly, you nod. “You think he’s gonna tell the Fireflies about me?”

“I’ll break his fuckin’ nose if he does.”

“Joel.” You smack at his chest. “That’s not how you fix it.”

“I know, I know. It’s…” Joel shakes his head. “I want to believe he won’t. I really do.”

“So talk to him,” you say with a nod. “See what happens, go from there, and please, just don’t fucking hit each other.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

You continue on, the sun beating down on your every step. There’s not much more conversation, but the silence is easy, a comfort. Joel doesn’t let you wander far, you eventually step out of his grip but your hands are still linked together.

Your stop at Cumberland Farms is brief. In the early days, you brought a stash box to the gas station, tucked it below one of the floor panels. You and Joel mostly empty your packs into the box, some ammunition, a spare knife, food that’ll last a good while. A backup. You pull one of the long-empty freezers over the panel, try to make the trash and debris cover it up, just to be safe. Joel gives you a nod of approval, and then you keep going.

Eventually, the tree-lined road gives way to open space. More hills, dips in the earth. Far in the distance, you see a plane broken in half on the hilltop — an emergency landing gone wrong — and your stomach rolls at the thought of what’s still up there.

But then you turn another corner, and it’s even worse.

Beside you, you hear Joel’s quiet shock. “What in the…?”

You grip his hand tighter, pushing yourself against him, tearing your eyes from the sight before you. “I thought he was lying.”

Joel’s head whips in your direction. “What? Who? You knew about this?”

You swallow hard around the lump that’s formed in your throat. “Early days, after the outbreak. Like, the week after, FEDRA swept through the small towns and evacuated them. Told people they were going to a QZ. And they were, if there was room. If not…” You tilt your head towards the pit.

“How did you know? You’ve been out this way?”

“Never this far,” you answer, shaking your head. “Nick, he…he told me about it.” Joel stiffens, and you squeeze his arm. “He wasn’t part of it, but he knew soldiers that were. It wasn’t just here; it was all over. Across the country. Who fucking knows how many people FEDRA killed.”

“I just don’t get why.”

“Better dead than infected.”

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, and pulls you closer, turning you away from it. Not that it makes a difference; you know you’ll be seeing the half-buried skeletons, the scraps of clothing and the scattered belongings, in the back of your mind for a long time. “Maybe there’s a path through the forest.”

You shake your head. “Just keep going.”

“Liv—”

“Keep going, Joel.”

So you do. You try to bury the sight, try to push it away, try to focus on where you’re going instead.

It’s like you turn the corner, and all of a sudden, there’s a town right in front of you. A small town, to be sure, a handful of buildings, some that have seen better days, and when your eyes land on the nine-foot metal fence around the perimeter, Frank’s wavy voice on the radio echoes through your head.

We’re well-protected here.

He sure as hell wasn’t lying.

As you approach the fence, Joel situates himself in front of you, his expression wary, an arm held out, protector mode on. You get closer, and suddenly it strikes you that you have no idea what Frank looks like. You have no idea who you’re looking for.

But you’re pretty sure it’s not the large bearded man with the giant fucking gun pointed at your head.

Instantly, you’ve both got your hands in the air, Joel still a half step in front of you. “What do you want?” the man barks, lifting the gun a little higher, switching between aiming the barrel at your head and at Joel’s.

“We’re here to see Frank,” you say instantly, nearly tripping over the words. “I’m Liv, this is Joel. I spoke to Frank on the radio.”

“Oh my fucking…Bill, put the gun down!” another, strangely familiar voice shouts, and over the larger man’s — Bill’s — shoulder, you see a slightly smaller man, a touch taller than Bill, but thinner, his hair shorter, his beard a little more well-kept. He’s got a dishrag over his shoulder, and as he jogs up to Bill, pushing his partner aside and reaching for the gate before you, he grins at you.

The gun is lowered, but as Frank pulls the gate open, Bill pulls out the same bio-scanner machine you’ve seen FEDRA soldiers toting around back in the QZ, and your heart sinks into your toes.

“Would you put that thing away?” Frank chides, waving at Bill, beaming at you now as you take a hesitant step towards the now-open gate. “You must be Liv.”

His smile is infectious, and as Bill stows the scanner, your excitement returns. “Hi, Frank.”

“Come in, come in!” he says, and reaches for your hand, tugging you through. “You guys are just in time; lunch is almost ready. Right, Bill?”

“…yes.”

Joel’s a half step behind you now, his hand finding the small of your back as you walk through the gate completely. Bill sniffs as you step past, and closes the gate behind you both, hitting a keypad that emits a loud beep, the heavy sound of magnets slamming together.

You’re at a loss for words as you follow Frank down the street. It looks so…normal. So alive, so lived in. You’ve become so accustomed to abandoned buildings and broken windows; to be around buildings that look well taken care of, a house that looks like it belongs to someone, you’re at a loss.

“This place is beautiful,” you manage to say, picking up your pace to keep up with Frank. “It looks so…”

“Normal?” Frank asks, and you just nod, giving a little laugh. “Cookie-cutter? I know. It’s definitely grown on me.”

“You weren’t always here?”

“Oh, no, not always. It’s been about…three years now? Something like that?” He waves a hand. “We can talk more about that stuff over lunch. You two must be starving.”

You turn another corner, and the most beautiful house stands before you. Two stories, perfect white picket fence out front, planters filled with flowers lining the walkways, the hedges and lawn neatly trimmed. A US flag sticks out from the front of the house, the fabric billowing in the warm breeze, and you nearly topple over when you see the patio furniture set out, four chairs around a table, each place already set, wine in the middle, glasses at each spot.

You and Joel are frozen in place, but Frank continues on, stepping through the small gate in the fence and walking towards the table. Bill stalks past you, heading into the house, and Frank waves you on. “Come! Sit!”

Joel’s hand pushes against your back, his voice low in your ear. “You still feelin’ good about this?”

“Very,” you reply, and let him propel you forward slightly, unable to wipe the grin on your face as you walk towards the table.

You take a seat, Joel sliding into the chair next to you, and Frank produces a bottle of wine, filling the glass in front of you. Joel gives a little nod as Frank fills his glass, and you’ll be the first to admit you reach for the glass quickly, taking a long sip that tastes like heaven. You’ve never been a huge wine drinker; you indulged every once in a while before — the occasional glass if you were out for dinner, and your mom had a penchant for rosé — but this is good fucking wine.

“How long did it take you guys?” Frank asks as he fills his own glass, then the empty seat for Bill. “Easy travels I hope?”

“‘Bout five hours,” Joel answers as you take another sip. “No Infected, and the weather’s good.”

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Frank says, still beaming at you, and you’re smiling into your wine. “We’ll eat first, and then I’ll show you two around. Bill’s a bit…hesitant about the whole thing, but he’ll come around. He’s a big softie.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly. “Sort of.”

As if on cue, the front door opens, and Bill appears, calling Frank’s name. The taller man rises, jogging towards the door and when he turns back, he has two plates of food in his hands. It’s fine china, piled with steaming veggies and pieces of meat, actual fucking gravy and Bill has a bowl of dinner rolls tucked in the crook of his arm.

Frank sets a plate down in front of you, and for a second, you honestly feel like you could cry. “Oh my god, thank you.” Bill hands the other two plates to Frank, then disappears towards the house. Frank goes to follow, but then waves his hand at his partner’s back.

“He can handle the salad himself.” He settles into the seat across from you, gestures to the plate you’re still staring at. “Go ahead, eat! There’s more too, if you’re still hungry after.”

Joel wastes no time, but you wait for Bill to return, saying your thanks when he hands you a bowl of salad that looks fresh from the garden. Your mouth is watering. He just gives you a curt nod, sinks into the chair opposite of Joel, and pulls a handgun from the holster on his leg, setting it beside his plate. A warning, and you see Joel’s eyes dart to it before he glances at you. You sip your wine again, your hand finding Joel’s thigh beneath the table.

“Well, this is just incredible,” you say, breaking the awkward silence that’s settled. “Honestly, it’s just…it’s amazing, truly.”

“Right?” Frank agrees, giving you an almost conspiratorial grin. He picks up the wine bottle from the table, gestures to your glass. “Refill?”

“Please,” you say, holding your glass out.

Frank side-eyes Bill as he picks up the gun, pulling back the hammer with a quiet click. “Could you not, please? They’re our guests.”

Joel stares at the gun for a long moment before, “I’m the same way.”

“Oh, you’re a paranoid schizophrenic, too?” Frank asks, and you have to stifle your chuckle, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t spit wine.

Bill rolls his eyes. “I’m not a schizophrenic.”

Bill and Joel share another glance, and you take another sip of wine before clearing your throat. “Well, I just wanna say, uh, gun aside — which I get, for the record.” You squeeze Joel’s leg beneath the table. “You’re protecting your family. But this is just so nice, and so appreciated, to have a meal like this, in such a beautiful place. It’s been so long since things felt normal, and this…even if we don’t end up working together, I just…thank you. Both of you.”

Frank meets your eyes, holding his glass towards you. “We are working together.”

“We haven’t even—” you start, but before you can finish your sentence, Frank sets down his glass for a moment and gets to his feet, reaching for his glass and the bottle again.

“You know what?” he says, giving you a grin. “Let’s go inside. Liv, I wanna show you something.”

You feel Joel’s eyes slide back to you, his brow furrowed deeply, and you squeeze his leg one more time before you’re getting up. “Actually, I’m dying to see the inside.”

“Let’s go,” Frank continues, ignoring Bill’s protests. “Bring your wine.” As you follow him towards the house, he pauses to let you catch up, turning to you. “Like I said, he’ll come around, he just…takes a while.”

You can’t help your chuckle. “Reminds me of Joel.”

As you step inside the house, you’re at a loss for words. Antique furniture, beautiful paintings, and it feels like a home. A stark contrast to your apartment back in Boston, which has felt more and more like just a place to keep your stuff. Especially since Joel showed up; wherever he was, that was home.

You dance your fingers across the piano keys as Frank turns towards the dining room, a large mahogany table taking up most of the space, matching chairs, an old grandfather clock, a covered desk. You don’t have enough of a musical ear to know if the piano is still in tune or not, but then Frank calls your name, and you wander over, sipping your wine as you go, careful not to let it spill.

“This place is amazing,” you comment, and Frank grins, turning to rifle through one of the desk drawers. “Did you and Bill find this place? I’m shocked it’s in such good condition.”

“No, Bill has always lived here,” Frank answers, still searching for something. “I was heading for Boston, after the Baltimore QZ fell. There were ten of us originally, but by the time I ended up here, I was the only one left.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, almost a reflex, and Frank waves you off. “So, you and Bill…you found each other, in the middle of all this?”

He finds what he’s looking for, something concealed in his hand as he pushes the drawer shut, and the grin on his face as he straightens to look at you makes your chest warm. He’s just so charming, kindness radiating off of him in waves. You’re not used to it.

“We did,” he says with a nod, an almost dreamy look in his eye. “It’s hopelessly romantic, isn’t it? Must be the artist in me. And you should have seen this place when I first got here. At least an inch of dust everywhere you looked.”

“Bill’s not much a cleaner?”

“He’s practical, but he forgets to pay attention to things sometimes. But he’s learning.” He smiles. “We all are.”

You scoff a little laugh. “That’s a good way to put it.”

Frank holds the thing he’d fished out of the desk to you. “For you.”

Your jaw drops. Fleetwood Mac. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” he laughs, putting the cassette tape in your hands. “It’s yours. Landslide is on side B.”

“Frank, I can’t—”

“You can,” he presses, chuckling at your protest. “A token of appreciation for travelling this far to meet with us.” Before you can refuse, Frank turns, refilling his glass where he’d set it on the table and sinking into one of the chairs. “Now, tell me how this works.”

+

The majority of the afternoon is spent following Frank around, him showing you the numbered but incredible sights Lincoln has to offer. It feels like stepping into a history book in the best kind of way, and that feeling of normalcy, the white picket fence only adds to it.

“So, how long have you and Joel been you and Joel?” Frank asks. You’re in the clothing boutique, poking through the racks of clothes. Frank told you to pick out an outfit, and you’re taking your choices very seriously, your mind torn between desperately wanting something cute while knowing you need something practical.

“Hah. It’s, uh, complicated?” you reply, your voice hitching on the word. You rub the sleeve of a green sweater between your fingers, savouring the softness. “We knew each other before the outbreak.”

Over the top of the rack, you can see Frank make a face. “That doesn’t sound that complicated.”

Before you know it, you’ve told him everything. It throws you, to trust someone this quickly. But, he invited you into his home, trusted you not to turn on him and his partner, his family. And that warmth he seems to radiate, it just adds to it all, making you feel like you’ve known him much longer than you have.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” he says after you’ve given him the whole story. “So you were together in 2001, then you moved to Boston, then shit hits the fan, you’re still in Boston, and Joel shows up five years later with his brother and another woman?”

