#let's be honest bob kind of plays the same character everything he's in

[thekimspoblog]

Even if they never reprise their roles in Breaking Bad, I'm sure Bob Odenkirk and Rhea Seehorn will play opposite eachother in something again sooner or later, considering they seem to be besties IRL. I just hope it's some vaguely Thenardiers-esque married duo, because I mean give the people what they want.

[bellamyblake]

HI! I've read some of your meta and headcanons and because I love them I have to ask, do you think Bellamy would've still been made bad even without Bob asking for time off? What are your thoughts on it? I saw you didn't chose the easy way out like most ppl and simply call him OOC but you understood some actions in a different way.

aw, hey! that's so kind, thanks for checking out my stuff. i haven't posted meta recently cause even when i have thoughts i don't always share them but debate about it in my mind so i wont be annoying.

the short answer to that is-yes. i absolutely think bellamy would've been made the villian of the story no matter what bob asked for.

i think the season 7 storyline absolutely copies the season 3 one where the same thing happened and i think that the path here was the same.

he would've gone through what he did in Etheria just like he went through everything he did in s3 A's episodes-something painful would've happened, he would've accepted the idea of transcendence and then after making a few mistakes in which I still think, no matter how much Bob had filmed, the other characters would've acted absolutely the same-

because guess what-

we've already seen in s3, absolutely the same thing.

so they would've still hated him the same way and blamed him for everything instead of reaching out to him. and then ultimately he would've seen things from within this broken system and realized Cadogan was wrong and this is bad and made the decision HIMSELF, then helped the others out, perhaps gotten hurt (like Levitt was in that finale episode, I remember i read somewhere it was supposed to be bellamy) and then ultimately maybe ended on the beach.

that's exactly what would've happened, i have about zero doubts about it cause as i said, we've seen it already.

the problem with bellamy was never that he was OOC. that is why i see things differently-it is the way the OTHER characters see him. or more specifially, how the writers write those characters seeing bellamy.

jroth has always admitted he had a hard time writing for bellamy. that his wife often asked him about it and questioned what he'll do with him and the thing is i dont think jroth always knew what to do and when he didn't, he opted for making him lean into his darker thoughts and trust his heart when he is hurt and alone otherwise making him bad because it was easier and because he knew bob wouldn't mind playing a bad guy as he had stated he liked that in earlier seasons.

the season 3 storyline follows the absolutely same path to the season 7 one (or the one it should've been had it been developed absolutely in the way jroth wanted it to be).

bellamy is a little lost and confused, he's trying to protect his family but then instead of doing things the right way, more death follows, so he decides to trust in to those who offer another option-PIke in s3 who speaks into his grief and absolutely into the guilt he feels.

the reason why pike wins bellamy over is because unlike Kane who keeps saying none of this was bellamy's fault, because he simply cannot read bellamy the right way and clarke isn't there, pike tells him the thoughts he falls asleep with every night-it's your fault, you killed those people, you didn't save gina.

a similar thing happens in s7-deucette and the others offer a way out. if we have to be honest with ourselves, clarke and bellamy's *doing better* never actually worked and especially not in s6.

bellamy is seeing more and more that the more he tries, the worse it gets, even when he's doing his best.

seeing his first sin-his mom, who was the death he didn't want to cause but did because he let his feeling show and wanted to make octavia happy, just speaks volums to him.

i also want to mention here that there are two more people who definitely play a role in his choice to trust what they're talking about here and that are Jasper and Monty.

Jasper because he saw there was no way out of their violent ways and opted to leave the world and Monty who too, separated himself from the clarke and bellamy world and decided to live a quiet albeit lonely life with harper because he realized that IS doing better or at least living better. partly both their reasons were selfish and ultimately don't help the entire group.

what deucette and cadogan offer, do. they safe everyone. that is what bellamy wants-to help them all, it was always his goal from the moment he adopted those kids on the ground. frankly, clarke lost that somewhere, but i dont think he ever did, especially not after season 4 when he spent all those years up on the ring with the others.

i dont find him OOC. i find the story shitty, yes, absolutely but i think and i will get yelled for that but that the City of Light storyline in all honesty wasn't at all that different from the lights and finding another form of eternal life-it was just underdeveloped and ofc jroth couldn't do something like CoL again in 7 as it already existed so he made it these weird beans of light.

do you know who the only character who never was invloved with CoL or that SL from the hundred was?

Bellamy.

Do you know why? Because I don't think Jroth knew how to do that at all. he had that chance here again, to try and indulge a SL where he could perhaps put bellamy into this world. the only problem was that he doesn't know how to write bellamy into a major storyline without making him a villain or making his actions a part of some redemption ark (e.g s2 and s4).

and in all honesty, the problem was never with bellamy. it was with clarke and everyone else. because the same thing that happened in s7 had already happened in s3.

no one, not a single soul, tried to undrestand what was happening with bellamy then. clarke argued but she wasn't there and didnt see him suffer-in fact she left him and said-they are your responsibility now, something he has lived for his entire life and now repeated for 48 kids he barely got there. octavia lashed out and just wanted to leave with lincoln, have her own life, miller, harper, kane, sinclair all worked against him without understanding him. kane preached the entire time how he's making a mistake but he never once tried to speak into what he feels the way pike smartly did. monty was somewhere in the middle, ultimately turned good.

in s7, clarke, o, raven and everyone else argue with bellamy. he tries to explain himself, tell them what he saw, how it all happened, that his mom was there, that he saw something. do you know what happens?

nothing. they bash him and tell him he's nuts.

let's see some examples of the opposite:

in s 2 ep 16 clarke says-I have no choice, I have to do this.

What does bellamy do?

he covers her hand and turns the lever with her.

in 3x16-she says i have to go into CoL after taking the chip.

what does bellamy say-I trust you.

in 4x01-she says ALIE said the radiation is coming for us all.

Bellamy said-we're looking into it, I trust her.

in 4x03 Clarke says-I don't deserve to live, not after everything.

Bellamy says-Yes you do and writes her name on the list.

in 4x13 Clarke says-I think I may be dying, mom had a vision of me dying.

Bellamy says-so what? You will be okay. AFTER SHE ALMOST SHOT HIM IN 4x11 MIGHT I REMIND YOU ALL.

the problem was never with bellamy. not in s7, not in any other season. yes he is flawed that is without saying, he did make mistakes, and that is why i love him and clarke and octavia because they make mistakes.

but don't let us make the same one-that the way he sees everyone else is the same they do because it isn't and never was.

and

that is the tragedy of bellamy blake.

[mrepstein]

The Beatles Book Monthly (No. 5, December 1963)

‘A TALE OF FOUR BEATLES’ by Billy Shepherd

PART IV (PART I // PART II // PART III)

Part IV opens in June, 1961 and charts Brian Epstein's early involvement with the Beatles.

And so the Beatles, with two experience-garnering trips to Germany behind them, got back to Liverpool. A swingin’ scene... and they were very much a part of it. It was the end of June, 1961.

But though they liked having more money to spend, they hadn’t the foggiest idea of just how much they were worth. The offers came in. Anything between £6 and £14 was the pay-packet, to be shared between Messrs. Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and drummer Pete Best.

“We just didn’t know,” admits George. “We loved the work, the excitement. We didn’t realise we were often being exploited. But it was hard work and somehow we didn’t seem to have much money in the kitty after we’d kept our equipment up to scratch...”

July, 1961, could go down as a summit meeting in Merseybeat history. A steamy, summery, shimmery night at Litherland Town Hall. A young promoter named Brian Kelly announced his attraction: The Beatmakers.

George Harrison was on lead guitar. Paul McCartney on rhythm. John Lennon on piano. Drummers were Pete Best and Freddie Marsden. Les Maguire operated on saxophone, Les Chadwick on bass guitar - and Gerry Marsden nipped on and off behind a big grin to take the vocals.

Gerry and the Pacemakers and the Beatles had linked up. For one night only and for a fee which is the smallest fraction of what they’d command for such a show now.

It led to friendships between the group members... but it didn’t seem to be leading to that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for the Beatles.

Says John: “We went on knocking ourselves out night after night but somehow there was a bit of frustration creeping in to it all. It didn’t seem to be leading anywhere.”

But the audiences were greatly appreciative.

Says Paul: “We started accepting dates further south. We got pretty near London on some of them. No change of material for us - still the stuff that went down so well in Germany. But we were veering away from the leather gear. Don’t make this sound big-headed, but the fact is that a lot of other groups were copying the way we looked on stage. So we changed to more ordinary clothes for a while.”

But in September, depression set in. Paul and John took themselves off to Paris for a holiday. They remember being flat broke. Remember having to search through every pocket to rake up enough francs for a Coke. Now, of course, they can go where they please and not count the cost.

And George and Pete stayed on in Liverpool, virtually lost to the Beat scene. Ray McFall, owner of the Cavern Club remembers seeing Messrs. Harrison and Best around the lunch-time sessions but they seemed dispirited. They took a lot of persuading even to join in on the impromptu roar-ups.

Let well-known Liverpool show compere Bob Wooler fill in the background to this black spot in the Beatles’ history.

“I’ve known the boys since the early days. I’ve been a long-time admirer. What they really needed was a manager in those far-off days. They seemed content not to argue about the fees they were offered. And they didn’t seem to realise that they were pulling in crowds on the strength of their own name and performance.

“After all, they had to live. They had to look after their equipment - and they often had travelling expenses to pay. It’s all very well being popular and enjoying your work, but you should be paid what you’re worth as well.

“Ray McFall at the Cavern was different. If the crowd was good, he upped the fee. That’s why the boys have always been so loyal to the Cavern. But you can understand them being puzzled at the lack of hard cash from their other venues where they were so often doubling the attendances.”

Paul and John were meanwhile spending a lot of time on their song-writing. You’ll see how much they’d already achieved in this direction as the story pushes on to the first recording days.

John and Paul could never sit down and simply write a song to order. They admit: “We have to wait for the ideas to arrive. It can happen anywhere. On a bus, or a train, or backstage at a dance-hall or theatre. Sometimes the title suggests itself first. Then we get going on the words and music. Sometimes we’ve finished a very successful seller in less than an hour.”

But their most pressing need was for a manager. Paul has told me “When we first started on paid jobs, we honestly thought we weren’t manageable. We thought nobody would want to bother with us. We were a pretty off-beat bunch of characters, to say the least. And we had a sense of humour which somehow involved us all and which was hardly in the interests of discipline. So, for a long time, we just didn’t take any notice of the advice that we should be properly handled. ‘Who’d WANT US,’ was the way we thought...

“And that’s where we were wrong...”

A MANAGER. Liverpool man Allan Williams took on the chore for a while... he now runs the Blue Angel Club on Merseyside.

But the man who was to make show business history with the Beatles knew nothing about the group in that September of 1961. That man, of course, was Brian Epstein, one-time drama student, member of a family which owned a chain of furniture and radio-TV stores in Liverpool.

He was not exactly WITH the beat scene. But he WAS in touch with the public taste through his work in the record department of the stores. He’d been there for five years, building up the business, enlarging the staff roster and increasing the turnover.

And in September, 1961, he was a puzzled man. Fans kept approaching him with: “Have you any records by the Beatles?” Brian mused. Pondered. Wondered. One young lad was particularly persistent in his demands. Brian dug deep into the record-lists. And found reference to that “My Bonnie” single, recorded in Germany, on which the Beatles played a strictly supporting role to guitar-star Tony Sheridan.

“I became Beatle-conscious for a while,” he says. “I always tried to work on the theory that the customer was right - and if they wanted the Beatles, well... I’d do my best to supply the Beatles. Eventually I traced the source and ordered some 200 copies for the record-stores. They sold quickly...

“Then out of the blue I heard they were Liverpool boys, had a rapidly-growing following - and were actually playing in a club near the store. It was a place that I’m sure I’d visited before, a sort of teenage gathering-place, but I really didn’t know much about it.

“After a while, I thought I’d better pop down there and see what all the fuss was about.”

Brian Epstein went to the Cavern. Met the Beatles. And things really started happening for the ambitious but not-too-sure group.

There are two ways of looking at this near-historic meeting. Brian Epstein’s. And the Beatles’ viewpoint.

Beatles first. Said George: “He started talking to us about the record that had created the demand. We didn’t know much about him but he seemed very interested in us and also a little bit baffled.

“He came back several times and talked to us. It seemed there was something he wanted to say, but he wouldn’t come out with it. He just kind of watched us and studied what we were doing. One day, he took us to the store and introduced us. We thought he looked rather red and embarrassed about it all.

“Eventually, he started talking about becoming our manager. Well, we hadn’t really had anybody actually VOLUNTEER in that sense. At the same time, he was very honest about it all - you know, like saying he didn’t really know anything about managing a group like us. He sort of hinted that he was keen if we’d go along with him...”

Brian, quite honestly, thought that the Beatles looked a mess. He wondered what exactly they thought they were trying to be. Their strange jackets, the rather scruffy jeans, the hair-styles, which could only have been styled on something called “chaos.”

“But there was something enormously attractive about them,” he recalls. “I liked the way they worked and the obvious enthusiasm they put into their numbers. People talk about the Liverpool sound but I sometimes wonder what exactly they mean. These boys put everything into their routines but they didn’t use echo. That struck me as being a very good thing.

“It was the boys themselves, though, who really swung it. Each had something which I could see would be highly commercial if only someone could push it to the top. They were DIFFERENT characters but they were so obviously part of the whole. Quite frankly, I was excited about their prospects, provided some things could be changed.”

And Brian told his friends: “This could easily turn out to be the biggest show business attraction since Elvis Presley.” It’s a tribute to his foresight and intuition that that is precisely what has happened.

Brian decided to get the boys together at a round-table conference at his store. A time was fixed and the boys agreed. But Beatles are not always the easiest of people to organise. Brian sat waiting... and waiting... and waiting. He was trying to cope with the vastly complex figures of Christmas orders for the store and minutes were precious to him.

Eventually THREE Beatles arrived. George, John and Pete. No Paul. Story goes that Brian got George to ring through and see what had happened to the left-handed guitar-star. And that Paul admitted he was still in the bath... but wouldn’t be long!

Brian was rather on his high-horse. He felt it was not the right thing for someone who wanted to talk business to be kept waiting. He pointed out that Paul, the cherubic one of the four, would be extremely late. “Yes,” said George, forcing back a grin. “But he’ll also be extremely clean.”

Says Brian: “That sense of humour is invaluable. You could hardly feel annoyed at their lack of business ability. They were just four individual and off-beat characters.”

Prior to Brian taking such an interest, there was great concern among Cavern people that there was a chance of the Beatles packing in all thoughts of show business careers. Bob Wooler had tried hard to get BBC television producer Jack Good interested in the group. Jack had produced beat shows, like “Six-Five Special” which had been the stepping-stone to success for artistes like Cliff Richard. But Jack was also in demand in the States... and he’d gone there to further his own career long before Bob could get any decision from the telly-folk.

Brian, having eventually assembled all four Beatles in the same room, put his propositions to them. He went through a process of brain-washing, though he did it all very tactfully. He didn’t like their manner of dress. Wasn’t knocked out by the unruly hair-cuts. Was singularly unimpressed by the way they casually drank tea on stage while in the middle of shows.

He pleaded with them rather than ordered them. He knew they were a valuable property and he was knocked out at the way their personal following was growing through the Merseyside area.

Said John: “He’d tell us that jeans were not particularity smart and could we possibly manage to wear PROPER trousers. But he didn’t want us suddenly looking square. He let us have our own sense of individuality.”

He added: “We respected his views. We stopped champing at cheese rolls and jam butties on stage. We paid a lot more attention to what we were doing. Did our best to be on time. And we smartened up, in the sense that we wore suits instead of any sloppy old clothes.”

It was a master-plan. A long-term plan if necessary but it was aimed at making the most of four young men who clearly had that star quality in them... even though a recording contract was still more than nine months away.

Obviously, Brian Epstein’s main job was to get the group on record. He knew the strength of their popularity in Liverpool and he felt it wouldn’t be a hard job to interest some of the London companies. But that was where Brian was wrong.

He even delayed any sort of action until the results of the 1961 “Mersey Beat Poll” were announced. That came up at the end of the year. And the Beatles were high and dry in top place in this important survey of how the public felt about the myriad groups operating in the scene. Said Brian: “I thought this was the ‘Open Sesame’ to the recording scene. I felt that Liverpool was important enough to have London executives falling about to sign the boys. I was wrong...”

Brian, though technically still in charge of important parts of the family business, threw himself into the job of getting the Beatles known nationally. He had the backing of the Beatles’ parents and it was to be no holds barred for the major break through.

He started visiting London. Hopefully. Optimistically. But record executives showed an alarming tendency to register non-committal gloom. Brian had to keep reporting apparent failure to the boys - by now riding higher than ever in popular acclaim in Liverpool.

Cont’d next month in No. 6

[peculiarscriptures51]

The one where he needs a babysitter Pt.2 (PJM)

"Alright, that should be everything. Uh... call me if you need, or if you have questions or anything at all. You actually came in the knick of time, so I guess that means you start now." Jimin concluded, stopping in the playroom. Minseon looks up at the adults curiously.

Hazel smiles, Jimin starting to hand Jaemin over to her, the baby having fell asleep as Jimin was showing her around, informing her of everything she'd need to know and the whereabouts of things. Jaemin stirs slightly, he used to always fuss whenever Jimin gave him to Suan, however the moment his head was on Hazel's shoulder, face tucked into the crook of her neck, he fell back to sleep. Jimin would consider that a good sign, kids and babies were honest judges of character after all. "I just changed him before you got here so he'll be good for a couple of hours, I'd say-"

"Appa's going already?" Minseon stood up, pouting up at Jimin. Jimin nods, his older son hugging his leg. The businessman sighs, looking back to Hazel who was being stared at by his son.

He studies the fond look in her eyes, which were brown, though if the light caught they were a shade of hazel. He blinks, coming back to reality and pulling his phone from his pocket. "I-I should give you all my numbers, just in case," he clears his throat, watching Hazel pull her phone from her pocket, keeping Jaemin secure in her arm. They made a successful exchange before it was time for Jimin to head to work. He kisses Jaemin's head, and squatted down to hug his eldest. "Be good for Hazel noona, okay? I'll know if you misbehave." Jimin advised.

Minseon bobs his head deeply. So much that his thick ebony locks became a curtain over his eyes, he was still pouting but obedient nonetheless. "Thanks again, Hazel-ssi. I'll be back tonight." He granted, rushing off to his garage. The door was shut, and Hazel was met with silence.

She looks down at Minseon, who had his shoulders slumped in defeat still facing the direction his father had went. He was quite down about his father leaving, so she wanted to dedicate that day to cheering him up.

"Minseonie? It's nice to meet you. My name is Hazel." She said in a gentle voice, the young boy turns to face her. She holds her free hand out to him, and he hesitates, grabbing it. She coos, shaking his hand. "What do you like to do, sweetheart?"

She'd called him the nickname in English, and although Minseon didn't understand it, he quite liked it. Hazel was different, someone he hadn't really seen before, but something about her made him like her far more than Suan noona. Her voice was gentle and she had a kind face, at least from his perspective, she did.

He leads her back into his playroom, tugging her hand, which wrapped around his. He sits on the floor, watching her place Jaemin in bed, the barriers put up already for the baby to rest comfortably and peacefully on the floor. Jaemin started to whimper as he was set down, though Hazel pushed his binky further in and rubbed his back until he relaxed.

She then tip-toed back to the elder son, sitting in front of him with her legs crossed. "What should we play, Minseonie?"

"Let's play house! Eomma used to play it with me before she was gone." He said enthusiastically.

Hazel feels her heart ache a bit, she'd assumed Jimin was married, he had a ring on every finger, after all. "You wanna play house? Then who should I be?" She cooed.

"You be Eomma! I can be the baby." He said cheerfully, Hazel chuckling and holding a finger to her lips to quietly remind him to tone his volume down for his brother's sake. Though Jaemin was sleeping rather deeply.

"How come a big boy like you wants to be the baby?" Hazel cooed, Minseon giggling. "'Cause Appa like Jaejae more." He stated simply, as though it were the most normal thing. However, from an outsider's perspective she could tell Minseon felt a bit of turmoil.

Hazel hums, "Minseon, sweetie, I don't think that's true. Your Appa loves you both the same."

A pout starts to make his face, he crawls closer to Hazel and rests his head on her torso where he sits. She feels him grip her shirt. "Then why is he not hewe...?"

Hazel sees what this is about now, the boy just misses his father. Jimin has to work and provide for the family. And now she's convinced he's single considering that the lack of couple pictures - which are commonly found in Korean households - were nowhere to be seen in the house. The time he does actually spend with the boys must have to be spent tending to the baby, because he's younger.

Hazel hears a sniff, "Minseonie?" She was a bit flustered, his grip on her shirt tightens, and he hides his face from her completely. "I don't want Eomma back but... Appa's never hewe... Suan noona was so mean....!"

"Oh, sweetheart..." was all she could think to say for the moment. She tries to conduct some reassuring words to make him feel better. Though she wasn't prepared for him to be so open so quickly. "You don't need to worry about Suan noona anymore, okay? She won't be mean to you."

He sniffs and pulls his puffy red face from her flat stomach, his chin jutted out as he pouts. "W-Weally?"

Hazel nods, and Minseon fumbles with his fingers, as if anxious to know the next answer. "What about Appa?"

Hazel didn't want to get his hopes up and lie, so she thought of the next best thing. "I think, since your Appa loves you so very much, that if you tell him how you feel then things might feel a little better. Hmm?"

He studies his tiny wet hands, hiccupping once in a while. "But what if he yells like Eomma did?"

"I don't think he will, sweetie. You love your Appa, right?" He bobs his head. "And you know he loves you?" Another head bob, "Then it's always best to be honest. Have you told Appa how you felt before?"

Minseon shakes his head, his chubby cheeks flushing prominently as tears surface again. She wipes his cheek with her thumb carefully, "I don't think Appa knows how you feel, sweetie. It's hard to fix something you don't know about-"

"C-Can you tell him with me?" He whimpered hopefully. Hazel sighs, and nods her head though she wasn't sure if she could fulfill that wish. The boy seemed desperate, and to add to the mix he had a really cute face - in other words caving was inevitable.

Minseon crawls over her leg, sitting in the space between her legs and leaning into her. "I wish you were my Eomma. You'we nice and pretty and smell good. Eomma wasn't nice to me."

Hazel didn't think it was that serious, and despite her curiosity to know what happened to - what she presumed was - Jimin's spouse, she knew it wasn't her business and it would not be very appropriate of her to pry. She had too much respect for people's privacy to do that.

Hazel felt a tug at her hair. She realizes Minseon had grasped one of her dark, glistening coils and pulled it. He stares in awe as it springs back into place. He must really enjoy how bouncy it is.

"You like my hair?"

He nods his head, standing up and studying it, like it was a new discovery of his, telling by his genuine reaction she was convinced it is. "'S soft, noona."

She giggles, wrapping her arms around him and sitting him in her lap, as adorable as he was she didn't want him pulling her hair. She'd put it up when she got the chance. "Which toys are your favorite?"

They played for a good hour or so, Minseon enthusiastically showing her his toys as she played with him. Jaemin woke up, he pulled himself to his feet using the barrier as leverage. "Appa..." Hazel heard his soft voice.

He scrubbed his eye and looked up at Hazel confused when she went to go fetch him. Minseon was telling her about a time the family went to the park and found turtles.

Jaemin stares at Hazel curiously, his binky bobbing. She holds the baby in her lap as she listens intently to Minseon. He was basking in the amount of attention she was giving him, his eyes seemed brighter. He must not get this much attention with others.

She checked the time, deciding she'd get lunch ready for the boys. She learned several Korean recipes from her ex's mother. She was so very kind to her.

"Play nice together," she said, leaving Jae with Minseon. Jimin texted her to ask how things were going, to which she responded quickly and alerted him that everything was going smoothly.

She brings the boys to the table, helping them eat, especially Jaemin, who didn't seem to want to feed himself. She was last to eat, and her food had gotten cold, however she didn't mind.

She followed the schedule accordingly, both boys didn't cause too much trouble as they were being put to sleep, mostly because they were tuckered out from playing all day. Hazel decided to make herself useful and clean up the playroom and kitchen until Jimin would return.

🌺🌺🌺

Hazel's head bobs, she had been nodding off for a good hour now, and was trying to watch tv to make up for time, but alas it was late and there wasn't a sign of Jimin yet.

As if on cue, she heard the door to the garage open on it's own, and blinked the sleepiness from her eyes to face it. Jimin sighs, immediately heading to the kitchen and placing his keys on the counter. He drops his head, Hazel gets up, starting to approach. "Mr. Park?" She called.

Jimin lifts his head, looking worn from the day's work. It was clearly taking a toll on him, not to mention the late hour. "Oh? You're still here?"

Hazel was a bit confused to hear that. Of course she was still there, she couldn't go home and leave the children in a house by themselves. Something could happen. Jimin noticed her tilted brow and sighed, waving his hand dismissively, "Wait, I'm sorry. It's just that Suan went home before I'd get here sometimes. I didn't expect you to be here so late."

Hazel hums, if you asked her that's quite an unprofessional move on Suan's part. She didn't seem like much of a good babysitter. How could you abandon a three-year-old and baby in a house alone by themselves? Luckily nothing happened!

"It's better for me to stay here until you're return, just in case something happens..." he nods his head, his fluffy hair falling over his face like a solemn drape of sorts. "...Are you okay, sir?" She asked worriedly, as he looked quite drained.

Jimin managed to deflate more as he nods, "Yeah, I'm just tired is all. How were the boys today? Not too much trouble, I hope?"

Hazel feels herself smile, "They were fantastic. You're raising very bright children, Mr. Park." For once since his return, Hazel finds his lips tugging in the dimness of the kitchen. He chuckles slightly at her enthusiasm.

"What about Jaemin? Was he a handful?"

"Not at all! How come you're asking?"

Jimin turns his body toward her, resting his elbow on the kitchen island and leaning on it. "It's just that he developed an intestinal problem - it's nothing too serious, very common. But his diaper changes..." he trailed off and Hazel hummed, seeming to understand where he's getting at.

"It wasn't anything I couldn't handle."

His smile grows, and despite the exhaustion hooding his eyes, there was a fondness dancing in them. Hazel couldn't place a reason as to why he was giving her that look. "How much experience do you have?"

"I've never babysat for work, until today, but I've helped watch my younger cousins before." She replied honestly, though she hoped that her lack of experience wouldn't negatively affect her ability to keep this job. She quite liked it, more than she thought she would.

"Do you mind me asking what else you may be doing for a living?" Jimin wondered.

"I'm a grad student at university, I transferred last year. Currently, I'm studying chemical and medical science." She explained vaguely.

He hums, brows rising, he was impressed. "You're graduating soon?"

"I've only got a semester and a half left."

"So you're doing this for money?"

"Just something to help me pay bills for my new apartment, I just moved in on my own, you see..." she trails off, as the backstory had a history behind it.

Jimin could sense that the conversation was breaching sensitive territory, and so he decided to get down to business. "When are you available to work?"

"Anytime you need, sir. My classes are online, so I can work from pretty much anywhere."

Jimin loved her dedication. Suan was nothing like this, Hazel didn't even mention money, though by now Suan would be demanding her check be handed to her immediately. He could tell that sleep was calling her name and he felt guilty that she stayed so long and kept herself up so late despite her studies. And he knew it couldn't have been easy to watch his kids that day.

"Well, I'm really grateful that you came to watch my kids today, made my day a little less stressful. For that, I'll give you a raise, and if you want, you can keep the job." He offered, voice a bit gruff. He clears his throat, looking up to see Hazel beaming.

"Th-Thank you sir," She bows to show her gratitude, the full ninety degrees. She was quite shocked by his generosity to say the least. Jimin quite enjoyed the way the corners of her eyes creased when she grinned, flashing pearly whites. Even in the muteness of the kitchen he could see their white fluorescence. "What time should I be here in the mornings?"

"Well, I usually leave around ten, but the boys are up at least an hour before then-"

"Is seven okay?" She wondered. Jimin blinks, surprised by her will to be present so early. Suan never came that early.

"Uh- yeah, um.... sure. If you want. Seven's fine." Aish, she must be a morning person. Her willingness reminded him of Hoseok hyung.

She checks her watch, "I guess I should get going then, I don't want to be late tomorrow."

Jimin nods his head, watching her turn and grab her bag from the couch. She took the time to fluff the pillows she'd lied on, as well. She continued to impress him.

"Wait, wait, it's quite late already, Hazel. Won't you stay the night?" Jimin offered, grabbing her wrist to stop her in her tracks, he was convinced that she'd otherwise not listen to his concern.

"I'm sure you're tired and it would be easier for you to stay here."

She shrugs her shoulder bag on, politely shaking her head, "No thank you, Mr. Park. I should really head home. Thank you for the offer, I appreciate your consideration." She bows again, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Jimin sighs, following her out the house, stopping on his front steps, watching her car pull out of the cobblestone driveway. He sighs inwardly, checking to see if the house key is still under the mat. He rubs his face, locking the door and heading upstairs to check on his kids and head to bed.

🌺🌺🌺

Jimin groaned at the sound of rapping at the front door, only to turn his head and see that it was seven o'clock sharp, once again. He wasn't sure why, but a lazy smile began to make his face. He tugged on pants and stepped into slippers, rubbing his puffy face as he trudges through the house. He unlocks the door, squinting at the vibrant rays of the sunlight.

Hazel's friendly smile falters when she sees his state. "Oh, did I wake you? Please forgive me, sir, I-"

Jimin waves his hand dismissively, "Don't worry," his voice was quite husky. He clears his throat, "I'll give you a copy of the key when I get back home today." He promised, knowing he should have given her one earlier, he was so drowsy the night prior that it slipped his mind.

He turns slowly, Hazel following him in. "In case you're wondering, the boys are still asleep..." he trailed off as she headed for the direction of the kitchen and playroom. He rubbed his eyes to make sure she was really doing what he thought.

Hazel was gathering ingredients and kitchenware for what looked like a Western style breakfast. He stands there in astonishment, unable to comprehend how much she was going out of her way. Suan would always cook when the boys got up, and Minseon has shared his distaste for her food on a few occasions. He wonders if Hazel will be any better, but his eldest was a picky eater.

"...Mr. Park?" Hazel called, as if she'd been saying his name a few times. Jimin realizes his mouth was agape and closed his jaw shut.

"I was asking if the boys have any allergies? Or favorite meals in particular?"

Suan would never care to ask such a question, "The boys will eat just about anything that- he cut himself off at the sight of her heart-stopping smile.

"Great, I'll be cooking until it's time to get the boys up. Would you like anything, sir?"

"That'll be fine, Hazel, thank you." He murmured, still a little stunned. He liked her preparedness. It was refreshing to see. He trudged back upstairs to get a bit more sleep in, glad he worked late for once because he finally got to catch up on some things.

His alarm blared and Jimin, for once, could hear nothing in the house in the morning. Typically it was Jae crying or Minseon whining to Suan that he wants to play instead of eat his food. However he was glad to not have to wake up with an ear-full. He took his time getting ready for work, and jogged downstairs looking sharp and refreshed.

"Appa!" His boys squealed in unison, for once looking cheery with big messy grins on their faces. Jae had red jam on his face, which Hazel was just starting to wipe away. His bib was quite messy, but his dish was clean. He ate all of Hazel's food.