You nod, flicking through a rack to find a pair of black jeans in your size. “Yes, Tommy and Tess.”

“And Joel and Tess were a thing when they first got to Boston?”

“Yes.”

“Then Tess broke it off with Joel, and you two got back together? And she’s one of your closest friends?”

You nod again. “Yes.”

“And Tommy is…?”

You sigh. “Tommy is even more complicated. I think I’d need another bottle of wine before I even start talking about Tommy.”

Frank grins. “All the more incentive for you to come back.”

“As if I’m not already convinced.”

Outside the boutique, you can hear Joel calling your name. You glance at your watch. “Shit. We probably need to start heading back.”

“Take those,” Frank says, gesturing to the jeans in your hands. He has the green sweater you’ve decided on in his hands. “I told Bill to pack up some food for you too.”

You head out of the boutique and towards the gate, and as you approach, Joel and Bill walk out of the house, Joel’s bag slung over his shoulder, looking a bit fuller than it had when you arrived. He hands you your own bag, and Frank hands you the sweater as you crouch down to stuff the clothes in your bag. “You’re sure about this?” you ask, pulling the Fleetwood Mac cassette out of your back pocket.

“Of course,” Frank answers. “Don’t think of it as a gift. You’ll come back in a few weeks, and we’ll trade. 

“We will. And I’ll bring Tess, like I said.”

“Oh,” he continues, glancing over his shoulder at Joel and Bill, who have stopped a good ten feet behind you, “and I had this idea, that we should use codes for the radio. Y’know, just in case someone’s listening. I know you were worried, the first time we talked.”

You nod. “That’s a great idea. What kind of code are you thinking?”

“Music,” he grins. “Sixties, seventies, eighties. We’ve got this book on Billboard hits we could give you. Sixties if there’s nothing new, seventies if we’ve got something new, eighties if there’s trouble.”

“Eighties for trouble,” you repeat, nodding again. “I like that.”

“Good,” Frank says, and you get to your feet. “I gotta say, Liv, I felt good about this before, but now? It’s nice, so nice, to have new friends.” He reaches out, puts his hand on your arm. “And yes, before you try and deny it. That’s what we are.”

You can’t help your grin. “Friends.”

He grins back. “Friends.”

Joel and Bill have been talking the entire time you have, and when you glance back, you see Joel heading toward you, squinting in the sunlight. “Ready?” he asks as he comes to stand beside you, his hand finding the small of your back again, and you nod. He turns to Frank. “Thank you, for the lunch, and for…” He trails off, gesturing to you. “We needed this.”

Joel and Frank shake hands, and after, Frank pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders. “See you soon.”

+

You get back to the QZ late. You’re both exhausted, worn out by the hiking and the sun and the abundance of food. You’re both drooling over the leftovers Bill and Frank sent you home with, and as soon as you’re through the door to the apartment, Joel pulls out one of the containers, and you eat it with your fingers standing over the sink, both of you laughing at the absurdity of your day.

The next morning, Joel goes looking for Tommy.

Unsurprisingly, his brother has skipped out on his job for the umpteenth time, so as soon as morning curfew has passed, Joel heads into the city, and starts combing the buildings he knows are Firefly hideouts. The third building he’s poking around, and he’s stopped by a woman. She seemingly materializes out of the alleyway, arms crossed over her chest, dark hair tied back. She calls him by name, and Joel freezes.

“You won’t find him,” she says, her voice deeper than Joel is anticipating. “Tommy’s not here.”

Joel turns slowly, regards the woman as she steps out of the alley. She’s dressed the same as everybody else is, clothes that have seen better days, boots wrapped with duct tape. “You must be Marlene.”

“Guilty,” she answers.

“Where’s my brother?”

She looks down at the pavement, digs her toe into the asphalt. “Tommy left this morning.”

Joel’s stomach twists. “Left? What d’you mean, left?”

“I stationed him at our base in Minneapolis,” she says, and Joel’s heart stutters. “He left with a few other men this morning.”

His hands clench into fists. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“I know how you feel about the Fireflies, Joel,” Marlene continues, and the edges of Joel’s vision tinge red. “Tommy told me. And I understand why you would have your…reservations. But your brother just wants to do some good.”

“My brother is a fucking idiot,” Joel spits. “Is that what you told him? That blowing shit up and killing soldiers was good?”

“We’re doing more than that,” Marlene starts, “and Tommy understands that. He knows what he signed up for.”

“Does he?” he replies, and his voice is climbing. There’s a handful of people out on the sidewalks, and some throw glances in his direction. “You turned him against his family. Against his own brother.”

“I didn’t turn him against you, Joel. Tommy made a choice.”

Joel shakes his head. He’s shaking with anger, confusion, fear — every emotion crawled up the back of his throat and making a home there. “That’s a load of shit.”

Marlene digs in her pocket and extends a folded piece of paper toward him. “This is the radio frequency for the base in Minneapolis. Give it a day or two, then try and get through. I know your wife works the radios, she shouldn’t have any problem reaching him.”

He just stares at her, eyes darting between her face and the piece of paper. But finally, the desperation that’s been added to the mix wins out, and he snatches the paper. “If he dies, it’s on you. I’m not responsible for what happens after that.”

“If he dies, I’ll await your wrath, Joel.”

Before he can do anything more, she turns on her heel and disappears, leaving Joel in the alleyway, alone.

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🍓in case tumblr eats the ending🍓

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 21)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

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Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 7,356

Summary: After arriving in Manizales, Horacio introduces Javier to his family, leading to a long overdue heart-to-heart and a drinking game with a twist.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Discussions of coming out, grief, parental loss, canon-typical violence, allusions to period-typical prejudices, drinking game, smoking, swearing.

Notes: Firstly, I will soften the blow of leaving it so long since my last update with the news that chapter 22 will be posted within the next week or so! I decided to split it in half to give more space to the conversations between the characters. So, hopefully that will make up for my elongated silence lol.

Secondly, I finished drafting the rest of the fic at the end of last year 👀 So, I just need to complete editing on chapter 23 and the epilogue. Then, and I can't believe I'm actually saying this, it will be time to leave these two messy idiots to it.

I think it will take me some time to get my head around it coming to an end, not least of all because it's been almost 3 years since I started working on this behemoth. And I can't believe how much has happened/changed since then, yet my love for this ship and this story has stayed strong and close to my heart. So, a bit of a premature thank you to anyone who has supported it at any point since March 2021, it's been quite the emotional rollercoaster ❤️ As always, I love hearing from my readers, so feel free to drop me a comment/message!

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 21: For Old Times' Sake

A haze of mist hung low on the horizon, clinging to the rolling waves of verdant peaks that bled seamlessly together with worn asphalt until it was impossible to tell where the sky began and the earth ended.

Luckily, the tyres of the hire car were built for rougher terrain, and it wasn’t the first time Horacio had driven this route. Admittedly, it would have been easier to fly. But this had the added benefit of giving Javier a taste of undiscovered territory.

If truth be told, it gifted them more time to mentally prepare for what was getting closer with every hour that passed, each stop off to admire the view and refresh a stubborn way to prolong the status quo.

Progress had been slow for the last hour as the congested traffic crawled along the sharp angles of the road with its treacherous drops only a few inches away. They had come to a standstill behind a bus that allowed passengers off to take photos, and with little room to manoeuvre around the vehicle, a trail of cars had no choice but to wait.

Javier lounged back in the passenger seat, one foot resting on the opposite knee, his elbow leaning on the door, and the window half open.

He watched Horacio’s hands on the steering wheel alternate between clenching and tapping, a particular kind of rigidity returning to his jaw for the first time in months – if not years.

Javier made an executive decision by reaching into the glove box. He pulled out an emergency pack of cigarettes and a lighter they had stashed away before setting off from Medellín.

He lifted one out of the pack and sparked up. “So, did you say it’s a farm we’re heading to?” There was no point asking the obvious, so distraction it was.

“A coffee farm on the outskirts of the city, yeah. It belongs to Fabián’s family. He and his brother, Santiago, do the bulk of the work now their father’s winding down.”

“Sounds nice. And kinda familiar.”

Horacio’s eyes finally left the windshield and met Javier’s with a shadow of a smile. “Yeah, it does. A lot hillier than Texas, though.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be hard.” Javier held out his smoke across the car, their first one that wasn’t post-coital in a long time. But needs must.

Horacio apparently agreed as he accepted it with a huff of resignation. “Fine, one for the road.”

“I think it’s allowed on roads like this one.”

“I did warn you.”

“Hey, no, I like it. Keeps you on your toes.”

“It reminds me of when Papá drove us to visit Tia Salomé and Tio Jairo in Bogotá. He and Mamá let us have sweets for the long journey but warned us the Mareco would take them away if we didn’t behave.”

“The Mareco?”

“La Leyenda del Mareco. It was a story we were told as kids. The Mareco’s a red devil that looks like a lizard on two legs. He steals children’s candy and conjures up a whirlwind to blow them away if they don’t obey their parents.”

Javier nodded in recognition as Horacio passed their cigarette back. “La Llorona was the story used to scare me and my cousins.”

“Oh yeah, we got that one as well.”

“I gotta say, the Mareco explains a lot.”

“About what?”

“About how you developed a problem with authority.”

“What’s your excuse then?”

“What can I say? I was led astray.”

It was a blatant lie, but Javier didn’t care when it caused laughter lines to materialise in the corner of Horacio’s eyes.

“We both know you were drawn to it as much as you resented it.”

“Only where you were concerned. Anyway, you were just as bad even though you'd never admit it.”

“Maybe you were my exception too.”

A moment of silence fell as memory after memory collided, snapshots of how the push and pull between them had evolved with their relationship.

"Listen, I was thinking,” Javier started before taking a drag, “would it make things easier if you wore this? Just while we’re here, I mean.”

Horacio’s gaze drifted to Javier’s exposed skin, the taillights of the car in front catching on the crucifix at his chest. “No,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s yours now.”

By the time their cigarette was finished, the traffic edged forward, and the road ahead and Javier’s hand on Horacio’s leg soon replaced conversation.

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Two and a half hours and several bursts of heavy rain later, the muddied hire car pulled up by a complex of buildings nestled amongst a sea of lush green and vibrant flowers. The buildings sat atop steep slopes of vegetation that led to the coffee plantations below, the foggy skyline above etched with rugged ridges and the ominous outline of Nevado del Ruiz in the distance.

Any sounds from life on a working coffee farm were drowned out by birdsong and their feet crunching beneath them as Horacio and Javier walked up the gravel path towards the main finca. It was typical in its style with a rustic tiled roof, whitewashed bricks and wooden pillars around its perimeter painted in the same shade of terracotta red as the doors and window frames. At the back of the property was a large garden with a patio area, pool and a spectacular view for miles on a clear day.

As they lugged their suitcases onto the porch, Alejandra waited to greet them at the front door. Her dark hair was styled in a bob with waves bordering on curls, the kind Javier imagined Horacio could grow if he wasn’t so insistent on keeping his hair short. At least since leaving the CNP, he had been less strict about cutting it.

The family resemblance between the two siblings was evident in their facial features, particularly in the shape of their noses, charcoal eyes and Cupid’s bows. But Alejandra was a few inches shorter, and her frame was slimmer on account of not carrying the same muscle as Horacio.

“The wanderer finally returns,” Alejandra announced as she pulled Horacio in for a long hug, neither of them keen to be the first to let go. “At least you remembered how to use the phone before turning up on my doorstep.”

“Of course. It's good to see you. But I am sorry I left it so long. There’s, erm…a lot to catch up on.”

“I’ll say.” She peered curiously behind Horacio. “But first, let me say hello to this handsome new face.”

She all but pushed Horacio to one side, forgoing any formal introductions he might have had planned. All Horacio could do was stand and watch two parts of his life converge that, for a long time, he believed would never – and could never – meet.

Javier had hung back by several feet, his hands self-consciously stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he kept his eyes on the ground until he was spoken to.

“Hi there, I’m Alejandra. You must be Javier?”

“Oh, er, yeah, hi.” For reasons unbeknownst to Javier, he raised his hand in a stiff wave rather than the relaxed handshake he had planned and felt the heat instantly rise in his cheeks. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Beautiful place you’ve got up here.”

“Likewise. And thanks.” Much to Javier's relief, she took the lead and held out a hand for him to shake with a reassuring smile. “Although you’ve got Fabián to thank for that. He’s down there giving a tour to one of our new buyers.” Alejandra turned back to face Horacio. “Mamá’s shopping for school supplies and tonight’s dessert with Juan José, Sofía and Mateo. Ana María’s out with friends. But they should all be back in the next few hours.”

Horacio nodded but remained taciturn, keeping to himself his strong suspicions that Alejandra had made sure she was the only one to greet them upon arrival.

“Come on, you can show Javier around whilst I make us something to eat and drink.”

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It had been a long time since Horacio’s last visit, but he could just about remember the layout of the place. He took Javier through the downstairs rooms, moving from the hall to the living areas and then the kitchen, which appeared tidier now than in his dreams.

The décor was all tiled or wooden floors and earthy tones, contrasting against large airy windows that made the landscape outside seem like a part of the finca. Evidence of three generations and two cats was scattered everywhere in the form of toys, games, videos, tapes, books, various coffee products and photographs from over the years. In one corner stood a home altar containing a large crucifix, prayer cards, rosary beads, candles, and a statue of Virgen de Chiquinquirá. In the opposite corner was a shelf full of old vinyl with Lucho Bermúdez taking pride of place, naturally.

Upstairs housed six bedrooms and three bathrooms, on account of the brood of four children, three adults and a spare room. The spare room was their last stop, where they dumped their luggage, sharing an amused glance at the double bed with a smaller fold-out one laid out in the corner with a pile of fresh sheets.

“As your guest, I take it I get the bigger one?” Javier asked with a spark of mischief in his eye.

“Well, technically, I’m also a guest here. And I did do all the driving.”

“Maybe I’ll, er, flip you for it later.”

Horacio merely raised a brow at the suggestion in Javier’s tone before they headed back downstairs.

They sat under cover of the terrace in the wildly growing garden, just in case the rain returned, which was always a distinct possibility in Manizales. An impressive platter of fruits was laid out on the table alongside freshly made coffee.

“So, how was the wedding?” Alejandra asked as she poured from a pot into three cups, the dark, rich aroma diffusing into the same crisp air the beans were grown and harvested.

Horacio accepted a cup with a thanks and passed the other to Javier. “It was nice. Good to see everyone again.”

“How’s Trujillo doing? It’s been strange seeing his face all over the news.”

Rather than his, Horacio thought with a strange lurch to the gut he wasn’t expecting. “He’s doing well; he’s a Major now. He deserves some happiness after everything.”

“He’s not the only one.”

Alejandra gave Horacio a pointed look, one he wasn’t ready to entirely meet, so he reached for a slice of guayaba instead.

“And Javier...I take it this is your first visit to Manizales?” she continued, offering him the fruit tray.

“Thanks. And yeah, it is. Never got the time to explore much beyond Bogotá and Medellín.” That wasn't exactly true, but Javier didn’t think talk of Cartagena or Tolú would be welcome right now.

“Well, I hope it won’t be your last.”

Horacio could feel another look directed his way but pretended not to notice it and sipped on his coffee.

Once they had eaten their weight in fruit, Alejandra had some business calls to make, leaving Javier and Horacio to unpack and freshen up before reconvening to make a start on dinner.

Of course, it had to be sudado de pollo. Horacio and Alejandra worked as a team, issuing sporadic instructions to Javier when necessary. But he was happy listening to them catch up and reminisce.

“That smells amazing already,” Javier said as he finely chopped onions across a wooden board, gesturing to the dishful of chicken thighs that Alejandra had just finished marinating.

“Mamá’s secret blend,” she replied as she set the dish aside to move on to dicing several tomatoes.

“Oh yeah? What would I have to do to get the recipe for that?” Javier reflexively caught Horacio’s eye across the kitchen.

“If we told you, we’d have to kill you.” Horacio shot Javier a warning look that indicated he was only half joking before focusing intently on cutting up a large batch of yuca and potatoes.

“Yeah, not even Fabián knows.”

“Papá never knew either. But he was happy for us or Mamá to make it for him.”

“My Mamá was the same with her Abuela’s morisqueta. Although, not long before she passed, she left me and my Pops the recipe.”

Alejandra paused her knife to look up at Javier, the surprise on her face soon transforming into recognition and sympathy. “I bet it’s delicious. You should make it for us some time.”

Now it was Horacio’s turn to stop, his eyes travelling from Alejandra to Javier and back again as the implication of his sister’s words hung as heavy in the kitchen as the aromatic spices of her marinade.

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Once the chicken and vegetables were all prepped and placed in a pot on the stove, the front door opened and closed, a loud chatter of voices soon filling the hallway.

Before Javier knew what was happening, he was being introduced to the children, shaking hands with Fabián, then kissing Elena’s cheek.

“Welcome, Javier. It’s good to put a face to a name at last,” Elena said, thoroughly taking in his appearance, apparently satisfied with what she saw.

At last. Javier wasn’t sure whether those words put him at ease or made him more nervous, but he managed to push such thoughts behind a smile. “Nice to meet you, and likewise.”

Javier had briefly seen pictures of Horacio’s family in the past. But he, too, spent time studying Elena now that he was close enough to smell the floral notes of her perfume. Neat oval glasses and a mix of dark and light grey hair cut short and choppy framed her sharp features, the shape of her nose and Cupid’s Bow matching those of her children.

“No thanks to this one here, mind you.” Despite her chastisement, Elena embraced her son tightly, reluctant to let go. “I think he’s been hiding from us.”

“You know it wasn’t like that, Mamá.” Although, over his Mamá’s head, Horacio gave Javier a sheepish look that said otherwise. “It is good to see you. And I’m sorry I left it so long.”

Upon greeting his nieces and nephews, Horacio was struck by how much they had all grown up since his last visit. Ana María was the spitting image of her mother. Juan José was several inches taller than Horacio and resembled his father more than ever. And Mateo and Sofía had presumably become resentful of all the matching outfits in their younger years of being twins, going out of their way to dress as differently from each other as possible. Once they had said their obligatory hellos, they scattered around the house and no doubt wouldn’t re-appear until dinner was ready.

Right on cue, when Alejandra brought out steaming and brimming plates full of sudado de pollo, everyone rapidly took their places around the table.

Silence fell as they tucked in, the warmth and comfort of childhood cocooning Horacio from what he knew was inevitable. A welcomed interruption from his thoughts came with a soft brush against his leg, his instincts telling him it was one of the cats issuing their own greeting. But he should have known better.

As they ate and endured the usual family small talk, Javier's foot became Horacio's anchor, subtle and soothing rubs against his ankle unseen under the table. Steady, grounding, home. 

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Horacio carried the last few empty plates to the kitchen, where piles of dishes were already stacked high. He had left Javier with Juan José and Mateo, who were showing off the latest video games they had got for Christmas – and were comfortably beating Javier at them, too.

“I’ll wash; you dry. For old times’ sake,” Alejandra said without looking up from the sink where she was filling the basin with water and suds.

“Okay. On the condition we both tidy everything away afterwards.”

“Deal. You’ll just put it in the wrong place unsupervised anyway.”

Horacio swatted the tea towel he’d picked up in her direction, only for her to retaliate by flicking bubbles in his hair.

“We did okay with dinner, didn’t we? I haven’t made that in a long time,” Horacio said.

“You had a good teacher.”

“So did you.”

“Oh, I know. I think that’s why Papá always loved it. We were all in there somewhere.”

“Like our Christmas tamales.”

“Oh, yeah, he couldn’t get enough of those. Remember we always had to make an extra batch for him to take to work?”

“He said they were to share with his unit, but I’m not sure many made it that far.”

Now they were laughing as they worked in tandem, Alejandra changing the water as Horacio cleared the draining board, ready for the next load.

“Did you ever feel like you let him down?” Horacio asked after a long silence, both siblings seemingly waiting for the other to fill it.

“Of course. You know Papá didn’t approve of Fabián at first, right?”

“What?”

“You must’ve heard the arguments?”

“To be fair, there were plenty of arguments between you and Papá.”

“Yeah, and they were mostly about me daring to marry someone other than a cop.”

“That’s what it was about?”

“Mostly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Fabián; I just think he had suitors picked out for me. People he knew he could trust.”

“But they got along in the end, didn’t they?”

“Once Papá had got over himself, yeah.” Alejandra let out a nostalgic laugh, which Horacio quickly joined in with. “He could be tough when he wanted to be, but…he meant well,” she settled on. “Once he saw how happy I was and how Fabián had taken after his father with the farm, he came around. It was never personal with Papá. It’s just the way he was.”

“So, you don’t think he’d be disappointed in me…” Horacio paused to swallow, his throat drier than a Texan summer. “For quitting?” he got out eventually.

Alejandra gave Horacio a look he’d seen countless times over the years. One only a big sister could give her little brother when she had to feign ignorance of something she had already discovered for herself. The perks of being the eldest.

“How did you know?”

“Horacio, are you really asking that of someone who has been surrounded by cops all her life?”

Horacio rolled his eyes but let Alejandra have that one unchallenged.

“I thought you might have been discharged on medical grounds, to be honest. I hoped you’d seen sense. Or maybe met someone.”

“I wasn’t discharged, but I negotiated a payout after my injury.”

Alejandra released a self-satisfied hum, a whisp of a smile threatening to break free from the corners of her mouth. “Two out of three’s not bad, I suppose.”

Horacio gulped hard enough for Alejandra to hear; he had no doubt about that. But no words followed, not even when he caught her eye.

“You love him, don’t you?” It wasn’t an accusation or an interrogation. In fact, it was barely even a question.

“Yes.” It caught Horacio off guard how fast he answered. How direct and concise he’d been.

“And he loves you.” There was no pretence of a question mark now, but rather a clarification of a well-established fact. A rite of passage both parties needed to hear.

“He does.”

“Enough to walk away from it all, too.”

Horacio nodded, scared the lump in his throat would give way to something else as his glassy gaze met Alejandra’s.

“His father – Chucho – owns a ranch in Laredo, Texas. That’s where I went after…” he trailed off, not wishing to dwell on the finer details of the ambush. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I hated lying after everything we’ve been through. But I figured the less you and Mamá knew, the safer it was.”

“I had a feeling you’d left Colombia. But Texas?” Alejandra blew out a low whistle. “That’s the part we’ll need to prepare Mamá for.”

“They’re Mexican-American. And the ranch is right on the border by the river.”

“I’d lead with that part if I were you. Not sure you can avoid a lecture about fraternising with Spanish colonisers, though. Twice.”

“I got that the first time I moved over there. But she went quiet when I reminded her Madrid was good enough for Simón Bolívar.”

Alejandra’s shoulders shook in unison with Horacio’s until a comfortable silence fell between them.

“So, you were there a whole year?”

“Just over. I couldn’t do much to help for the first few months – whilst this healed.” Horacio flexed his right arm to prove to Alejandra that everything was back in working order. “But it was good to have a routine eventually.”

“Wait a minute…you worked on the ranch?”

“No need to sound so surprised when you live here. I was actually pretty good at it. And I liked it.” Although Horacio understood and returned his sister’s bemusement because even he had shocked himself.

“No, I’m not. It’s just…oh, Horacio...” Alejandra broke off to bring her hand to his cheek, her brow creased, but her eyes caught between being on the brink of a smile and tears. “Look at you.”

Horacio made a show of wiping away the suds from his cheekbone, hoping he wouldn’t still have an audience afterwards. But no such luck. “It’s not what I expected to happen – any of it. But it just....felt right. I know that probably doesn’t make sense.”

“Actually, it makes perfect sense.”

“Does it?”

“Well, for starters, I can see the appeal. Obviously. Can’t blame you for going for a younger man, either. And taller.”

Horacio rolled his eyes and hoped his face didn’t look as hot as it felt. “Not by that much. On either count.”

“Hey, no judgment from me. But seriously, of course, it makes sense. I know we all used to joke about you being married to your job, but…after Juliana, I did wonder if there was more to it than that.”

“I think burying myself in work killed two birds with one stone.”

“It was killing you.”

“I know.”

“And Papá would have told you the same.”

A hollow laugh escaped Horacio’s throat, Martínez’s words from the wedding still ringing intrusively in his ears. “I’d have been kicked out of the force. He’d have made sure of that. And I wouldn’t have blamed him.”

“Right, because you were the first officer on Colombian soil to commit violence or be used as a political weapon.”

“He was against it, Alejandra. La Violencia was enough for anyone to see in a lifetime.”

But that was just another in a long line of civil wars. Even if his father's life hadn’t been cut short, he would have seen yet another bloody outbreak in which the state did more to perpetuate the death toll than bring peace to the country. And Horacio had plenty of blood on his hands. At least his Papá was spared witnessing that.

“And you don’t think he was ever put in a compromising position back then? You don’t think La Violencia was why he didn’t want the same for you? You won’t remember much, and Mamá and Papá never spoke about it around us, but I got pretty good at listening through doors.”

“He never did talk about it. Even when I was older.”

Not that he really needed to, Horacio conceded. Even though they were kept relatively safe and away from the violence in Medellín compared to other regions of Antioquia – particularly the rural parts – he had heard enough over the years to fill in the blanks.