He heads over and kisses their heads, Jae bouncing excitedly as he reaches up toward his father. "How was breakfast, boys?" Jimin asked with a satisfied grin.

"Noona made us eggs with toast and jelly and juice and it's so yummy, Appa!" Minseon rambled, he must've been very excited because he was already talking ears off so early in the morning. Jimin pulls off Jaemin's bib and bounces his youngest on his hip, looking at Hazel gratefully. "Thanks for feeding them."

"Of course, Mr. Park. If you'd like I could take care of your shopping list for you. I noticed it written on the fridge."

Jimin looks at the note with the items scrawled messily on it, it was miraculous that she was able to read it. He brings Jae to the kitchen, reaching in the cabinet for his medicine.

"Thank you, Hazel, but I'll bring some groceries home after work." She nods, the both of them wondering if they came on too strong.

Jaemin whines when he sees his medicine, starting to push at Jimin's arm and squirm as if his life depended on it. Hazel was starting to clean up already, Minseon insisting he help by gathering all the utensils from his and his brother's dishes.

"Thank you, Minseonie. You're such a great helper." Hazel cooed, though from Jimin's perspective Seonie hadn't done nearly as much as she did. She clears the table ware and asks Minseon to wipe it down as she cleaned the dishes.

Jaemin lets out a cry as Jimin finally wrestled his medicine into his mouth. Hazel stood next to him at his kitchen sink and thoroughly washed the dishes beside of him. She coos at Jae, who reaches for her with both hands.

Jimin watched amazed as she took the baby and bounced him soothingly, rubbing his back. Jae soothed quickly, Jimin didn't think such a thing was possible. Hazel placed the wet dishes into the dishwasher, leading Minseon to the playroom with a sniffling baby on her hip.

Jimin couldn't hide his fond smile, hearing Minseon happily hopping around as he eagerly showed Hazel all his toys yet again. He checks his watch, seeing he had plenty of time to enjoy a cup of coffee before leaving. And perhaps today he would finally get to have it while it's hot.

Before he sips his mug, he pokes his head into the playroom to see Jaemin sat on her lap, Hazel having seemed to convince Minseon to do one of the puzzles. Jimin has been trying for weeks to get him to attempt one, but she seemed to have him intrigued. Even Jaemin looked interested. "Hazel?" He called.

She picked her head up, her fluffy curls that were tied back seeming to move with her. "Yes sir?"

"Would you like some coffee, since you're up pretty early?"

"Oh no, that's okay, Mr. Park. I have these two to keep me on my feet. But I do appreciate the offer-"

"Noona! It's not working!" Minseon whined, interrupting her. Before Jimin could scold his son, since he knew better than to shout and especially not to interrupt people while they were talking, Hazel, once again, beat him to it. She gently rubs the boy's head.

"You'll get it eventually, Minseonie. No use getting frustrated. The other piece is in there somewhere." She assured gently, not seeming to mind how the baby in her lap was trying to gnaw on the end of her shirt.

Jimin hardly realized how long he'd been watching them bond until his watch beeped. He downed his coffee and grabbed Jaemin's pacifier so he could stop gumming on Hazel's shirt. Jimin sighed when he saw how much the infant had stretched it, poking the rubber end into his son's mouth. "I've got to go, be good for Noona, boys."

Minseon beamed up at him, "Bye-bye, Appa!" It was refreshing to not see him pout knowing that Jimin was leaving. He kisses both their heads and bids Hazel goodbye before walking out the door. For once in a long time, he felt certain that his kids would be absolutely fine.

🌺I'm thinking about some more ideas for these excerpts, let me know if you'd like to see more.

[koutarouthighs]

『 strawberries & wicker baskets 』

S U M M A R Y ― sunny afternoons call for a basket filled to the brim with fruits and other treats, your lover across the blanket, sighing as they take in the sight of you with your skin glittering under the sun.

post type ➺ headcanons fandom  ➺ haikyuu!! characters  ➺ kuroo ⧾ akaashi ⧾ sugawara  genre➺ fluff tags/warnings ➺ established relationship ; alcohol mention ;  word count ➺ 1.9k+ request ➺ [YES/NO]     ↳ request status: *.·:·.✧ O P E N ✧.·:·.*

⤭ kuroo enjoys getting outside now and again because his job can be very much a shut-in, indoor-only occupation. whether he’s going from arena to arena, or spending days behind a desk answering emails, he is stuck inside much more than he’s allowed outside. ⤭ he’ll set up the entire thing with no prompting. kuroo is a big dork, after all, and he loves to surprise you with some romantic gesture, such as an intricate picnic packed safely away in a large brown, woven basket, the neck of a bottle of wine peeking out.  ⤭ depending on how stressed you both are, kuroo will sometimes have it be a surprise. he’ll call your boss, get you the afternoon or weekend off of work, and manage to corral you into heading to the park or the beach or the lake with him. ⤭ kuroo is so ecstatic to get you out on the green with him that he forgets napkins and you end up having to use the checkered blanket to wipe off your fingers after tetsurou has offered to suck the strawberry sugar off your digits.  ⤭ the warmth cascading down from the rays of sunlight filtering through the trees is nothing in comparison to the absolute beaming light from kuroo’s smile as he looks down at you, where you lay on the blanket. there is not a moment where you are not completely, utterly loved in the presence of kuroo tetsurou. 

more below the cut ↴

your pinkies are linked as you stroll through the sand, heels dug into the beach when you find your perfect spot. kuroo is yanked by your fingers circling his wrist, eyes widening a hair as he swivels to turn and look at you, “here? this is the spot?”

you don’t even have to nod, he already knows your answer. you wouldn’t have stopped him otherwise. so he works at getting the blanket laid out perfectly so there aren’t any annoying granules of sand getting in your food or underneath your clothes. he strategically lays out your shoes, one on each corner, so the blanket won’t go flying at the first signs of blustering winds.

the beach brings serenity and clarity, both of which you disturb with loud laughter and busied hands. your giggles are interrupted by wine-drunken kisses, warm and wet and reminding you much of the ocean. the spray from the waves salts your hair and your face, but you don’t mind. not when you get to spend these careless moments with your lover. 

“i’ve missed you,” he sighs, framing your cheek with a large palm, encompassing your skin with a near unbearable heat. skin flushed, you lean into his touch, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks as you hum, “i’ve missed you more.”

“there you go again,” he near growls, playfully smirking up at you as he rolls his hips to pin you down, knees on either side of your body so he can hover over you, blocking the sun like the clouds in the sky. “always have to one up me, baby, can’t you ever let me win?”

you reach up to squeeze his cheeks in your grip, playing with the looser skin near the center of his face, smushing his lips together playfully. you shake your head, rolling your eyes dramatically, “if i stop challenging you, you’ll get bored of me.”

his words are garbled thanks to your pressured palms, but he manages to husk out regardless: “i’d never get bored of you.”

⤭ you are the one to set up the picnic, knowing that akaashi will spend all day and all night working on his publishing duties. sometimes it is up to you to drag him out of the work-filled abyss that blackens his days and elongates his nights. ⤭ he has dark circles under his eyes and he’s always sleeping in on the weekends when he gets a chance, so you spend the time in the morning one saturday packaging up a wonderful feast. fruits, sandwiches, champagne, all tucked away into a sweet little basket that you can barely hold up on your own. ⤭ akaashi wakes up and you’ve already got his pot of coffee put together, but you hold his cup hostage when he reaches out for it. his brow wrinkles and his eyes narrow, but all you can do is chuckle when you tell him to get ready, that the two of you are going out.  ⤭ once he’s had two cups of coffee and a shower, akaashi does not hesitate to stroll down the sidewalk with you, the basket in one hand and your palms linked in the other. he’s warm, inviting, and he’s always playing with the soft skin of your hand with his thumb, calloused pad drifting back and forth. ⤭ it’s nice for him to be able to take some time away from manuscripts and plotlines, to be able to enjoy the time alone with you. he’s a people watcher, and together you make up funny stories for all of the families and couples making their way through the park. after you’ve eaten, when you’re laying back and staring up at the clouds, he’ll tuck you under his arm and point out the shapes that remind him of anything significant.

﹢

“don’t you think that one looks like an owl,” he points to a cloud to the left, drifting through the air and dissipating more with each passing second. you laugh, pressing your cheek against his collarbone as your arm winds around his waist, “you think everything looks like an owl, kei. i think you miss bokuto.”

akaashi scoffs, resting his palm back against your shoulders to anchor you to him, “all of fukurodani remind me of owls, sweetheart, not just koutarou.”

“it’s the writer in you,” you murmur, tilting your head up to kiss his jaw nearest his ear, “always making an analogy out of something.”

he leans down, narrowing the space between your faces, and runs his nose against your cheek, “you have too much faith in me, darling.” you nip at the thin skin of his jaw, hitching your knee up slightly to rest on his thigh, the thick of it rippling at the sudden movement, “that would imply i believe without seeing, keiji. i’ve seen plenty of your talents.”

even though akaashi is not one for public displays of affection, he finds in this moment alone with you in the middle of a meadow, he is insatiable. his mouth finds yours and you taste of peaches and champagne, sweet but bitter, and he falls a little more in love with you then.

“i love you too,” you whisper, reading his mind and seeping into his bones with your burning touch, eyelids flittering, unwilling to open and break apart the serenity of your kiss.

the bow of your lips meet his and he swears your handprint is seared into his heart, strings tied tightly and begging for you to play him like a fiddle. 

⤭ sugawara has picnics with his kindergarteners, he likes to take them outside for lunch at least once a month, if not more frequently. you’ve brought him his lunch to school at least once or twice and caught him mid teddy bear picnic, his bento box in your hand and a grin on your lips as he helps the youngest student tuck her napkin cloth into the front of her shirt. ⤭ it gives you the idea to create a picnic scenario of your own, only instead of on the playground underneath the shade tree, it is in the comfort of your own backyard as the sun goes down. ⤭ koushi is surprised to find you rushing in from the screen door that leads to the backyard when he comes home one evening, a late night after working on a new set of curriculum. he chuckles as he toes off his work shoes and finds the more comfortable house slippers to slide his feet into. ⤭ you grab him by the hand, eager to show him your masterpiece. he’s always been so kind and understanding, so easily excited by your innocence and wonder at the world. it reminds him of the wide eyes of his students, begging to soak in every word he speaks until they are gorging with information. ⤭ the way you bob on the balls of your feet makes him chuckle, his knuckles finding yours so he can slot your fingers together to the base. he squeezes before he turns his attention to the scene you’ve set before him.

﹢

“wow, love, this is-” his voice sticks in his throat, emotion overwhelming him after a long day at work, body begging to come home to you. you pull yourself closer to him, like a tether, a kite desperately trying to keep to it’s owner.

there is a spread near the firepit, a warm blanket laid flat with a plethora of food and drinks scattered across the entirety of it. he reaches around your shoulders to tug you into his chest, nose finding the crown of your head to bury his face into you, breathing in your familiarity. he realizes for what would feel like the infinite time that he is blessed with your saccharine presence, something he swears he’ll never take for granted. 

“d-do you like it?”

your voice comes timid, bashful. sugawara is quick to admonish you for your insecurities, tilting your chin up with the gentle tug of his thumb and index finger, and capturing your wavering tongue with his soft mouth. 

even when he peels away, you chase him, caring predator and cunning prey. your fingers wrap around the front of his shirt, begging him closer with a quiet touch. he smiles at your enthusiasm, relishing in the moment where you forget about everything else going on in the world but him.

sugawara places another kiss to your upper lip, gently guiding you to the blanket, “i love it, darling. of course i do. i’d love anything you do.”

you know he is not lying, not by the conviction in his tone and the searching in his touch. you lower yourselves to a crossed-leg position, close enough that your knees brush, and you begin to dig into every container set before you. even though you know what is splayed out, it is still a mystery as he unlocks the tops of the tupperware containers to display the treasures inside.

“i love you, kou,” you whisper after a glass too many of wine, but the words are honest all the same, regardless of the alcohol they’re tainted with. you grin lazily up at him, palm finding his pectoral as you seek his heat, “i hope you know how much i love you.”

sugawara brushes his fingers against your forehead, pushing away the hair that obscures your vision so he can see you in all of your glory, “only if you promise to know how much i love you.”

a giggle, like a champagne bubble rising to the surface only to pop when it gets too close to the sun, breaks the seam of your lips and you tuck your head underneath his chin to hide. sugawara draws you close, circling an arm around your waist until you are molded to his side, as if there were never even two people present at all. one soul inhabiting two bodies, stitched together by time and trials alike.

“i guess,” he murmurs against your temple, pressing a warm kiss there before turning his head to watch the sunset, “that just means we’ll have to spend the rest of our lives trying to prove it.”

[cowboyshit]

PART THREE OF ?

Previously: one, two Ship: Hangman Adam Page x Female OC (Hazel Baker) x Matt Jackson Summary: Rodeo/Cowboy AU - And just like that, fate has brought Hazel back to none other than Adam Page. Though last time they’d crossed paths he’d seemed eager to be rid of her company, Adam confesses the truth in his feelings for her and admits that he hasn’t forgotten her this entire time they’ve been apart. But now Hazel has serious feelings for Adam’s close friend, Matt... yet even she can’t deny that she has an indescribable connection with Adam that just can’t be ignored. Rating: explicit Length: 30,074 words Warnings: unprotected sex x2, angst, characters being idiots and not communicating their feelings properly... oh also probably some gratuitous horse knowledge no one cares about. you know, the usual.

author’s note: I wanted to get out this next part out as a holiday gift for all you amazing people who have been so encouraging about this series. I honestly can’t tell you how much your comments mean to me and how much pride and joy I feel at every little like or reblog or interaction with this fic series. At the start of 2020 I told myself this would be the year I finally wrote something that got to 50k words. I am proud to say with this installment Starlight is currently at 68k words, surpassing my goal. Hell, maybe it’s taken me an entire year to write it, but still, I did it! Now my next goal for 2021? Actually finish a story for once - this story. I have the outline planned and I can’t begin to explain to all of you how much your support and encouragement keeps me going to get the rest of this story out there. Anyways! Long note out of the way, I just want to sincerely thank you guys for your support of this fic series. It really means the world to me. Oh also - yeah... things are about to get VERY messy in this fic.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her.

Four months. Sixteen weeks. After barely an evening of talking, if even. After inches away from a kiss, never quite knowing what that touch would have felt like. Something told him – kept telling him – it would have been life-changing. Some nights he was grateful he didn’t know; some nights it tormented his sleep, left him kicking and twisting as he turned this way and that, grunting in irritation as he wished sleep would be a reprieve from her memory.

Prone to worrying, there were times he wondered if he was building her up into something she wasn’t. Maybe she wasn’t as pretty as he remembered her being. A soft, round face; brown eyes that he could almost guarantee must be covered by a film of gold in the sunlight; silky, dark brown hair that made his fingers itch like mad to curl around and comb through; a body that begged for his palms to frame the natural pinch of her hips; a smile that made him catch his breath, that made him feel like the leading man in one of those old romance movies his mama used to watch.

No, she was beautiful, though it wasn’t her physical beauty that clung her to his memory. It was that feeling of being with someone he suddenly wasn’t afraid to talk with, who he willingly found himself opening up to before he remembered he hated opening up to people. The way he couldn’t stop smiling every time their eyes met, as though their souls shared a secret.

Maybe she would have stopped haunting him, were it not nearly every weekend he heard her name. He should have been prepared for the consequence of bowing out to Matt’s interest in her, but he wasn’t. Couldn’t be. Nothing like this had ever happened to him. As Matt talked about her at the rodeos with his brother, with Kenny, it was nothing pointed or directed specifically at Adam. If anything, it seemed Matt forgot altogether there’d been an energy between Hazel and Adam, and Nick seemed to never broach the subject of how close Adam had been with her when he found them.

But sometimes when Matt laughed on the phone with her after a run, and Adam’s fingers tightened on whatever he was holding, Nick would look at him and it almost seemed sympathetic. Maybe Adam was projecting. Maybe he just wanted someone to know the pain he was quietly suffering, not understanding how to see himself through it, adding to the pile of other anxieties and circling thoughts that spun around and around inside his head every day. At any rate, Nick would always side with his brother, time and time again. So why would he feel bad for Adam?

It’ll go away eventually. That’s what he kept telling himself. You’re just lonely. It’d been awhile. He kept to himself, but even he was only human, even he felt an aching need for companionship here and again, however temporary. Go to a bar, get drunk, find someone to hook-up with. You’ll forget about her soon. It would work, but only for a night, and only because he drank enough to forget everything but his name. Sometimes he even forgot that. He’d be left with the lingering feeling of thinking he was some sort of ass, going out and using another person for his personal vice like they were something disposable for him and had no thoughts or feelings of their own. Everyone said he was such a good person, but how could he be when he did things like that?

It’ll go away…

It’ll go away…

It’ll go away…

Then, like magic, there she was. Standing not but four feet in front of him. Breathing the same air as him.

And God, her brown eyes did look softly glittered in gold as the sun hit them. He sucked in a sharp breath and blinked, breaking through the surface from dream into reality.

“Hi,” she said, and her voice was soft. Her eyes danced between his and he would have given anything to know what she was thinking. He wanted to reach out, put his hands on hers and pull her in toward him so he could cover her lips with his and finally know what she tasted like.

“Hello,” he said.

Something shifted in his peripherals and hit him like a splash of cold water. He jerked and glanced to his left, seeing a woman he didn’t recognize watching them with a peculiar expression across her face.

It seemed Hazel did the same.

“Oh!” She gasped, startled, “Adam, this is my friend, Rosie.”

Rosie’s red-painted lips spread into a smile and there seemed a light in her eyes as she walked forward to accept his handshake. “The Adam?” She asked, with a tone that clearly indicated she’d heard about him before. Clearly from Hazel.

 “Uh, I guess that must be me? Adam Page.” He supplied with a small, awkward laugh and hoped his cheeks weren’t too hot. “Rosie, it’s a pleasure.” He glanced from Rosie to Hazel before he’d even slipped his fingers from their cordial handshake. She’d talked about him. What had she said?

Probably that he was an ass, considering their last interaction together.

Somewhere among his racing thoughts he found the manners he’d been raised with. “My friend Adam is over by the arena, if you want to wait with him while I take Hazel to look at the horses and see which one she wants to ride first.” He didn’t need to separate them; Rosie could easily come along with Hazel too.

But he wanted – no, needed – to talk to Hazel alone.

“Your friend's name is Adam too?” Hazel asked, and he heard a brief note of amusement in her tone. “Doesn’t that get a little confusing?”

“Sometimes,” he laughed. “If it makes it easier, you can call him ‘Hey asshole’ too, he’ll probably answer to it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rosie said as he directed her down the path toward the arena, where they’d meet in a moment and then, finally, he and Hazel were alone. He glanced down at her profile and felt the knot in his stomach tighten. He swallowed thick, Adam’s apple bobbing, and cleared his throat a little weakly.

“The horses are this way,” he said, voice trailing off. It clearly wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he was struggling with where to even begin. Maybe he would sort himself out on the walk through the barn to where he’d left the first prospect in crossties. Hazel fell in step beside him and he watched her get distracted taking his property in. Did she like it? He looked around where her eyes were falling and wondered what she was noticing. He loved his home; it was the sanctuary he had built for himself and the one place he felt completely and totally in control.

“I saw Dolly out in the front pasture,” she said, glancing up at him and nearly making him stumble over his boots.

“Yeah! I have her out grazing today, letting her be a little lazy.” He smiled and Hazel smiled too. “Actually,” he started, voice bouncing around with a soft echo as they stepped inside his fourteen-stall main barn. “The first mare you’re going to look at is Dolly’s full-blooded younger sister. She’s about four years younger than Dolly; just turned four this last April.”

“Oh! I can’t wait to see her.” She said, and her voice sounded honest enough that it warmed him somewhere, seeing how taken she was with Dolly. “Your barn is beautiful,” she sighed as they passed the third stall. He’d noticed she’d been peeking in curiously through the black-iron bars to each one they passed to look at the horse inside if there was one.

“Thank you,” he said, and felt himself straighten his posture a little proudly. “I sank most of my first- and second-year’s earnings into getting this whole place redone. Tore down the old barn, paid to have this one constructed. Did the same to the hay barn and the mare hotel and boarding barn out back. Put in a new sprinkler system for the pastures, repaired the fencing, leveled out the arena and trucked in a good dirt-sand blend for it…” He realized he was rambling and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you… probably don’t care about any of that.”

“No!” She said, quickly, and her smile seemed a little shy. “I mean, yes. I do, actually. I’m kind of a nerd for all of this stuff.” She ducked her head and laughed. “When I couldn’t physically be around horses anymore, I found other ways to try and be involved with them, which mainly meant playing online games where you owned virtual horses and virtual stables.”

A grin cracked over his mouth. “Wow, you really are a horse geek, huh?”

Her smile was a full-on beam of sunshine, it was so bright and struck him so warmly. “Shut up,” she said, but it was chased by a laugh. He found himself laughing too.

There were only a few steps left until they would reach the big, open, padded space with a drain and hose hook-up where he’d secured the little gold mare in crossties as he groomed her this morning in preparation. A few more steps until they’d talk about the horse, about riding, he’d see if she wanted to tack up and ride her around the arena before he pointed out the other two and checked if she wanted to ride them, too.

Only a few steps before he may lose his chance to say all those things he wanted – no, needed – to say.

“Hey,” he started, stopping suddenly in his tracks. She stopped a pace later, turning around and frowning up at him. “Look, I know this might not be necessary but, I need to apologize to you.” Those words were hard to get out. They felt thick like molasses on his tongue, but he pushed through anyways. He saw her confusion deepen and explained. “I was an ass to you last time we talked and there was no reason for it.”

“Oh,” she breathed, and suddenly he knew she was there in that place with him. No longer were they tiptoeing around the past, he’d been brave enough to force them to look right at it, because he couldn’t take not addressing it. 

“Hey, look, it’s alright.” She was being nice.

“No, it’s not.” He said, firmly. “I uh… look, I can be a piece of shit sometimes - that’s not an excuse or anything - but the way I talked to you…” He felt like he was fumbling. How was he supposed to apologize without telling her why it was so important that he did? That he couldn’t live another day knowing that was her last impression of him?

He knew she was Matt’s girl… but Matt never had problems getting girls, did he? Couldn’t Adam have this one?

He forced himself to meet her eyes when his nerves wanted him to look anywhere else and the next thing he knew, he was talking and saying things he never would have thought himself brave enough to say.

“I like you, Hazel. I liked you from the minute I saw you talking to Dolly. I liked you so much it scared me. Hell, scares me, even. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, not once. I know that’s crazy to say, we barely know each other, but it’s been runnin’ me in circles and I kept telling myself if fate ever put me back in front of you with the chance to say it, I couldn’t let the moment go. I’m sorry I was such a dick. Matt…” He trailed off.

How was he supposed to explain the man who was one of his closest friends, damn near a brother, was also inadvertently a manufacturer of his personal insecurities? That he knew every flex of Matt’s ego – be it winning another championship or getting the girls at the rodeo to fawn over him – wasn’t a direct attack against his worth, but it still stung like it was.

“Look,” He sucked in a breath and shook his head, “my point is that I really like you, and that sort of scared me, and I got in my head over everything when you and Matt started talking and I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair.”

She was staring at him. He wasn’t sure if it was for a few seconds or three hours, it felt like it must’ve been an eternity. He noticed every change in her expression, the way her brows dipped in and her eyes seemed to get bigger, or how her full, pretty lips pressed together and she seemed to worry at the inner corner of the bottom one. Those lips...

Then he was leaning. Forgetting himself. Forgetting she was Matt’s girl, closing the space between them, and finally… God, finally… putting his mouth on hers.

 **********

He was kissing her.

Hazels eyelids fluttered closed, mouth yielding to his. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as she did, and then suddenly their touch was changing. His wide, warm palms found her shoulders and pushed her back until she was pressed against the wood paneling, their kiss never breaking.

A small, needy noise crawled out of her throat, suffocated in their mouths. He must have heard it, though, for how he turned his head and kissed her harder, one hand sliding away from her arm and cupping her breast over her shirt and bra. He squeezed, running his thumb back and forth and making her ache for his touch on her bare body. The clothes between them were suddenly an absolute nuisance; she wanted to feel the tingles spread from every skin-on-skin touch.

He finally broke away from her mouth only to attack her neck with just as much pent up passion, the little coarse blond hairs of his close-shaved beard scratching her skin. Hazel tipped her head back and looked up at the rafters, head spinning with delirious delight. His knee pressed between her legs and they fell apart, easily. He crowded in closer and rubbed what was quickly growing hard and long in his jeans against her thigh.

“Adam,” she groaned, fingers reaching for the hair tie he had securing his curls in a bun, undoing it, burying in to shake the curls loose and holding him against her skin. She encouraged his tasting, fingers curling around the textured strands of his honey blond hair. His tongue swept down the line of the v-neck collar of her soft cotton tee, teeth nipping at her soft, supple cleavage.

Warmth as he slipped his fingers under her shirt, nearly making her jump at the sensation of his calloused fingertips brushing up her bare skin. Those fingers wiggled and pressed greedily beneath the elastic stretch of her bra and he groaned against her skin as his palm fondled her breast, her nipple hardening against his touch as he squeezed. The sound vibrated out of him, his body was so tight, so tense pressed up against her.

She was the one who found sense first, and she wanted to damn herself for it.

“Adam,” she panted, eyes opening fully on the fact that they were in the hall of his barn, his hand up her shirt and his mouth on her skin, his bulge pressed and rubbing her thigh. He didn’t hear her, tongue sweeping over the dip of her clavicle. “Adam, wait,” she said, fingers curling a little tighter in his curls and tugging back to regrettably pull his mouth from her skin.

He blinked passion-fogged eyes at her, a man caught in a trance, then seemed all at once to realize their precarious position. 

“Matt.” He exhaled in a heavy, almost angry breath.

“What?” she blinked. 

“Matt.” He said again, and the look in his dark green-blue eyes seemed to harden.

Fuck, right, Matt. One of his close friends. Her… whatever he was to her. Hazel licked her lips and tasted Adam.

“No,” she said, even knowing that probably should have been more than enough of a reason for them to stop. “Rosie and your friend,” she said, “what if they come looking for us?”

He blinked and that same waking-to-reality look that she’d had crossed his face. She slid her fingers out of his hair. “Damnit,” he muttered the curse under his breath and slipped his palm from her skin, out of her shirt, and she felt so much colder without his touch. He peeled himself away from her, but stood close, chin dipped to that broad chest and eyes full of her.

Kissing him was like… being caught in a whirlwind. Her eyes fell to his mouth and it took everything in her not to tell him fuck it, be quick.

“We’re not dating,” she blurted out to distract herself from how badly she wanted him to turn her around, tug her pants down and have her up against the stall wall.

He frowned. “Uh…”

“Not you and me,” she blinked and refocused on his eyes. “Matt. I’m not dating Matt.”

“Oh,” he said, and she couldn’t infer anything from his tone or expression, so she found herself talking more.

“We’re going to figure things out at the end of the rodeo season.”

He made a noise in his throat to signify he understood and drug his boot a heavy step away from her.

“Adam, I…” she wanted to be as open and vulnerable as he’d been. She wanted to tell him she hadn’t stopped thinking about him, that she watched live streams of his rides and cheered for him. She wanted to tell him that she had never met anyone who affected her the way he did, and she wasn’t sure what to think of that. But things were complicated, and they’d left their friends alone long enough. 

Hazel drew in a breath and shook her head, pushing from the stall wall he’d had her up against and pulling her shirt to set it right. “We should get to the horses.” She chickened out.

“Right,” he agreed, bending to pick up the hair tie she’d dropped, and she wished he wasn’t so difficult to read. What was going on in that head of his? From the way he’d treated her the last time they saw one another she’d have never imagined he felt the way he’d confessed to her. His fingers raked his hair back up and she tried not to pay attention to the shapely muscles in his arms. He caught her eyes and a sheepish grin curled the corners of his lips, staying until his hands had dropped and he nodded ahead.

“Hazel, I’d like to introduce you to Daisy,” he said as they stepped where the walls opened, and a pretty little golden mare was standing patiently in crossties. She perked her ears as they came around and lifted her head, watching them with curious, deep brown eyes.

“Adam, she’s beautiful,” Hazel’s breath hitched as she moved toward her, stretching out her hand so the mare could brush her velvet, whiskered lips over it and inhale her scent. She had a broken white blaze on her face, giving her the appearance of both a star and a blaze, and her coat was slightly darker than her older sister’s. She had no white on her legs like Dolly did and was just a little bit smaller.

“I’m glad you think so,” he said warmly. “I’ve never put Daisy on the barrels, but I think she has the right build for it.”

Hazel nodded, slipping beneath one of the leads so she could run her hand along the mare’s neck, over her wither and down her back. “She has a short back, which is good.” Hazel swept her palm down the mare’s belly and along her underside. “And a long undercarriage, which means she’ll have a wide stretch when she pulls away.” She ran her hand up down her hindquarters and felt how solid and stacked with muscle they were. There was a lot of power in this mare.  “I could definitely see her on the barrels if she decides she has the attitude for them.”

“Yeah?” He seemed just as excited as she was, and when she looked over at him, she saw he was smiling. For a few drawn out seconds they smiled at one another before he cleared his throat and blinked. “Let me go grab some tack and we’ll get her saddled so you can try her out.”

“Okay,” Hazel said, smiling and turning back to the mare as he left for the tack room. Once he was out of her line of sight, she exhaled low, working through the nerves that were storming through her. She lifted her hand and placed her palm on Daisy’s neck. The mare blew a soft breath through her nose and flicked an ear back, pointing it at Hazel. It made Hazel smile, like Daisy was already ready to listen to whatever Hazel needed to talk about.

“You’re a pretty girl,” Hazel murmured and curled her fingers, gently scratching the mare’s neck. She worked her way down to the top of her wither and Daisy stretched her neck out, clearly enjoying the rub. Hazel laughed gently and glanced as Adam came back with a saddle over one arm and the bridle and bit hanging off the horn.

“You two seem to be getting on,” he said with a grin, setting the saddle down and grabbing the bridle, stepping toward Daisy’s head.

“Here,” she offered, “Let me.” She stepped forward to take the bridle, slipping the headstall over Daisy’s ears before unclipping the leads from the halter she was wearing and unbuckling its clasp, slipping it off her face so it could be replaced with the bridle. As she gently offered the bit against the mare’s lips, Adam hefted the saddle and pad up and walked it around to the mare’s other side, swinging it over her back.

“She takes her tack politely,” Hazel commented as Daisy let her slip the bit into her mouth without complaint.

“She’s a well-behaved little lady,” Adam said, pulling the cinch on the saddle and buckling it up. “Especially for a young mare. She might’ve been the easiest horse I’ve ever trained. She has a sound mind, just like her sister.”

With Hazel holding the reins they started walking out of the barn, toward the arena. She glanced over at Adam and smiled when she saw he was looking at her. She looked away, biting into her grin to try and keep it from spreading. Her head was spinning with everything he’d told her; with the taste of him still on her lips; with her body aching, remembering how nice his touch had felt.

When they were out of the stable, she put her boot in the stirrup and swung her leg over, settling in the saddle. He helped her adjust the stirrups to the right length and tilted his head up to look at her, his palm resting on Daisy’s shoulder. The late afternoon sun glittered across his face and shone in his eyes. They looked greener today than blue, pale and soft, like the grass in a meadow, early morning with the fog crawling gently over it.