He remembered his Mamá’s stories of helping the displaced, those who sought refuge in the city. Thousands who had been forced to flee the violence and start over again, often in makeshift housing on the outskirts, the irony never lost on Horacio that one of those neighbourhoods became Comuna 13. But for all his Mamá’s tales and the work she continued to do until she left for Manizales, his Papá never spoke about those years.

“He was protecting you. Like Mamá was with us after he died. Sometimes silence is easier.”

“I know. I get it. Before he died, the cocaine trade hadn’t got going in Colombia yet. It was mostly marijuana. But with FARC around and the gringos spreading their anti-communist propaganda, he knew it was a question of when, not if, another war was coming. I think he hoped things would be different this time.”

“You did what you had to do, Horacio. Just like he did. Just like every generation of our family did to survive. What’s done is done.”

“I’m not sure you’d say that if you knew everything.”

“You think I never heard any of the rumours out here? Or picked up a newspaper once in a while?”

“You never said anything.”

Alejandra shot Horacio a cutting glare, the kind he was an expert at delivering, but only a select few could get away with throwing back at him. “I knew you wouldn’t talk about it even if I asked.”

Horacio scoffed. Touché. “Not all of it was true.”

It was Alejandra’s turn to laugh. “Well, I kinda figured you weren’t dead after you called.”

“I don’t just mean the ambush.”

“I know,” she said briskly.

But Horacio couldn’t ignore the relief in her body language. Even though he understood it, a wave of shame hit him for even planting a seed of doubt in her – his older sister, the mother of his nieces and nephews – mind in the first place.

“But that’s all in the past now,” he concluded, shutting down his own train of destructive thought. “And you’re right; Papá’s not here. But Javier is.”

“So your future’s in Laredo, then.”

“Are you mad?”

“Am I mad that my little brother is finally getting his shit together and is head over heels in love? Oh, yeah, I’m livid.”

An inferno had spread across Horacio’s cheeks, and he struggled to think of a response. But luckily for him, Alejandra wasn’t done yet.

“It’s…safe, though, right? For you both to live together?”

“As safe as anywhere else. Every country has its problems. I’m sure there’ll always be people with something to say. But we’ve been careful.”

“Just promise me you’ll keep being careful.”

“We will, I promise.”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll convince Mamá to visit in the summer, though.”

“That’s fair. But you do think she’ll want to visit?”

“She might be strong, but we know what she lost – what we all lost. So, if there’s a chance for you to share your life with someone as she did with Papá, to be safe – to be happy after everything – yeah, I think she'll want to visit.”

“Do you think Papá would if he could?” Horacio knew it was a loaded grenade of a question and unfair to ask. But he couldn’t help himself.

Alejandra hesitated, seemingly aware she was between a rock and a hard place. “Maybe in his old age. Or if he knew Javier saved your life.”

“How did –?”

She expelled a comedically dramatic sigh. “Keep up, manito. When you called, you told me the DEA came after you that night. I don’t need to hold a badge to guess who that was.”

Horacio was banged to rights once more as he tried to recall the exact information he had relayed to Alejandra in the hours after the ambush; evidently, it was more than he thought.

“He – and his partner, Steve – went against orders and got suspended for helping me and my men.”

“So, they took a leaf out of your book then?”

“Something like that.”

Before Horacio could overthink it, he took a deep breath and told Alejandra everything. From the blackmail to his and Javier’s resignations to their year in Madrid, it all came tumbling out whilst she kept washing and he kept drying. Just like old times. Just like their Papá was in the next room along with their Mamá. And in so many ways, he always would be, not as a ghost of their past, but forever a part of their present and future.

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

Arriving during the week had its advantages, as it wasn’t necessary for Horacio to make excuses to get an early night. Work and school beckoned in the morning for most of the household, so the evening had ended in a low-key fashion.

That was more than fine by Horacio after a long drive and an overdue heart-to-heart. He lay on his side, his back nestled into Javier’s chest in the centre of the spare room’s double bed. They made up the fold-out bed for pretences, but it was purely extra space to store their luggage.

A bedside lamp and hints of moonlight peaking around the edges of the curtains cast the room in soft shadows, the low murmur of a telenovela in one of the nearby bedrooms the only sound to be heard at this hour.

“How old were you there?” Javier asked, his voice muffled against Horacio’s shoulder where he’d temporarily paused his trail of kisses after picking out one of several framed photos on the wall.

“The one from Alejandra’s wedding? I’d have been 24.”

“Cute curls.” Javier’s nose nuzzled against the back of Horacio’s head, which was sadly lacking the same unruliness as in the photo.

“Fuck you.”

Javier sniggered. “Hey, I was being serious! They suit you. Plus…more to grab hold of.” He slid a hand into Horacio’s hair as his mouth resumed its work along bare skin.

Horacio’s back arched with a sigh as he leaned into Javier’s touch. “You know we can’t get carried away. Not here.”

“I know.” Of course, Javier understood. It was one thing for him to have sneaked in and out of the guesthouse back in Laredo; it was quite another to be under the same roof as Horacio’s whole family. But that didn’t stop the almost petulant tone in Javier’s voice. He was still human, after all.

“I promise we’ll make up for it once we leave.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Despite their flirtation, exhaustion was thick in their throats and pressed heavily on their limbs, pushing them closer towards sleep as the butterflies in their stomachs finally settled.

“The wedding wasn’t that long after Papá died. Alejandra asked me to give her away instead. At first, I didn’t think I deserved to take Papá’s place. But I think she needed me there with her, so, I said yes.”

“Of course you did, and I bet she never forgot that.”

“No, and I’ll never forget tonight."

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

It was still dark in the spare room when Javier stirred and untangled himself from Horacio as slowly as possible. He had woken up thirsty and threw on a precautionary pair of jeans before tiptoeing down the wooden staircase towards the kitchen.

The clock on the oven read 01:30am, so he wasn't expecting to find the spotlights above it switched on. He searched through the cupboards until he found a tumbler and filled it with water from the tap, taking large gulps until the glass was drained.

“So, you’re a night owl too, then?”

“Shit!” Javier hissed, spinning around with a sharp intake of breath, almost dropping the glass on the tiled floor.

“Sorry,” Alejandra whispered. “I was just reading before heading off to bed.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I just needed some water. Didn’t think anyone else would be up.” Javier was suddenly very aware of the fact he was standing half naked in the middle of the kitchen, Horacio’s necklace like a flashing beacon at his chest. “Obviously,” he added with an awkward huff, looking down at his state of semi-undress.

“Right,” Alejandra replied with a stifled laugh. “How about you avoid catching a chill whilst I find something a bit more…authentic than tap water?”

Once Javier came back downstairs with his chest now covered, Alejandra was sat at the kitchen table with two shot glasses and a bottle of aguardiente.

“Not sure my stomach can handle any more of that after the wedding.”

“Lightweight. And just think of it as an initiation.”

Javier sighed in defeat, accepting the challenge as he took a seat opposite Alejandra.

She unscrewed the bottle and tipped measures into each glass. “Wanna make this more interesting?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Three shots, three questions each. But you can only ask a question after you’ve emptied your glass.”

Javier laughed for a second, unsure what he imagined Alejandra to be like, yet somehow, she surprised him anyway. “Okay. Already sounds better than every other icebreaker inflicted on me. Who goes first?”

“Guest’s choice.”

He stared down at his glass as though it was the barrel of a gun, remembering why he had eventually insisted whiskey was his and Horacio’s go-to drink. When he first arrived in Colombia, Horacio would offer him a shot, pouring liberally from the stash of aguardiente in his office drawer, and Javier accepted on multiple occasions. But it was over and done with like a spoonful of caustic medicine. At least whiskey could be drunk slower and delayed saying goodnight.

That wasn't the order of things now, though. So, Javier grabbed the bull by the horns and threw back his glass, wincing at the aniseed burn as it slid down his throat.

“New rule: you’ve got 30 seconds to come up with a question. Otherwise, you take another shot.”

“Alright, alright, I’m thinking.”

Alejandra’s gaze fell on the oven clock, ramping up the pressure. “10 seconds left…”

“Okay. I’ve got one. What was it like growing up with a younger brother?”

“Annoying, obviously. Especially after he got the highest grade in his English class. I don’t know where he picked them up, but he knew all the swear words. Of course. He drove me crazy testing them out.”

“He did that to my old partner, Steve – his Spanish isn’t great, and Horacio sure liked to remind him whenever he got the chance.”

“Sounds about right. No wonder he liked you – best of both worlds.”

“Maybe.” Javier knew what Alejandra meant, but it didn’t stop heat from spreading through his cheeks regardless.

“He was generally pretty quiet at school,” Alejandra continued, "but not afraid to take the lead…or break a few rules.”

“Again, I’m not surprised.”

“Nope.” They both laughed at that. “He always liked to be moving, though. Doing something with his hands. Or playing sports – he was a good runner. We used to race each other around Jardín Botánico, and he would always beat me. I think he already knew he was in training for the Academy. So, obviously, he was accepted. No doubt some thought he got a free pass, but he was determined to prove himself. Then he had to grow up.”

The joviality faded abruptly from Alejandra’s face, transforming into a wistful smile.

“We both did. But at least I’d had more time with Papá. Good job I did have those few years to myself ‘cos Horacio followed him around like a shadow. Until he couldn’t. Then he thought he had to be the man of the house. Even when there were two much more qualified women for the job.”

“He thought it was his duty."

“Yeah. He did.” There was something akin to awe in how Alejandra looked at Javier, as though she was simultaneously taken aback and impressed that someone summed up and understood her brother so accurately and succinctly.

“Isn’t it your turn, now?” Javier asked after a moment of silence.

Without further hesitation, Alejandra downed her shot. “Why Colombia?”

“Why not Colombia?” He tried a feeble laugh but knew that wouldn't cut it. “I studied Gabriel García Márquez in high school. Although, can’t say I really got him at the time. Took me another try when I was older.”

Now he thought about it, Javier wasn’t convinced he exactly got him the second time around either, considering García Márquez’s views on extradition aligned fiercely with Horacio’s. But that was the luxury of hindsight.

“By then, my Mamá had long since passed, my fiancée had just become my ex, and I had no fucking clue what I was doing with my life. Guess I needed to get lost in someone else’s problems for a while.”

“Tell me about it.” Alejandra held a book up in the air that had been abandoned on the table since Javier joined her.

“Smart move. My teacher loved telling us how García Márquez moved to Mexico and wrote One Hundred Years of Solitude over there. And with how things went down in Laredo, I could see the appeal of starting over in another country. Mexico was…too close to home. The drug war was getting out of hand. More and more agents were being transferred. And what’s the line?” Javier broke off, eyes cast towards the ceiling as he licked his lips in concentration. “‘We came’, they said, ‘because everyone is coming’.”

Alejandra let a pause of bewilderment pass between them as she studied Javier with intrigue. “You’re not at all like the other gringos he’s worked with in the past.”

“Did he bring any of them home to his family?”

“No. You’re the first. As I’m sure you're aware.”

“Maybe.”

“Drink up.”

Javier did as he was told, repressing a cough as the potent liquid worked its magic. “Why did you choose farm life over being a cop?”

Alejandra laughed a little too loudly, considering the time. “There are other career choices, you know.”

Javier gasped. “There are?”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it? But that’s not quite how it went for me. The farm came with Fabián. They’re sort of a package deal. I’m sure you can understand that.” She threw Javier a knowing smile. “But I ruled out being a cop years before I moved here or met Fabián. I knew from Papá that women in the force were few and far between back then. They’re still pretty scarce now. I wasn’t up for putting myself in the firing line being a General’s daughter. They never would have respected me or believed I got there on my own merit. I didn’t want to spend my life trying to gain anyone's approval.”

“Makes sense. It’s not easy in the force if you’re…different from the rest."

“Exactly. I’m not sure it’s what Papá even wanted for me anyway. Because he knew what it’d be like. Then there was Mamá with her social work. She was in her element. Always fighting someone’s corner, especially during the suffrage movement. I think I was the odd one out in the family, ‘cos everyone else seemed to have…a calling except for me. So, I studied, got a business degree, became a buyer for various companies and ended up in the coffee industry. And the rest is history.”

“Good for you. And I guess that explains Horacio’s, er, distaste for a badly made cup of coffee.”

“Yep. He’s got no excuse. And neither do you anymore.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. Your turn.” Javier took the bottle this time and filled Alejandra’s glass.

She downed it in one go. “¿Por qué no un llanero ahora que has descartado ser policía?” (Why not a llanero now you’ve ruled out being a police officer?)

“¿Por qué no un vaquero?” (Why not a vaquero?) Javier corrected with a glint in his eye that Alejandra returned with an eye roll. “Like you said…there are other jobs. That one was just never for me. I need more variety day-to-day. Like I’m making a bigger difference somehow. But preferably without the pretty fucking significant risk of death or blackmail.”

“A fair demand.”

“Right? It’s not like I’m asking for a raise.”

“When I moved here, I didn’t know where life was taking me, especially when the kids came along. I couldn’t keep my old job because of all the travelling…and being a mother was the priority until they started school. It took me a while to find my place on the buying and selling side of the business. So, all I’m saying is, things might get clearer once you’re settled back in Laredo.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Javier raised his glass and nodded his thanks to Alejandra, touched by her unprompted advice.

His third and final question had arrived, and the pressure to make it a good one pressed uncomfortably on his increasingly fuzzy head. “If your father was here now, what would you say to him?”

For a brief second, Javier feared he had overstepped some forbidden and invisible line and been overfamiliar with someone he only really knew by proxy at this stage.

But whilst Alejandra’s smile was permanently stained with traces of grief, warmth flickered then grew in her charcoal eyes. “I’d tell him we’re fine. That we miss him and wish he’d come back for good but that he needn’t worry. Because even though Mamá didn’t always get things right, she steered us through it as best she could. And we didn’t turn our backs on the world. That we found love in the dark.”

Alejandra sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Sorry. I think it’s the alcohol.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” Javier paused to clear his throat, blinking his vision back into focus. “It was beautifully said.” His hand reached for hers across the table, hoping again that he hadn’t gone too far.

But she let his hand rest there until she shook her head like a wet dog and poured her final shot. “Same question to you about your mother, obviously,” she said before downing the aguardiente in one.

Javier scoffed. “Well, I guess I deserved that.” He took his time, collecting his thoughts as though he was preparing an important speech. As though he’d been trying to find the right words for most of his life – and how rarely he’d succeeded.

“I’d tell her I miss her morisqueta. I’d tell her Pops visits her every week. But then I think she already knows that. Same way I think she made sure he never re-married.”

Javier couldn’t help but laugh, seeing with perfect clarity where his own loyal streak came from when his Pops was still as devoted to Mariana as the day they married. Siempre tuyo was no exaggeration.

“I’d make sure she knew he wasn’t alone, though. That he was known as Don Chucho to most in Laredo. That she’d be proud of him for growing the community she helped start. I’d brag about all the tamales we’ve made and quote her favourite poems. I’d introduce her to Horacio.”

He envisaged showing her Horacio’s poetry book, knowing that all it would take was for her to read Javier’s message in the opening pages to understand everything about who they were to each other. He’d even dreamed of it, waking with a ridiculous hope that she had somehow intercepted it.

“She sounds as incredible as your father. I hope one day I can thank him for taking my little brother under his wing when he needed it the most.”

“I’m sure that could be arranged.”

“I can’t – and don’t want to – imagine where he would have ended up without either of you, to be honest. He told me about the ambush…and everything else. And even though it doesn’t feel nearly enough, I just want to say...thank you.”

At first, Javier could only nod and swallow the lump bobbing at the base of his throat. “He did the same for me. It wasn’t easy walking away from my job, don’t get me wrong, but it was different for him. He felt like he’d betrayed Colombia and his Papá. Yet he did it anyway.”

“When it’s the right person, the sacrifices are worth it. And I can’t think of anyone more worthy of wearing that.” Alejandra’s sightline had fallen to Javier’s neck. His chest may have now been covered, but the silver chain still poked out from beneath the seam of his shirt.

She poured them a bonus shot each and raised her glass. “Welcome to the family.”

[helleboretks]

Cocky, Until He’s Not

This is a Lee!Dazai and Ler!Chuuya bsd tickle fic. If this isn’t your forte, no need to read!

Summary: Another one of Chuuya getting revenge on Dazai, but what if it happened during their Sokouku Days?

FunFact: This was my first ever tickle fic, so lols to all of this-

People would be surprised how long Chuuya waited for this specific moment.

Three weeks of nothing but dealing with his partner’s agitating behavior, mentally noting every insult, every jest, every tease and taunt, filing it away for this scenario. He needed his revenge for the countless times Dazai’s fucked with him on such a constant.

He hadn’t known how until he came to Dazai’s best friend for advice.

“He’s actually freakishly ticklish, if that gives you something to go off of.”

Bless Sakunosuke’s heart, Chuuya swore to God.

It was the best thing he could have ever found out, no matter how embarrassing it sounds. This was information he was sure as hell Dazai would rather take to the grave than to give him even a hint about, but now that Chuuya knew this? Oh boy, he was going to abuse this for the rest of his life.

Who would have ever thought? Dazai Osamu, king of annoying, Demon Prodigy and most stoically ridiculous asshole ever, ticklish? It was glorious, a weakness Chuuya could utilize at any moment. His heaven, even.

And he’s going to milk it for all it’s worth the first time around. Chuuya waited, counting up the piles of teases and taunts Dazai spewed at him so recklessly, counting each one, each reason-good reason-, to absolutely demolish this son of a bitch. And now that he had a mountain, it was time to find the right opportunity to strike.

It was so much easier than he thought it’d be, and he loved it.

Dazai was just going at his teases again, following Chuuya, poking and prodding at his nerves like second nature (and it probably was by now), sticking his tongue at him, calling him names in which Chuuya would fire back. It was their usual banter, as always. At least, until Dazai made a comment.

“You’re soooo tiny,” Dazai laughed, pointing to his bandaged neck, “You wouldn’t even reach my neck in five years time!” Chuuya had growled at him before the bulb went off, to which he smirked, and leaned back, pulling his hands from his pockets. And with all the confidence he could muster in that moment, he blurted,

“You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s so ticklish.”

Dazai blanked for all of three seconds, before letting out an actual squeal and stepping back rapidly, clearly caught off guard by the declaration. “A-And where in the world did you get that idea from?!” he tried to save himself, he really did, but the all too obvious blush on his face gave it away. The fact that he could get Dazai to react so genuinely gave Chuuya so much satisfaction, you’d think he’d leave it at that.

Well, of course he fucking wouldn’t. Dazai was just tempting him now.

“Oooh yes, I know your secret, Mackerel.” Chuuya smugly replied, lifting up his hands as his grin sharpened. Dazai visibly paled. Hilarious.

“Fucking. Run.” Dazai didn’t need to be told twice, spinning on his heel and making a mad dash like Chuuya’s never seen before. But, as much as the other ran, Chuuya didn’t even feel a hint of worry. Why? Well, did you really think Dazai was the most physically capable out of both of them?

He let Dazai get some distance just to build up tension, knowing how his partner had such a love/hate relationship with anticipation. He took off after him soon though, forgoing his ability just to make this chase that little bit more interesting.

“Dazai~!” Chuuya shouted tauntingly, getting a loud ‘GO AWAY, CHIBI!’ in response, yet it only made the ginger scoff. The duo were bolting down the halls before long, Dazai crashing into walls and bursting through doors, not seeming to give a rat’s ass about the employees he was disturbing with all the ruckus.

And Chuuya was hot on his tail, bouncing off the walls (Figuratively and literally) in vengeful glee as he zipped past those same employees, who looked beyond confused. He’s pretty sure they, or more like Dazai, knocked over more shipping boxes than necessary, and they ended up coming to one of those big storage sectors, conveyor belts transporting big cargo down to the PM’s ship docs.

Dazai was hurtling over boxes, climbing them like a rabid monkey as Chuuya simply used his gravitation to bound up them all in one go, slamming onto the box above Dazai and thoroughly startling the maniac, who let out a sharp yelp at his sudden appearance.

“NO!! Get away, get away! This is why I hate stupid dogs!” Dazai cried, immediately fleeing as he jumped down the boxes, and Chuuya laughed rather maniacally, seeing all the panic and irritation in Dazai for once instead of himself.

“You’re avoiding the inevitable, you bastard!” Chuuya hollered, jumping down and following Dazai, who fled for the exit like there would be no tomorrow if he didn’t.

He flung the door open, only to shriek and stumble back before he could get slammed into by another employee carrying boxes and metal beams, and Chuuya snorted at his attempt to stay up right. His knees were shaking like jelly, and Chuuya could only suspect it was from the situation he threw himself into.

Somehow he was able to squeeze past, and Chuuya waited another second or two once that employee was gone before he gave chase again, skidding around the corner he saw Dazai dash ‘round.

“ODASAKUUUU!!!” Oh, just Chuuya’s luck! Seems like Dazai found his friend (and semi-traitor) in the common room, throwing himself behind the older one and pointing at Chuuya accusatively.

“Get him to leave me alone!!! Oh my God he’s trying to kill meeee!!” Dazai screamed as Chuuya skidded to a halt right in front of Sakunosuke, who seemed taken aback by what he suddenly found himself in the middle of.

“C’mon! You can take it! You’re the Demon Prodigy, what’s a little bit of wiggling fingers gonna do?” Chuuya grinned, the duo falling into a stumbling dance of side-stepping around Sakunosuke, who let out a small huff of amusement from their shenanigans.

“Dazai?” Said boy stiffened with a squeak, yet found it hard not to break eye contact with Chuuya when it was his friend calling him. “He’s a bad dog!” Dazai whined pitifully, shuffling some more and shrieking when Chuuya almost nicked his side. So close!

However, that near nick seemed to kick off the giggles in that fiend, who desperately covered his quivering smile and shivered all the same. (Chuuya refuses to admit how his heart beat faster at the sight).

“Oda! Ohoda, Oda, Oda, hehelp me! Help me, Jesus Chrihist!!” Dazai begged, tugging at Sakunosuke’s sleeve ridiculously. Chuuya and Sakunosuke shared a glance, and the older one smiled.

“Alright.”

Dazai screeched like a banshee when Oda grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him back-first into Chuuya’s awaiting arms, and he immediately started writhing, regret has never been clearer in his eyes.

“Odasaku you traitor!! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck y-AAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!” Chuuya actually laughed at the desperate scream that left Dazai’s open mouth when he started pinching his sides, the other squirming as he dissolved into a fit of uncontrollable giggling.

“Hey, it was bound to happen eventually.” Sakunosuke shrugged, as casual as ever even as his friend was being tortured right in front of him. “Aaaaand thank you for the gift, Sakunosuke-san!” Chuuya grinned, adjusting his grip and lifting the squealing mess of a Mafioso up, who leaned back as far as he could go as Chuuya’s fingers danced across his sides, legs kicking like crazy as he laughed.

“Anytime.” Spoke the low rank, who Dazai mustered up the will to flip the bird at. Chuuya kissed his teeth, fingers skittering across his belly experimentally, satisfied with the squeal he ripped from the other.

“I hahahahate yohohohou! FACK!!” Dazai screamed once Sakunosuke had taken his leave, Chuuya stumbling back from the sheer intensity of this boy’s flailing. “Jesus Christ, ya jackass! Would you stop squirming so much?” Chuuya huffed, walking backwards towards the couch of the common room.

“Thehehehen stooop!” Dazai whined between giggles, shaking his head rapidly before letting out a strangled gasp when he was unceremoniously dumped onto the couch. Chuuya didn’t waste a second, hopping onto Dazai’s thighs as the other threw his hands out, probably to attempt to stop Chuuya.

However, he did not account for Chuuya going for his underarms.

He clamped down immediately, convulsing where he was as his laughter grew more frantic, a string of cusses even Chuuya would be proud of spilling from giggling lips. He tried to stomp against the other arm of the couch, hoping to distract himself from the ticklish sensations, but he could barely move his legs with Chuuya sitting on them.

“Gehehehehet off mehe, you fahahat fuck!” Chuuya let out a choked gasp, offended that the other even had the gall to say that to him. “How the hell am I fat!? That just adds to the list of bullshit you put me through. More tickles for you.”

Dazai tried to let out a frustrated groan, but could barely get it out before his laughter got even louder when Chuuya flicked teasing fingers down to his hip, immediately peaking Chuuya’s interest.

“You are just one big damn tickle spot, aren’t ya?” Dazai frantically shook his head, yet that had to be the biggest lie he’s ever seen from the other. “Oh really now? Well it seems to me that you are, Mr.Squeak-sir-lot.” Dazai practically wheezed at the nickname, and Chuuya made sure to engrave that reaction into his memory.

“Now that I think about it, there’s one itty bitty spot I wanna try.” Chuuya casually mentioned, fingers walking up and down from the ribs to the hips as Dazai grabbed his wrist.

But he didn’t pull at it though.

So, he was enjoying this, wasn’t he? (How adorable…)

“Oh, well now you’ve just given yourself away, ya dumbass!” Chuuya grinned, hand darting up to attack Dazai’s neck.

And oh God, the scream that left him was more deafening than a triggered grenade.

He bucked and squirmed like a bull, squealing and laughing from his very gut. The words he wanted to say got jumbled and lost in giggles and laughter as Chuuya wiggled his fingers into the side of his neck, drilling and poking like rapid-fire all the while.