Hazel gathered the reins in her hands and gave a soft click under her tongue, squeezing her knees and getting Daisy to walk. Adam fell in place, walking beside them as they rounded the bend in the path that led out to a large arena. She could see Rosie standing with a man toward the end of the arena. That must’ve been Adam’s friend. He was lean, with brown hair that rested at shoulder-length, a black cowboy hat tipped back on the top of his head while he’d talked with her. He was smiling as he gestured with his hands, clearly telling Rosie some story, and she could hear Rosie’s sweet giggles from where they stood. They seemed to be enjoying one another’s company.

Adam put a boot up on the bottom panel of the arena fence and leaned his forearms on the top. He nodded to the inside of the arena. “Go ahead, see how you two get on.”

Hazel smiled and added a little more pressure with her knees, asking for a trot. Daisy obliged, moving into the bouncy gait as they made their way inside the arena. Everything slipped away as Hazel started to ride. She focused on the way the horse responded to her, heart lifting at how easy and eager Daisy seemed to take commands despite them not knowing one another. A small pull on the reins and weight added to her other side had the mare switching leads and leaning in where requested, which was a good sign that she’d be easy to train to curl around a barrel. Hazel squeezed her knees again and clicked her tongue, bringing the little mare up to a lope and then to a gallop. They circled around the wide arena three times, and Hazel felt like Daisy could have kept going. By the time she sat her weight back in the saddle and pulled up the reins she was grinning ear to ear.

“You two look good out there,” Adam called out from where he stood. Rosie and his friend, the other Adam, had made their way down the fence line to join him as she rode.

Hazel grinned as she gently rubbed Daisy’s neck, a little warm to the touch. She got the mare walking again to help cool her down. “She responds amazingly.”

 “I’ve never had too much of a problem on her,” Adam remarked from where he was leaning. “Think she’ll do alright on barrels?”

Hazel didn’t even have to think before she nodded and said, “Yeah! She’s quick, and when I asked her to change lead, she did it with ease.” Hazel pulled the reins and stopped her near the fence line where everyone was standing. “She’s small, and fast. I wasn’t even pushing her as hard as I could. I could tell she had a little more give in her.” Hazel glanced over at Rosie. “What do you think of her, Rosie?”

“She’s beautiful,” Rosie said, reaching out to gently scratch the little mare’s forehead. “What do you think of her?”

Hazel looked at the three expectant faces looking up at her and grinned. “Honestly? I think I’m in love with her.” Her eyes slid to Adam’s and he smiled so bright and open she felt like her heart skipped in her chest.

“You sure you don’t want to try out the other two?”

“You tell me,” she said, shifting in the saddle as the leather gently creaked. She let Daisy have her head, reins going slack as she dropped her arms.

“Gunner has a bit of a stubborn streak and will fight you for fun until you get him to mind his manners. I’m sure he’d make a fast little barrel horse and probably love doing it, but he isn’t going to mind you as easily as she does.” He reached over the fence and fondly patted Daisy’s neck, fingers ruffling her cream-white mane. “The other one I had thought for you to try is Cat. He’s a bit more docile than Gunner, but he’s young and doesn’t have as much experience under the saddle. I barely started him a few months ago. Out of the three, I think you’re going to like this girl best.”

Hazel nodded, grinning. “I think I agree.” Elation in her chest. “I’d love to buy her.”

Adam’s grin matched hers. “I’d love to sell her to you. Come on, let’s get her cooled down and we’ll figure out getting her a vet check before we transport her to your property.”

She nodded and pressed with her inside knee, pulling the reins wide, guiding Daisy to turn around and walk toward the open entrance of the arena. Hazel couldn’t believe it. The little pretty golden mare she was riding was hers. Or, going to be, once all the paperwork was finalized and so on. Finally, she had a horse again. Tears pricked hot in her eyes and she gave her head a little shake, thankful she was too far from the group for them to see. She blinked them out of her eyes and laughed softly, leaning to rub her palm along Daisy’s neck before giving her a few firm pats. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together, Daisy.” She promised the mare in a whisper, still smiling when she rode around the bend in the path and met up with everyone near the barn.

She pulled her boot from the stirrup and swung her leg over the mare’s back, dismounting with a soft little thud into the dirt below. Pulling the reins over Daisy’s head, she fell in step with Adam as he led them back into the barn. Rosie and the other Adam (Hazel still thought that was amusing) walked along with them, which meant they weren’t going to get a chance to be alone again. Hazel’s eyes darted to Adam’s, they met, and both their lips curled into smiles.

They stopped in the wide hall of the barn; Rosie being shown around by Adam’s friend since she hadn’t seen the inside of it. He seemed happy to introduce her to the horses and she could hear Rosie’s compliments on how beautiful each horse was that they passed. She smiled over at Adam.

“Your friend is sweet.”

“Cole?” Adam snorted, but she could tell it was good humored. “He has y’all fooled.”

She laughed and Adam reached out for the reins, which Hazel handed over. She wasn’t sure if he purposefully moved his hand or not, but his fingers bumped into hers and slid slowly across her skin as she released them. Hazel took a breath and turned to gently give Daisy a few more scratches, grateful for the distraction. Adam let the reins drop, and she was pleasantly surprised to see Daisy simply stood by, not trying to wander off once she had the freedom to do so.

“Is she registered?”

“Yeah, AQHA. The name on her papers is Dun n Daisy Dukes.”

Hazel laughed. “That’s adorable.”

“Thank you, I was pretty proud of myself for that one.” Adam was grinning as he pulled the heavy saddle from her back and set it out of the way, propping it and the saddle blanket up against the nearby stall wall.

“She and Dolly must have some Hollywood Dun It in their bloodlines I’m guessing?”

“They do,” Adam sounded surprised she knew. 

“Remember? I’m a horse geek.” Hazel smiled. “I know the prominent AQHA stallions and I know it’s tradition to register their names with something carrying over from their parents. If Daisy is registered as Dun n Daisy Dukes and Dolly is registered as Lil Dun Dolly, I’d imagine they carried the Hollywood Dun It in their names.”

Adam whistled low, his brows lifting. “Well damn, if you know AQHA studs that well, you’ll be happy to know they’ve got Flit Bar lines on their dam’s side. Fire Water Flit is their great grandsire.”

At that, Hazel’s eyes widened. Fire Water Flit and his sire Flit Bar were two very prominent barrel racing studs. Their offspring had gone on to win a ridiculous amount of barrel racing championships. “Okay, you could have led with that and I probably would have been sold on her.” Their soft laughs joined together as Adam patted Dee’s neck and gathered the reins of the bridle up again, starting to walk her toward her stable.

“How soon do you think the vet check will be?” She asked, then added, “Not that I’m trying to rush you. I’m just excited.”

“Understandable.” He smiled at her. “My vet’s pretty good, I should be able to get her out here this week. Unless you have a vet you would rather I use?”

“No, I trust you.”

“Okay, I’ll text you as soon as I know what day she’s available to come out. Do you have a trailer?”

“I don’t,” Hazel frowned. “I guess I could rent one.”

“Don’t bother,” Adam waved his hand, “I can bring her to you.”

“Are you sure? That’s a six-hour drive.”

“I’d like to see her off to her new home”

Rosie and his friend were making their way back toward them as they put Daisy up in her stall. Adam unclipped the buckles of her bridle and slipped it over her head, stepping out and sliding the door behind him before he latched it shut.

“Okay,” Hazel agreed, and realized almost immediately this meant Adam would be coming to her house. Should she have someone over with her that day? How could she be both excited and terrified with how he made her feel? What would Matt think? Sure, he’d said they weren’t dating, but that didn’t mean her feelings for him vanished into thin air. If the two of them didn’t know one another, it might be a different story, but with Adam and Matt being friends she wasn’t certain that was a sort of drama she should invite into her life.

“We’re all set then. When the vet finds her sound, we’ll discuss a price.”

“Okay!” She grinned and looked through the black iron bars at the cute little gold mare in the stall. “I can’t believe this little beauty might be mine soon. I really do adore her, Adam.”

“I can tell.” There was a warmth in his voice and when she glanced up at him, saw he was watching her, and his eyes matched his tone. “She likes you too.” There was something in his expression that made her breath catch.

Rosie’s giggles drifted near, and when Hazel turned to look, she saw the other pair were doubling back around. Her eyes slipped back to Adam’s just as his did, and it seemed they had an unspoken moment of realizing there was still so much to say, but time had run out. Hazel decided then and there if things worked out and Adam was going to bring Daisy to her, she wouldn’t have anyone at the house. She’d meet him alone.

She felt excited.

She felt guilty.

“Hazel, you gotta give this girl some tune-up on her riding. I think she’s got a cowgirl heart.” Adam’s friend was grinning as the pair came near enough for him to talk. Hazel glanced over at them, seeing up close the blue of his eyes that seemed almost merry with how bright they were, looking down at Rosie. Rosie had a pink blush in her fair cheeks and a wide smile on her cherry-red lipstick painted lips. Hazel had to fight to keep from smiling too obviously. They were adorable, and Rosie was clearly into him.

“I think you might be right.” Hazel agreed with a smile. There was a sudden buzz in her pocket, and she blinked, tugging her phone out and glancing at the screen. The notification banner showed her she’d gotten a text from Matt. 

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

Hey, when do you think you’ll be home tonight?

Hazel started to type out a reply after she’d glanced at the clock and calculated how long they’d be driving and when they might leave here. Adam’s friend took over the conversation as she went quiet, asking Adam about one of his mares and pulling him away from watching her closely.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Not until 10PM or so it looks like. We just put the mare up, so I’ll probably be leaving back home soon. Why???

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

FaceTime? I want to see you when you talk about the horse you saw today. I want to see that smile. ❤️

A fond smile crept across her lips and a sweet ache hit her chest. Their communication had felt off when they talked last weekend when she’d told him about finishing the stable. Since then, they’d texted and even talked, but every time they did, Hazel had felt like there was something lingering in the air between them. Eventually she’d written it off as her paranoia that he’d been upset she’d hired a company to finish the barn without telling him. Once she’d told him she was going to look at a horse, he’d gotten excited for her. Now he wanted to FaceTime so he could see her smile when she talked about the horse she saw.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Yeah, okay! I’ll let you know when I get in. I have to drop Rosie off at home first. Can’t wait to tell you about the mare!

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

I can’t wait to hear all about her. Talk to you later 😘

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Okay 😊 😘

Hazel glanced up from her phone to see everyone talking about the horses. However, when she slid her phone back into her pocket, Adam immediately glanced her way. Her smile felt nervous and she hoped it didn’t look it before she glanced over at Rosie and smiled.

“You driving home tonight?” Adam asked as the conversation slowed to a stop.

“Yeah, which means we should probably get on the road soon.” The slight hint of regret that chased her tone wasn’t forced as she slid her eyes back to his.

“Aww, that’s too bad,” his friend drawled, “I’ve enjoyed the company.” 

Rosie, beside him, blushed.

“Much better than Page’s, that’s for sure.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I don’t see how you couldn’t like my company, Cole. You talk about a hundred miles a minute; I’d be lucky to get a word in edgewise the entire time you’re here.”

“He does talk a lot, doesn’t he?” Rosie said, playfully thoughtful as she squinted up at Cole. Teasing.

He gasped in offense as he looked at her with surprise, and her giggles shortly followed. Hazel was smiling; Adam was too. Their eyes met and their smiles softened. There was no talking over what’d happened between them earlier in the barn. She’d escaped having to tell her feelings.

Hazel knew that wasn’t fair to him, especially after he’d bared his heart so openly to her.

“You drive safe, alright?” Adam said softly, Rosie and his friend were occupied with their teasing and laughter as they headed out of the barn back toward Hazel’s truck. He reached to gently rest his hand on her lower back as they turned to follow their friends out of the barn. His palm fell away and he cleared his throat. 

“Yeah,” she said, trailing off as her steps seemed to drag. His did too.

“I’ll try and get my vet out to look her over soon. When she’s clear we can talk details. I’m really glad you liked her.”

They stopped right outside the barn and turned toward one another. 

“I really do.” She said on an exhale, smile spreading across her face.

“I’m glad you’re riding again, too. Especially barrels; what you’re passionate about.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. Behind her she heard the truck start up and, glancing over her shoulder, saw Rosie in the driver’s seat, window rolled down as she talked to Cole, who was leaning on the truck door and giving a wide, charming, happy grin up at her. Hazel looked forward again, up at Adam. “I’ll… talk to you later?”

“Yeah,” he said, and his gaze dropped to her lips. He took a slight breath and looked back at her eyes. Hazel felt flush. She licked her lips and swallowed against the sudden jump in her pulse. “Goodbye, Hazel. I’m…” his blond brows pinched. “I’m happy it was you today.”

“I’m happy it was you, too.” She said, sotto voce. 

“You better go on before they get suspicious.” He said with a wry smile, nodding toward their friends.

“Yeah, I guess I better… bye Adam.”

“Bye darlin’.” He breathed a regretful sigh, eyes meeting hers. She had a feeling all he’d wanted to do was grab her up against him and kiss her dizzy like they’d done earlier. 

She wanted him to do that too.

Instead, Hazel gave her a little half-wave and turned around to walk to the passenger side of her truck, climbing in the cab and buckling up as Cole nodded and said goodbye to Rosie, stepping back so they could take off. Hazel watched Adam’s figure grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror until they drove too far down the drive to see him. She sighed, shoulders dropping.

“Okay,” Rosie said as they stopped before turning on the main road, “we have six hours, and I have a lot to tell you, but you need to tell me everything about what happened when you and Adam were alone.”

Hazel groaned and pressed her hands over her eyes, dragging them down and blinking at Rosie. “Things just got really fucking complicated, that’s what happened.”

Rosie turned onto the main road to begin their drive and Hazel told her everything that had happened and everything Adam had confessed.

“When he was kissing me, I completely forgot about Matt. It wasn’t until Adam brought him up when we stopped that I suddenly remembered. I feel awful.”

“What are you going to do about Matt?” Rosie asked curiously.

“I don’t know. We’re not actually dating, right? Matt made that pretty clear. He doesn’t want to talk about it until the rodeo season is over in December. So… I’m technically single? But they’re friends. They know each other. Closely!”

“And what happens in December if Matt says he wants to exclusively date you? Or what happens before December if Adam tells you he’d exclusively date you now?”

Hazel swallowed and shook her head slowly. “I honestly don’t know.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again, Hazel. Cause you know if either of those men hurt you, I’ll whoop them.”

Despite the fact Rosie was a sweetheart through and through, Hazel did not doubt her ability to become a tough little firecracker in her defense. It made Hazel laugh as she nodded. “I know you will. That’s why I love you.” The girls shared a smile before Hazel continued. “I know it isn’t the smart thing to do, but I think I’m just going to keep letting the cards fall where they do. I’ll have to tell Matt tonight the mare is Adam’s, and maybe I’ll just tell him what happened.”

“And if he gets upset and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore?”

“Well,” she had a sinking feeling in her gut, “I guess that’s his fault for not wanting to try being with me when I offered. Or my fault for kissing Adam? I don’t know.”

“I’ll leave my phone ringer on when I sleep tonight if you need an emergency best friend conversation.”

“A true friend,” Hazel said fondly. “Which I’m not being, speaking of… you still need to tell me about Mr. Handsome Cowboy you were flirting up a storm with.”

Rosie grinned and even though it was dark in the cab, Hazel swore she could see a little blush in her cheeks.

“Oh, the other Adam?”

“Mhm,” Hazel said, grinning.

“He’s a flirt.” She rolled her eyes. “I saw right through him within five minutes of us talking. But… he’s cute. He got really excited to tell me about bull riding when I told him I’d never watched it. Didn’t make me feel dumb for not knowing, you know?”

“Yeah,” Hazel said, smiling. 

“He asked me for my number.”

“He did?!” 

“Yeah! When he was leanin’ on the truck and you were talking to your Adam.”

“And? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“What? Why?” Hazel sat up and frowned at Rosie.

“He’s pry a womanizer. Doesn’t actually care about me, you know? Just flirts with any girl he sees.”

“He didn’t flirt with me,” Hazel pointed out.

“That’s because any fool with eyes could see the hearts Adam had in his eyes every time he looked at you.”

She flushed at that.

“I don’t know. He was cute but, I definitely felt like that attraction wasn’t as authentic for him as it was for me, you know?”

Hazel hummed under her breath. “I don’t know about that, he looked pretty into you as far as I could see. Hey, maybe you’ll get a chance to see him again in the future, given that I’m apparently seeing Adam again.”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t mind seeing him again. He is really damn cute.”

“He is,” Hazel agreed with a laugh.

They arrived at Rosie’s house first and, after a goodbye and a hug, Hazel climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled her phone out while she was still parked. She yawned and clicked through to the text messages between her and Matt.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Just dropped Rosie off, I’ll be home in about twenty minutes!

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

Sounds good babe.

She smiled and clicked to black the screen out, tossing it gently into the passenger’s seat and pulling the truck out of the driveway. How was she going to tell him about what happened between her and Adam?

“I should just be forward,” she muttered out loud to herself, frowning at the road in front of her. “I should just tell him like, look, Matt, you remember when Adam and I came up to the fire when we first met? I had almost kissed Adam earlier that night and I do have feelings for him. Today he told me he has feelings for me, and we kissed.” She swallowed and exhaled.

“Jesus, I can’t tell him that. Hey, Matt, turns out the horse is Adam’s, you know, one of your super close friends? Also turns out he and I have intense feelings for one another, and we made out and he touched my boob! Okay see ya later bye!”

Hazel choked on a laugh that was followed by a groan and a heavy sigh.

“Hazel, you idiot.” She scolded herself under her breath, turning her truck into her drive. She rolled to a stop and parked, turning the key in the ignition to shut the engine off and sit in the silence of the cab as she glanced at her unlit house.

She’d pick Carson and Callahan up tomorrow from the pet sitter’s, it was too late to get them now. It’d be weird to spend the night completely alone in the house. Hazel swallowed against that feeling and grabbed her bag, climbing out of the truck and locking it behind her as she pulled her house key free and jogged up the porch steps. Hopefully she’d be tired by the time she and Matt got done talking and be able to just go right to sleep. She had traveled for twelve hours and ridden, after all.

Hazel pushed the door open and locked it behind her, tossing the keys onto the catch-all that sat on the little table in the foyer, entering her house and flipping lights on as she walked through. Her purse was discarded on the couch and she tugged her phone from her pocket, tapping a message to Matt as she wandered into her room.

 TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Home! Let me shower really quick. Give me twenty? 😊

She underhand tossed the phone onto her bed and bent to tug her boots off, straightening as she pulled her shirt over her head and went for her bra. A sigh of relief followed unclasping the back-strap and she shrugged out of it as she went for the drawer full of big, soft, comfortable shirts to sleep in. She tugged the lavender one free and opened another drawer to grab a pair of white little sleep-shorts. Holding them in one hand she pulled her jeans and panties off, leaving a trail of discarded clothes as she made for her bathroom.

Hazel showered quick and the warm water felt like a luxury against her muscles that’d likely be sore tomorrow. She shut her mind free of the confusing thoughts circling it and the anxiety of what would happen when she told Matt what’d happened with Adam, or how she was going to broach that topic at all. It was refreshing to dry off and feel clean, too, and she closed her eyes as she towel dried her hair, enjoying it for a moment. 

When she opened her eyes, she could see her reflection looking back at her and shook her head, laughing dryly to herself. “Six months ago, I swore I was never going to date again, now here I am getting caught between two men.” No, that had definitely never been the plan. Hazel rolled her eyes at herself and set the towel aside, grabbing for her pajamas and tugging them on. 

Was it unfair for her to try and casually be with them both, unknowingly, for a moment? If she told Adam she wasn’t ready to be exclusive with him because she still didn’t know whether she and Matt were going to agree to date in December, would he be okay with that? Would he still want to see her, when she told him she’d like to explore their feelings? Could she tell Matt? Was it wrong for her not to include him? If Adam knew and she knew, it wasn’t fair that Matt didn’t know the whole picture, too.

Question upon question were piling up. She shook her head and grabbed her phone, stomach turning as she walked out of her room toward the kitchen for a water. Her phone started to ring just as she got to the fridge. Balancing the phone in one hand she slid to answer the call, smiling as Matt popped up on the screen.

“Hey!” She said.

“There you are,” he said, and grinned. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“It’s been awhile since we’ve FaceTimed,” she agreed, opening a nearby cabinet to grab a glass and get water from the spout on the fridge.

“It has,” he said. “So? How was the horse?”

Hazel laughed, but it was chased by nerves. “Yeah, about that. The ranch was actually-” and right before she could say it was Adam’s, her doorbell rang. “What the hell?” She muttered, setting the water down and looking toward the door.

“Who’s at your house this late?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know.” It was just hitting 11:00PM. “Maybe Rosie left something in my truck.” 

She walked quietly until stopping before the door, pressing up on the tips of her toes to look through the peephole. She gasped at who she saw and wrenched the door open, heartbeat jumping.

“Matt?! What the hell are you doing here?!”

He grinned, ending their FaceTime call as he tucked his phone back into the pocket of his wranglers. “I was in the neighborhood. Come here, I haven’t held you in weeks.” The last time they’d seen one another had been when he’d left the first time. Since then, their talks had been strictly by phone.

Matt pulled her into his arms, and she melted against him, heart sighing to remember what it felt like to have his touch. He was warm against the fall chill at their backs. His thumb pressed gently under her chin and he pushed her face up to look at him while he dipped and slipped his lips across hers. Hazel sighed into the kiss, turning her head to find a better position.

They pulled slowly apart, and she shook her head, still unable to believe he was actually here, on her porch, holding her. “Wait, I thought you had a rodeo you came home from today.”

“I did.” He said and tipped his head toward the inside of her house. “C’mon, let's get off the porch.”

He bent to pick up the straps to a lightly packed black duffel bag and followed her inside. “Right after I put my horse up, I texted Nick asking him to feed for me tonight and in the morning, packed an overnight bag, unhitched my trailer and started the drive up here.”

Hazel closed the door behind her and turned around to face him just as Matt set the duffle bag down and turned toward her. “Why?”

He reached out, either palm sliding warm over her hips. He pulled her in to him, chin to chest as his dark brown eyes softened on her face. “Because I missed you. Because when you were first planning to buy a horse from Bob, I knew his ranch was only a couple hours away from mine, and I was going to show up there and surprise you.” 

“I was going to surprise you!” Hazel said, grinning. “I was going to show up on your porch with an overnight bag after I looked at the horse.” A realization hit and her brows rose as she glanced down at his bag, then back at him. “Hey, you stole my idea.”

Matt laughed and reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Once you weren’t going to Bob’s and were instead going the opposite direction, I realized that meant I didn’t know when I was going to be able to see you next. I didn’t like that, so here I am.”

Hazel laughed behind closed lips and shook her head. “Here you are.”

Matt dipped his head and pushed his lips against hers again. Hazel once again melted into him, and let her body be walked back until she was against the door. Her lips opened for him and his tongue took the invitation, sliding in along hers. The longer they kissed the hungrier they became. Matt’s hand chased up the curve of her hip, up her side and framed her breast. He pinched her nipple over her shirt, softly pulling, making it a hard, needy peak as she gasped into his mouth. He grinned, chuckling before he kissed her again and smoothed his palm over her breast before moving to tease her other nipple in the same way.

She and Matt hadn’t seen one another in weeks, which led to them forgetting about everything and stumbling through the house, stopping to kiss and touch and giggle and moan here and there as they went. Eventually they made it to her room - his shirt was gone, she’d tugged it off down the hallway, and his hair was down and loose around his shoulders - and Matt didn’t let up. He moved with her clear until the back of her knees pressed against the bed, her fingers on his warm, bare chest, running up and then down over his arms. She felt the curve of muscle as he flexed beneath her touch and her lips, against his, lifted into a smile.

He pulled his mouth off hers. “Climb on the bed,” his breath was low, warm against her kiss-swollen lips, his voice rough with need, “And take these clothes off.” His fingers pried at the soft lavender tee she was wearing, tugging pointedly at the hem. With one more urgent kiss against her lips, he finally stepped away, hands falling quickly to the big, shiny buckle on his belt. As she tugged her shirt over her head, he popped the belt open on his jeans and tugged the zipper down quick. His fingers hooked in the denim and he hesitated, just briefly, eyes ravenously black as they fell to her bare breasts. His lips fell apart and she ached for him, for the familiar sweet sting of his beard burn he left after he kissed and sucked at her nipples.

He tugged his jeans down and she wiggled her body atop the sheets, pulling and maneuvering to free herself from her sleep shorts and discarding them without care. He stepped out of his boots and jeans, leaving the pile on the floor as he reached down to take off his socks. He’d undressed in a hurry up until this point, straightening and pinching his fingers in the elastic band of his black boxer-briefs. Hazel’s eyes dropped and saw the thick, defined shape of his hard cock straining against the dark fabric. She wet her lips in anticipation and pushed her heels into the bed, sliding her now-naked body up the sheets and toward the pillows. Matt pulled his boxer-briefs free, cock springing, tip leaking, veins fat and full along its length.

She inhaled as he climbed onto the mattress, her body weight leaning into each dip his knees made as they pressed down. His wide, calloused hands gripped over her knees, pushing her thighs apart as he knelt between them. His cock slipped over her and he sucked in a breath, exhaling it slowly. His hips pushed down, then tilted in, and his cock pried between her lips and slid right in, she was so wet. Hazel gasped on the same breath he did, their eyes locking.

That was the only still moment between them. Their lovemaking turned as wild as it was the first night they were finally able to be together, their bodies stumbling to catch up to all the connecting their hearts had been doing. They were a mess of moans and grunts, of sweat-slick skin sliding on sweat-slick skin, of panted breaths and feverish kisses. Matt pushed up to his knees, hands gripping into her hips, and held her up as he thrust hard and fast, in and out of her, fucking her into her shoulders. Hazel moaned and arched toward his thrusts, opening her eyes to look up the stretch of her naked body to where he was sweating, tense and hungry over her.

Her eyes rolled back in her skull as he dipped his hips and pushed up, stroking a sensitive spot deep inside between her legs. It sent jolts down her thighs and her joints locked, stiff, toes curling in the air and fingers digging into the sheets. Her mouth stuttered on a gasp and hung, caught open. Matt grinned, just barely - doing so was an effort when he was pushing all his energy elsewhere - and the dark of his eyes seemed just a shade darker as he thrust harder, more pointed in that same way he’d gotten her a moment before. Over and over the head of his cock teased that sensitive little spot until she was careening, gasping on her cries, clamping her muscles tight and clenching her jaw in anticipation of- “MATT!” - the crash.

He came down with her, a boulder of uncontrolled muscle crashing in on her as his own body went rigid, balls likely sucked tight to the base of his cock as it pulsed inside her and her own orgasm grabbed it tight. He made a stuttered grunt that seemed like it was supposed to be her name, or maybe a warning, but his throat couldn’t move enough to work words. She felt the warmth inside her as he came, the last ripples of her orgasm pulling at every last drop of him buried so deep inside her.

Matt lay almost an uncomfortable, still weight on top of her as the last of the pleasure ebbed away and their minds pulled from the fog. Their skin stuck, warm and sweaty, his breaths crowding over her. But Hazel’s body was too worn out, she couldn’t be bothered enough to push him away. And some part of her enjoyed it, in a way, that she could finally have him so close that his physical weight might be uncomfortable. Every other night he was just a voice. Just a moving picture.

“Sorry,” he murmured, breathing in an exhausted chuckle, arms shaking as he slowly peeled himself off of her.

“It’s okay,” she said in the same low tone, eyes sliding to meet hers once there was enough space for them to.

Carefully, still sensitive and half-hard, Matt slipped his cock from between her legs. He winced, just barely as the head slipped out, spent and slick with both their cum. He maneuvered to lay his body down beside her on the bed, exhaling a large breath. Hazel grinned and turned over, curling into him almost immediately as he lifted an arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. She looked up at him as he tipped his bearded chin downward and met her eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” She was marveling, still. They’d rushed so quickly to be together, her mind had to catch itself back up.

“I missed you,” he said. His hand lifted so the tips of his fingers could smooth her frizzy hair, setting the pieces right that had stuck to her cheeks.

“I missed you, too.” She said. Her heartbeat hit a little harder, fear slipping into her veins at what she knew was showing brightly in her eyes that she tried so hard not to let go of. Vulnerability. Was he going to tell her he’d thought about what she’d said, and maybe they should look into being together exclusively? (She tried to ignore that this time, she felt three emotions altogether, all equally as potent: excitement, fear, and hesitance) 

Hazel waited for whatever he was going to say, but Matt didn’t speak. He smoothed his hand back down her shoulder and smiled, then leaned his head back on the pillow. His eyelids drifted closed, long eyelashes gently brushing the tops of his cheeks. His breathing relaxed and he seemed to sink calmly into the mattress.

Then she realized no profound confession was going to come from him. This surprise visit of Matt’s was just a one-off thing. Hazel tried to tell herself she wasn’t disappointed. He likely sensed like she did there’d been something wrong between them and he came to put himself between her legs and fuck her until she lost her mind. He’d curl his arm around her and tuck her into him like he was doing now and she’d remember how warm and safe it felt. 

But clearly he wasn’t going to tell her why he had become so distant after she finished the barn.

Maybe that was for the best, Hazel thought as she laid her head against his chest and let herself close her eyes and enjoy that he was there and warm and real in her bed with her. And she let herself remember that his smell would linger for a day or two in her sheets to be there as she drifted off to sleep. She wasn’t even sure she could commit to Matt, not after the connection she’d felt with Adam earlier.

Adam.

Her eyes opened quickly. She’d forgotten all about telling Matt about Adam. A sinking feeling hit the pit of her gut. She was too much of a coward to tell him to his face, when he’d driven all the way over here to surprise her. Especially now, naked, muscles sore from their desperate lovemaking. Hazel moved slowly and shushed him when he grunted and cracked an eye open, assuring him she was just going to the restroom. As her feet hit the plush carpet and he dozed off again, she wondered how she could get angry at him for skirting around things hanging between them when she couldn’t even show him the same courtesy.

**********

“Morning sleepyhead.” Matt whispered softly from where he was bent over her, standing on the other side of the bed, gently rubbing her shoulder. Hazel groaned, and something paper crinkled as he moved. “Look,” he beckoned, and she slowly pulled the comforter down to see a little bag with her store logo printed on it.

“Rosie says good morning. I went and got us coffee and breakfast, come on.” He gently tapped her ass over the comforter she was wrapped in and she groaned in complaint, tucking back into her warm cocoon. He laughed. “Come on, you have coffee to drink, food to eat, and a horse to tell me about.” His voice was fading as he walked out of the room and down the hall.

A horse to tell him about.

Adam’s horse.

Adam.

Matt showing up on her doorstep.

Adam and Matt being friends.

The way she felt when she was with Adam.

The way she felt when she was with Matt.

One day she would look back and maybe realize this was the exact moment, at 7:06AM on an otherwise normal Monday morning, with her body sore from the long drive and horseback riding and phenomenal sex, that she’d first made a connection that would become something paramount later on. But at present she was too tired and too worried about all that would go wrong to even consider what could be, let alone what couldn’t be controlled.

Hazel slid out of bed, wearing her sleep shorts and baggy shirt she’d tugged back on after getting ready for bed. She padded barefoot into the restroom, freshening up with only the amount of effort it took to splash her face, brush her teeth, and run a quick brush through her hair. She yawned as she turned away from her reflection and knew the warm cup of coffee would be a godsend this morning.