The first few tears of joy slipped down from his eyes, disappearing into his hairline as he snorted. That laugh was just so squeaky and dorky, down right hilarious, Chuuya couldn’t help but laugh along.

But at some point he did end up giving the other a bit of mercy, dying down to feather-light touches along his shoulders to the very base of his neck, eliciting squeaky little giggles from the mafioso. “I hahahate you, chihihibi. I swehehear.” Dazai gasped after a while as Chuuya rolled his eyes.

“Feeling’s mutual, partner.” Chuuya bit back playfully, only to blink a bit when he noticed the bandages over Dazai’s right eye begin to slip and slide. The other didn’t seem to care as much as Chuuya thought, simply scrunching up his shoulders and turning his head more to escape the tingly sensations.

“What? Never been tickled senseless before?” Chuuya opted to ignore it as well, Dazai letting out a scoff through feverish giggling, as if that would suddenly bring back his reputation to Chuuya as that stoic, constantly bothersome, moody Mafia man. Or boy. Whatever.

“Yohohou’re not even t-tryihihing that hahard.” Dazai snickered, and Chuuya used that opportunity to give a face of fake (and definitely a little real) offense. “Excuse me, you bitch? You were laughing so hard you couldn’t even speak a few times, what do you mean I ‘wasn’t even trying’???” Dazai chuckled, sticking his tongue out as Chuuya finally ceased his ministrations. And Dazai actually thought the other had had enough with him, but oh boy was he wrong.

Why? Well…

How was he supposed to react when Chuuya shoved his hands under his shirt and onto bandaged skin!?!? The bandages didn’t do a thing to stop it, either!

He let out a cry, retracting his tongue as he flung his head back, cackling crazily. “OW OW OHOW, MY TOHOHOHONGUE!! CHIBI I FUHUHUCKING BIT MY TOHOHOHOHONGUE, NAHAHAHAHA!!!” Chuuya snorted and laughed at his partner’s dilemma, who didn’t know whether to wince in pain or continue laughing like a hyena. Apparently, his body decided both were an option. This is probably the most Dazai’s ever cursed in months, he isn’t even going to lie.

“I CAHAHAHAN’T, CHUUYA I CAN’T-I CAN’T, FUHUHUHUHUCK!!” Chuuya raised a brow mockingly, asking, “Can’t what, Mr. Squeaks? Ya gotta speak up, I can’t hear you through all the white noise!”

“STAHAHAHAHAP, I CAN’T STAHAHAP, CHUUYAAAAA!!!” Dazai screamed, and the shorter boy’s face lit up at the opportunity the other handed to him on a golden platter.

“You can’t stop? Holy shit, you can’t stop the feeling! You Can’t stop the feeling~!” Dazai was snorting and laughing as Chuuya sang that lyrical parody to him over and over again, skittering all along his ribs and scritch-scratching at every space in between that he could find that made Dazai positively lose his crap.

Dazai was wheezing at this point, tears falling down from so much stimulation, yet he couldn’t tell if he wanted more or not. He was slapping at Chuuya’s bicep, cackling mindlessly as he squirmed and struggled weakly, feeling drained as the seconds ticked on.

At this rate, Chuuya could see the other was close to going crazy.

The moment Chuuya knew the other had reached his limit was when he started hiccuping.

Hiccups within quick succession of one another littered his laugh when Chuuya touched onto his hips again, skin on skin contact making it so much worse for the taller as he flung his head around wildly. It was as if he lost complete rationality, dizzy from the sensations.

“M-ME-MERCIHIH-HIC-IHI, P-PLE-HIC-EASE CHU-HIC-CHUUYAH-HAHAHA!!!” Chuuya decided then that the other finally had enough, slowing to a stop and allowing Dazai to sink into the couch, panting heavily as his laughter was gradually reduced to feverishly desperate giggles and gasps for air. Chuuya let out a victorious laugh, taking in the poor mafioso’s expression.

He wasn’t really paying much attention to Dazai’s face then, so it was only when he got a good look at him that Chuuya finally took notice of his loose bandages from before, and by that he meant he had no idea where the hell they went. But now he’s got a giggling, gasping Dazai shivering under him, two eyes of vibrantly dark brown gazing up with the brightest blush he’d ever seen.

It was precious. Dangerously precious.

And the wobbly little smile on the taller's face was doing things to his heart, unfortunately.

“Y-you’re staring~...” Dazai whispered, but he also seemed to try and avert his gaze, if only a little, subtle as always. Chuuya kissed his teeth and rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to throw out one of his normal insults when-

“HIC-”

The two stared at each other for what might have been hours, but was only a few seconds. Quickly, Dazai shot up (and almost headbutt Chuuya in the process, but avoided it) and covered his mouth as another hiccup erupted from him. Then another, and another, and another-holy shit.

“You did not just get the hiccups.” Chuuya scoffed, holding back his own chuckles as Dazai tried to retort, only ending up with another, much squeakier hiccup. His blush reappeared tenfold, body jerking from each hiccup as Chuuya’s restrained snickers grew at the other’s dilemma.

“S-Stop laughing Chi-hic-Chibikko!” Dazai growled, batting at the ginger’s head as he continued to hiccup, and Chuuya continued to laugh at the other’s misery. This was probably the most embarrassment he’d ever seen on Dazai’s face, so he made sure to commit it to memory. He couldn’t not do that, now could he? It was so utterly adorable.

…He’ll just pretend he didn’t think that.

“C’mon, seriously?” Chuuya spoke between giggles, raising his hands to squish Dazai’s cheeks mockingly, the other weakly moving away to no avail. “Look at you! You’re hiccuping like a maniac, mackerel.” Chuuya smirked, letting his fingers fiddle just underneath Dazai’s chin and near his neck again, renewing some of those little giggles in him.

“Nohohohooo, no-hic-mohohore.” Dazai whined, but for once, he didn’t pull away, in fact, he did the opposite. He leaned into Chuuya’s touch when the other stopped the light teases, simply allowing Chuuya to hold his face.

The two stared at each other, and Chuuya wasn’t sure what to call this kind of atmosphere, (That was a lie, he knew it all too well, refusing to accept it). Dazai’s squishy cheeks in the palm of his hands, those dark brown eyes that held a different gleam to them than usual, and neither could truly look away. The moment was quiet save for Dazai’s hiccups, the moment was strange in every sense of the word, the moment was…

“This is oddly giving me sexual aftercare vibes right now-”

Ruined. Thanks to Dazai and his stupid mackerel mouth.

Chuuya simply decided to tickle him breathless for that one.

Not that he wouldn’t have done it again at some point.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I’m relatively new to the fandom and have really enjoyed a lot of your posts… I have a question that I couldn’t quickly find an answer to in searching through your tags…

What’s the deal with streaming? Like, I listen to BTS. I enjoy them a lot, I listen to a pretty even mix of all their albums though I probably like MOTS:7 era the best). Some days I listen to them like all day lol (if I’m cleaning the house or something) and I listen to them a lot in the car or while working. I’ve enjoyed some solo releases more than others so I naturally streamed those more. but like the more I start following accounts on here and on army twt the more confused I get about the intense pressure to stream constantly? I’ve heard that people play certain songs (or albums I guess?) on repeat on mute and/or have dedicated streaming devices they keep going all the time.

Not to be negative or rude at all but like…what? Maybe because I’m new to KPop and have never followed it until BTS but that just sounds so weird and… idk the word, maybe disingenuous? Again I do not mean this as an attack I am just genuinely confused. Wouldn’t BTS themselves want us only to listen if we were actually enjoying it and not out of some competitive attempt to get better ratings? It feels so odd to me, like that is not how I would behave with any other artist that I love. I would only ever listen to them out of a genuine desire to hear their music. But there seems to be so much weird shaming out there for when/if songs are not streamed heavily enough? And for any other artist I would just write that off as a difference in taste among the fandom, but here it’s treated like a personal wrong against the artist…?

But as I say that I’m sure there’s more to it… I have definitely seen people talking about payola or chart manipulation so idk. If I should google this instead, just tell me to, I just have already tried and didn’t find that much clarity, just a bunch of people on quora and Reddit talking about certain songs not getting streamed enough.

Anyways this is super long, sorry if it annoys you. Just thought you seemed knowledgeable and levelheaded enough to ask? Love your posts. All the best.

*

Ask 2:

Okay wait I’m the anon that just asked about streaming and I went and re-read your post about “inorganic success” — I had read it before but somehow I didn’t put together that the 24-7 streaming is an attempt to combat payola or like go up against it I guess. Okay. That makes more sense. I still feel like there’s a weird focus on charting but I guess if it’s about getting more concert venues and more radio play it makes sense.

You can ignore my last ask then I’m sorry if I’m being dense or something lol.

***

You haven’t at all asked a stupid question. Your confusion is easily explained by you being new to k-pop, and everyone new to this madhouse asks this question eventually. I’ve talked about this before, but can’t find the post for the life of me so I’ll briefly go over it again.

First, you need to understand what k-pop is. K-pop is a system that gamifies music consumption. Competition is something you’ll see in the music industry regardless. Western stans such as Arianators, Barbz, and the Beyhive have organized around streaming goals and efforts for at least 10 years now. But there’s no other music industry that explicitly emphasizes competition among groups and fans, the way the k-pop industry does.

Competition is baked into its DNA:

From the idol training system under agencies with supposed specialities that are treated like warring houses a la Game of Thrones (a mentality created by the Big 3),

to the music shows where fans are encouraged to vote daily and weekly for the best artists and where wins are tied to streaming numbers,

to the highly publicized year-end award show criteria that outline key metrics for wins in streams, sales, and fan votes.

Basically, the k-pop industry creates a clear hierarchy of talent and acclaim for artists in their system, directly stokes fan participation in buying into that hierarchy, and the numbers are the easiest litmus test/short cut to settle the question of who is at the top.

And all of this is served with a cocktail of parasocial delusion and entitlement that has (more easily manipulated) fans thinking their perceived investment into their faves, earns them the right to micromanage their fave idols’ careers. All of this benefits the labels and industry because they’d rather have you more engaged (even if toxically), than not.

Everybody here buys into this system despite what they’ll tell you, some just manage to keep their wits and perspective to prevent getting sucked in, while others fall headfirst into it.

And so, like I said in my ‘inorganic success’ post you referenced, the focus on streaming is part of fans really just playing the game. Excess is something you’ll see on the charts in any case, whether in k-pop or in the West.

The difference with BTS and ARMYs however, is in the why of how the fandom streams. Essentially, you’re more likely to find people just as passionate about the music itself as they are about giving that music its due in hard numbers and consequently, recognition. You’re more likely to find fans like this in the ARMY fandom, than any other, in my opinion. Some people forget that the og ARMYs were k-pop fans first. They were fans who intimately understood how this system worked, they understood why the Big3 maintained dominance in k-pop for literal decades, and they saw the worth in the music BTS made, loved it enough to invest time into the playing the game better than anyone else at the time - pushing BTS from nugu status to where they are now, competing well outside the realm of the k-pop system but in a space that remains complex and highly competitive.

Another aspect that differentiates how ARMYs stream vs other k-pop fandoms, is that due to the sheer size of the fandom in absolute numbers, the average ARMY typically streams less than a typical k-pop stan. Basically, in other fandoms the typical stan has to stream more per person to have even a fraction of the gains seen in the ARMY fandom. ARMYs also aren’t doing anything other fandoms aren’t doing, it’s just that so far, they’re more efficient at it and don’t have to worry too much because BTS makes music that keeps attracting more fans, adding to the size of the fandom. They’ve also generally stayed away from more illegal methods given the intense scrutiny and animosity the fandom has faced for being part of the reason BTS upended the ordained hierarchy in this space. It sounds silly but it’s true.

But that’s only one side of the story. The other side is that in the fandom, everybody here really just does what they want. And many people genuinely enjoy listening to BTS that much and that intensely. Going by personal experience in what I observed before I became ARMY, I noticed that many ARMYs are Type A and organized - people who like and study data. The first time in my life that I saw someone create a spreadsheet for fan theories on a k-pop MV, was when an ARMY made one for I NEED U MV. I’m not sure what it is about BTS, but from the beginning they’ve attracted the sort of fans who genuinely enjoy listening to music often, people who enjoy creating and playing around with playlists, and people who track and measure applicable data. So your assumption that the people who stream like this are people who don’t actually enjoy the music, is wrong. In my opinion. For a lot of ARMYs, streaming and appreciating the music isn’t mutually exclusive.

Personally, I listen to music a lot. And I’ve always been that way, so when I became ARMY, I just sort of naturally fit into that culture. The sort of music BTS makes is a joy to listen to, I play their stuff literally everyday and it feels like the most normal thing in the world for me to sleep to Serendipity sometimes (in my sleep playlist which includes brown noise and rain sounds), or to do laundry to Let Me Know playing, or to drive to UGH and Set Me Free Pt 2 playing. I have multiple accounts because I listen to all kinds of music all the time, and it’s just convenient for me to have things set up such that I can flip on a playlist in every situation I’d want one on.

But like I said, the reality is that everyone in this fandom does what they want. It’s true there are certain people in the fandom who obsess over streaming, these are typically chartmys and akgaes, but most other people stream however they like. Fandom in general is a pressure cooker environment so I don’t blame you for noticing that pressure, but at the end of the day you really should just do what makes the most sense to you.

ARMYs generally recognize the reality of the space they are in, they recognize what it means for BTS, and most simply tweak their normal listening habits to maximize the gain and support to BTS. Plus sometimes it’s fun to play into fandom’s initiatives as a way to connect with other fans (such as in streaming parties).

I ended up rambling but let me know if this answered your question.

[sailorshadzter]

im late to the party & didnt get to do all the prompts

but i had to do this one. any excuse for me to rewrite this scene ill take lol

@zutaraweek / day7: forge

She isn’t certain how many times throughout the night she thinks this is madness.

But then his eyes meet hers and she’s set ablaze once more, burning passion that surges her forward, that keeps her pressing on. Through every encounter, through every moment, each one worse than the last. Until finally, after hours of travel, after a lifetime of waiting, she’s brought face-to-face with the man who killed her mother.

And even still, in the very end, she’s left unable to do anything at all. She wonders if that’s proof of her strength, or even her weakness. She knows Aang will be happy, perhaps even proud of her, and she can picture his gray eyes full of relief when he learns she did not take her revenge as she so desperately wanted. And truthfully, deep down beneath the surface of it all, she knows that would have been what her mother wanted as well. The last thing she’d have wanted was for her daughter to become a murderer just because of her. 

So, she’s done the right thing, yet she’s feeling strangely empty as they return to the place where they’d left their friends behind. 

Dawn is just barely breaking above the horizon when she slides down from Appa, who sinks into place on the shore for a well deserved rest. Katara makes a mental note to find him some apples to feed as her thanks for what he’s done for her over these last few days. Zuko turns her way when she pauses on the dock, but she waves him on, because she just needs some time to herself. And Zuko, somehow understanding her, nods, moving on towards the campsite, perhaps to carefully slip into his usual spot to sleep a few hours before their friends woke and found them returned. 

Behind her, she’s unaware that Aang of course wakes at once, and she’s also unaware that Zuko keeps him from coming her way- again, somehow his understanding of her needs is far greater than Aang’s or perhaps even Sokka or Toph. For that, she would someday be thankful. 

There on the dock, she sinks onto the edge, kicking her feet into the still blue water, unable to stare into her own reflection. She forces herself to think back through the memories of it all; her mother’s death, the pain of moving on… The anger, no, the hate she had felt for the man and the nation that had taken her from her. For her, the Fire Nation was nothing but evil, corrupt people with no regard for peace nor feeling. But then… Golden eyes appear in her mind and she looks up, surprised, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of the wayward prince. Somehow, Zuko had proven himself to be nothing like who she thought he was. Beyond what he’d done for her (not to mention saving her life more than once) he’d been fighting alongside them this whole time. And she supposes, it is easy to lose your way, to lose your faith… Hadn’t she just done the very same thing?

And who brought her back… Him. 

The sound of approaching footsteps alerts her and she looks up and over her shoulder, unsurprised to see the very subject of her thoughts standing there. Almost as if her thoughts had summoned him, he stands there with a sheepish look on his face, cheeks tinted red as he runs a hand through his hair. “Katara… I…” He says quietly, watching as she rises up to her feet, closing the gap between them. 

“You know…” She begins, shifting from one foot to the other, blue eyes rising up to meet gold. “I’m not ready to forgive that man for what he did, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to,” she admits, thinking of the old man he’d become, unlike the man she recalled from her memories. “But I think I am ready to forgive you.” She reaches for him then, embracing him in a way she’s never embraced anyone in her entire life. Though he startles at first, she feels his arms wind around her waist a moment later, drawing her in just a tiny bit closer. He’s warm, she notes, warmer than she expects him to be.

A moment later when she’s drawing away, she can’t help but to keep a hand to his arm, giving it a tender squeeze. In this moment, they both know one thing and one thing alone: something new has been forged from this embrace, from this encounter together. Something stronger than steel, something neither of them has ever experienced before. 

It would be something everlasting. 

[a-crumb-of-whump]

A New Beginning #14: Adoration

Masterlist | AO3

Content: Vamprie whumpee, recovery, multiple caretakers, human caretaker, PTSD/trauma, meltdown/panic attack, [implied] self harm (for the sake of food), blood (once again, for the sake of food), fear of being alone.

I am exhausted and haven't actually proof read this or anything, but i promised myself i'd post something before i fell asleep LOL.

-

It was only a few days after the gathering they’d had that Carlos heard from his new friend again. He hadn’t really thought much of it at first - Ryker was often getting calls from his employees and other important people that Carlos had never met, so it came as a surprise when the human called him into the living room and held out the phone to him with a polite smile. 

“Hey, man,” he greeted, already beginning to get out of his seat to make room for the vampire to sit down instead. “Charlie’s on the phone. Said he wanted to see how you were going. Would you like to sit down and talk to him while I get your breakfast ready?” 

Did he? What kind of question was that? 

“Yes please!” he chirped, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he took the phone from his human’s hand and sat down on the couch Ryker had just been sitting in. It was still warm, and he found himself snuggling further into the seat as he greeted the other human on the phone. “Good morning!” 

“Good morning to you, too,” Charlie spoke warmly. He still sounded a little groggy, like he hadn’t been awake for long, but Carlos could still hear the faint smile on his face regardless. “You’re sounding rather chipper. How’ve you been?” 

The vampire brought his knees to his chest and began to fiddle with the fabric of his pyjama bottoms as he talked. “I have been well, I think! I’m a little restless today, but Ryker said I just need some mental stimulation. So, he’s gonna set up some stuff for us to do later on.” Then he jumped all of a sudden, feeling as if he’d already forgotten his own manners. “Uhm- and how are you, Charlie?” 

“I’m okay, thank you for asking.” The tone in Charlie’s voice hadn’t shifted, instead remaining light and friendly, despite the fact that he clearly wasn’t all that awake just yet. “I have work today, unfortunately, hence why I’m awake so early. Though, I was actually thinking about dropping by for an hour afterwards, if that’s okay with you?”

Carlos found himself mildly confused. Why was he asking for permission from him to come and see Ryker and Adam? Were they even going to be around today? He thought he recalled the two of them informing him that they wouldn’t be around all that much this week. Had they not told Charlie?

“Uhm…” The vampire didn’t even really know how to answer. “Y-yes?”

Thankfully for him, Charlie seemed to catch on to his confusion pretty quickly. “You sound a little unsure? What’s on your mind?”

“...I guess I don’t really understand why you’re asking for my permission to come visit Adam and Ryker?”

He blinked cluelessly at the sound of Charlie’s light laugh. He didn’t think he’d said anything funny. Did Charlie not realise he was being serious? Though his cheeks flushed red at the embarrassment of being laughed at, he chose not to say anything else.

“You sweet thing. I meant I wanted to come see you. They’re both out this afternoon anyway, aren’t they? I think Ryker said their work schedules are pretty similar this week.”

Oh. It made sense now. However… it also didn’t. 

“You- you want to see me?” the vampire tilted his head. His fingers clutched the phone a little tighter as his heartbeat picked up a bit. This was so exciting. “Really? I- I’m not very good at talking to other people. People, uhm… they scare me.” 

“They scare me, too, buddy. You’re all good. Look, we can give it a miss today if you want? I’m happy to wait until a time where you’re feeling more comfy or one of the guys is around. I totally get it.” 

Carlos could have sworn he felt his heart stop for a moment. 

“No!” he practically cried, leaning forward in his seat as if it could possibly make his point any clearer. He had a death grip on the phone pressed to his ear while his other shaking hand dug Its nails into the leather that made up the couch. “N-no, please, I’ve only ever had two friends in my life. I love them so- so much b-but I don’t wanna be alone anymore. I want friends s-so much. Please come over? Please? I can make some human food for you if you’d like! I swear, I’ll do whatever you want!”

He knew he was being downright pathetic. He knew there was a good chance he was actively scaring his potential new friend away with his intensity, and yet he would have thrown himself onto his knees and begged like that if he were in front of him in that moment. 

Having heard his frantic voice, Ryker was by his side in an instant; resting a hand on his knee while the other arm held a paper towel to the cut on his arm. He’d clearly been in the middle of draining Carlos’ morning breakfast into a cup, and that only made Carlos feel all the worse. 

What is wrong with me? Why am I like this? Those same two questions repeated in his head over and over again.

“Carlos, you’re all good, man. It was just a suggestion,” Charlie was quick to reassure him. Nonetheless, Carlos could still feel the weight of his own panic creeping up on him, threatening to slowly push him into suffocation as if something was holding him against the wall by his throat. “It’s okay. I’ll come visit you this afternoon, then, yeah? Just like I suggested before. No one’s leaving y’alone.”

“I’m so-orry,” the vampire quietly hiccupped into his sleeve. “I’m sorry… I’m…” Behaving like a fucking toddler? Yeah, you are. 

He silently scowled at the voice in his head. It was so loud and so mean. Why couldn’t it just be nice to him? Why did it have to point out all his flaws and mock him as if he didn’t already know they were there? He was trying so hard to like himself just that little bit more. It was so hard…

Ryker squeezed his leg, seemingly trying to draw his attention away from whatever was bothering him. The vampire immediately glanced down at him distractedly, still holding onto the phone so tight his hands were shaking. 

“Sir?” he quietly whimpered. “I’m… I need… need…” He didn’t know what he needed. Didn’t know how to put how he was feeling into words because he’d never had to think about it before. Feelings didn’t matter. Hell, he hardly mattered. 

He guessed it was different now, wasn’t it? 

“I- I di’nt mean t’pressure you,” the vampire whispered in between more hiccups. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I told you I can’t speak to people…”

He was so grateful that Charlie had stayed on the line with him all throughout his little meltdown. Hearing his voice, knowing that he was still there only caused him to cry even more. 

“No, no, you’re doing good, man. I’ve been there before, yeah? I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve struggled to find the right words or lost friends because I’ve said insensitive things without realising. Though, I’ve learnt that the more you do it, the easier it gets. So, what if we practiced together this afternoon?” 

“You- you still wanna come over?” The vampire nearly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He glanced down at Ryker who was still kneeling by his legs, and the human gave him a comforting smile that silently assured him it was real. “You’ll be my friend?” 

There was another laugh. “Any friend of Adam and Ryker’s is a friend of mine. Look, I gotta finish my coffee and get ready for work but I’ll message Ryker with a time and you can expect to see me then, alright?” 

Carlos sheepishly wiped at his wet eyes, accidentally pricking his bottom lip with his fang as he bit it. “You mean it? You’ll really come?”

“Yeah, man. I promise. See you then?”

“O-okay.” Carlos nodded, somewhat more confidently this time. “Yeah. I will- uhm, see you then?” 

Ryker grinned the moment Carlos had hung up the phone. He took the phone from him and placed it down on the floor before taking his hand into both his own to squeeze it reassuringly. 

“You did it!” he exclaimed, the loud sound of his excited voice causing Carlos to jump a little. “I’m so proud of you for persisting!” 

“Tha-ank you?” He couldn’t tell if the human was being sarcastic or not. “I… I embarrassed myself, didn’t I, sir? I didn’t mean to…” 

Reaching up, Ryker affectionately ruffled the vampire’s growing hair with a smile. “Not at all. You’re doing well. I know Charlie very well - he’s one of my oldest friends, and there’s no one I’d trust more with someone I love than him.” 

That caused Carlos to look up from his lap. The wording was not lost on him, however clueless he usually found himself being. A small smile curved on his lips despite the wetness in his eyes, and he leaned forward to press his forehead to Ryker’s for just a moment; savouring the closeness between them before Ryker had to leave again. It was the only way he knew how to express his gratitude for him in that moment. Words were hard and he just did not have the strength to speak them anymore. 

He could only hope that Ryker understood the meaning behind his simple gesture. Otherwise, he’d be sure to find the words for it later. 

He needed Ryker to know how much he loved him, too. 

-

Carlos spent the entire day watching the clock on the wall and cleaning vigorously before his friend arrived. He’d made what Ryker had said earlier in the morning were his favourite sweets - cookies, cupcakes and a few store bought foods as well. Adam was even kind enough to do his makeup again and help him pick out an outfit for what must have been his very first visit from a friend ever. His friend, no less. Someone who was here for him, not his owners or the people around him. He wanted everything to be perfect. Wanted to prove that he could be a good friend to people, not just some dumb pet for them to take their anger out on.