“There she is,” Matt said warmly, and she looked over at him - he was in his usual around-the-house attire of a cotton t-shirt of one of the brands that sponsored him and a comfortable pair of sweatpants. He’d swept his hair up into a bun, she remembered it down, jerking around his shoulders with each ram of his cock inside her. She licked her lips and set herself quickly down on the chair across from him, putting the reminder out of her head.

“My body feels so beat up, I don’t know how you travel like this and then perform every single week.” She complained as she wrapped her hands around the sleeve of the thermos he’d taken to get her coffee in.

“Aw, it’s not so bad. Eventually you just figure your body is supposed to feel all of those aches. You just kind of forget what it was like when you weren’t in pain.” He grinned as he lifted his coffee to his lips, winked and took a sip.

Hazel breathed out a laugh and rolled her eyes, taking her first sip of coffee and closing her eyes as she enjoyed how wonderful it was. She took another sip before the bag rustled and, looking, she saw Matt was opening it.

“Rosie had just pulled some lemon poppyseed muffins out of the oven before I rolled up. I grabbed a couple.” He reached in and placed one on a napkin for her, sliding it toward her spot on the table. He grabbed another one for himself and set his phone aside, it looked like he’d been reading a news article. Matt saw her glance at it. “Checking how everyone did at the other rodeos this weekend.” He grinned and shrugged as he picked at the muffin wrapper, peeling it away. “Trying to estimate what our scores are at and how good Nick and I have to be this weekend.”

“It never stops, huh?” Hazel said, but she didn’t say it sadly. It was more like she was marveling. He just kept pushing himself toward that dream, toward proving to everyone that he was as good as he said he was. It was admirable, even if it got in the way of something she wanted. That dream was there before her, anyways.

“Nope,” he said, and a sigh seemed to chase his words before he caught himself and plugged his mouth up with a chunk of baked goods. She did the same and he finally asked after he took a swig of coffee, “So, come on. Tell me about the horse.”

Hazel laughed, and she sipped her coffee to stall time.

“Funnily enough, it’s Adam’s.” She said, and her eyes shot to him as she kept the cup near her lips. She wondered if he’d ever caught on to any of it that first night they’d talked by the fire, when the energy between her and Adam had felt like it was practically shooting sparks.

“Adam?” He frowned and popped another bite into his mouth, chewing carefully. “Adam who?”

“Page.”

“Oh!” He laughed, clearly surprised. Delighted, even. So, he didn’t have any clue. “When did you find that out?”

“When I got there,” Hazel admitted. “I got so excited about going to see a horse I didn’t even ask for the guy’s name before I showed up, and then it turned out to be him.”

“Of course, you could only think about the horse.” Matt was grinning. “Which of his is it?”

“Daisy!” Hazel said it with excited breath, unable from sitting a little higher in her seat. It was easy to forget about Adam when she thought about the mare she might own soon.

“Daisy’s a beautiful little filly,” Matt said, frowning with thought. “That’s the little gold one that’s related to his mare Dolly, right?”

“Yeah, full sisters.”

“That’s right. Dolly is a sound horse. Last year at the NFR my horse hurt himself at the rodeo; he spooked when an attendant’s dog acted out and kicked, missed the dog and hit the trailer. It gashed up his leg and I didn’t want to run him, even patching it up. Didn’t want to take the risk. Adam always trailers in Dolly in case he decides to pick-up, and she’s a solid little ranch mare even if she’s not just for head roping. He let me ride her and Nick and I pulled second place when we otherwise would have had to drop out and severely hurt our rankings.”

“Wow,” Hazel exhaled, both marveling at the mare and at Adam’s quick thinking to make sure his friends wouldn’t miss their chances.

“Yeah,” Matt nodded and took another swallow of coffee and bite of muffin before adding, “if that little mare is anything like her sister, you’re going to have yourself a damn good horse.”

Hazel grinned. “I really think she’s something else. I haven’t felt that way when I’ve gotten on a horse since my first horse, Shorty.”

“Shorty?” Matt asked, smiling.

“He was a horse that a friend of my stepfather’s owned over at a dairy. He was the third horse I ever rode, a stocky little bay gelding with a little star on his forehead. He was playful and silly and would get a little pushy if I didn’t mind him, so he taught me a lot. He was also the first horse I ever rode barrels on.”

“Really?” Matt asked, leaning his forearms on the table and watching her.

“Yep! The dairy farmer’s daughter used to be a barrel racer, but she went off to college. Shorty was her horse. She came home for Christmas break and we went over for a little Christmas party and she asked me if I was the girl who was keeping Shorty company when she was gone. I was probably nine or ten at the time,” Hazel tilted her head, remembering that night well. “She asked me if I’d ever seen barrel racing and I said no, so she took me into her old room and showed me all the trophies and ribbons she and Shorty had won, and all the framed pictures she had. She taught me how to run the patterns that weekend and gave me books she’d learned from too.”

“Wow,” Matt said, smiling. “That’s awesome.”

“It really was! I felt that same connection to Daisy that I did when I used to ride Shorty.”

“You know, I think that might be the first time you’ve ever told me anything about your childhood.” He commented softly.

Hazel blinked. In truth, she’d been so happy to talk about Daisy she hadn’t even realized the story was tumbling out. She glanced down at her coffee mug, avoiding his gaze. “It’s not something I like to think about often.”

“I know,” he said. When she met his eyes, she saw they were warm and wanted to offer comfort. “Come on,” he broke the tension for her, and she was secretly grateful he didn’t press, or keep the silence hanging long enough she felt she had to talk about it. She wasn’t ready. “We still need to go pick up the clowns-” Carson and Callahan “-and you need to show me that barn in person.”

Hazel smiled as she stood up, grabbing the thermos as he took up the empty muffin wrappers and slid the crumbs off the table, throwing them in the trash on their way back to the bedroom to shower and dress. He wrapped an arm around her as she passed him and forced a pause in their walk to place a quick, soft kiss against her temple. An extra touch of comfort. Hazel’s heart warmed as their eyes met, her smile softening.

Matt had stayed most of the day with her. When Hazel finally saw him off it was in the late afternoon, and they tried their best not to talk about how badly they’d miss one another, though the words slipped out anyways. After she watched his truck back down her drive and take off down the road, Hazel loaded Carson and Callahan into her truck and went to relieve Rosie from managing the coffee shop. 

The dogs were always welcome at the shop, though they mostly slept and played in the manager’s office, only occasionally coming out when beckoned by a customer who asked if they could pet them. Hazel loved having a place she could bring her pups along with her if she wanted and was always delighted when someone seemed genuinely enthused to play with them. Some customers brought their dogs by, too, and they’d go out on the white-picket fence enclosed patio to play and have a little fun.

As she let Carson and Callahan inside and the little bell chimed as the door swung closed, she noticed a beautiful painting on the wall; a mountain landscape set in soft, lavender tones. “Oh wow! Is that a new one?”

“It is!” Rosie beamed, clearly happy Hazel had noticed.

“Rosie, it’s gorgeous!” Hazel said, turning to appreciate her friend’s artistic talents. “You really outdid yourself.” She stepped a little closer to it and smiled, looking at the little details that drew her eyes the longer she admired it.

“Thank you sugar,” Rosie said with a wink and couldn’t calm the width of her smile as she practically beamed under the compliment. “But,” her expression turned a little more pointed as Hazel glanced over at her, “Don’t think buttering me up is going to get you out of telling me what happened with Matt last night.”

Hazel laughed. “I wasn’t trying to get out of it! But aren’t you exhausted? You’ve been here since the crack of dawn and we didn’t exactly get to bed early last night.”

Rosie waved her hand dismissively as the pair turned and made for the office. Two of their part-time staff members were on hand to help serve the steady flow of customers coming in and out for a little treat and something warm to drink in the steadily cooling late-fall weather. It gave them the perfect opportunity to slip into the office, closing the door behind them for privacy. Rosie waited until they’d sat, offering Callahan a few scratches behind the ear as he walked over and plopped down in front of her, clearly expecting some love.

“I didn’t tell him what happened with Adam.” Hazel exhaled in a rush, then groaned and shook her head. “I couldn’t. Or, I didn’t want to. I don’t know. It was just so good to be with him again, you know?”

Rosie looked at her with sympathy. “I know, sweetheart. But letting it go on like this is just gonna lead to more heartache when things finally do come out. Adam’s still going to be bringing the horse, right?”

“Yeah,” Hazel said, worrying at her bottom lip and shaking her head. She knew clinging to the excuse that they hadn’t discussed anything was a cheap way out. She knew the right thing would have been to at least clue Matt into her having feelings for Adam, but she couldn’t do it. “So long as she passes her vet check, which I'm sure she will.”

Which meant Adam would be trailering her in. Which meant she would be alone with Adam. She knew she should feel guilty, not excited.

“How long will that take?”

“A few days, maybe? It depends on when the vet can get out there and then when Adam has the time to drive her up.”

Rosie hummed under her breath and then smiled. “She is really pretty.”

“Isn’t she?” Hazel couldn’t ignore how her heart lifted just to think of the little golden mare and how she couldn’t wait to hopefully begin training her on the barrels.

Rosie asked a few more questions about the mare, and Hazel was all too happy to answer. It was much, much easier to gush about her potential new horse than it was to go in anxiety-ridden circles about the potential mess she was making between herself, Matt, and Adam. She went on about a barrel saddle she’d had her eye on buying, light oil color with hand-painted floral details, turquoise and clear crystal embellishments. There was a matching headstall and breast collar to the entire set. Hazel pulled it up on her phone and passed it over, smiling as Rosie marveled at how pretty it was and how well the turquoise would look against Daisy’s golden coat.

It was exciting to talk about these things again. To think the mornings of tugging on her boots and making her way to the stall to feed were just on the horizon. Hazel could barely contain her excitement. All she needed now was to hear from Adam again, and she hoped it would be soon. Both because she wanted to know if she could really begin dreaming of everything she and her new little mare would do and because she could daydream about seeing him again. 

Across from her, Rosie lifted her hand to cover a yawn. Hazel smiled sympathetically and clapped her palms against her thighs, pushing up to her feet.

“Come on,” Hazel said, reaching to pull Rosie up out of her chair. “Your friendship duties are officially over. I know you’re tired out of your mind, so I’m sending you home.” She tugged her out of the office and stopped them in the middle of the shop, despite Rosie’s arguments that she wasn’t that tired, and would be more than happy to keep on talking.

“Go on, get home safe.” Hazel nodded over Rosie’s shoulder to the door.

“Alright, alright,” Rosie said, conceding at last. “But remember,” her tone brought Hazel’s eyes to meet hers. “If you need me, I’m always just a phone call away.”

Hazel’s lips curled upward as she reached to gently grasp Rosie’s hand. “Thank you.” Rosie nodded and turned, waving and giving her goodbye to their staff working behind the counter and once she was gone, Hazel returned to the office to pick up where Rosie’s work had left off.

Two hours into spreadsheets and schedules and budgets that had her eyes wanting to cross, Hazel’s phone buzzed.

TEXT FROM: Adam

Daisy passed her vet check with flying colors.

Hazel’s brows shot up as excitement rushed through her. She couldn’t grab her phone up to reply fast enough.

TEXT TO: Adam

Yay!!!!! I know you’re already helping me out by driving her up to mine since I don’t have a trailer yet, but is it wrong of me to ask how soon you’re able to? I’m just so eager to have her.

TEXT FROM: Adam

Not wrong at all. I’m happy she’s clearly going to a good home. If I could bring her up Friday and leave Dolly with her overnight, you’d be doing me a favor. I have a rodeo about seven hours further north of you on Saturday. I could drive six hours to yours, put Dolly up and that’ll give Daisy some company for the first night in a new place. Then I’ll just stay at a hotel and come back in the morning, load Dolly up and finish my drive to the rodeo.

Hazel read and reread the message. There was nothing wrong with him leaving Dolly overnight and she did like the idea that Daisy would have something and someone familiar on her first night at her new home. But she knew, before she even began typing the message, her reply was going to make it all kinds of wrong.

TEXT TO: Adam

That’s no problem at all! If you want to save money on a hotel, I have a guest bedroom. If it wouldn’t be weird for you. I am still kind of with Matt.

TEXT FROM: Adam

Kind of with… but not dating, right?

Her pulse jumped, but her stomach turned. She sucked in a breath.

TEXT TO: Adam

Yeah…

TEXT FROM: Adam

It’d help me out to not have to pay for a hotel room, so if it wouldn’t be weird for you, I’d appreciate the offer. I’ll keep my hands to myself, if that’s what you want.

She didn’t want that and they both knew it. With a sigh, she glanced over at Carson, who was stretched out on the dog bed in the office. He perked his ears at her as their eyes met.

“I don’t know what I’m doing either, bud.” She said and glanced back down at her phone.

TEXT TO: Adam

Guest bedroom it is. See you Friday. 

She set her phone down and, elbows on the desk, leaned her face into her hands and closed her eyes. This wasn’t fair to Matt. Beside her, Hazel’s phone buzzed. Another text message, probably from Adam. She cracked her eyes open and almost choked on a laugh. Speak of the devil.

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

Almost home! Just a few more hours. Call you when I get there?

She glanced at the time, and figured she’d be just locking up and getting home when he was finally ready to call.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Sounds great babe. Drive safe! 

Another heavy exhale and she set her phone down, glancing back at Carson who was still watching her from where he was laying. He thumped his tail and Hazel smiled flatly. 

“You’re supposed to protect me from things that hurt me, you know that, right?”

He pulled up to his feet, tail wagging increasingly harder the closer to her got, sitting in front of her knees and pushing his head onto her lap. He looked up at her with big brown puppy dog eyes and Hazel sighed, shaking her head and scratching him behind his floppy, soft golden ears.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You can’t protect me from myself. It isn’t your fault.”

Hazel gave him a final little scratch behind the ears and gently pushed him from her lap, turning in the office chair to pick up work again. When she’d done enough scheduling and inventorying and planning to make her want to rake her eyes out, she joined the staff working until closing and helped them behind the counter, checking in with townsfolk she was familiar with and thanking them for coming by. It was nicer than sitting alone in the office with only her thoughts to turn her around and around. Here, conversation stole her attention and left it with nothing to focus on but familiar faces and pleasantry.

The sky became pitch black as the night stretched ever closer, the sun having set a few hours prior. Hazel waved her employees goodnight and locked up, getting Carson and Callahan loaded into the backseat of her truck’s cab before climbing up into the driver’s seat. She was alone with only her thoughts again, but was quick to flip on the radio, deciding if she sang along to her favorite songs it’d be enough to preoccupy her on the drive home.

It was, of course, temporary.

Soon enough she was pulling into the driveway, killing the engine and glancing down at the time on her phone. Matt would likely be calling in just a few minutes. Hazel tucked her phone into her pocket and slid out of the truck, taking Callahan and Carson up to the front door and giving a quick smile over at the still-empty barn. She let her heart lift with excitement, thinking of that cute little golden mare who’d occupy it soon enough.

As soon as she’d lightly tossed her keys into the catch-all on the hallway table, her phone started to ring. When she pulled it out of her pocket, she was relieved to see it was a normal call and not FaceTime. She slid to answer and held it up to her ear.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey you!” He sounded happy. Hazel bit at her bottom lip.

“How was the drive home?”

“Not bad,” he groaned, and she heard a sound like he’d collapsed onto his bed, the sheets and mattress giving way beneath his weight. “Mmm,” he murmured tiredly, “wish you were here though.” A sigh through his nose. “I wasn’t ready to let you go after just one day.”

“I wasn’t ready for you to, either.” A pinch of sadness weighed down her tone. Hazel didn’t understand how she could feel how she felt about him, but also feel the way she felt about Adam both at the same time. It didn’t seem fair. Or reasonable. She knew what it was like to be cheated on, and she didn’t want to be the kind of person that’d bring that sort of pain to someone she cared about. But again, she found herself confused and wondering… was it cheating if they weren’t technically together?

“Sorry,” he said, picking up on the long pause of silence between them. “I didn’t mean to get mopey and be a downer on the conversation.”

“No, no,” she slowly lowered onto the couch, peering off across the room but seeing none of it. She was picturing him, instead. “You don’t need to apologize.” She took a small pause. “Hey, Matt?”

“Hm?”

“Can I say something that might make the conversation even more of a downer?” Her chest felt tight.

“I… guess. What’s wrong?” His voice sounded sharper than it did before. She’d broken through the exhaustion of a long day’s drive and now he was alert.

“I know we said we weren’t going to talk about dating until after this rodeo season was over in December,” she started, “but something’s changed and I just need to know if you really see us as exclusively dating - the real thing - after this season is done.”

“I… What do you mean, something’s changed? What changed?”

She could hear a touch of anger in his voice.

No, wait. Not anger. 

Worry.

“Matt,” she sighed and closed her eyes, reaching to pinch the bridge of her nose. “What happens next rodeo season?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what happens if during the off-season you decide you have enough time to date, but then the rodeo season starts up again in the spring and you feel like you can’t be around again?”

There was a long pause. Longer than normal.

“Hazel, I…” He trailed off. Every second of silence made her chest ache a little tighter and a little tighter. “I don’t know.”

She exhaled and hated the way her eyes were stinging. “You don’t think we could do it? The long-distance thing?”

“What’s changed, Hazel? I was just there with you yesterday and everything was perfect. Why are you suddenly asking me all of this?”

“I met someone.” It was out of her mouth before she had a second chance to think. Before she could point out there shouldn’t be any difference if they wanted to try dating now or a few months from now. The rodeo and their distance were always going to be there, so why not try and work through it now if that’s what he really wanted?

“You met someone.” He laughed, but there was no humor to it. Now she could hear a little bit of anger.

“Matt, nothing’s happened.” That was a lie. Hazel swallowed against her rising guilt. “I just want to know where we stand. I care about you, Matt.”

I love you, she wanted to say, but she was too terrified to say those three little words and then hear him tell her he didn’t feel the same.

“I care about you too!”

“Do you?” The words practically leapt out of her, pushed by the pain she was feeling. “Because if you cared about me, I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to just try dating, Matt. We’re adults, we can figure out trips to see one another.” 

Suddenly this conversation was steamrolling into a fight.

“I already told you I don’t have time to focus on a relationship the way I’d want to. I don’t want to hurt you when I have to pick the rodeo over you.”

“You already are.” Picking the rodeo over her or hurting her? 

Hazel didn’t specify.

The pause was long again. He exhaled a sharp breath, but still didn’t speak. It stretched on a little longer.

“Are you going to say anything?” She asked, hearing how small her voice was.

“I don’t know what to say.”

She swallowed back against the lump in her throat and tried her hardest to keep from crying but felt the slip of a tear down her cheek just a moment after. Careful to stay as quiet as possible so he wouldn’t hear her crying, she reached for a tissue on the coffee table and carefully pressed it against her eyes, looking up at the ceiling and doing her best to not let any more fall or any shaking breaths leave her lips.

“Well,” she tried once she felt like she could get her voice. She could hear the faint roughness of emotion laid over it but tried to keep her tone level. “I guess I should go then.”

“Hazel, we can’t leave it like this. We can’t hang up like this.”

She hated that she could hear the hurt in his voice. He was hurting her. Why wouldn’t he answer her? Why wouldn’t he try? Wouldn’t it make sense, if they were going to date exclusively, to try during the most hectic time of the year to see if they had what it takes to get through the tough stuff? Didn’t that just mean that somewhere, in the back of his mind, he didn’t really want to be with her as much as he thought he did?

“I don’t know what to say.” She echoed his words back to him, to hurt him too, but she didn’t feel particularly good about it. It just hurt her more. She heard another breath rush out of his lungs.

He cursed under his breath. “Hazel, I care about you, okay? I wouldn’t have driven all that way to surprise you if I didn’t.”

“I know,” Hazel closed her eyes tight, hoping that’d continue to keep the tears at bay. “But you don’t want to date right now?”

“The NFR is just two months away,” he said quietly. “Can’t we just wait to talk about this until then? Maybe there’ll be a rodeo close enough for you to come out and stay the weekend with me? I think I have one this weekend that’s about seven hours away from you.”

“I’d have to talk to Rosie and see if she could cover the shop for me,” she trailed off and then shook her head, remembering, “No, wait. I can’t. I’m getting my horse on Friday.”

“Oh… I think the other ones are all out-of-state. Wyoming and Montana until we head to Vegas for the NFR.” He paused and when he spoke next, she could tell he was trying to make his voice lighter, trying to patch them up and pull them away from that sad place they’d been in. “But hey! You didn’t tell me your horse passed the vet check. That’s exciting!”

Her heart was too heavy to lift, even for that. It felt like a cheap way to distract her from what they’d been talking about.

“Yeah, it is.” She looked up at her ceiling. “I need to go... I have to be up early so I can open the shop.”

“Okay,” he said, but she heard the hesitation in the pause that followed. They still hadn’t soothed what wounds they’d both opened, and now neither of them knew how to. If they hung up, the sting would have no choice but to linger. “I’ll text you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Hazel.”

“Bye, Matt.”

She pulled her phone slowly away, blinked at his name and the seconds trickling by the timestamp on their phone call. The screen blurred as her eyes filled with tears. She clicked the red circle to hang-up before they started to fall.

***********

A loud, long groan pushed with effort from his chest, barely muffled behind closed lips, his jaw clenched tight. His work-glove covered hands curled around the handles of the hay hooks buried at either side of the fifty-pound bale of alfalfa hay and he hoisted it upward, biceps bulging against his sun-tanned skin with the effort. He turned his body and swung the bale up onto the stack in his hay barn which he’d parked the trailer beside to unload.

The work kept him occupied and pushed the frustrations that’d plagued him through a sleepless night. Some bales that he lifted, he practically screamed through, but it was only against the thoughts that’d been circling endlessly around in his head and spreading an ache in his chest. He kept trying to shake it off. Each time he tugged the hay hooks from the bale and stabbed them aggressively into the next to be unloaded, he hoped some of that tension would ease out of his body. Maybe he’d exhaust himself enough that he’d just lay back right there on the scratchy hay and pass out and wouldn’t be able to think anymore.

Sweat dripped down his temple and he paused, stretching upright with the hooks left in the bale, reaching to wipe it away with the back of his hand before it hit his eyes. His other hand swiped the black cowboy hat from his head and he fanned himself briefly with the brim, stirring the few wisps of brown hair that’d untucked from his low bun as he worked. He realized it felt loose and dropped his hat onto the hay bale, reaching up to secure it again. His arms burned with a familiar, comfortable ache and he knew he’d have no hope but to fall into a deep sleep tonight.

“I thought you were going to wait until I was over to unload!” Nick’s familiar voice called up from a short distance away, and Matt dropped his hands slow, reaching to pick up his hat and wiping the little flakes of alfalfa that’d stuck to it. He stuck it low on his brow before he turned to look at his brother, who’d now reached the flatbed and was peering up at him with a frown, long fingers pinching his narrow hips.

“I needed to do something.” He said, voice strained as he realized how thirsty he was. He tugged off his gloves, hands warm, and tossed them gently onto the next hay bale he was supposed to move.

Nick’s frown deepened. He turned to where Matt had left his bottle of water and chucked it underhand up to him. “What’s going on?”

Matt twisted the cap off and looked over at his younger brother, pushing a sigh out of his nose and dropping his shoulders. “I fucked things up with Hazel.” He tipped the bottle back and took a swallow, using it as an opportunity to avoid meeting Nick’s eyes.

“What? How?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed and licked the residue water from his lips. That was a lie, he did know. He also knew that all he had to do was tell Nick the conversation verbatim, and Nick would know too.

Nick didn’t press or say anything. He pushed up on the flatbed trailer, where there was space for his boots to firmly land on the secured wood-beams that made the bed. Matt had already managed to clear a decent amount of bales on his own, but he was feeling the exhaustion at having overexerted himself because of it.

Another sigh.

“She met someone else, Nick.”

Nick’s brows lifted. He tugged his gloves from the back pocket of his Wranglers and pulled them onto his hands, stepping into Matt’s space as Matt took a few steps to the side. Setting the bottle of water aside he reached for his gloves, tugging them on as he considered what happened on the phone with Hazel the night prior.

As Nick grabbed the handle of the hook on the left side, Matt grabbed the right. They maneuvered the bale onto the pile being stacked in the hay storage and when Matt tugged the hook free, he spoke.

“She told me something had changed, and then asked me what happens next rodeo season.” He blinked, a frown pushing his dark brows together. His arm swung as he buried the metal hook into the next bale. “I-”a grunt broke between his words “-asked her what had changed and she told me she met someone.” He tried to say it as if it didn’t tap on one of those very fears that’d worried him about them dating.

“So she doesn’t want to talk anymore?” Nick asked, hoisting his side up as Matt followed suit and they stacked the next bale.

“No,” Matt shook his head. “She didn’t say that. But we got…” he glanced down at the toes of his boots, gaze distant as he remembered lying on his bed, heart pounding so fast and hard in his chest he felt sick, fingers curled so tight around his phone they ached and his knuckles were white.

I don’t want to hurt you when I have to pick the rodeo over you.

You already are.

His eyes rolled up to the sky as he tipped his head back. A dry laugh left him on an exhale, but there was no humor in it. “We got into a fight. A real one.” His head tipped back forward and his eyes slid to Nick’s. “I can’t remember the last time I was with a girl long enough to have fought with her.”

“Girls yell at you all the time,” Nick said, swinging the curved hook into his side of the bale.

A grin curled the edge of Matt’s mouth beneath his mustache. “Shut up,” he said half-heartedly, stabbing his hook into the hay and hoisting the weight upward as Nick did too. Once they’d swung the bale onto the stack and released the hooks, Matt shrugged. “That doesn’t count. That’s them yelling at me about how I’m a no-good scoundrel who’s only love is rodeo gold, that’s not us fighting.”

“You’ve never stuck around long enough to fight with them.” Nick said it casually, but Matt felt himself tense.

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time for this bullshit.” He spat it out with a little more venom than he’d intended, gesturing vaguely. “My focus has always been on our career, and that’s no different now. Where am I supposed to fit a relationship in with a woman who lives a whole day’s drive away?”

Matt stabbed the hook into his bale, but Nick didn’t do his. Straightening upright, Matt looked at his brother and saw Nick was watching him with an almost sympathetic look across his face. Matt hated how much it cut through him, how it immediately tugged away the anger that was keeping him safe from feeling how hurt he was. His eyes dropped away from Nick’s.

“You sort of already are, Matt.”

Matt glanced up and saw Nick was still steadily watching him. For all of Matt’s anxious ticks and nervous energy, Nick was calm and still, far more collected of the two. Nick pulled his glove off and scratched at the light scruff on his chin as his brows pinched inward and he narrowed his eyes in thought.

“Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you play your normal games with the rodeo girls.” Nick’s eyes slid to Matt and his brows lifted beneath the brim of his baseball cap, pushing the brim just slightly up his forehead. “I think the last time was when you met her.”

Matt shrugged and turned away, as though that would hide what having those truths laid out bare in front of him made him feel, and how scared he was to feel those feelings. “Come on,” he said, encouraging Nick to put his work gloves back on and help hoist the hay. “She already met someone else. It was only a matter of time anyways. She deserves someone who’s going to be there for her more than I can be. Who isn’t going to hurt her like I have.”

Nick was slow to put his glove on, but didn’t talk until he’d picked his hook back up and secured it into the bale. “For all we’ve known each other - and it has been quite some time,” he pushed through gritted teeth as they hoisted the hay up onto the stack and tugged his hook free, “I’ve never known you to be a quitter. Especially if it’s not something your heart wants.”

**********

“Okay, I don’t think she’s paying attention to us.”

“No, I don’t think she is. She hasn’t looked over since we said her name an entire minute ago.”

“So we could say whatever we want about her and she wouldn’t hear it?”

“Probably.” A little snickering followed, but just like the question Andrea had asked her a moment ago, Hazel heard none of it. Her foot was bouncing beside the chair as her eyes pinned to the semi-busy afternoon crowds down main street outside her’s and Rosie’s coffee shop. She was sitting at one of the window seats, across from her was Rosie and Andrea, as the three girls had a little get-together one of the few nights Andrea had a chance to leave her siblings behind and had no shift at either of the jobs she worked.

They’d caught up on what had happened between Hazel and Matt and the fact that she hadn’t heard from him since their fight on Monday. She hadn’t tried to text or call him back, and he hadn’t tried to text or call her.

“Does this mean you guys are over?” Andrea had asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Hazel didn’t want to say yes, though that’s certainly what it felt like.

“Hey! Hazel! Hello!” Andrea’s voice was suddenly loud, and it made her jump as her wide-eyes swung back to find her friends staring at her with matching grins.

“Sorry,” she said, “did you ask me something?”

“Yeah, about five minutes ago!”

“Sorry!” Hazel laughed and shook her head.

“It’s okay,” Rosie laughed, “we know you can’t think of anything but Daisy.”

Adam would be sending her a message as soon as he was an hour outside town. It would give her time to leave the shop, drive home and do another check to make sure everything was ready for the mare. Or, mares, since Dolly would be staying the night too. As would her handler.

Hazel was trying not to think about that too much, along with making the egregious mistake of assuming she could be reasonable and keep her hands off of him and stay in her room and not do anything to further complicate her love life. Instead, she was putting all her focus and attention on the arrival of her new horse. It wasn’t too hard to do, given how excited she was about being a horse owner again, and how much she couldn’t wait to run Daisy on the barrels. It was like a piece of her had reawoken, something that she thought she’d lost long, long ago.

“I can’t wait,” Hazel confessed, looking between her friends and beaming. “I can’t wait for you to meet her Andrea, she’s an absolute sweetheart.”

“She really is,” Rosie agreed.

“Don’t be surprised if Grace starts asking for a sleepover at Auntie Hazel’s,” Andrea said. Grace was her youngest sibling at seven years-old, and the only girl. “She’s in that horse-crazy phase of her young girl years.”

“Ah,” Hazel said, nodding, “a phase I know all too well. Some of us never grow out of it.” Their light laughter was broken by Hazel’s phone chiming and lighting up where it sat on the table in front of her. She squealed to see Adam’s name and was quick to open his message. “Looks like it’s time for me to head home and check everything over.” She said, smiling back up at her friends.

“Adam’s close?” Rosie asked.

“Yep,” Hazel pushed the chair back as she stood, “I’ll send you guys some videos of her settling in!” 

The girls said their goodbyes and Hazel rounded up Carson and Callahan, loading them in her truck before she headed for home. She couldn’t get there fast enough, even knowing Adam was still an entire hour out. Her giddiness made her realize twice she was speeding, and she’d exhale with a laugh as she eased the foot off the pedal and slowed her truck down. She felt like a kid at Christmas, all the excitement inside her pouring out in what felt like a permanent smile that’d been on her face all day.

The following hour passed surprisingly quickly as she did a check around the barn and turnout paddocks, filled two stalls with a little over a foot of soft sawdust flakes, and got the water buckets filled before flipping the automatic fill nozzles on. Hazel had just swung the back door toward the turnout paddock open when she heard the rumble of the truck’s engine and glanced to see Adam pulling his horse trailer up the drive.

Wiping her hands on her jeans she darted out of the barn and half-jogged to where he slowly pulled the truck to a stop. 

“Hey!” She called as he climbed out of the cab.