He could do this. He could do this. He could do this.

When Charlie finally arrived at the designated time - right on time, might Carlos add - he had to let himself in, given the sun was looming right outside, threatening to attack the vampire if he so much as stepped an inch into the light. 

However, the second he had closed the front door, Carlos was already by Its side with his plate of cupcakes in his hand and a warm, excited smile on his face. “Thank you so much for coming,” he chirped as he held out said plate towards the human. “I made- uhm, your favourite cupcakes! Ryker gave me the recipe and helped me find all the ingredients for it. I hope you like them!” 

“He did, did he?” the human grinned as it slipped off Its shoes and placed Its bag down by the shoe rack. It leaned over to examine them before carefully taking one off the plate to bite into. “Boy knows me so well. These are excellent, Carlos.”

Carlos couldn’t help but feel amused at the way he spoke with his mouth stuffed with food. It reminded him so much of Adam. 

“Thank you! I worked very hard on them. Uhm, would you like to sit?” he asked, motioning to the living room where all the furniture was. “It’s just you and me this time, so… so you don’t have to sit on the floor. If- if you don’t want to, of course. Sir- I mean, Ryker said you might prefer the floor over the couch? I do sometimes, too.” 

The human shrugged. “The floor feels less formal, but I’m happy wherever. You’re looking wonderful today, might I add. Did Adam do your makeup for you?” 

“He did!” Carlos nodded, desperately trying to ignore the furious blush on his face as he plonked himself down on the couch and pulled his knees up to his chest for Charlie to sit down as well. As he did so, the human took another cupcake off the plate and began to eat that one, too. He likes them, Carlos realised with a giddy smile. “He purchased a practice makeup kit for me to use when he’s not around, but I’m not very good at it yet. I aim to get better, though.” 

“It’s a fun thing to learn. Can’t say I’m all that into it myself, but I see what It’s done for Adam. He loves it.”

It got Carlos wondering. “Well, what sort of things are you into, then? You said we could, uhm… pr-practice talking? So… is that a good start? You didn’t tell me all that much about yourself at the gathering…”

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t, did I?” Charlie offered him another smile as he shifted himself into the same position Carlos was in, but on the opposite side of the couch so they were facing each other. “Like I said, I suck at talking to people, too. I’m awkward and blunt and suck at reading body language and social cues. A lot of people don’t really like that. So… I tend to keep my distance. Keeps me safer, y’know?” 

Yes. Carlos knew exactly what it was talking about. 

“So… It’s not a vampire thing?” he asked quietly with a small tilt to his head. “That happens to me a lot, but I always thought I was just not smart enough to understand them, or- or that’s just how they treated vampires. Humans treat other humans that way as well?” 

He was saddened to see the human nod. “Unfortunately so.”

“That’s so sad.” 

Charlie shrugged. “I guess so. I have my little group of people who love and understand me regardless, so I don’t concern myself all that much with what the rest of the world thinks of me.” 

Carlos admired that. He cared far too much about what everyone else, particularly humans, thought of him. It was ingrained into his brain that his purpose was to please them, therefore he had to care, right? If there was one thing all the humans he’d lived with agreed on, it was that. 

“—but hey, fuck the rest of the world, right? Let’s talk about me.”

It surprised the vampire to hear himself laugh at the human’s rather vulgar language. 

“Yes!” he agreed, and the both of them eagerly leaned forward with their arms still tucked in their laps as if they were two gossiping school children. “Tell me everything there is to know.”

-

It turns out, the two had a lot more in common with each other than they thought. Charlie happened to be right into his digital art - something Carlos had no idea even existed until then - along with cooking and movies. He also mentioned that he loved the dark - that there was something calming and peaceful about it in a way that the day just couldn’t bring. He said that he often went on night walks along the beach when he couldn’t sleep, or relaxed under the stars in his backyard with a picnic blanket beneath him. 

It all sounded infatuatingly wonderful to Carlos. He didn’t feel safe enough to go outside anymore. Not without another person there to keep him company, but the idea of it made him more than a little giddy. He hoped there would come a time where he could enjoy the stars and the dark again, just like he had as a child. 

The human also came to mention that he was a collector of sorts, too. He had a collection of rocks and leaves he found fascinating sitting on his coffee table for people to admire when they came over, along with the more “common” stuff, like Pokemon cards and little figurines. He’d apparently been collecting for years - ever since he was a child, and had plenty to show for it. 

Within just a few hours, Carlos had grown to adore this human so much it hurt. It was living, breathing proof that there were other people just like Carlos. That he wasn’t alone, even if many people had tried to convince him otherwise. 

—and as the human prepared to leave again rather late in the afternoon, Carlos hugged him tighter than he ever thought he’d be able to grip someone, fingers digging into his back and his head buried against Charlie’s shoulder. He was grateful that it didn’t seem to mind, and instead held him just as tight. 

“Please come back sometime,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut out of sheer desperation. “Please. You’re… you’re like me. I like you so much!” 

There was, once again, a laugh as Charlie stood with him in the doorway. He could hear and feel Adam and Ryker’s presence behind him, presumably moving things around and giving the place a quick clean after their day at work, but he didn’t care. Not right now.

 “I like you so much, too! I’ll be back very soon, man. Promise.”

Carlos couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he hid it against the human's shoulder even more.

It was official. 

After ninety years of living on this god forsaken earth, Carlos Emrick had finally made a friend outside of Ryker and Adam.

He cried out of pure joy as he told his humans about his day that evening. It was easily on his list of best days ever, right underneath the day he met Ryker and the night he finally got to move in with him.

-

@alexkolax @emcscared-whumps @espresso-depresso-system @inkkswhumpandstuff @pigeonwhumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @roblingoblin285 @sacredwrath @stabby-nunchucks @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @trans-writes @whump-blog @whumpsday @whumpshaped @whump-things @whumpycries @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thekittyburger @choppedflowermuffinchild

[gabbagepatch]

Wasn't a virus ~ 4-3-2024

Okay, so... I got a ~flare~

I didn't know this shit could flare. I figured the nerve pain had stagnated, apparently not. Honestly it's kindof scary, I'm trying to cope with the fear while waiting for the neurologist. I'm having a hard time. I cry almost every night. I'm really tired of dealing with this, I just want to be well. I'm okay-ish. I'm doing things I enjoy, spending time with my loved ones, etc. But at night it still hurts and that's really difficult. I'm very impatient to see the neurologist because I just want them to tell me I'm okay.

Four weeks ago when this started I had about a week of intense nerve pain and vomiting + other unsavory GI issues. Lack of appetite, malaise, brain fog, twitching, etc. It stagnated at a manageable mild-moderate discomfort via twitching and tingling. Then three days ago it ramped up again and last night I had an intense attack that echoed the first flare.

There was certainly some improvement from the first time though. The first time the burning sensation was nearly constant for 2-3 days with multiple bouts of vomiting. Last night after the peak of the flare it was manageable and I was able to get to sleep at the reasonable time. For reference, the first flare I was up until 6am.

I'm feeling worn out and poorly today with some unpleasant sensations in my face but otherwise it's still more manageable than the first flare. Hopefully this means the severity will keep decreasing until it goes away? It sounds weird but I'm a bit hopeful since this time is much easier than the first.

Me and my PCP suspect I have gadolinium deposition disease. The issues began within a week I received an MRI with contrast and my symptoms match it near perfectly. It's not an "official" disease, whatever that means, but if the shoe fits! I'm fighting to get a 24hr urine test so we can know for sure. I think it's kind of ridiculous that it's so difficult to get a test for a substance 15 million Americans receive every year.

My last therapy session is next Tuesday too, so I'll need to start looking for a long-term counselor soon. Another doctor to search for lol. Honestly the appointments make me feel better, like I have a witness and it gives me something to do. A goal. I miss having goals that weren't centered around my health.

I really appreciated my last therapy session, she helped me do mental exercises working through the death of my dog. She also helped me find some coping mechanisms to deal with the fear of having an undiagnosed illness. Her recommendation was to write down my symptoms, especially when they're making me feel isolated.

I'm feeling a lot of guilt about the stress this is putting on my parents. I was crying last night being held by my mom and said, "I'm so sorry, I never wanted to put you through this again."

She replied, "You're not putting me through anything. We're going through this together."

That made me feel a lot better. You can never completely silence the negative thoughts but that certainly lowered the volume. I love my mom.

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"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." - Matthew 6:34

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[todaystarot]

Just like the fs pack too

I'm so done and tired with all these bs🙄

Especially all the people who's so obsessed with their fs this and fs that, when will he/she come? This month/year? What time and date?? And asking all that bullshit

Like bruh, stfu

How can people don't work their inner child, inner teen, inner trauma and love themselves until universe see you're ready and send your fs alignment ???

That's not how its work when you're obsessed and waiting for your fs to save you like a prince w a white horse saving you from the bad dragon like in disneyland😔

Oof I wrote such a long answer to this, but it got deleted because I got a like,, I am taking this as a sign to shorten my answer.

I honestly feel like your expression of this is unnecessarily mean, but I completely understand your frustration, especially if you are a reader.

I personally don’t really care too much future spouse readings either, because the only one I am interested in is mine lol. I do think it could be worse though.

Most people asking those questions are either bored or have already worked through major issues they were recently facing or battling.

You constantly learn and heal of course, but it’s okay if they wanna relax with learning about their future spouse.

I personally hate self, shadow and ‘how to heal’ - or something along those lines - readings because I can learn and go through my issues myself and usually people cannot read my energy properly either. Surely, there’s people who can relate to that in one way or another.

Considering everything though, you probably mean those obsessed ones who read future spouse pacs everyday right? And ask the same question several times to the point it’s unhealthy just to make sure everyone says the right answer.

To be fair with you, they most probably have an addictive personality.. meaning they get addicted to things easily. - though, you can work on this. I am not defending those who actively damage their health on purpose. -

In a community like this they were set up to fail.

Think about it, there’s a few type of tarot readers.

1 Those who genuinely adore and have an interest in tarot, understand it deeply due to studying it a lot or having experience.

2 Those who learned tarot not as a hobby but to gain money, but they are still very sincere and studied before opening a blog or youtube channel in order to not mislead anyone.

3 Overly sweet tarot readers, who exaggerate in order to gain people’s trust, but at the end they just want money.

4 Tarot readers who ‘keep it real’ but in reality fake asf bc they lie in your readings because their mentality effects their intuition

5 Tarot readers who really like tarot, but it’s not their calling bc they are gifted in something else.

All of these people post pick a cards, or at the very least answer free questions, host games and giveaways. Obviously, I am not judging, I am obviously a part of this community.

The thing is, since these people have an addictive personality they read any pac that sounds interesting regardless of whatever reader it might be from.. they might like it and read more for more dopamine hits, they might dislike it.. and then they can’t complain because of ‘if it doesn’t resonate leave it.’ Sometimes, it actually doesn’t resonate, and at other times the reader just let their intuition be effected by unrelated things. They can’t complain, because they will be viewed as toxic. Tarot is meant to be taken as a grain of salt after all.. it’s one of the “rules” of it. Besides, if they hate then the reader might get harassed, which is irresponsible and bad. They might block and move on with their day, or potentially go and read more pacs to try and hit more of that fleeting pleasure of dopamine. Then eventually, because of consuming too much things they will be confused on what’s accurate and what’s not. They no longer can pick a card, picture, crystal, figure or number. You get the gist. So they go on to ask questions in games, on blogs that answer questions for free and so on.

You know, what’s the kicker though?

They don’t realise that the future spouse they read about 6 months ago and today are different.. until they do. And their new addiction will be asking about them.

So, ultimately, this is a much more deeper issue than just “oh this motherfucker is annoying”.

That’s why I personally don’t want to be mean to them, I don’t want to judge them because even if they are slowly self sabotaging there’s much more to them that I don’t know. Besides, we can never truly know who is obsessed. Maybe it’s their first time asking, out of boredom.. to “test” intuitive people or because they are starting to be interested in tarot. Thousands of people, thousands of reasons.

No snow flake is the same shape.

So, yeah future spouse questions annoy the hell out of me too sometimes but everyone is a little bit like them. Some people are obsessed with career readings, financial readings, school readings, self readings, 18+ readings, spiritual gifts/dr readings, future self readings, inner child and so on… At the end of the day, we all have a preference.

At the end of the day, we can be oceans and skies apart but we are in the same community.

I do like your comparison to ‘waiting for a prince’. It reminded me of how Fiona waited for prince charming her whole life just to end up with Shrek. She was happier though, so that’s neat.

Either way, I am not disagreeing with you, I just like discussions.