“Hello again,” he said warmly, and opened his arms to envelope her in a friendly hug. Hazel didn’t hesitate, and something in her softened to have his arms around her and his scent - whatever shampoo and conditioner he used, horses, leather, and the faint spearmint from the gum he’d been chewing - in her nose, her lungs as she dragged a deep enough breath for it. He must’ve sensed something, because as she snuggled in close, Adam’s hands flattened on her back, holding her closer into his front. 

Hazel buried her face against him, and let the pain she’d been feeling that past week slip away, second by second that he held her. His arms shifted, he pulled her back just enough to lift his thick fingers to her chin, guiding it up so their eyes could meet. The way concern looked on his face made her heart ache.

“You alright?” He asked, his green eyes jumping between hers.

“Yeah,” she exhaled and nodded. “I’m okay.” 

The hand that’d been holding her chin reached to cup her cheek. His thumb skimmed across her skin. “Alright.” He said. He wouldn’t press, wouldn’t make her tell him why she’d needed to hold him so tightly. 

“Want to introduce your girl to her new home?” He tilted his head toward the trailer, blond curls gently shifting with the movement.

“Yes!” She practically jumped in his arms and was only remiss for a second when their embrace broke.

As Adam went to unhitch the back of the trailer, Hazel popped the side door, speaking softly to the golden mares as she stepped inside the trailer. She ran a gentle hand along Daisy’s haunches and down her spin, shifting between them to where her lead was securely knotted. Quick work undid the nylon and Hazel gently turned her, leading her out of the trailer. “Welcome home, Daisy,” she said as they walked down the ramp and onto the gravel driveway outside.

Daisy lifted her nose in the air, nostrils flaring as she sucked in deep, fresh breaths of all the new smells. She jerked her head lightly on the lead - not enough to disturb Hazel’s grasp, though it tightened all the same - and looked around, ears pointing forward, attentive. Hazel smiled and rubbed her free hand down Daisy’s warm, strong neck. “What do you see, girl?” She asked her, starting to walk, Daisy more than happy to fall in step with her.

As Hazel showed her around the yard, Adam unloaded Dolly, who was clearly happy to be able to uncramp her legs from the trailer.

“Let’s turn them out in the arena,” Hazel suggested, nodding toward it. “They can stretch their legs and get some energy out.” She could tell when Daisy had turned and seen her sister that her excitement had mounted and the clips of her hooves hit a little more rapidly as she swung her hips, moving restlessly. It’d be good to let them burn this off.

Adam nodded and started toward the arena, Dolly glancing around as he led her toward the gate. Hazel followed in tow with Daisy, who seemed confident and happy following her older sister. Adam popped the latch and pushed it open on the hinge, walking Dolly in a few steps over the soft sand-dirt blend arena. He reached up to unclip her lead as Hazel led Daisy in behind them, reaching to do the same before Daisy could get too excited about her sister already trotting a few paces out. The lead unclipped, Daisy tossed her head and pulled her legs up in a high-knee trot, cream-white tail flagging out behind her muscled haunches.

Adam joined Hazel, standing side by side with her as they both held their horse’s respective leads, smiling and watching the mares in the arena.

As Daisy approached Dolly, Dolly lifted her head and kicked out her heels playfully, picking up the pace to egg her younger sister into a chase. The two uncramped their muscles from the six-hour long travel in the trailer, and worked through their energy at being in a completely new place with new smells. Dolly was used to traveling and her confident nature would help ease Daisy into this place too, making it more something to be intrigued by than fearful of. It was a good thing Adam had a rodeo and needed to bring Dolly, too. Hazel watched both golden mares stop at the other end of the arena and glance out toward the foothills, side by side as they pointed their ears over the fence and listened to whatever caught their attention.

“She looks right at home here,” Adam said, and it drew Hazel’s eyes toward him.

“She does.” She agreed with a smile.

“Want to give these girls a break? Show me around your barn?” He offered.

“Sure,” Hazel agreed with a smile, and turned to walk back toward the arena gate they’d gently closed after releasing the mares. They hung the leads on the fencepost, since they wouldn’t need them until they were ready to put the mare’s up for the night, and exited. Adam latched the arena gate and waved a hand at Dolly and Daisy, who’d glanced over to curiously watch them make their exit.

“It’s definitely nowhere near as fancy as yours,” she started, not wanting his expectations through the roof as she led him across the yard toward it.

“Well, you’re also not a multi-year bronc bustin’ rodeo champion with a ranch horse breeding business on the side.”

“Fair point,” she laughed as he raised his brows and fixed her with a pointed, green-eyed stare. He grinned shortly after, and her eyes lingered over how handsome happiness looked on him. It made his cheeks perfectly round and pinchable, with a brightness in his green eyes that nearly made them shine blue.

They reached the little three stall barn and Hazel tried to temper her smile as she walked him around, showed him the stalls and their swing out doors to the small turn-outs, the little tack room that doubled as a feed room and an all-purpose room, too. No wide wash-stalls with cross-ties here. It was a humble little stable but, like Adam said, it wasn’t like she was raising a whole herd of horses or in the business of it,  no matter how much she’d love to be.

Still, Hazel was proud of it. She had built the frame with her own two hands, even if a company had finished it, furnished it and given it some pretty little upgrades she might not have put the time into herself. 

“I like it,” he said, his nod shifting the blond curls resting on his broad, muscled shoulders.

“Yeah?” She asked, smiling up at him.

“Yeah! I can see it’s new, no little dents from the day-to-day, can still smell the fresh paint, everything is shiny and unlived in but, it feels like…” he paused, “feels like it’ll be a home. It’s warm; it has heart.”

Hazel laughed softly.

“What?” He asked.

“Sometimes I feel like you’ve got a poet’s soul, cowboy.”

“Aw,” he grunted, and she was pleased to see just a little bit of red in his cheeks as he smiled. “I normally don’t talk this much to people.” He said, then sighed. “Well, I do. I can talk my way into looking comfortable in any size crowd so well, people will think I must be a natural. Truth is, most of the time I’m around people, I’m terrified as hell. What if I say the wrong thing? Is it wrong that I really don’t care that Kenny’s playing a new video game? Am I acting like I do enough so I don’t come off rude as he talks to me about it? Am I maybe being a little spoiled, not wanting to talk to my friend about something he likes or is it okay that I don’t want to? Am I a good person?” He rattled off the questions with a good-humored exaggeration of his worried persona until she was biting down hard into her smile as he did. 

Hazel shook her head and reached out to touch his forearm. He brought his eyes to hers, and his posture relaxed. One of his free hands reached up to cup her face.

“But with you, I feel like I can say exactly what I want to say, and I want you to accept and understand me so bad, and then you do. Or you say something I’ve been thinking, but haven’t managed to put together to make sense of it yet. You just…” he exhaled, and she felt the warmth of it over her lips. He’d sank down closer to her, as if every word pulled them in like magnets. “You scare me, Hazel, but you make me feel more like me than I’ve ever been comfortable with before.” 

And their lips met, her answer a muffled whine, sweet and heartfelt against his tongue. He inhaled sharp, and his hand slipped from her face to pinch into her waist, his other hand flanking her other side. He squeezed hard, harder than he’d meant to as a muscle jumped in his blond hair-dusted forearms and his hold relaxed, just a little. His thick, tall body bullied her back to the wall where she went willingly, just like before.

Her back flattened and his body was quick to push warm and needy against her front. A perfectly placed knee guided her legs apart so he could shuffle in a step closer, pushing the bulge growing between her legs against her thigh. They fell into where they were a week ago in his barn as if no time had passed or location had changed. Adam’s hand pushed up her shirt, calloused hands grazing her soft tummy as they moved upward. His greedy fingers slipped under her bra until they found her left nipple, squeezing it and giving it a slight pull - just enough to make her moan into his mouth and his grin to smear across their kiss.

Hazel pulled her head away to look at him and saw how dark his eyes were. He almost looked like a man possessed, so hungry for her, with so many emotions flooding the surface. She could feel nothing but loved beneath a gaze like that, and with how low her heart had been all week, it was more than she could ask for.

Adam released her left nipple and slipped to cup her right breast instead, wiggling to offer it the same treatment, pushing his mouth hot against hers to muffle another little yelp of pleasure-pain that pulled from her throat when he pinched it. Her hips moved restlessly against him, rubbing his growing, jean-clad cock on her thigh and herself on his sturdy, large thigh. It shoved the stitching of her jeans against her thin little panties, and she gasped shakily when their mouths moved apart.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling away to get a good look down at her. His eyes jumped over her face and he smiled, almost in wonder. “C’mere, I want to see you.” His voice husky, gentle. Adam took his fingers out from where he was stretching the elastic of her bra and out of her shirt, pinching the hem instead. He slipped it up her body, eyes meeting hers to make sure it was what she wanted.

Hazel didn’t hesitate. With their eyes locked, she took her shirt from his grasp and ripped it quickly over her head. When his eyes fell greedy to her cleavage she wasted no time twisting an arm behind her back, grasping her bra’s clasp and twisting to pop it free. Adam’s eyes jumped to hers, then back down as she peeled the material away and dropped it at his feet in the barn aisle next to her shirt.

“God damn, Hazel,” he whispered in a hot breath as one hand lifted to lightly hold the weight of her bare breast, his eyes falling from hers, to it. The pad of his thumb skimmed over her teased hard, sensitive nipple and she inhaled a sharp breath. His head of golden curls bent so his mouth could engulf her breast and the flat of his wide tongue could flick back and forth across her little pink nipple.

Hazel bent her head back, eyes on the wood-beams above. Adam’s warm mouth worshipped one breast, then moved to the other to offer it the same treatment. His fingers crawled down to her jeans and tested the loops before turning in toward the button. He slipped it free then lifted his head, and his eyes - dark with need - met hers. The brief moment of pause in the chaos. The one chance to say “Are you sure?” without actually saying the words. As if there was any chance she’d want to go back now. As if there was any chance they could rein in the coming storm their passion felt like it would be.

She nodded, just barely, and a grin curved Adam’s mouth. The zipper of her jeans tugged down with a loud, quick zip, but before he could tug them down, she was prying at the hem of his shirt and pushing it up his thick, warm torso.

“Fair’s fair,” she said as he bent in and tasted the skin of her neck. “I’m shirtless, so you have to be too.”

She could feel his grin against her skin, and he was still smiling as he took his thick fingers off her jeans and stepped back just enough to have the room to strip. “Didn’t realize we had rules,” he teased as he pulled the material up his body and let it fall carelessly to the floor beside them. Hazel’s eyes swept down his handsome face to that broad chest, down the subtle curve of his belly where just an inch of fat hung over his tooled leather belt, and the big, shiny buckle bit into it.

“I like my rule,” she said, reaching to put her hands on his biceps and sliding them up his shoulders. 

“I didn’t say it was a bad rule,” he leaned in to put his mouth in the hollow dip of her neck and taste the skin down to her collar bone. His short beard scratched at her as his kisses turned a little more feverish, and his fingers once again wiggled their way toward her jeans.

This time Hazel didn’t stop him and after only a brief hesitation he tugged the stiff material of her jeans down her hips and thighs, kneeling in front of her and helping her out of her boots. A shiver ran over her body - nearly nude spare her thin, teal panties - as he straightened over her.

“Cold?” He asked in a low voice, and crowded his warm body closer. One of his hands framed her face, his fingertips tracing her jaw. He brought her eyes up to his and gently ran the flat of his thumb over the shape of her lips.

“No,” she whispered as he pulled his hand away. “I just feel… exposed.”

He paused for a minute, glancing over his shoulder toward the open end of the small stable, then back at her. “It’s just us, darlin’.”

“I know, but it’s been a long time since I was in a barn with a cowboy, naked and about to be fucked up against the wall.” 

Adam grinned. “Would it make you feel better if I was just as naked as you?”

“Absolutely.” The word was out of her mouth before she even had time to playfully pretend to think about it. Her eagerness made his grin spread, and he nodded his head before he stepped back and his thumb played at his belt. Her eyes fell down to it just as he tugged it’s clasp free, then left the belt open and dangling as he went for the button on his jeans. Hazel saw it then - the lump that’d grown along his thigh in his Wranglers - and sucked in a sharp breath as he undid the button and tugged the zipper down. He groaned in relief as he released the pressure from his filling cock, and her eyes jerked up to his face to see the way that relief looked there.

Adam’s eyes rolled forward and he pushed his jeans down, one hand flattening on the wall by her head to balance his body as he stepped out of his jeans and boots. He was left looking down at her, his chest rising and falling, green eyes so dark they were nearly black as they pooled over her face. She wondered if his heart was beating as fast as hers was. Surely it was.

His body shifted as he lowered before her, his palms skimming the shape of her body as he knelt. He tilted his head back, gold curls spilling over his broad back, and looked up at her as she tipped her chin to her chest to look down at him. His hands slipped around her hips and into the fat of her ass, squeezing and pushing her toward his face. It brought his Roman nose against her pantyline, and he pushed it harder, exhaling a warm breath over the thin material before he kissed it over her clit. Shivers ran through her body again. Her hands landed on his firm shoulders.

Adam pressed his mouth more firmly against her panties, his tongue testing the material, teasing them as he pushed it between her lips but didn’t give either of them the satisfaction of actually tasting her. The tip swirled around her clit, inspiring more shivers down her thighs. She stuttered on a gasp as she leaned her head back and pushed her hips a little more eagerly toward him. As his mouth teased them both by tasting her through her panties, his fingers released the fat of her ass he’d gripped hard into (likely leaving prints of his hand in her skin) and crawled up toward the elastic of her panties. They curled and he slid them down, pulling his head back enough to pull them free, and she could fill his heavy, thick warm breath against her bare skin.

He leaned in slowly, and that warmth filled more and more of the crevices between her legs and then, languid, he pressed and slipped his tongue from the bottom of her pussy lips to the top, then swirled around and teased her clit. Hazel half-moaned, half-whined as her eyes rolled back and her hips pushed eagerly forward. Adam’s calloused palms slipped back to her ass and held her against his mouth as his feasting became more fervent. His tongue plunged between her folds, his lips latched to her sensitive, raised clit. His fingers gripped, released, and regripped the fat of her ass, pressing the prints of his hands in her skin. He released her clit only for the clever tip of his tongue to flick it back and forth in short, quick strokes, enough to make her take quicker, sharper breaths and release louder, needier moans. Her thighs trembled and he groaned against her pussy, vibrating where she was sensitive and a wet mess of cum and saliva. He held her even more firmly against his mouth and her eyes rolled back, lips hanging open but no sound coming out as she held her breath and reached the inevitable edge…

His tongue slipped off her clit and he pulled back. The air was cold against her pussy. Hazel released a shaking, confused breath and dropped her chin, eyes looking down as he looked up, kneeling between her legs. One of his blond brows was arched, lines wrinkling his forehead. He had a lazy grin, and she nearly felt dizzy when she saw how wet his lips and the beard around them was.

“Oh no, darlin,” he murmured, his voice husky and low as he slowly rose to be that warm shadow over her. “The first time I get you to cum,” his fingers were on her arms, gripping and rubbing up before dipping in and fondling her breasts. His thumbs swiped her raised, needy nipples, “my cock is going to be inside you.” He leaned and pushed his mouth against hers and as their tongues tangled, she tasted herself on him. As he broke their kiss and leaned in to leave a trail along her jaw, his nose in her hair and breath on her ear, he whispered, “I just needed to taste you first.”

One of his hands stayed on her hips, the other reached to shove his boxer-briefs down his hairy thighs. She felt his cock tap her thigh as it sprang free, but didn’t have much time to reflect on how long or thick it’d felt, or even glance down between their bodies to peek. Adam was already shuffling in and, gripping his arms underneath her ass, lifting her up off her feet. Hazel squealed in surprise, her legs forced around his hips as he bullied her back against the wall and used it for further support. She could feel the strength in his biceps as her hands landed on their curve, the muscle tense underneath. Her eyes flew to his and the moment their pupils locked, he slid her down smooth and wet on his cock.

A low moan crawled slowly out of his mouth, pushed inch by inch the more of his cock he sank inside her. Hazel held her breath, feeling the way his girth stretched her, until she was sat sac-deep on top of him. “Adam,” she whined, their gaze had broken when his eyes rolled back in pleasure and they snapped forward - black, not green - and met hers.

“God, Hazel,” his words were tight, his breath stuttered. He readjusted the grip on her body and lifted her up, then sank her back down. His hips pushed in as he carefully lowered her on top of him, enjoying each and every thrust. His eyes rolled back as he shuddered.

Hazel’s hands slid up his arms and around his neck, helping him as his hands gripped the back of her thighs. It was getting harder with sweat smearing over their skin and sticking them together. Her legs jerked with every thrust as they started to grow in speed at an almost reckless pace. He poured moans into her ear, pressing hot breaths into her hair. Those dirty sounds lifted into the tall beam ceiling of the stable and poured out of the open doors at the end of the walkway.

He pressed a kiss against her temple and then stilled, cock buried to the sac inside her. Hazel groaned - God, the way his thick girth stretched her - and rolled her eyes forward, chest heaving with the deep breaths she had to take. 

“I’m going to move us, alright?” He asked in her ear between heavy gasps of his own that stirred her hair.

Hazel nodded, and held a little tighter around his neck, pulling her body toward his as he grunted and moved her off the support of the wall. His cock slipped out of her in the shuffle and she squeezed, instinctively, missing the feeling of him filling her. Using his strong grip, with her legs hanging over his hips, he turned her toward the stalls, moving for the half-door that was still hanging open. It was the last stall she’d bedded down with over a foot of soft, fresh sawdust bedding, and that’s what he slowly lowered her down into, following on his knees. Hazel was amazed at his strength and control, her hands sliding from around his neck and palms pressing down the muscles in his arms.

Adam threw a shadow over her, smiling a lop-sided grin as he pressed his hips toward hers and pried her pussy lips apart with the head of his cock. With a grunt he slid down and pushed in, stretching her around him without enough time passed to grant either of them any sort of sanity. This is where they were now, making love in the stable, only the two of them and no one there to interrupt.

Their eyes locked for a few intimate strokes, her kiss-swollen lips stuck open, with soft little cries falling out of them each time he shoved the head of his cock deep inside her. Leaning down over her, Adam put his weight in one forearm, freeing the other hand to chase down their bodies. His fingers found that already teased little red button and twitched across it as he continued to fill her with his cock. Whether he meant to sync the strokes of his fingers with that of his cock or not, he was soon driving her wild, making her press her head into the give of the stall bedding and her fingers to grab a tight hold on him, wherever she could grab.

“Oh, God, Adam!” she managed to get out between sharp inhales, her brow knitting tight together as the pressure built nearly unbearably high inside her. She was so close...

“MmmHazel,” he groaned near her ear, pleasure undeniable in his stuck-together words. A low breath and then he exhaled a gentle command, “Cum for me, darlin’.”

Another circle of his fingers over her clit, a quick shove in of his cock, and a surprised cry was all that could fly out of her lips before her eyes were rolling and stars burst behind them. Her thighs trembled and clapped his, pressed up under her as they were. Her muscles pulled tight on him, her little cries and the way her fingernails bit into his shoulders more and more evidence to the way he’d driven her wild.

A gentleman, he slowed his thrusts through her pulses, gently rocking with each and clenching his jaw, clearly straining to keep himself from losing it inside her. He slowly pulled his fingers away from her sensitive little button and buried his hand into the gentle give of the sawdust by her head. Hazel’s eyes opened up dazedly on the golden curly haired cowboy above her, and saw his slow, proud smile crawl across his lips. If she wasn’t so out of it, she might’ve grabbed a handful of sawdust to chuck at him for how confident and cocky he looked right then.

“Jesus it took everything not to cum with you,” he murmured, his hips pulling back, then pressing in and starting to slowly fuck her again as he bent and pushed his lips against hers.

“Why didn’t you?” She barely had a voice when their mouths broke apart.

“I’ve been dreaming about being inside you-” he paused to groan as a particular slow stroke of his cock pressing deep inside her felt good “-for months now. Call me greedy, but,” another kiss, and he breathed the last of his words tight across her mouth as he slowly pulled his hips back, “I wanted a little bit more.”

Despite her entire body feeling like it was made out of jelly, Hazel had to agree. She wasn’t ready for their lovemaking to be over, either. Even if she didn’t know how she was even going to manage to stand once they were finally through. Adam readjusted himself, pushing his weight into his hands so he could sit upright between her legs. His palms settled on her wide hips and pinched, pulling her slowly, inch-by-inch off his girth, then tugging her back up. Hazel appreciated the new position, able to look up her naked body at Adam sweating, straining, and grunting as he pulled her up and down his cock. Every thrust made her breasts jerk and she watched his hungry eyes jump from where they were joined, watching his cock buried inside her, to her breasts instead and appreciate how each quick thrust made them move.

One of his hands left her hip and flattened on her soft midsection, thumb settling over her clit. As he circled it, Hazel groaned. She wasn’t sure she could get worked up enough for another orgasm so soon, that last one had been so strong. “Adam…”

That lop-sided grin barely tugged across his mouth again and his thumb left her alone just enough to gently press into her wet, just barely able to wiggle in there with his cock already stretching her. She moaned and he pulled it out quick, returning to her already teased clit. He swept her wet over it, teasing her as he started pounding his cock a little harder and a little faster into her. This time the stroking didn’t match the driving of his hips, but even when she would have sworn he must be close to cumming, he held off, instead continuing to tease her and draw her toward yet another orgasm. Hazel could do absolutely nothing to keep the dam from breaking.

“Adam!” She cried out and jerked over him, her skin slapping his. 

He grunted, still plunging in and out of her, tearing his hand away from her clit. Adam fell back over her, driving his cock inside her in quick, fast thrusts. Only a few inches were pulled out before he was shoved back in, all while she cried and came and twitched, eyes rolled back. She was too sensitive through her orgasm for his fast fucking, and it was just making her cum harder. He grunted, shoved himself sac-deep inside her, and then stilled to stone. 

It didn’t and couldn’t matter the way he had her scrunched and fucked into the layers of sawdust - they were both happy victims to their muscles seizing in their body and electricity rushing through their nerves. Hazel felt the warmth of his cum shooting hard up into her enough to make her cry out when it did. He flooded her cunt, filled her up, and then was a shuddering, almost too-warm weight above her just barely leaning off from crushing her underneath him as they caught their breath.

The last few minutes of their fucking had been so fast-paced, lost in her orgasm, that Hazel’s mind took a few minutes to catch back up. It seemed he did too. 

“That was…” he sighed, blinked and let his green eyes find her face. One of his hands reached up to delicately pluck the sawdust out of her hair, then pushed the lock from where it’d stuck to her face with sweat. His calloused palm fell to gently holding her cheek and Hazel smiled tiredly up at him. She felt at peace. Adam leaned down and softly laid a kiss against her forehead, then slowly one on each cheek, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. He didn’t deepen their kiss, but let it linger in a way that cherished the touch. Only when he broke away from her mouth and their eyes met did he finish the sentence he’d started a little bit ago. “Amazing.”

“Mhmm,” she murmured agreement and leaned up to steal another short kiss, still not able to have enough of him. When their lips broke he sank down, a warmth atop her, and they relaxed again in their joined company for a few quiet minutes. Her fingers traced random circles on his shoulder blades, and he was careful where to lay his weight so he didn’t smother her. He kissed her temple, and gently breathed against her ear. In the distance they heard one of the horses snort.

“We should probably get up and go shower,” he suggested, but didn’t bother moving his body off of her or even pull his slowly wilting cock from where it was still lodged between her legs. “We smell like sweat and sawdust and sex.”

“Sweat, sawdust, and sex. It has a nice ring to it.” She said, but couldn’t help but agree. The longer they lingered in the stall the more the pleasure that’d filled her head was slipping away and the more she could feel the slight uncomfortableness creeping in. The sweat and sawdust now made her skin feel a bit itchy, and she couldn’t deny that she’d appreciate a shower to clean herself of it. “But you’re right,” she sighed and lifted a hand (noticing how many little flakes were stuck on her arm and smiling) to gently run through his blond curls, “a shower would feel nice if I could get up.”

“Come on, come on,” he grunted, slowly pulling himself up from her and gently pulling his still-sensitive cock from between her legs. He reached a hand down to her once he’d stood and lifted her up. A grin split over his face at the shape of her body pressed into the bedding, as did the fact that most of her backside was covered in it. Sweeping a quick hand down her skin he helped shake most of it off, and though she was thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, the caresses of his work-calloused hands still inspired pleasurable shivers.

They gathered their clothes that’d been discarded in the walkway outside the stable, then giggled as they ran like children, hand-in-hand and naked as the day they were born across the yard and into the house.

“Thank God I don’t have any close enough neighbors!” Hazel laughed breathlessly once they were safely inside.

“I bet they would’ve appreciated the sight,” humor in his voice that matched the sparkle in his eyes, Adam was still grinning as he leaned to place a sweet kiss on her forehead, then gently smacked her bare ass with an open palm.

She rolled her eyes, but was still grinning too. 

It was strange that even though this was the first time Adam was in her home, it felt as though he’d been coming here for years. They walked down the hall and to her room, setting their clothes in the laundry basket, then moving for the master bath. Approaching the shower, Hazel turned the handle to start the water, sticking a hand under the stream to test the temperature.

“I wish I wasn’t leaving so early in the morning.” He said, coming up behind her. His hands settled like gentle weights on her hips and he held her there as they waited for the water to warm.

Hazel turned her head to look over at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “Me neither.” She sighed.

“I could always stay…”

“What about the rodeo?”

Adam rolled his eyes and tugged at her hips, pulling her and turning her around to face him. His arms wrapped lazily around her and he tilted his head, chin to chest as he locked his eyes with hers. A slight frown worried its way across his brow. “I’m already guaranteed a spot in the NFR, I can afford to miss a rodeo.”

She didn’t want to compare him to Matt, she didn’t want to do that when it wasn’t fair to do to Matt… but something in her heart that had been hurt by everything that happened between her and Matt lifted at the honesty in Adam’s tone. Still, as amazing as it was to have him, just thinking of Matt threatened to spread a crack across the dam that held back thoughts she couldn’t afford to let loose while Adam was here. As sure as she was that she and Matt were over, Adam was still his friend and was in his life. Regardless of her relationship with Matt, Adam still had one with him, and they’d complicated that by being together.

Why did the man who spoke to her heart in ways she’d never experienced have to be so close to the man she’d fallen in love with? Why couldn’t he have been some stranger she could run away with and not have to face any problems or think of all the ways she could have handled the situation better?

“You already paid the registry fees and trucked Dolly here,” she said with a smile she didn’t quite feel, but hoped he’d buy. “Go to your rodeo, we can pick another weekend to get together.” Then, she added, “Besides, I want to spend time bonding with my new horse.”

At that, Adam smiled. “Alright, alright.” His thumb gently massaged her hip and he bent to place a sweet kiss on her lips, then again on her forehead. He was full of sweet, sentimental touches. It was as if he had to make up for every moment he wasn’t able to offer romantic affection those months and months they hadn’t gotten to be with one another. Was he making up for lost time? Or could he simply not help but keep reaching for her while she was there in arm’s reach?

“The water’s probably warm enough now,” she murmured, still stuck in the warmth in his soft, green eyes.

“C’mon then darlin’,” he sighed and pulled his arms off of her so she could turn around and step into the shower. “Let’s get cleaned up, put the horses up and get something to eat.”

“Mm, that sounds like a perfect idea,” she agreed as the warm jets of water hit her and began to take the dirt and sweat off her body.

They wouldn’t have much time that evening to spend together. Adam needed to leave before the crack of dawn in order to get to the grounds with enough time to register, unload Dolly in the pens and check which bronc he’d be riding and then prepare accordingly. The way the pair of them functioned together honestly astonished Hazel somewhat. They were in such tandem, it felt like this was the hundredth time Adam had stayed the evening with her at her house.

After dinner they cuddled up on the couch with what little time they had, Carson and Callahan lying in their beds and the television on low on a repeat of a show neither of them were paying much mind to. Instead, Hazel and Adam had taken to giggling and talking among each other, teasing each other as they flowed with ease from topic to topic, avoiding anything too deep or painful and simply enjoying one another’s company. Hazel remembered how Adam had told her it was like she was able to say the things he was thinking before he said them and early on, she realized she felt the same way about him. It was like something in their minds just… clicked.

Like they were always meant to be. They had that inexplicable bond. That once in a lifetime sort of thing that couldn’t be forced. It just was.

Eventually as the night wound down she was lying on his chest, dozing softly off to sleep. On the coffee table a phone started to vibrate with an incoming call. Her phone, in fact, lying face down. It gently moved as the vibrations disturbed it from where it sat.

“You’re getting a call, darlin’.” His soft voice gently ushered. He ran a wide palm up and down her arm to rouse her from falling asleep.

“Mmm,” she sank deeper and kept her eyes shut. It was too warm and peaceful here in his arms to pull herself free. “If it’s important they’ll leave a message.”

He chuckled and she felt it rumble in his chest.

“Well, let’s at least head off to bed then. I have to be up in…” he groaned as he reached to get his phone and check the time, “Ugh. Four hours.”

She made a small noise of complaint that she’d have to move, but let him gently encourage her upward so he could slip out from under her. He leaned in and pulled her up to her feet, reaching to grab her phone and setting it in her hand. Hazel grabbed it as she rubbed her eyes and yawned, clicking the power off on the television and stumbling toward the bedroom. Callahan and Carson hopped up to follow, tails wagging, clearly happy it was bedtime.

Adam flipped her comforters back as they went into the room and only once she was securely snuggled up, phone set face-down on the nightstand nearby did he begin flicking off lights and making a careful path toward the other side of the bed. Carson and Callahan jumped shamelessly up and curled in tight little balls at the end of the bed, warming her feet. She thought of shooing them to their beds on the floor, but Adam babytalked them as he got into bed and leaned to give them both scratches behind the ear as he told them goodnight and finally slipped in beside her. It made her smile and then his warm arm came around her waist and he slid her across the bed toward him.

“Goodnight Hazel,” he whispered against her ear, placing another kiss tenderly on her temple. Hazel hoped that soft, loving touch stayed through her dreams to encourage the very kindest of them and that she’d still feel it when she awoke the next morning.

Hours later - though she wasn’t entirely aware of the time - she was stirred awake by Adam’s soft voice. He wasn’t even in bed with her anymore, but standing bedside, bent over and gently brushing her hair out of her face as he talked to her in hushed tones.

“I have to get going.” Regret colored his tone and through the mental fog brought on by sleep, she barely managed to make a soft, disagreeing groan. It made him chuckle and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He stayed near enough that she could feel his next breaths warm across her face. “I know, I know. I wish I didn’t need to go either. I’ll call you when I get to the rodeo grounds.”

“Mmkay,” Hazel agreed sleepily, and then groaned. “Daisy needs breakfast…” It was only four in the morning and she could probably wait for a few more hours, but if Adam was going to be taking Dolly out of the stable a flake of hay to keep Daisy distracted at being alone might be kind of nice.

“You just stay sleeping,” Adam hushed her and tucked her in a little more under the blankets, giving her shoulder a soft rub. “I’ll see that Daisy has food and her water bucket is cleaned out before I take off, okay?”

“Mm… mhm.” Her eyelids were already closing despite wanting to keep them open to look at what she could see of him in the dark pre-dawn light of her room.

“Alright,” he laughed and kissed her forehead again. “I’ll call you later darlin’.”

“Mmkay…” she mumbled again into her pillow. “Be safe.”

“I will, promise.”

She listened to the sound of his boots fading away down the hall, then the door jingle before it softly shut and then silence. She meant to listen to every single sound she could catch, even the far away ones out the window. She wanted to hear clear up to the rumble of the truck starting and the sound of tires on gravel, but before she knew it she was already drifting back to sleep. The sheets still smelled like him and she wrapped her arms around the pillow he’d been using and tucked it in close to her body, pressing her face into it and feeling the way her body relaxed with the next breath she took before sleep had her again.

When she awoke she felt confused. “Adam?” She muttered groggily, inhaling and smelling him before she cracked her eyelids open and looked down at the pillow she was still holding on to. She frowned, reaching to rub the sleep from her eyes before the hushed morning came back to her of Adam getting dressed as quietly as he could and giving her a quick goodbye kiss. A smile melted across her lips, thinking of the evening they’d shared. It wasn’t even the sex she thought of first - though that was certainly worth remembering - but the hours after when they’d just shared each other’s company. Even when they hadn’t been talking, Hazel had felt so complete with him.

She shook her head and laughed breathlessly. How long had it been since she’d felt that open with another man? Matt… She sucked in her breath and opened her eyes a little wider. 

She felt open with Matt and comfortable with him, and when he was with her she felt warm and safe and cared for. But those were the good times, not all these painful conversations and lack thereof that had followed. No, the times she was soft and honest with him and he was with her were what she missed. Or when they could be in-person together, or those late night calls where neither of them wanted to hang up and they just started talking about everything and anything, swapping stories and growing closer. Those days the cocky front of Matt Jackson, Rodeo Champion, slipped away and she saw the gentle, caring, sensitive man underneath. Her heart ached swiftly enough that she felt the need to catch her breath. She missed those phone calls. She missed Matt.

Tears stung in her eyes and she cleared her throat and blinked them away. What right did she have to cry? How could she lie here and miss Matt when Adam had been a warm body in her bed not three hours prior?

Rolling over she reached toward her nightstand to grab her phone, turning it over so the screen would light up and show her what time it was. Notification banners for things she’d missed - mainly social media mentions - popped up, as did one for a missed call. She’d nearly forgotten late last night when she’d been just about to fall asleep on Adam that he’d said she was getting a call.

Missed Call: Matt 💗

Her heart sank and she nearly dropped her phone.

New Voicemail: Matt 💗

Hazel stared at the little red bubble indicating the missed message. Every piece of wonderful paradise the last twenty-four hours had been evaporated almost immediately, taken over by guilt. Was he calling to apologize while she was wrapped up peacefully in the arms of one of his closest friends? Attempting to stop her anxious spiral of thoughts, she realized she could be overthinking. The call could be Matt telling her it was time they talked, that he’d taken the week to think about what they’d said and had decided she was right, he just wasn’t ever going to be ready for a relationship. It could be him deciding they needed to give each other a proper goodbye instead of ghosting each other.

Tears burned in her eyes and she told herself again that she had no right to them or to the way her heart felt like it was being slowly, painfully squeezed. She’d spent the night before with her legs wrapped around one of his closest friends, moaning as he filled her with his cum. How could she now be heartbroken over the thought of Matt calling to tell her they should talk and end it all?

But what if… what if he was calling to apologize? What if he was calling to tell her he’d taken the week to think about it and realized he was being foolish and she was right and there was no reason they shouldn’t be in a relationship now?

There was only going to be one way to know what Matt had been wanting to say. 

She looked at the unplayed message, still looking up at her with it’s little red bubble. Her finger hovered over to bring the voicemail screen up where she could begin to play it and found she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t hit play. Not when every breath still drug touches of Adam into her lungs and she could hear his moans fresh in her ears.

**********

“Hey, Adam! When did you get in?” Nick’s voice carried over the crowd as Adam stopped in step, turning to glance over his shoulder as he watched his friend’s approach. He turned to face him and shrugged.

“A little after eleven. I hit the registry table and got caught up talking with Kenny. Haven’t even unloaded Dolly yet.”

“Well that’s good news,” Nick smiled his characteristic large, happy, easy-going grin. He was wearing a dark brown carhartt jacket over his button-up and it reminded Adam he wanted to go back to his truck to grab his. The days were getting chillier and chillier the closer to the winter months they drew.

“Why’s it good news?”

“We kept one of the pens clear by our boys so Dolly would have familiar company. Matt’s been sitting on the fence this morning keeping anyone else from claiming it.”

“I appreciate that.” Adam said with a grin, though he had to fight to keep it through a sudden surge of discomfort that crawled through him at the mention of Matt. He immediately thought of Hazel.

“It’s no problem. I’ll show you where we’re at so you can bring Dolly over. Come on.”

Adam and Nick fell in step beside one another.

“It’s been good for Matt to have something to keep his mind occupied anyways. He’s been getting into conversations with anyone who stops by to see if the pen is clear or not.”

“Oh?” Adam said idly. In truth he didn’t want to know why Matt needed to keep his mind occupied. He had a sneaking suspicion he at least knew somewhat what it might be about.

“Yeah.” Nick said, and there seemed something briefly heavy in the sigh that followed. “But we’re right over here.” He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket and waved over to where his and Matt’s roping geldings were lounging in one of the temporarily set-up white pipe-fence pens. Beside them was another one, empty and ready for Adam’s mare.

“Hey, Matt, look who I found wandering around the parking lot.” Nick called out as he leaned up against the gate. Immediately his gelding shuffled close, pressing its muzzle into his jacket and whuffing big, warm breaths that made the man giggle. Nick scratched the horse's forehead, ruffling its mane. Adam looked from Nick to Matt or, tried to, but found it was actually hard for him to look at Matt.

His lips pulled in a thin smile he hoped still looked polite and he glanced away. He tried not to notice how troubled Matt’s face looked before he smiled and nodded.

“Morning, Adam. Glad you got here safe.”

“Thanks,” he said and glanced at his boots. “I uh, better go get Dolly.” He said with another tight grin to Nick, hoping no one picked up on how badly he suddenly needed to get away.

As he made for where he’d parked the trailer he found himself getting angry for feeling guilty. Matt never had any trouble with women for as long as Adam had known him. Every rodeo they pulled into it seemed Matt had some pretty little thing hanging off of him and giggling by the end of the night. Adam could be just as lucky too, but all those cute girls with their pretty smiles and admiring stares never really caught his attention. They made him feel nervous and oftentimes the attraction felt empty. 

Then came Hazel, the first woman to make him actually care about something other than his career. Why did Matt have to have eyes for her to? She was beautiful, sure, but she was so much more than that. It wasn’t fair that Matt got to hold on to her like she was something he’d cherish when he got to have any girl he wanted with ease. Plus, he clearly wasn’t doing a good job taking care of her. Adam had felt the way she clung hard onto him when he’d first showed up at her house. And if the tables had been turned and Hazel had asked him if they could date he never would have bookmarked that conversation for later. 

Because the moment Adam had looked in her eyes he’d seen the eyes their future kids would have. The first time their lips had touched he’d sworn he’d heard church bells and the cheers of their loved ones filling the church he married her in.

Adam was sure if he could get Hazel to see how deep their connection was by the time Matt and her talked after the NFR she’d be more in love with him and would tell Matt they wouldn’t work. It was a shitty plan and a shitty thing to do as Matt’s so-called friend, but Adam’s loneliness had made him into something he wasn’t entirely proud of. So be it. He was tired of letting life pass him up because he wanted to do the right thing. No one else seemed to be so worried about doing what was right and they were getting what they wanted. It was finally time for Adam to get what he wanted.

Yet here he was, suffering guilt he hadn’t foreseen. Adam sucked hard at the back of his teeth as he popped the trailer door, carefully unloading Dolly. He rubbed her neck and sighed, deciding he’d do his best to put it all out of his mind that weekend and not act on it. He’d already texted Hazel early on to let her know he’d gotten there safely, and smiled when he got her message back telling him good luck and she’d be watching the live feed of his ride later on.

“That’s what I’ll focus on, eh girl?” He asked Dolly as they made their way toward the pens, her shod hooves gently clipping the dirt and gravel parking lot. Instead of spending his day worrying about how Matt would feel if he found out Adam had slept with Hazel, he’d think about her behind one of the few cameras pointed at the ring. He’d think about her sitting on her couch, cheering him on with her dogs getting hyper at her yelling and starting up a good-natured ruckus.

It made him smile just picturing it.

**********

The rodeo weekend turned out to be a moderate success. He and Nick had run well enough to maintain their leadership spot heading into the NFR, though he’d been distracted and hadn’t done what he knew to be his best. This would be one of the nights he would have talked down about his run just to listen to his friends encourage him with everything he’d done right, or even take their advice if they noticed what he’d missed. He’d refuse to tell them it was because he was preoccupied, but he knew he didn’t need to tell his brother that. After their first run had been less than fluid, Nick’s only words to Matt had been: She hasn’t called yet?

And Matt had felt like he was letting Nick down by having his personal life affect their scores. Still, it wasn’t as if he could help himself. Every waking second was full of Hazel. It was almost torture. He saw her out of the corner of his eyes in the crowd and felt his heart leap and sink all at the same time as he whipped his head to see if he could catch her, only to realize it was someone who just vaguely resembled her.

It’d been wrong to wait an entire week to contact her, but he’d been… Well… He’d been scared. He’d never felt the way he felt for another woman like he did Hazel. He liked women, but not enough to let them take any place in his life beside the rodeo. With Hazel? He was actually considering it. Hell, the way she occupied his mind that weekend she might as well have been there sharing the days with him. 

He’d thought of calling her all week, but the more time passed that she didn’t call him left him wondering if he was making a mistake. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she said he was already hurting her, and how awful that made him feel to know. He didn’t like hurting the people he cared about - the people he loved - even if he hadn’t meant to do so. Maybe her not calling him was supposed to be his hint that she was over what they’d been doing? Maybe it was too late? Maybe he’d already lost her...

But two days ago, late Friday night, he’d finally got up the courage to call her. He’d missed her, and as his heart pounded in his throat and his body felt shaky he listened to the call ring and ring and ring… then click over to voicemail.

When she hadn’t called back right away he assumed she was already asleep and he’d hear from her the next day. Saturday stretched on and on, every time his phone buzzed he jumped thinking it was her, only to feel his heart sink when it wasn’t. He hadn’t been able to sleep. Matt couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way.

By the end of the second day his patience was worn thin. Hurt was quickly turning to anger, especially when he was so adapted to pushing away these feelings in the first place. She wasn’t even going to call him just to tell him she didn’t want to see him anymore? After all they’d been through? This was why he didn’t date. This was why he didn’t let anything go beyond a night with a pretty girl at a rodeo. This was all the stuff he didn’t want to take his focus away from what was important. This was why he let himself have fun and kissed the women who fawned over him after the show, but didn’t bother to keep their names in his phone.

The fact that his and Nick’s runs had been subpar just proved all those points he’d been telling himself all along. He really didn’t need this kind of bullshit.

Not even a text message?

Neurotic, he did what he’d been doing all weekend and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, clicking his and Hazel’s last text messages, seeing they were still the old message, then over to the call log to see he still hadn’t missed any calls from her. Still nothing. 

“Hey there, handsome.”

He frowned at the screen, not hearing the voice that’d been practically right in front of him.

“Hellooo?”

His brown eyes jumped over the top of his phone and down at the cute little cowgirl standing in front of him. She had short brown hair tucked under her cowgirl hat and pretty blue-green eyes that glimmered up at him. If his mind wasn’t so preoccupied by Hazel, he might’ve immediately realized that this girl was damn gorgeous and she was looking up at him with a look he knew all too well.

“Sorry,” he laughed dryly and clicked his phone screen back to black, shoving it into his jeans.

“Expecting a call?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Y-” He cleared his throat. “No.”

“Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes like she was trying to decide if she believed him or not. “You sure you’re not waiting on a call? Maybe from a wife or- well… -” His fingers tingled as she gently grasped his hand and turned it, seeing no ring. “A girlfriend?”

She was bold, he’d give her that.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” The words almost hurt to get out when they used to be so smooth to say.

“Really?” She asked, half surprised, half pleased. “Hard to believe a handsome cowboy like you is single. I saw how good you handled that rope earlier…” She’d gently stroked her finger over the back of his right hand she’d been holding. She gave it a little squeeze before she let it go, a small curl of the edge of her lips speaking to a kind of mischief he was usually all too eager to pursue.

“That’s nothing,” he laughed dryly, “That wasn’t my best performance. You should see how good I normally am.” A little bitter sting at his runs this weekend. He knew he was better than that.

“Oh?” She leaned in a little and he could smell her. Vanilla. Sunshine, despite the fact that it was late Sunday night and there were stars twinkling in the sky above. Nothing like Hazel’s warm caramel coffee and fresh baked goods, which he attributed her smelling like because of her coffee shop. He felt a pang of sadness that the woman hanging on his front didn’t smell like Hazel, then decided that was better and took a deeper breath. The more of her he breathed in, the less of Hazel he’d remember.

That’s what he needed right now. This. To remember who he was and why he did this - slept with pretty women at rodeos and didn’t get attached to them - instead of dating. They didn’t know one another, but he felt like the woman he was talking to understood exactly what she was getting into. Or maybe he just wanted to tell himself that so he didn’t feel guilty about what he was going to do next.

Matt turned his hand so he could hold hers instead of her holding his, then he ran his touch up her arm and slipped his warm, calloused palm on her round cheek. He tilted her face toward his and gave her a smile he knew made most girls weak in the knees.

“What’s your name?” The pad of his thumb skimmed her lower lip and his mouth broke gently apart as his eyes fell to trace the touch. She had the prettiest lips… 

“Josie.” She murmured, his thumb staying with the movement.

“Josie,” he repeated, and his smile deepened. “That’s pretty.”

It was getting easier and easier to forget his pain… or so he kept telling himself. Matt leaned in and slipped his thumb away, holding her face as his lips brushed hers. Guilt twisted in his stomach as, behind his closed eyelids, he suddenly saw Hazel’s face and it felt strange, not tasting Hazel as he kissed this woman he didn’t know.

But she leaned up, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to pull him down closer and their mouths opened, tongues slipping along each other’s and he remembered to stop thinking about Hazel. He kissed Josie harder, dropping his hand to her hip and pulling her tighter against his body. He liked to feel it bounce off his. Surely the more and more turned on he got the more he’d stop thinking about Hazel anyways. He needed to. Hazel had clearly forgotten about him so he needed to forget about her.

She had probably spent the last week with that other guy she’d met. That's why she hadn’t called him back. She was already off with someone else who could be there for her. His fear had become reality.

Matt’s fingers squeezed tighter on Josie’s hips and her excited squeal melted warm in his mouth. A hiss of a laugh out of his nose and he turned them around, flattening her back on the fencepost as he bent his head and kissed her closer. He had to be kissing her hard enough that the coarse hair of his beard was scratching her skin. Her hat had been knocked back and off at their feet, but neither seemed to want to stop long enough to grab it. Matt’s hands slipped from around her hips and dug into the fat of her ass, pressing her even closer to his front. He grunted as she rubbed her leg on his thigh.

“What the fuck is this?” A sudden voice threw ice water over the heat that was stirring up between them.

Matt leaped off her as though touching her burned his hands, turning with wild eyes to see Adam having come around the corner and stopping short, staring at them both. His eyes left Josie and focused on Matt. Why did he look so angry?

“Mind your own business Adam, what the hell do you think this is?” Matt growled and made a conscious decision to step closer to Josie. He didn’t want her to think she’d done anything wrong, so he put a hand back on her hip and pulled her close to him.

“You’re…” Adam shook his head and laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“I’m what?” Now he slipped away from holding onto Josie, turning toward his friend with a frown digging hard across his brow. All the emotions stirred up inside him were leading him somewhere he knew he shouldn’t be. It was like a runaway train and he was helpless to stop it. “Finish your fucking sentence if you’re going to bother interrupting me.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” Adam glanced at the woman next to him, then back at Matt. “What about Hazel?”

“What about Hazel, Adam?” Matt scoffed and took a step toward him. “Where do you get off commenting on my relationship? You don’t even know Hazel, and whatever is going on between her and I is between her and I, you understand?”

They’d drawn in close enough that they were nearly standing nose to nose. Matt had never seen Adam this worked up and it made him even angrier to see it. Since when did Adam have any say in Matt’s relationships?

Or maybe it was because everything Adam was saying was a tangible culmination of the guilt he’d been trying to ignore.

Of course, the fact that he’d feel guilt just made him angrier. Hadn’t he said enough when he’d called her? If she’d listened to his voicemail and chosen not to call him that was all the answer he needed. He didn’t need to sit around moping over it. He was a grown adult, Hazel was a grown adult and even though they’d apparently chosen a messy way to end their almost-relationship, it was clearly over.

So again, what gave Adam any right to comment on it? What right did Adam have to be angry with Matt, anyways?

The tense moments crept by in seconds that felt drawn out into minutes.

Adam shook his head and broke eye-contact first, looking down between them as he smiled and sucked at the back of his teeth. “Whatever, Matt.” He turned and walked away and Matt let him, even though his fist was curled at his side and some rage-fueled part of his brain told him it would have felt good to hit Adam for that look. For trying to make him feel guilty for something he didn’t know or understand.

The quiet permeated the small area as Adam left and Matt half expected when he turned around he’d find Josie had made her exit, deciding her attempt to get a hook-up with him wasn’t worth all this personal drama. He couldn’t blame her, really.

“So, who’s Hazel?”

He was surprised when she spoke up, though his shoulders tensed.

“She’s…” he turned and looked at Josie, who had her brow cocked as she looked at him. At some point she’d bent to pick her hat up and dusted it off before setting it back on her head. “It doesn’t matter who she is.” He tried not to pay attention to the little sting on his heart to say it. “She’s not here.”

“I am.” Josie said boldly with a smile, drawing in closer to him.

“Yeah.” Matt turned to face her fully again and put the anger in Adam’s eyes out of his mind along with all the uncertainties and emotions that came with thinking about Hazel. “You are.”

He leaned down and put his mouth back on hers, deciding he was ready to just forget everything and go back to his old ways. It may not have given him the wholeness he’d felt with Hazel, but it hadn’t given him this kind of pain, either.

**********

TEXT FROM: Rosie

Have you listened to it yet?

Hazel read the message on her phone after tugging it from her jeans. She’d just untacked and cooled Daisy down from their ride, giving her a good rub down before she turned her loose in the arena. Hazel bit at her lip and replied.

TEXT TO: Rosie

Not yet…

She knew she needed to. Late Friday evening Matt had called and left a voicemail on her phone which she’d seen Saturday morning after Adam left. She knew she’d needed to listen to it, but every time she clicked her voicemails and prepared herself, she chickened out. She and Adam had talked a little in text and once on the phone, but she hadn’t told him about the missed call. It already seemed wrong enough that Adam knew about her deal with Matt and everything else, but Matt had been kept completely in the dark through the whole thing.

She hadn’t told Adam she’d tuned in to the rodeo’s live stream early enough to catch the tag roping to watch Matt’s runs, either.

Now it was Tuesday afternoon, with the sunset just a few short hours away. Hazel needed to do the adult thing and listen to the message. If it was Matt saying his goodbyes then she needed to accept the reality that was dealt to her that things were really over between them. She and Adam could begin figuring out how they’d eventually be together and maybe, in time, her heart wouldn’t hurt every time she saw or heard from Matt. 

TEXT FROM: Rosie

Babe…

Hazel sighed.

TEXT TO: Rosie

I know, I know.

Rosie had told her days ago to listen to it and had even gone as far as to offer to listen to it for her. Hazel had appreciated it, but she knew she needed to listen to it herself.

She also knew it was wrong of her to have taken this long. She just wasn’t ready to feel the full brunt of the heartbreak she hadn’t anticipated. She hadn’t even meant to fall in love in the first place.

She almost laughed then, realizing that she’d never even told him she was in love with him and now they were probably through.

Hazel drew a breath and leaned on the arena fence, trying not to think about the day she, Matt, his brother and all their friends had all come together to build it. She shook her head and clicked her phone off her text message conversation with Rosie and to her voicemail screen. Right there on top was his unread message, still waiting for her as it had been for days. Hazel clicked it and felt her stomach drop, lifting to hold the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Hazel? It’s Matt. Listen… I…” His voice was heavy. He sighed. “I know our last call didn’t go great and I know me not calling or texting you hasn’t helped. To tell you the truth I’ve been… I’ve been freaked out. I don’t do good when I’m… well, I’m not used to being scared like this. I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but Hazel, I care about you more than I’ve cared about someone in - hell - forever. I care about you like I care about Nick, except not like - he’s my brother and you… well. You get it. Look, I know I’m not making much sense and I’m having trouble figuring out what I’m trying to say. I had it all in my head and kept practicing what I wanted to tell you this whole week. The thing is, Hazel, I think there’s a chance I’m…” He trailed off and her heart beat so fast she felt sick. “Well… I know I don’t have any right to keep asking you to hang on, and I know you’re right, there’s no difference if we date now or if we date later but… I want to do this thing right, you know? When we… Hell...if we decided to be more official. I want to be there for you full-time, not when I’m preoccupied with the rodeo season. Does that make sense? Maybe it doesn’t… I don’t know. I just… all I know is that I miss you, Hazel, and I can’t stop thinking about our last call. Just… listen… if you still want us to maybe work toward something, give me a call back, alright? I know I’m not perfect and I know I’m pretty terrible at this relationship thing and I know you met someone else and I keep thinking it’s pry better for you to have someone who can take care of you right while I keep making all these mistakes but… damnit, Hazel.” His voice had gotten tight and she realized he was fighting off tears. “I think I’m… I think I’m falling in love with you and that scares the shit out of me. You don’t owe me anything, you don’t even have to call me back, but I really, really hope you will.”

The message clicked and Matt’s voice was gone.

Hazel took a sharp, shaky breath that tasted like tears. The vision of Dolly standing in the far corner of the arena blurred as more tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks, cold as they slipped and fell one after the other to the dirt below.

[deascheck]

A Day in the Life of Sam and Dean Winchester

Summary: Sam and Dean end up in a parallel universe; the Trickster is back at it again. The reader is the key to the brothers getting home.

Word Count: 3507

Triggers: none…?? let me know if there’s a trigger I should have included! I’ll change it!

A/N: Any and all feedback is always appreciated!! Comments, likes, or reblogs welcomed! Thank you thank you to the amazing @that-one-gay-girl for beta'ing!!

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CHAPTER ONE

You headed over to the window, wondering what the weather was like. As you pulled the curtains back a few inches, you saw a dark sky that cast gloom over the earth. Great. A perfect day for curling up with my computer and a good book. Thank God it’s my day off. You walked over to your bookshelf and started browsing, already anticipating a wonderful day to yourself.

You’d say it was about time, too. You’d been working crazy hours for about three weeks. You were exhausted, and the sleep-in you’d just had was only the start of what you needed. Pulling a book from the shelf, you headed towards your favorite chair. It was a big, plush chair that had a lever you could pull and it extended into a recliner. It was old and weathered; your grandparents left it to you in their will. You would never get rid of this chair, or get tired of using it.

As you settled in with a fleece blanket and a cup of coffee, the doorbell rang. God bless… Come on people. I just want a quiet day to myself! You could just feel yourself going into grump mode, so you took a sip of coffee and walked over to the door, mentally getting into your small talk mode instead. You pulled open the door and stared.

“Hi, Y/N? My name is Sam, and this is my brother Dean. We were hoping we could take a few minutes to talk with you.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles were at your door. And apparently they were in character. You couldn’t decide whether to laugh or run and hide. So you opened the door further and stepped aside to let them in. Oh shit, my apartment is such a mess right now.. Shit. That’s it, I’m always keeping it clean. God knows when I’m going to have visitors, let alone friggin celebrities! As they stepped through the doorway, they both ducked their heads and smiled at you, attempting to make you feel more at ease. Clearly the panic was written all over your face. All their smiles did was raise your heart rate.

Once everyone was all situated in the living, and you’d gotten them coffee, you asked, “So, what’s this all about?”

The brothers looked at each other, doing their silent communication thing, and then Dean or Jensen took the lead. “Here’s the thing Y/N. It’s kind of a long story, but the short of it is that we are not from here… and we need help getting back home. You’re our ticket home.”

You laughed. “I’M your ticket home? Ok, come on. I’m willing to bet you’ve never heard of me until today. And you’re actors… So what're you testing me on? Do you need another cast member?”

Sam, or Jared, sighed. He seemed tired. His shoulders were a little slumped and his movements slower than you would have expected. “I get that you think we’re Jared and Jensen. But we’re not. We’re Sam and Dean. We got transported here, a parallel universe, and you are the way we get home.” He looked at you with his famous puppy eyes. “Please, Y/N. Will you help us?”

You stared, unable to comprehend that Sam and Dean Winchester were in your living room. “Give me a minute,” you managed to sputter out, and receded to your kitchen where you grabbed an oven mitt from the counter and started fanning yourself. What is happening? I’m dreaming.. or they’re really truly playing a prank on me. How the fuck do they know who I am? You weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t feel particularly special, with no great talents or hobbies. You were just a simple person, who lived to go to work, and come home; you had no friends. Honestly, you didn't really fit in with anyone at work. You were quiet, and tended to listen more than participate. You didn’t have any witchy habits or any werewolf or vampire characteristics… that you knew of. But if you had any monster tendencies, you were pretty sure you would have been attacked by Sam and Dean, not having them knock on your door and ask you to send them home.

Squaring your shoulders, you sighed, and walked back out to the living room. Sam and Dean were exactly where you’d left them, Sam sitting awkwardly in your non-favorite armchair, and Dean perched on the edge of the couch. They were talking earnestly but quietly.

Sam noticed that you were coming back in the room first, and broke off from the conversation. “Y/N. How are you doing with all of this?”

“Umm… clearly seeing, but still working on believing,” you answered honestly. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable.

“Hey, sweetheart, I know it’s a lot to take in. But I’m gonna need you to believe it, and work on helpin’ us out,” Dean stated, not unkindly.

You nodded and sat in your armchair, grabbing your coffee from the side table next to you. “Okay.” You said with a deep breath. “What do you need me to do? How am I supposed to get you home?”

Sam explained softly, as if trying not to scare you off. He said, “Well, from what we’ve gathered from this world is that you’re ahead of ours. All the monsters have been eradicated by the hunters. We found a Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, and according to the records, you’re the sole survivor of the Legacies. You alone possess the power to get us home. The records said you are in possession of the inter-dimensional traveling spells, for their protection.” He looked at you with hope on his face.

You laughed. “Men of Letters? Here? Monsters? Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

“I told you she wouldn’t believe you,” interjected Dean, rolling his eyes.

You would’ve been indignant at Dean’s tone, except he was right. You didn’t believe him. It was just too preposterous.

“I know, that’s why I brought these,” stated Sam, matter-of-factly. He reached into his beige denim jacket and pulled out a file full of a small handful of documents. “These are the papers that explain about Y/N.”

Unsure what to believe, you hesitantly reached out and took the file gingerly from Sam’s giant hand. You flipped it open on your lap and started to read the first page. Sure enough, it described how you were a Legacy, and how your lineage meshed with the Men of Letters. My grandfather was a Man of Letters?? What in the hell? How did I never hear stories of monsters then? Or hunters? Your jaw dropped as you continued to read. It described how the spells for inter-dimensional travel were kept in a safe room, and the only key was with you. I don’t have a key! I was never even told about a key, let alone the Men of Letters and inter-dimensional travel. Fuck!

Shutting the file after reading the first couple pages, you looked at them with regret on your face. “I’m sorry to let you guys down, but I don’t have a key. I was never told about a key or spells. I don’t even know where the safe room is!”

Rubbing his face with his hand, Dean groaned. He put his hand up to his temple and started rubbing it with a couple fingers. ‘Alright,” he said. “Do you have a family house that you grew up in? One that held multiple generations?”

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded. “It’s about 10 minutes away, in the suburbs.”

The brothers’ faces lit up as they both had the same thought. The house held a secret room. Looking between the brothers, you smirked. You knew what they were thinking, because, well, you were thinking the same thing. What kind of family history were you about to discover?

You offered to drive, so they wouldn’t have to use a stolen car. However, you made them move the one they’d stolen to get to your apartment. You weren’t gonna have cops knocking on your door about no stolen car. Walking to the passenger side of your Nissan Kicks first, you pushed the seat back as far as it could go. Sam’s legs weren’t going to fit in the backseat. Dean’s would probably barely fit behind your seat.

You saw Sam smirk at Dean from the corner of your eye as you walked around to your door. You smiled to yourself. You knew Dean liked being in the front seat- hell, he preferred to be the one driving. Suck it up buttercup. Getting in, you plugged your phone in for Apple CarPlay to come up and went with your “Oldies” playlist. Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Pat Benatar, etc. You figured that’s what they’d like the most, and to be honest, it had been a while since you listened to it, so you were glad to put it on.

As you drove, you could see Dean’s head bobbing to the music. Night Moves, by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band played through the speakers. You couldn’t help but think of the episode in Supernatural where Sam said, “Don’t ‘Night Moves’ me!” The thought of it made you grin.

When you got to the house, you sat in your car for a minute. You hadn’t been here in about a year. The house was yours, left to you by your parents when they’d died in a car crash two years ago. It was paid off before they died, so it wasn’t like you were paying out the wazoo for it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sell it. Now you were glad that you hadn’t.

Sam and Dean waited quietly for you to get out of the car. They could tell something was on your mind, but they weren’t going to push it too much since they barely knew you. Sam did ask, “Hey, are you ok?”

It brought you out of your thoughts with a jolt and you forced a smile. “Yeah! Come on, let’s go in. I own it, so there shouldn’t be anyone there. It’s not my housekeeper’s day to clean.” At Sam and Dean’s questioning looks, you added, “I hired a housekeeper to clean every other week. My parents died two years ago, and once I’d finished handling everything, I couldn’t bring myself to stay here. I haven’t been back in about a year. But selling it is not an option in my book either.”

It was a nice house, a two-story brick house with a porch running the entire length of the front of the house. There were four white pillars spaced across the porch. You smiled. You loved that house. There were so many good memories from your childhood. The lawn looked amazing; you paid a company to keep it manicured, as you liked to call it. You were glad, because you would have been embarrassed if it had had two years worth of overgrowth. The roses and peonies that lined the porch were in full bloom, adding a beautiful touch of color to the house and lawn.

You got out of the car and headed for the side door, which was closest to where you were parked in the long driveway. Sam and Dean trailed behind you, admiring the house. You took your key out of your jeans pocket and twisted it in the lock, pushing open the door. It smelled just like it always had. It was a clean linen type of smell, and you would never get tired of it. The housekeeper that cleaned the house clearly had honored your wishes about the scent plug-ins.

The side door opened to a mud room, which was quaint. It had the washer and dryer on one side, as well as racks for coats and shoes on the other. You took your shoes off before pushing through the mud room door. You entered the kitchen. It was a decent sized kitchen, remodeled by your mom, who loved to cook. The kitchen island was spotless and shiny. You smiled. As painful as it was, it was good to be home.

Sam and Dean respectfully took their shoes off and followed you, eager to see the house. You bee-lined for the family room, which had a massive bookshelf that you were going to start looking for research with. Calling over your shoulder to the brothers who were still taking in the kitchen, you said, “Make yourselves at home. Make a cup of coffee, explore the house. Do whatever you want. I’m going to start in the family room and try to find some books on the Men of Letters or something.”

They yelled a thanks back. You heard one of them start messing with the coffee pot. You grinned. Whichever one it was, was a man after your own heart. Dean walked in, clearly looking for something.

“What are you looking for, Dean?” you asked.

“Oh, I’m looking for a blank wall, or a wall with just a picture or two on it. Something that might be a false wall.”

“Hmm,” you said. “The living room has two walls with pictures, and the study has one wall. That’s it for the first floor. Second floor has a lot of walls with pictures- the bedrooms. And the basement has two walls without stuff against them.”

Dean nodded and went in search of the living room. You could hear him knocking on the walls and you grinned. You couldn’t believe this was really happening. Sam and Dean Winchester were in your house, and they were looking for a hidden room that held secrets you hadn’t even fantasized about.

Sam came out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his hand. “Thank you for the coffee,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome. It’s nice to get some use out of this house.”

Sam looked at the bookshelf. “I’d be surprised if there was anything here. It was a very secretive society; I don’t think they’d leave anything related to it in the open.”

You rolled your eyes at yourself. “You’re right, of course. But, it doesn’t hurt to look. Not a stone unturned, right?”

Sam smiled and nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll go to the basement and start there. Are there any books down there?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a couple bookshelves down there. My dad absolutely loved to read. The basement door is through this room and is the second door on the left down the hallway.”

Sam headed that direction while you scanned the books. You were seeing about every author known to man, with every possible title but nothing that would alert you to the Men of Letters. You remembered the symbol that had been on the papers in the file about you, and decided to re-scan the books to check for that symbol.

Meanwhile, Dean had made it upstairs, still knocking on each wall. He’d taken to knocking on every wall instead of just the bare ones, in case a bookshelf or a desk or dresser was blocking the door to the secret room.

He trampled back downstairs where you were just finishing with your bookcase. You’d even taken some books out and checked them to make sure they weren’t cut out and hiding anything.

Dean came up behind you and said, “No luck on the first or second floor. Where’s Sammy? The basement?”

As he asked, the two of you heard Sam yell, “Hey guys! I found something!”

You led Dean quickly to the hall and down the stairs. The light was on downstairs and Sam was holding a book in his hands next to one of the bookshelves. He held it up with a knowing look on his face. It was the symbol of the Men of Letters. You laughed with glee. “You found it!! Oh thank god!”

Dean immediately strode over to Sam and said, “If that book was in this case, let’s move the shelf and see if there’s a false wall behind here.”

Sam nodded and together they pulled the heavy bookcase away from the wall, grunting with the effort. You were impressed. That was a heavy ass bookshelf. Dean knocked on the wall behind it. It sounded hollow. They exchanged meaningful glances and Sam said, “Y/N, this is probably where we’ll need the key. Do you know where it might be?”

Your heart fell. You’d forgotten about the key. You had no idea where it might be. “Umm there’s a drawer of keys in the kitchen. It’s got keys for everything in the house. Rooms, safes, the house, etc. I guess we could start there?”

Dean stayed behind, running his hands along the fake wall, looking for a way to get through while Sam and you went back upstairs and to the kitchen. You pulled open a small drawer that looked like it was just decorative. “Smart,” Sam said. “I wouldn’t have guessed that that was a drawer.”

You smiled. “Yeah, Dad did that on purpose. It’s the one piece of input he had in this whole kitchen.” You chuckled a little at the memory of when your parents were remodeling it, arguing about the size and placement of various drawers.

Rifling through it, you looked for a key you didn’t recognize. Unfortunately, you didn’t recognize several of them. What kinds of secrets did your dad hide? Your face fell. “I don’t know. There are a lot that I’m not sure of.”

Sam thought for a minute and asked, “Where are your bowls?”

“Next to the fridge,” you answered, confused.

He pulled out a bowl from the cupboard and then grabbed a handful of keys and dropped them in the bowl. “When in doubt, try all of them!” He said with a laugh.

You smirked and grabbed the last couple keys and put them in the bowl. “Alright then,” you said. “Let’s do this!”

Once back downstairs, you noticed a hole where the wall had been. You were glad Sam was carrying the bowl, or you would have dropped it. Your jaw went slack. “What in the world…?” You trailed off, not believing your eyes.

Dean smiled proudly at himself. “The wall had a push spot. I pushed it and it flipped open. But there’s still a door here with a lock, like we predicted. Did you get the key?” His eyes widened slightly at the amount of keys in the bowl when Sam brought it closer, and then laughed. “That’s one way to do it,” he chuckled.

Grabbing the first key, you attempted to get it in the lock. “Oh lord, it’s not even close to a fit. Are there any really small ones? This is a tiny lock!”

Sam fished around and brought out two. “Here, try these,” he offered. You took them from his outstretched hand, ignoring the shock you felt when your fingers brushed his palm.

“No, they don’t fit either. The lock is even smaller than these,” you said in frustration after failing with both keys. You grabbed the locket around your neck for comfort. Your father had given it to you when you graduated college. It was maybe your most prized possession. The only time you took it off was to shower. Whenever you held it, you felt like you could feel his presence.

Dean’s eyes fell on your locket. “Hey, is anything inside that locket?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” you said. “But I’ve never been able to get it open,” you confessed right after. “I’ve also never tried too hard, either. My dad gave it to me when I graduated around seven years ago. It’s very special to me.”

Sam looked softly at you. “May I?” he asked.

Oddly finding yourself trusting him, you looped the locket over your head and handed it to him wordlessly. He inspected the lock on it carefully after attempting to open it himself. His mouth dropped.

“It’s glued shut!” he exclaimed. He took out his knife and very carefully wiggled it to get through the glue. It was rock solid and took him more than a minute to get through it without damaging the locket. It suddenly sprang open; he’d clearly gotten enough off for it to open. A small key fell into his hand.

“Oh my god!” you almost yelled. “I can’t believe it! You got it open!” Sam handed you the key with a broad smile that showed off his dimples. “Give it a try,” he encouraged.

Trembling, you stuck the key in the lock. It clicked. Instinctively, you pushed, and into view came a big room, full of files, books, shelves, a desk and a table. On the wall was a giant Men of Letter symbol. Unable to get any words past your lips, you stepped in, not believing your eyes.

Sam and Dean followed you in, their eyes taking in every inch of the room. They grinned simultaneously and said, “This is how we get home.”

[ariainstars]

Star Wars, the Last 20 Years or Can We Please Try to Stop the Blame Train?

I would like to touch a subject that’s starting to grate on my nerves a little.

Anyone here knows that I disliked The Rise of Skywalker heartily. And I’m not the only person here or elsewhere who tore it to shreds. But I am reading (again) over and over why and how JJ Abrams, Chris Terrio, Kathleen Kennedy and Co. made this mess. Instead of searching for culprits, this time I would like to point out a few things.

I. Star Wars Prequels

Jake Lloyd, Ahmed Best and Hayden Christensen had to endure awful harassment in their time: the audience largely vented their frustration on them because when the prequels hit theatres, they did not get the Star Wars they had wanted. Politics are a dry subject, and young Anakin and the Jedi Council were all too human to be liked by fans who expect coolness in a hero more than everything else; which is probably why Darth Maul is a huge favorite although we hardly learn anything about him and he says almost nothing. Ditto Obi-Wan although he is clearly not suited to train Anakin and it’s him who maims him and leaves him to burn in the lava. (Until I saw the film, I had always assumed Palpatine had tortured Anakin to push him to the Dark Side.) 

The prequels’ messages in general were not liked: the Jedi were not perfectly wise and cool wizards, the Old Republic was stagnant, Anakin was a hot-headed, frustrated young man desperate to save his wife and unborn children. The films do not want to excuse what he did; however they portray him not as a monster but as a human being who was under an almost unendurable pressure for years and years until he finally snapped.

These messages may not be “cool”, but they were realistic and most of all, humane. Portraying the Jedi as well as Anakin as powerful, flawless heroes and the old Republic as a just, prosperous and balanced place would have meant undermining a central theme of the original trilogy: the former generation could not have been all that powerful and wise, else the collapse of their world and the failure of their convictions would not have happened in the first place. It is a sore point, but still twenty years later Obi-Wan and Yoda denied that Vader was human and expected Luke to commit patricide. 

All of this goes to show that the Jedi’s moral standard was flawed and their attitude not rooted in compassion and pacifism the way they claimed. In the end, what they cared about was winning, no matter the cost. In this, they were no better than the Sith.

~~~more under the cut~~~

II. Star Wars Sequels

J.J. Abrams, Kathleen Kennedy, Bob Iger and company were the ones who introduced the Star Wars sequel trilogy and with it its themes, characters, setting etc. to us in the first place: I think we should give them credit where it’s due. Rian Johnson made a very beautiful second chapter with The Last Jedi, but he did pick up where the others had left. 

Kelly Marie Tran made experiences similar to Jake Lloyds or Hayden Christensen’s when The Last Jedi was hit theatres. She was disliked for not being “Star-Wars-y” enough, chubby and lively instead of wiry and spitfire, and also taking a lot of screen time while many fans were impatiently waiting for some grand scenes from Luke and / or Leia. 

That Episode VIII, the central and most important one, was called “The Last Jedi” cannot be overstated. Luke was literally alone with the heavy task of rebuilding a religious order that was gone and destroyed long before he even learned about it, and at the same time he had to patch together his own family and atone for his father’s sins. This is a crushing burden for anyone to carry. It was important both for Rey and for the audience to meet Luke to see that he was a good man, but still just a man.

When Luke spoke openly to Rey about the failure of the Jedi Order, it was the first time he ever spoke about it that we know of; this wisdom he obviously acquired only after his nephew’s fall to the Dark Side. Luke has understood that the ways of the Jedi were wrong; but he does not know a better alternative. Force users are still born all over the galaxy, and they have to learn to use their powers - only how? Again, Luke is not to blame. How is he to know, when the Jedi of the Old Republic had lost sight of Balance in the Force for so long that they didn’t know what it actually meant anymore? 

Same goes for Leia, the princess without a realm, who tried to rebuild the Republic after the galaxy had been terrorized by the Empire and devastated by war for many years. She assuredly did her best, but she was only human. That she failed her son is of course shocking, but after the horror she had to endure at the hands of her own father it is not surprising that she would be terrified of her son possibly going the same way. Ben, like Anakin, was crushed under a legacy and responsibility that was by far too heavy for him. The tragedy of his life and the disruption - and in the end, obliteration - of his family was another proof for the failure of the ways of the Jedi. 

All of these lessons until now were not learned from. But let’s be honest: how many of us come from dysfunctional families? If we do, was getting away from them enough to heal the wounds of the past? Did we find out what to give our children on their way in life, or did we fail them because we had not elaborated the past enough to make way for a better future? Such problems are very common, and to heal them is complicated and takes time. A “happy ending” e.g. in form of finding a new family is not enough, on the contrary, it can lead to wanting to leave the past behind, leaving wounds unhealed that will fester their way through our lives again, sooner or later. Star Wars always was an allegory of the human mind, even if deeply cloaked in symbolism. The saga also abundantly takes inspiration from the Bible, and I think it’s not coincidentally said there that the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children. 

As fans, we would have wanted to see films that cemented the Jedi as guardians of the galaxy, with the Skywalker family right at the center. Which in itself is impossible because Jedi are supposed to remain unattached, making the mere idea of a Jedi having a family absurd. If the prequels told us that the Jedi were flawed, the sequels tore down the myth of the Skywalker family. And both trilogies showed that you can’t be a Skywalker and / or a Jedi / Force user and have attachments and a happy family of your own at the same time. At least, not until now. 

 III. Film production

Many fans of old complained because the sequel trilogy implied that the “happy ending” of the original trilogy’s heroes had not been so happy after all and that after having made peace for the galaxy, they had failed to keep it that way. Other viewers however liked the new trilogy and new characters right away and began to root for them. But they, too, jumped on the blame train when the trilogy had ended: expectations were not met, and now director, producers, script writers, cutters etc. are faulted all over again.

The first person coming up with the idea of Han’s and Leia’s only child turning to the Dark Side was Lucas himself. It always was a main theme of the saga that war separates people who actually belong together, like family, couples or close friends; that is not played for mere drama, but because it emphasizes the absurdity of war.

We as the audience do not know how production went - it is very possible that Lucas approved the general storyline, and there is always a whole team on board. It is not easy to purchase such a large and immensely popular franchise; it was to be expected that if things went not the way the audience expected, the Disney studios would be blamed harshly for having “ruined Star Wars”. With the prequels, at least Lucas was still at the helm; it was conceded that maybe he had lost his magic touch with storytelling, but certainly not that he was trying deliberately to ruin his own creation. And the fans who could not praise the Disney studios enough after The Last Jedi came out, now blame them over and over.

The Disney studios have long-term politics to consider and contracts to observe, and we don’t know their contents. We have every right to be disappointed, but I think it’s not fair to blame one or a particular group of persons who are trying their best to satisfy as many viewers as possible. If they simply wanted to satisfy the average dudebro who sees nothing but clichés, two-dimensional characters and Good against Evil - then why did they allow The Last Jedi to be produced in the first place? The studios obviously are aware that there are fans out there who are ready to look deeper in the saga’s themes, who wish to see the Force coming to Balance, who value family, friendship and love over “victory at any cost”, and who do not place the Jedi on some kind of pedestal.

In a sense, The Rise of Skywalker seems like a bow before The Last Jedi: the weakest chapter of the saga followed one of its strongest. Maybe the authors were aware that equaling or even topping what Rian Johnson had created would be next to impossible, so they patched up the open threads of The Force Awakens together with some fan service hoping to be out of the business as quickly as possible.

In retrospect, the infamous podcast with Charles Soule might also be tell-tale: Soule obviously is not elbows-deep in the saga and largely ignores its subtext. Since his The Rise of Kylo Ren comics are quite well-made, I assume that the general storyline did not stem from his own creativity and that he only carried out what he had been advised to do. The production of the whole sequel trilogy may have happened in a similar way. I am not excusing the poor choices of The Rise of Skywalker; merely considering that one or a few persons cannot be blamed in a studio that has thousands of creative minds on board.

I am still hoping for the next trilogy to finally bring Balance to the galaxy, and also into the fandom. Rian Johnson had negotiated the rights for the next trilogy along with The Last Jedi; I assume it is very possible that there was a clause about intellectual property saying that only he would continue Episode VIII’s topics, nobody else. This would at least be an explanation, given the embarrassing, jumbled mess that Episode IX was.

The overall title of the saga assuredly never wanted to inspire the audience to start online wars attacking the studios or the actors or other fans out of the conviction of being entitled to blame someone else’s worldview. The saga’s message is compassion. Both George Lucas and the Disney studios are telling us their story; the idea and the rights do not belong to us. Harping on “whose fault” it allegedly is won’t bring us anywhere; what we can do is make the studios understand that we’re not too stupid not to understand the subtext, the symbolism and metaphysics of the saga beyond the action story. If they listened to the Last Jedi haters, in all fairness they are bound to listen to us, too. 😊

  IV. Will Ben’s story continue?

My husband already warned me years ago that Ben most probably wouldn’t survive, or at least not get a happy ending. As Kylo Ren he had already been the head of a criminal organization for six years at the start of The Force Awakens, but all of that perhaps could still have been condoned within the scope of war. It was the very personal and intentional act of patricide, the killing of an unarmed, forgiving man, who turned him into a damned person. And after the deed, Ben was aware of it. He knew there was no way out for him, he had gone too far.

Many members of the audience did not understand that Kylo / Ben is not an out-and-out villain and that this narrative ultimately was about his redemption. Bringing him back to the Resistance after the Exegol battle alive and by Rey’s side would not have been accepted; how was Rey to explain everything when she hardly understood it herself? How would the audience have reacted to the former head of a criminal organization, a patricide, suddenly standing out as a hero? Remember how in Return of the Jedi Luke asked Vader to come away with him. Now suppose Vader had complied? It would have seemed (and been) sheer madness. Nobody would have believed neither father nor son that the terror of the galaxy had had a sudden turn of heart. Nobody knew that he was Luke’s father; Luke himself did not know Anakin’s backstory; nobody knew what had transpired between Luke and Vader so far. Yes, Ben was young and healthy, but he still had terrorized the galaxy for years and killed his own father. He knew himself that he was damned and could not go back to normality, as Vader did.

Rey was coded as the heroine: narratively, the sequel trilogy was her story. Ben couldn’t become the hero, with or without her, at the very last moment. She usurped power like her grandfather in his time, the Skywalker family was obliterated the way the Jedi were, she takes over another mantle (Skywalker) the way Palpatine did (becoming the Emperor). Balance in the Force never was truly in the cards, it was only vaguely hinted at in The Last Jedi by the Force mosaic in the Ahch-To temple. Balance is a complex and difficult subject; it would have been extremely difficult to develop it in the sequel trilogy together with introducing the new characters and giving the old ones closure.

However: if Ben is brought back in the next trilogy, his sacrifice for Rey will have been his atonement. If his role this time is not that of the villain but of the hero, it would reverse Anakin’s path and make clear that he no longer is the same man. Vader was redeemed, not rehabilitated. His grandson might still have the chance to go that way.

- Luke had promised Rey a third lesson, and it happened. He also had promised Ben to “see him around”, which has not taken place yet.

- On Tatooine, Rey watches the twin suns setting, same as Luke before he met the other half of his soul (his twin sister) again.

- The studios had said that the sequels would be “very much like the prequels”; the prequels were a tragedy where the Dark Side (Palpatine) won that was followed by a fairy tale where the Light Side won.

- The Skywalker saga is closed, so if Ben comes back it would be justified by his being a Solo, i.e. the story of his own family and not his grandfather’s.

- Given the parallels with Beauty and the Beast, the Beast died before the broken spell brought him back, making him a wholly new person - his past identity, purged and redeemed.

- George Lucas repeatedly said that the prequels and the classics belong together as one narrative, with Anakin Skywalker at its center. First news of the next trilogy came up with The Last Jedi. Since there are strong parallels between Ben and his grandfather, we may assume that this six-chapter instalment will be his; Anakin also was left for dead but came back with a wholly different role and name.

- When Anakin was reborn as Darth Vader, he “rose” slowly from the ground, clad in his black armor. Ben fell to the ground abruptly and shed his black clothes, disappearing. This could be another clue. (It was also already speculated that Leia’s body dissolved exactly in this moment because she gave her life-force to her son for him to have another chance to live. Both Han and Luke had done what they could to atone for their remorse towards Ben; this might be her turn.)

- Much as I love Luke Skywalker, I can understand that Lucas did not see him as the saga’s protagonist. The overall arch is not so much about Luke’s heroism than about Anakin’s redemption and atonement. It is unusual because we expect the story’s “hero” to be the one who kills the Bad Guy; and indeed Anakin is, because he kills Palpatine in the end, the twist being that technically he is also a villain though not the archvillain.

- Ben had promised Anakin he would finish what he started. Anakin had been meant to bring Balance to the Force, and he had started a family. Until now, Ben did neither.

- If Ben and Rey are a dyad, i.e. one soul in two bodies, then Rey is in urgent need of her soulmate for her future tasks. She has her friends of course, but none of them gets her the way he did.

So, I still see reason to hope for a continuation, and, hopefully, satisfying conclusion of The Last Jedi’s themes.

  Film production: on a side note…

In the Nineties, Kirk Wise and Gary Trousdale were the directors both of Beauty and the Beast and Atlantis: two more different stories are hardly imaginable with regard to everything - drawing style, setting, characters, development, music etc. This outcome can’t have been only due to the director’s choices, there must have been a wholly different idea behind both films right from the beginning. Just saying.

[himbowelsh]

(Sorry if you're not comfortable with this I'm fairly new to the fandom so pls ignore if you are) Headcanons that include the BoB guys falling in love, mannerisms and speech and such?

Richard Winters

keeps it to himself.  when dick is falling in love, neither god nor man would be able to tell, he plays his cards that close to the chest.

(or course, lewis nixon is neither god nor man, just somewhere in between. he figures it out in a second, and teases dick mercilessly.)

lots of lingering stares, gentle half-smiles, more patience than he would  ---  or possibly should  ---  have.  dick falling in love gradually becomes more and more tolerant of things he would disapprove of in anyone else.

the sort of person who just...  becomes so unbearably fond of someone that their flaws seem insignificant.  there’s nothing he can’t forgive, nothing they can’t work past together.  he loves everything about them, even their worst parts, at least a little bit.

basically he’s just normal dick, nothing has changed, except...  he’s a softer version of dick.  soft dick all over the place.

Lewis Nixon

he’s...  not very subtle about it, but in a very nix way.

his flirting is obvious.  like, it’s obvious to anyone looking in his direction.  he’s not subtle about it; and while he’s capable of being smooth, he’s also kind of earnest, devoting so much of his attention to his person of interest that he’s able to ignore everything else.

such as responsibilities.  when he’s supposed to be somewhere, and he’s not there, 100% chance nix is with his crush.  when he’s in love with someone, he just wants to be around them as long as they’ll tolerate him; he practically becomes their sardonic shadow.

lots of gifts.  like, things just appear in the person’s rooms, complete with a wry little note from nix.  he never makes a big deal out of it, but he compulsively buys his love interest things when the opportunity arises.

allows himself unexpected moments of sincerity  ---   like a mask slipping for just a moment, when his guards are all down and he’s able to be honest with the one person in the world he’s actually brave enough to reveal himself to.  

when nix loves someone, he slowly allows them to see the messiest parts of him  ---  because he knows he can’t hide them forever, and it’s easier for them to know from the get-out than to stop loving him down the line.

Carwood Lipton

so chill about it, you honestly wouldn’t be able to tell.

lip isn’t even a super private person like dick, he’s just...  able to fuction normally, even when his heart is doing a complete 360-degree flip over someone.  he treats them the same way he always has, doesn’t fawn over them of go out of his way...  he’s just regular old lip.

except for the lingering stares, and the fond smiles he doesn’t bother to suppress.  except for how he’s always got an eye on them, just...  making sure they’re alright whenever he’s around, in case they need something.  except for the fact that if they do need something, he’ll go out of his way  ---  maybe to an unreasonable degree  ---  to get it.  he’ll drive three towns over just to get them a specific ice cream brand they’re craving.

which is out of character for lip, but he’ll do it, because it’s them.  he’d go out of his way for any one of his friends, but wouldn’t move mountains except for this one person.  they’re special to him.  somehow, without him even realizing it, they mean everything to him.

Ron Speirs

well, he didn’t mean to catch these feelings, but now that they’re here he’s just going to have to murder everyone who’s ever looked at his partner wrong

no.  okay, ron...  ron does get a little overprotective at times.  he’s good at being in love, but falling in love is unpredictable.  it’s unsteady, it’s uncertain, anything could happen  ---  his protective instincts are triggered. so when he finds himself falling for someone, he keeps a constant eye on them.   they don’t ever need to worry as long as he’s around; they don’t need to be afraid of anything.  honestly, it can get a little too intense, if he lets it.

if ron recognizes he’s being too overbearing, he’ll back off.  pining from afar is also something he’s surprisingly good at.  gentle stares from across the room, half-smiles at things they say, wry comments meant for their ears alone.  if he can be comfortable in silence alongside them, it’s a big thing for him.

love letters.  this is a big thing.  ron’s not always great at expressing his feelings verbally, so he finds a real release through writing.  this really helps his love interest understand where he’s coming from, and get to know his heart clearly.  when ron bares his soul in prose, it’s difficult not to fall in love with him.

Harry Welsh

eager beaver.  like, he’ll bounce at the chance to do anything for them at any time.  oh, that bag looks heavy, he can get that!  he’s just gonna...  casually hold this door open, you know, like a gentleman.  paying for their own drinks?  oh no, don’t worry, he’s got it covered.

the worst part is, he thinks he’s slick.

can actually be the softest man in the world when he’s in love; he’ll absolutely dote on a partner.  

some of the guys here are actual disasters, they don’t know how to even admit it to themselves  ---  not harry.  when harry’s in love, the whole world gets to know it.  he’ll talk about how great they are to anyone who’ll listen; and if he and his partner are on the same page, he’ll tell them he loves them every chance he gets.  there’s never any question to how harry’s feeling, because he says it.

heart eyes for his partner at any and all times, even when they’re doing something as mundane as reading a book.

Buck Compton

he just glows whenever he’s around them.  it’s not something buck can help.  it’s like...  being in his partner’s presence gives him more energy, more vitality, the drive to do and be more.  he’s fueled by their attention and the desire to impress, to be worthy of them.

not reticent about his feelings.   he’ll freely admit them, but it won’t be, “yeah, i love them”; buck will go on about how much he admires them, talking people’s ears off about their abilities and virtues.  if buck falls in love with someone, he already holds them in the highest esteem, and honestly wants to be able to blab about how great they are.

people don’t give him credit for how emotional he can be; but once he’s fallen for someone, he opens up to them more and more.  it’s a challenge to reveal his vulnerabilities without being afraid, but as he grows to love them more, he trusts them too.

George Luz

if possible, he becomes even more luz-ish than normal.  like...  his regular personality is turned up to eleven.  he craves his love interests attention like a drowning man craves air, and he goes out of his way to seek it out.

lots of flirting, lots of teasing.   if they’re around, most of his jokes are directed towards them, like it’s a battle just to make them laugh.  it’s painfully obvious where his attention is.

yeah, he’s joking around a lot, and maybe flirting a bit too much to be casual, but...  he’s also looking out for them.  if they need help with something, he jumps at the chance to do it.  any favor, any time, george is ready.

he also likes to teach them things.  something as simple as a card game, or how to fix a broken sink  ---  it gives him the chance to show off his skills a little, try to impress them, prove he knows what the hell he’s talking about...  and just to be around them.  he eats up every second he gets to spend with them.

sometimes he gets flustered.  if they’re not in a relationship yet, and his love interest were to question him about his feelings, he wouldn’t know what to say; he’d run a hand through his already-messy hair, chuckling while averting his eyes, and try to brush the question off with a charming deflection.  it wouldn’t work.  he’s lots of things, but not subtle.

Joe Toye

joe toye is so capable of being soft around the people he loves that it’s frankly obscene.

he definitely becomes more protective of them.  like...  love is already an uncertain thing, he doesn’t want to lose it when they’ve barely just begun...  and he’s never forgive himself if something bad happened to them.  Protective Toye Mode is in full gear.

has infinitely more patience, and is able to let his guards down around them more.  he jokes around more, in his understated way.  he watches them when they’re too busy with work to look up, a proud smile on his face.  sometimes he can’t resist reaching out and touching them, surprising even himself.

he’s so soft, guys.  he just wants to be around them and take care of them  ---  honestly, he’d do anything for them if they let him.

Eugene Roe

honestly, he’s not sure where to start.

it doesn’t blindside him.  getting close to people doesn’t come easily to gene; it’s a slow process, and he’s aware ever step of the way that this person is steadily growing in importance to him. it takes him a little while to recognize it as love, but once he gets there...  yeah.

he’s cautious about it  ---  tries as hard as he can not to let it show.   being in love is kind of scary for him, actually.  he’d really need encouragement from the other person, and the feel comfortable around them.   he’d need to see there’s interest there, otherwise he might actually talk himself out of his own feelings.   (jesus christ, gene, why are you like this)

quietly so proud of them, and quick to praise.  his sweet little smile makes his love interest feel warm all over, and when his eyes go soft and unbearably fond like that...

gene’s love is a quiet thing, but it blossoms more every day.   it needs sunlight, nourishment, and kindness to grow.

Bill Guarnere

literally his partner’s hype man.  they are amazing and he wants the world to know it.

like, bill in love isn’t that different from regular bill, but he gets invested.  he becomes ride-or-die.  would murder someone for his partner without question and bury the body together as a sign of their love.

definitely a show-off.  yeah, his partner’s incredible, but he wants them to think he’s just as cool.  bill might get a bit more reckless in pursuit of their attention, push his own limits (and the limits of common sense) a bit more.  his love interest shouldn’t let him go too crazy, because he might end up losing another leg.  

he may still be regular ol’ guarnere, but wild bill ain’t cooking a four-course authentic italian dinner for just anybody.  bill’s romantic side starts coming out in spades.  he feels more compelled to take care of them, do stuff for them.  it gives him a sense of usefulness; he loves feeling needed by them.

Babe Heffron

cheesy pickup lines x1000.  the worst part is, he thinks they’re actually good.

babe’s actually functional when he’s falling in love with someone.  honestly, he enjoys the feeling.  falling in love’s a beautiful thing!  almost as beautiful as the person he loves!  let’s enjoy it while it lasts.

he’s not shy about flirting with them, but can actually act like a normal person, too.  he doesn’t get all tongue-tied and stuttery; he just loves talking to them, having conversations and spending time with them and sharing his own interests while learning their own.  eats up every bit of attention they give him.

lowkey wants to do so many things with them, but plays it cool.   invites them places, like out dancing, to his favorite restaurants, anywhere they might have a good time.  by sharing these memories with them, babe feels like he’s sharing parts of himself, too...  and god, it sure is fun to be in love.

Joseph Liebgott

what are these feelings and who put them there without his permission

lowkey, he’d choke on the love at first.  probably think it was indigestion or something, hope he’d get over it...  but the feeling would only grow, and slowly joe realizes he’s in over his head.  there’s no way out.  somehow, he’s fallen in love, and he wasn’t prepared damn it.

plays it cool.   he’s not in any hurry to admit his feelings; he knows, and that’s what matters most.  he’s not gonna confess to anything until he thinks there’s a strong chance they’ll reciprocate, so he just...  hangs out for a while.

somehow, when his love interest needs something, he’s there.  it’s like joe’s got a spidey sense for when they’re in trouble  ---  even if they just need help opening a damn jar of pickles  ---  because he’s at their side, ready to talk or fight, whatever’s needed.

doesn’t snap around them as much.  actually, he has moments when he’s downright...  soft.  it’s like all his harsh edges are being sanded down; he even lets his guards down sometimes and reveals flashes of emotional vulnerability, which he wouldn’t do for just anyone.  joe liebgott being soft  (when no one’s mortally injured)  is the #1 indication he’s caught the lovebug.

David Webster

he’s not...  unbearable about it.   it’s kind of cute, in a “romeo pining for juliet from the shadows outside her window” sort of way.

webster is very quiet about falling in love.  he...  watches a lot, just observing whenever he has the pleasure of being around them.  he notices all their habits, all their quirks, and can’t help finding them all endearing.  even if it’s habits he usually hates, like talking while chewing or mimicking someone badly...  he gets a little love-blind for a while.

won’t talk about his feelings to anyone, but will write them all down.  his journal reads like he’s a 7th grade girl with a crush.  sometimes he tries to get really poetic, and express the true nuance of his soul being drawn towards a kindred spirit, but he can’t formulate his thoughts as well in the moment.

they become his muse, at least; he can write better when thinking of them, and might even be bold enough to share some of his writing, just to see their reactions.

not about to write love poems himself, but he knows a few beautiful ones offhand, and will share them with his love interest  ---  a subtle way of confessing his feelings to them through proxy, and sharing something special between each other.

Floyd Talbert

tab’s flirty by nature, but when he falls in love with someone...  all that confidence slowly melts away.   he no longer has any desire to present a facade to them, because he’s not trying to woo anymore, he’s trying to love.

he becomes more straightforward and serious around them.  he’s still his normal self, but there’s an earnest sincerity that wasn’t there before.  he’s not making any attempts to impress them.  he is how he is, after all; if he loves them for themselves, they’ll have to love him the same way.

(he can’t breathe a genuine sigh of relief until he’s got affirmation that they do.)

no more super fun, casual dates.  now tab wants to go for long nature walks and talk about their emotions.   he wants to learn more about his partner, to see the parts of them they’re scared to reveal.   nature is also something important to him, and he wants to share that part with them.

floyd in love becomes...  a more genuine version of himself.

Donald Malarkey

a really nice guy, and not in a gross way.

don’s just...  a nice guy in general, but when he’s falling in love, he’s at peak sweetness.  he gets them gifts just for the fun of it, tries to write songs for them  (well, he does his best), and comes up with dates centered around all the things they love to do.  he’s uber considerate, and really sweet about it.

don’s honest with himself about his feelings, and he’s willing to be honest with anyone else as well.  far as he’s concerned, being in love isn’t anything to be ashamed of, especially not with someone so amazing.

the corny jokes will probably be turned up to the max, though, and they’ll be a lot of playful flirting just to see his partner’s reaction.  don dotes on them, but most importantly, he knows how to have fun when it comes to love.

Skip Muck

kind of a tease, but in the best way.  skip isn’t great at flirting when he really means it; there’s a difference between batting his eyes at someone across a dance hall and falling in love, and skip in love feels like he’s in over his head.

he’ll joke around with them a lot, but also kind of fall into a big-brother role  ---  looking out for them, helping them, showing them how to do things if they’ll let him.  

he feels comfortable acting this way, like he’s significant to them.   even if they don’t feel the same way, he enjoys having their attention on him for the moment, and cultivates it.

will definitely have cracks in his armor.  honestly, when he falls in love, he’s not that subtle about it.  suddenly, he can no longer make dirty jokes around them; he can’t pretend to flirt without blushing and tripping over his words; he catches himself watching them for too long, and idly humming love songs after they’ve just left the room.

god, he’s a wreck.   he feels like an idiot around them, and doesn’t know how to deal with it...  so eventually he’s just going to have to come right out and say it.

[marveloussupernerd]

Halloween Bash - Jaehee Kang

Hello and welcome to spooky season! For the next week I’m going to post a Halloween one shot every night. I random number generated the post order, prompts, and other little details about it, so I’ll be including those at the beginning of the story

Prompts: RFA party, bobbing for apples, stay all night

Summary: the RFA is throwing a little Halloween bash for its members. You and Jaehee dress to impress

You and Jaehee had put a lot of thought and effort into the RFA Halloween party. Rika had done it once before in the past and you wanted to bring it back and hopefully make it a fun tradition. You planned to have a costume contest, bobbing for apples, and the Monster Mash on repeat.

Jaehee had left the costumes up to you. It took you a while to find good costumes (there were a zillion Hetero couples costumes but you really struggled to find something creative for the two of you), but when you saw it you knew it was perfect. Of course, you couldn’t both win the costume contest, but you definitely wanted to match.

You walked into the coffee shop where Jaehee was hanging a streamers, and plopped the costumes onto the table next to her. “Are those the Scooby Doo characters?” She asked, glancing down at the costumes then focusing her energy back to the task at hand.

“Velma and Daphne! Jaehee, don’t tell me you didn’t know their names,” you sighed, plopping onto the chair next to her.

“I actually did watch Scooby Doo as a kid, but it’s been a while,” she smiled. She stuck one more piece of tape then carefully got off the chair she was standing on to sit next to you. “I think it’ll be quite cute.”

“Oo! I also got this hairspray stuff for you that temporarily dyes it orange. It might be kind of unnatural but-“

“You want me to be Daphne?” She cut you off, her eyebrows raised skeptically.

“Duh! I think you’d look really nice as her. Why? Would you rather be Velma?” You glanced down at the costumes. Fortunately you two were nearly the same size.

“No, I just. I don’t know... I assumed you’d want me to be Velma. I did look a lot like her...”

“Yeah, because Jumin made you. You look so beautiful now and I want you to embrace those changes! Putting on a short wig and glasses would do the exact opposite.”

She leaned across the table to grab your hand. “Thank you. I don’t think you understand how much that means to me.

“Of course. Now if you’re done with the decorations can I help you do the hair?”

“I set one banner up...”

You looked around. Huh. She was right. “Whoops. Got so excited I didn’t even notice that. Let me help you set things up first then.”

The two of you were an excellent team, obviously, and made quick work of setting up the decorations. Jaehee had splurged on some nice decorations. Lots and lots of pumpkins and pumpkin banners (to go with your pumpkin treats you had made ahead of time) and even a very realistic cauldron for the bobbing for apples game. Granted, her decor was very mild and not scary, spare one thing she splurged on. She set up one of those spiders that jump out at you when you walked past it, then put it by the entry.

“Jaehee... I didn’t know you were so diabolical...” you chuckled, putting batteries in the machine to get it running.

“I just want to see Mr. H- I mean Jumin, jump. He has a fear of spiders you know.”

“I’ll be sure to get it on camera,” you winked at her.

The next step was getting all dressed up. You started with the hair dye, which blended surprisingly well with her now-long hair. It wasn’t too neon, but enough that you could tell she was now a redhead. You helped her with some winged eyeliner, as she had never done a wing herself, and some sparkly pink lipgloss. Once she was all dressed, you took a step back to admire your handiwork. “Jaehee, you look kinda hot,” you complimented, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed.

Her cheeks shot red from the compliment as she worked hard to look anywhere but your eyes. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“No, I think you look exactly like her. Now will you help me get this wig on?”

Turns out getting a wig on is a two, probably three honestly, person task. Especially with your baby hairs that kept falling out of place. Luckily, Jaehee helped you fix it until it was absolutely perfect. You got all dressed next. “What do you think?” You asked, doing a little spin.

“They really didn’t include the glasses with the costume?” She asked, turning the bag upside-down to ensure you hadn’t missed anything. “Huh. Well, luckily for us I think I still have my old pair.”

Jaehee disappeared to the back. You heard a lot of rustling through drawers before she came back victorious. “No prescription or anything, just regular frames.” She carefully put them on your face. “Perfect. Now you look the part.”

You opened your phone camera to check your outfit. “We look GOOD! Best couples costume ever.” You glanced at the time. “And just in time too. We’ve gotta get to the front so we can see everyone get scared by the spider.

Jumin and Yoosung arrived together, no surprise since Yoosung was still his acting assistant. Jumin jumped slightly at the spider, but it was nowhere close to Yoosung, who backed into Jumin so quickly that he knocked the both of them over. You and Jaehee couldn’t contain your laughter, not making any movement to help them up.

Luckily there were no injuries, as the two got up relatively fast and made their way over to you. “Oh Assistant K- I mean, Jaehee,” Jumin said to you, “Some days I miss you more than others. And this is definitely one of those days.” He obviously did and didn’t mean it at the same time; he was teasing Yoosung. But oh! More pressing matters at hand.

“I’m not Jaehee,” you giggled. Jumin’s mouth fell open in shock. Obviously you were right; your voices were quite different, but you really pulled a fast one on him.

“Forgive me. I just thought... well, what are you two anyways?”

“You don’t know? They’re from Scooby Doo!” Yoosung yelled, very surprised that Jumin didn’t recognize it.

“Scooby huh?”

“Scooby Doo! It’s a kids show. You’re... more hopeless than I thought,” he said sadly.

“You two look nice! Frankenstein and his monster. Very creative.” You complimented them.

The conversation was halted when Zen walked in the room, bumping into the glass door as he jumped away from the spider. You all laughed this time.

Zen was quickly followed by Seven and V, who were not shocked by the spider at all. Figures. Zen was a vampire, V was dressed as a pirate, and Seven was... oh god why was he in his maid costume.

“You all look nice!” Jaehee complimented. “Let me get some music on and then we’ll start everything up.”

“Jaehee, that’s you!?” Zen exclaimed. “You look great!”

“Thanks!” She called. The Monsrer Mash started playing. She made her way back to the group. “Although it wasn’t exactly my idea.”

“I am a genius, I know.” You commented, accepting your praise. Jaehee hit your shoulder playfully and you got the party started.

The activity of the night was bobbing for apples. Was this a good idea? Probably not. But it’d be fun. You got to man the station and time how long it took everyone to get their apples. Jumin took the longest... literally over three minutes because he didn’t want to hurt his teeth. Zen was the quickest, trying to make sure he beat Jumin, which was not challenging to do.

Jaehee finished her turn and got right in the middle of the times. Her lipgloss was smeared down her face. “You know, maybe this idea had a few flaws,” you giggled, grabbing a paper towel to help her dry her face off. You very gently patted her face dry, using your finger to gently wipe the lipgloss away. It was strangely intimate and the two of you were both flushing messes, despite the fact that you were literally dating. No makeup problems for you though! The only issue was that the glasses fell off in the water, traditional Velma style, and the game became bobbing for glasses.

Zen’s prize for winning was a caramel apple designed to look like a pumpkin. Pretty creative from you and Jaehee to be honest. He rubbed it in Jumin’s face nonstop, and you figured he would for the next year until the next contest.

When it came down to voting for the best costume, it was no surprise to read out the results. Everyone had voted for Jaehee. There was one vote for you of course, because Jaehee was a supportive girlfriend and would NEVER vote for herself. Even Seven didn’t vote for himself which was, honestly, quite a relief. You were proud that her costume was so good Seven considered it better than his “Mary Vanderwood III” getup, whatever that meant.

Jaehee’s very special prize was homemade chocolate and pretzel bark the two of you had made the other night. Honestly, you were glad she won because it was so good and she would share it with you.

The two of you stayed all night. You sort of had to, considering it was taking place at your coffee shop. But you had a great time dishing out (non alcoholic) drinks and pumpkin cookies and candy.

You played pin the stem on the pumpkin (which V actually won, which honestly should not surprise anyone) and spent most of the time hearing everyone complaining about the Monster Mash playing for the fiftieth time. It wasn’t your fault. There weren’t that many Halloween songs and this one was Jaehee’s absolute favorite.

Once everyone left, the two of you plopped down on the sofa in the corner of the shop. “I’m so tired,” Jaehee groaned, resting her head on your shoulder and propping her feet up. “You sure we can’t just sleep here tonight?”

You laughed, chest shaking as you giggled, causing Jaehee to shift slightly. “We still have to open tomorrow at 6. And as much fun as it sounds to stay the night here, I’m worried your hair will become permanently orange if we don’t wash it out.”

She let out an exhasperated sigh, standing up and taking your hands to help pull you up. “Okay, but only if you help me wash it out. I’m too tired, and I don’t think I’ll be able to get the back.”

You winked at her. “Sure, whatever you say, Jaehee.”

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Tour Mom Chapter 2

A/N: Alright I’m having fun with this so I’ll just continue it. My MCR fic isn’t as good as my other ones, but I’m assuming it’s because I’ve never worked with this set of characters before. It may get better over time. Hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Gerard with a little MCR x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2041

You were extremely proud of Gerard. Post-Black Parade the guys took a break. They wanted to figure out how to redefine the band, moving away from the “traditional” MCR, that being Three Cheers and TBP.

You of course, helped Gerard. Just like your helped the boys with their first three albums. It wasn’t much, but altering some lyrics here and there to make their songs more elaborate and more descriptive. 

They had already written and recorded a few songs in the process of establishing the storyline of the Killjoys, which Gerard pitched to you during the last tour. Everyone jumped on board, besides Bob. So he left.

Additionally, in your personal life, you and Gerard were expecting. By that, of course, meant you were pregnant. To be honest, it wasn’t planned at all. You and Gerard had talked about kids in the past. Never too seriously, but enough to know you wanted at least one in the future. The timing wasn’t on point for the expansion of your family, but you two happily accepted it.

And then there came the fact that you weren’t married. While Gerard’s family didn’t mind it, your family kind of did. With your parents having divorced when you were younger, they of course had drastically different views. Your dad had always really like Gerard, and was more than happy for you two, understanding that marriage was something you wanted to do on your own schedule. Your mother on the other hand, was “disturbed” by it. While you didn’t totally care, a part of you was crushed by this.

But of course, Gerard helped guide you through it, reassuring your own little family would be just fine, whether or not your mother necessarily approved of it all. This brought you peace of mind of course.

Gerard also bought you two promise rings. It was almost like an engagement, just something saying he promised he would love you for everyday until you two officially got married and renewed those vows officially. And you of course promised the same.

What was most concerning was the potential for your depression to come back during and after the pregnancy. Your therapist and psychologist had some worries, as well as how your antidepressants would affect your pregnancy, and the potential of your hormones changing too much.

“I don’t know, Gee.” You sighed as you two discussed what to do with it all, “I don’t want to risk the baby, but I don’t want to risk myself.” He nodded.

“You’ve made so much progress,” He grabbed your hand, “It’s really up to you.” “Yeah, but it’s our child.” He nodded.

“Maybe continue on them,” He told you, making eye contact of course, “And please, talk to me about how you feel. If you’re not doing well you need to tell me, okay?” You nodded. You and Gerard were always extremely open about your mental health to one another, so of course you would tell him.

And that led to a long and turbulent pregnancy. You were glad the band had taken a break to be honest, that way every day Gerard could be at home with you. Of course he took the occasional day to go in and record, or to have a meeting, but most of the time we he was with you.

Everyday it got increasingly harder to do things like make your way up the stairs, clean up, even making dinner which was usually one of your favorite activities but became a burden as the bump grew. Gerard was empathetic as always though, helping you with every task he could. Not being too touchy or too obsessive, but just when you needed it.

“I got you,” He told you as he helped to swing your legs onto the bed. The third trimester was by far the hardest. The bump was large, and managed to grow even bigger everyday.

“Yeah,” You huffed, “I know.” You finally sighed in relief as you laid on the large king bed, getting under the covers and in a semi-comfortable position before you would have to switch again in another hour or so.

“You alright?” He would ask every night before the two of you feel asleep.

“As good as I can be for a pregnant woman.” You would answer. He would just lightly smiled, “I just want her to pop out already.” He nodded.

“I love you.” He said, rolling over to face the other side of the bed.

“Love you too.”

And flash forward just a few weeks, you sat painfully in the delivery room after your water broke while making lunch, Gerard by your side, unless you began violently cursing him out for putting you in your current situation, in which he would walk away for a few minutes, usually out of the room to give you breathing space.

Thankfully as well, your childhood best friend was there to assist when Gerard took his break. Y/B/F/N would sit next to you, holding your hand as your painful contractions came and wouldn’t stop.

“You’re ready to push, Ms. Y/L/N.” One of the nurses told you. And so Gerard was called back in to sit right next to your hospital bed, holding your hand as your screamed and groaned in agony and pain.

“You’re doing great.” He would tell you, giving you light kisses on the top of your head. “Just continue, sugar, and you’ll be all good.”

After a two and a half hour labor, you both heard small cries and most of your pain ceased. You were immediately handed your daughter, and all her seven pound self. And you instantly fell in love with her.

Gradually, after you and Gerard, who cried, got some time alone with her, family and friends were welcomed in. “Arden Lola Way.” You said aloud, the final name you and Gerard had decided on, “She’s incredible, Gee.” You told him, showing her off. Despite her little eyes being closed, her fingers perfectly wrapped around her fathers, and her little noises made your heart explode.

“I know she is.” He smiled, “We made that.” “We did.” You smiled even more.

Gradually the waves of people came in to greet you. It started out with your dad who was more than excited to hold his first granddaughter in his arms, and you could’ve sworn if it wasn’t for the line of other people wanting to hold her, he wouldn’t have let go.

Gerard’s dad came in next, along with Mikey. And surprisingly, Mikey too fell in love with your little girl. He seemed a little nervous holding her at first, but lightened up soon.

However, you were already worn out, and were extremely tired. Everyone had left besides you, Gerard, and of course your daughter. “Go to bed, sugar,” He told you, “I can take care of her.” And that was all you needed to be out like a light on the partially uncomfortable hospital bed, that post-giving birth felt like heaven.

But after a few hours, you were awoken by the screams of your daughter. Gee got up, carefully picking up your baby girl and trying to soothe her, which ended up failing. “I got her.” You mumbled, feeling like a zombie, and reaching out.

He gave her over in no time, you attempting as well to calm her. “I think she’s hungry.” You slumped over, giving her complete access so she could breast feed. “This’ll be a fun couple of months.” You sarcastically said, smiling lightly at him who lightly smiled back, nodding.

“Can’t wait.” He placed himself back on the couch next to your bed.

And a few short days later, you were out the door, Gerard helping get you and your daughter into the car and carefully driving off. And by carefully, you meant very carefully.

Which was also how he spent the next few weeks with the two of you. He had basically dropped everything to be at home, especially since he knew you couldn’t handle the baby alone.

“I think we should get married.” He said, sitting next to you in bed and flipping through a book, you doing the same.

“Okay.” You said, keeping your attention on the pages.

“Okay? “Yeah, let’s plan it.” You said, “I mean small, obviously, like really small.” He nodded.

“I love you.” He added on. “I love you too, Gee.” He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, Arden interrupting with her screams, which you could’ve easily mistaken for a murder.

“I’ll get her.” He got up, placing his book on the nightstand and jogging out of the room and down the hall to your newborns yellow room (Which you and he had spent almost five hours perfecting).

You could hear him begin to cradle her through the baby monitor you had on your side of the bed. If there’s one thing Gerard had proved since your daughter was born, it was that he absolutely adored her. If it weren’t for naps and breast feeding, you would bet money on the fact that that man would be holding your baby 24/7.

She slowly began calming down, stopping her ring of cries, and falling nearly asleep in his arms. Then you heard him do what he always did: sing her some lullaby. You couldn’t identify which once, but she was out like a light in less than 30 seconds, giving Gee an opportunity to gradually place her back in her crib.

“She loves it when you sing to her.” You smiled as your fiancee walked in.

“It’s the only way to get her to bed, ya know.” “Besides feeding her.” You leaned back and under the covers, against your pillow. “She takes after her father in that regard.” Gerard rolled his eyes.

And then came the hardest part of it all. Once your daughter was three months old, Gerard had finally brought up the upcoming album. They had scraped the initial one by that point, and were already half way through the new one. And while you were always proud of his work, having a kid presented various other issues and responsibilities. “When are you guys planning on releasing it?” You asked, sitting across from Gee at your dining table, your young one having a nap.

“Later this year.”

“So before or after Ard’s first birthday?”

“Probably after.” He stated, playing with his fingers. He himself was extremely anxious to tell you.

“What about the tour?” You asked, “Because I don’t think it would be best to tour with a one year old. And I would have to stay with her.” He nodded.

“I’m not sure.” He said, “I mean, there’s always Skype, right?” You reluctantly nodded. On the inside you were pissed at him right now for even thinking about leaving you and your daughter, but this was his job.

“Fine.” You said, getting up and beginning to walk away.

“Baby,” You could hear him get up, sounding almost sympathetic, because of course he knew you were mad, “Why don’t we talk about this?” “We just did!” You unintentionally snapped, “Sorry.” You sighed walking back over to him, “I’m just worried, okay? For both us and you.” He gave a confused look, “Well, obviously it’ll be hard for Arden to be away from you for so long, especially with her age.” “I’ll take every break I can and come home.” He stated.

“But what about you?” You looked up at him, making firm eye contact, “I love you, Gee, but you got off of drugs and alcohol once. And I’m not saying you would again, but we both know how stressed you get on tours.” “But I’ve gone the last two and a few in between clean, babe.”

“You also had Ray, Bob and I looking after you. Mikey too.” He looked down for a moment, “I won’t be there, Bob quit, and so now it’ll be Ray and Mikey.”

“I’ll call you if I’m struggling.” You rose in eyebrow in superstition, “I promise.”

“Alright.” You said, “Just please, be responsible, Gee. I know you can, but just be careful. Because now it’s not just me. You have a daughter too.” He nodded. “And I think Skypes will be mandatory with the little one.”

[aion-rsa]

The Simpsons Season 32 Episode 17 Review: Uncut Femmes

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This The Simpsons review contains spoilers.

The Simpsons Season 32 Episode 17

The Simpsons Season 32, episode 17, ” Uncut Femmes,” is a caper comedy, and criminals Sarah Wiggum (Megan Mullally) and Fat Tony (Joe Mantegna) steal every scene they are in. Over the course of the jewel heist parody at the center of the installment, we learn Chief Wiggum’s wife has a shady past, and the neighborhood mob boss has a paternal presence. They don’t have any scenes together, but they make crime pay off, and prove two or so wrongs can make a right.

“Oh, my hallway-walking God,” the episode opens, as a workplace atrocity leads to a nondisclosure agreement which results in two front-row seats at a Bob Seger concert. The rock star plays himself, but goes against the wind. Yes, this is the Silver edition of his Bullet Band, but when he learns both Homer and Chief Wiggum dumped an overnight field trip with the kids on their wives to make the show, he feels obliged to remind them: a wife, like rock and roll, never forgets. Who knew a Detroit belter like Seger could throw such guilt?

The trip is to a World War II battleship, retrofitted to look like it did back in May 1943. That was the last time it was scrubbed, and the kids and wives get keelhauled into breaking up everything but the barnacles. They swab the decks and are told they’re killing Oxees, which sounds enough like Nazis for Springfield Elementary. Nick Offerman voices Captain Bowditch, who Sarah Wiggum calls Captain Dingdong before robbing his liquor cabinet and sharing a bottle with Marge.  

The police chief’s wife also shares some unexpectedly relatable problems, like the pressures of being married to “a man with a dangerous job he’s just not good at” But her best comic line is about her husband’s health, and how every slice of cheese could be his last. The bonding scene is very effective, warm and witty. Both women give up so much because they are mothers.

Sarah Wiggum gave up a glitzy and glamorous life of crime, like the Ocean’s 8 masterminds. She was the getaway driver on the famed “Hourglass Diamond” heist. Her story is broken down in a flashback sequence with subtitles like “The Grab,” “The Camaraderie,” and “The Double Cross.” To give historical perspective, one of the items which the young thieves steal, while listening to Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl,” are MP3 players which held over 300 songs. 

In the segment entitled “The Honey Pot,” Sarah explains her own role in the robbery. “The Chump” denotes when she met Clancy Wiggum, then a mere security guard, working his way through one of his many attempts at passing the police academy. “I love a man in a rented uniform,” she says. 

Marge had to miss the one event she gets to share with her sisters’ friends, which includes the crumbs of the crème de la crème of Springfield’s LGBTQ community: Watching the annual Gen Gala on TV and making scathing remarks. Marge is jonesing for snark. She’s got an itch to throw good shade. This would be a blast to hear from Marge, who is “still working up the courage to call a man the B word.” This year’s Gala is themed, “The Audacity.” The prior year was called “The Nerve.  Marge breaks her usual reserve to tell Rihanna she listens “to the clean versions of all your songs.”

Marge is so consistently Marge-like, so clearly defined within the vantage point the series has set up for her. Marge’s first words, when trying to start a conversation with Sarah, are “the top 10 ways of starting a conversation.” When she is kidnapped, she observes whoever had the bag over their face before her was a smoker. Julie Kavner also pulls off amazing physical comedy in this episode, even though it’s vocal acrobatics. When Marge is bound by Sarah’s old gang, she hops away – chair, pole and all – to allow them to scheme. She points to their scheme-board with her high mound of hair, which she later uses to blur surveillance cameras. Kavner’s inquisitive or insistent moans fuel every blue follicle.

To distract the mark, Lindsey Naegle, Marge makes small talk about common household chores the VIP would never do herself, like paying attention to whether you switch delicates to extra warm when you’re doing laundry. “You’re not famous, so you don’t exist,” Lindsey, who pocketed the diamond for herself to buy a celebrity lifestyle, snorts at Marge. Her husband, Springfield’s beloved Rainier Luftwaffe Wolfcastle, takes this gag to an absurd conclusion. Wolfcastle has no idea what the two were talking about when he enters the scene, but he is more blinded by his celebrity. He asks his wife why she’s talking to an empty chair. It’s all a punchline which lands on “somebody stop those nobodies,” a masterful twist of social restraint.

Ultimately, one of the snarkiest lines turns out to be a comment on Marge, when she makes a very surprising appearance at the Gala. But only because “she looks like dirt” walking a red carpet designed for 20 plus-size gladiators to carry Beyoncé. The snide aside comes across as exactly what Marge would’ve wanted.

The episode has plenty of successful throwaway sight gags. Homer closes shop at his post at the nuclear plant with the same kind of cage storefronts lock up with after hours. We’re not sure if this means the workers on the other side are locked in the workspace without emergency supervision for the whole weekend, though.

The kidnapping is first reported by Chief Wiggum’s son, Ralph, who was watch commander on deck. Fat Tony will come to be simpatico with Ralph in hysterically edgy ways later in the episode. They both “know nothing about nothing.” Until he met Ralph, Fat Tony thought putting crumbled Oreos on ice cream would be redundant, but now finds it transcendent. It is like a grooming process; the police chief’s son even begins wearing a matching fur coat. And when a kid behind an ice cream counter tells Ralph not to grab at the Gummy Bears, Fat Tony says “if the boy wants this the boy wants to smooch, the boy will spook smooch.” He could be telling The Bronx Tale. Ralph’s rejoinder, “I love you, scary daddy,” is so in keeping with his character of cluelessly deranged innocence.

When Homer and Wiggum first learn their wives are missing, the police chief immediately blames Fat Tony. The reputed, reported, alleged and convicted crime boss is plainly being honest when he says he would never even consider such a crime. First of all, how would he finish the sentence “it would be a shame if something were to happen to?” 

Wiggum is very important to crime in the town. This episode points out how it flourishes under his lazy watchful eye. Fat Tony loves “Chief Bungles” because he’s a horrible cop. Even Sarah admits her husband is “better at planting evidence than finding it.” But, more importantly to Fat Tony, the chief loves the top cop because he is a selfish man. He’s on the take from Burns, Fat Tony, and we know from past episodes he’s in on schemes with Mayor Quimby. But some things, even a cartoon mob boss cannot forget.

Fat Tony is surprisingly woke in his off hours. It’s the espresso. His men only yell respectful innuendoes at attractive women. The boss not only tutors Homer and Clancy on ways to respect their wives, but takes care of Ralphie while he lets the men fix their marriages. The male gaze is all over this episode, and it gets poked in the eye repeatedly. From WWII books to gender-trading action movie remakes. The real Silver bullet is the truth. Seger’s concert T-shirt is actually a list of things he has to get done to keep his marriage happy, including getting a C-PAP for his snoring.

For Homer, this change is as sweet as a donut, the ordeal makes him notice what Marge looks like when she’s happy. Clancy realizes, for the first time in his long career, that there is a museum in town. At their heart, Homer and the Chief are really only paying attention to their wives for themselves. Oh, and for Bob Seger, they did promise him that. The lesson they learn when confronted with their selfish ways is: “it’s all about us.”

The final part of the scheme earns its subtitle as the exact kind of surprise double revenge twist we have come to expect from this genre. The only difference is what kind of spin the parody will take. Things have a special way of falling on The Simpsons. In a classic early episode, Homer took a memorable tumble down the rocky edges of a cliff in a failed daredevil stunt. So, he knows to get out of the way when Lindsey comes tumbling down the stairs at the Gala. She tumbles long enough for Wolfcastle to find a newer, younger, more trophy of a wife. In real life the fall would have killed her, and Marge would feel terrible. Thank god for animation. Kids, don’t try this at home.

“This isn’t about the cash, it’s about righting a wrong and looking damn good doing it,” Sarah convincingly explains when she lays out the premise of the heist. By the end, Marge declares it “best field trip of my freaking life,” which is what the episode seems to be going for. It’s fun, more fun than most school trips, and it teaches a lesson.

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“Uncut Femmes” is a fun and playful movie satire. It captures the suspense, romance, glamour and pace of a heist film, but puts The Simpsons touch on it. Marge shines in the unexpected, manages to clean house at the same time, and brings Homer into an understanding. The crooks get away with it, and nothing will change. Like so many crimes in Springfield, it’s got Chief Wiggum on the case, and that’s like having no one at all.

The post The Simpsons Season 32 Episode 17 Review: Uncut Femmes appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[saiilorstars]

The Girl in the Forest

Chapter 21: Better than Death

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: The Originals

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Ma-leh-nee

Requested tag: @queenmj10​

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: While Klaus does everything he can to find her, he's already too late. Maleny is in her own personal hell thanks to Finn. 

Because Maleny has been switched bodies once again, her temporary face claim is Adriana Louvier.

New Orleans, 1914. Christmas Eve.

Maya Sterling, was patiently waiting for the bartender to hand over her newest drink. There were too many guests for her to keep up with and since Klaus was busy tending to his wayward brother, Kol, she was left on her own once more. Just as the bartender set her glass on the counter, Maya felt a sharp pain at the side of her head.

"Ooh…" she rubbed her temple but it was no use as she began seeing one of those visions again. The more it progressed the more she became lost in it, her painful expression turning into despondence. By the time the vision ended, she was more depressed than hurt. It was so odd seeing pictures in her head of other women, and with Klaus. What was this?

There was a clearing of a throat beside her and Maya found a blonde woman there, wearing a sparkly blue dress, and with a warm smile on her face, "Are you okay?" she politely asked.

Maya considered the woman one more pesky guest but knew she had to be polite. She wouldn't hear the end of it from Klaus and she sure hated his endless scolds. She gave a small nod, "Yes. Perhaps it's the drinks finally affecting my head. I've had a few."

The blonde studied Maya momentarily, almost unbelieving what she heard. Of course the golden-chained necklace around Maya's neck urged the blonde to insist more. "Are you sure it's only that?"

Maya nervously laughed, missing the lingering eyes on her necklace, "What else could it be? It's Christmas, it's loud, it's full of bourbon. I'm probably just tired. Klaus, he's, um, he's had me looking into this party for weeks. I'm running on low sleep."

The blonde's eyes flickered to the side as the Mikaelsons' began emerging from a downstairs room. Her attention was returned to Maya upon hearing the ginger quietly groaning with her fingers rubbing circles over her temples.

"I'm sorry," Maya apologized to the blonde.

The blonde's gaze on Maya turned into a sympathetic one, "Here," she promptly turned Maya around and gently placed her fingers on Maya's temples.

Confused, and frankly alarmed, Maya asked, "Wh-what are you doing? I swear to God if you do something Klaus will have your head-"

The blonde didn't look remotely afraid of the threat and merely smiled, "Calm down, it's only to help. Now stay quiet and relax," as Maya reluctantly closed her eyes, the blonde began to mumble words - that of a witch's spell.

In less than a minute Maya felt her head free of any kind of pain that had been bothering her more often, "Wow…" she whispered in awe, the blonde smiling brightly seeing Maya at ease now, "How did you...know to do that? Why would you do that?"

"Let's just say...I feel like I already know you," the blonde answered after a moment, something about her smile making Maya curious.

"Why would you-"

"Merry Christmas, Miss Sterling," the blonde smiled warmly at her once more before taking leave.

Cami walked into the kitchen of the safe house with a freshly woken up Hope in her arms, "Hope and I agree it smells pretty good in here," she chuckled as she plopped down on a stool at the isle and watched Elijah cook breakfast over the stove, "...and Hope also said she wants to eat it now."

Elijah glanced over his shoulder and saw his niece happily playing with a small toy in hand, "Are you sure it was Hope that said all that?"

Cami's lips raised into an innocent smile, "All hers. She is the only one who actually needs to eat food after all."

"Vampires can also have a liking for meals. So are you sure it's not actually the therapist that's quite literally trained to talk ears off?"

Cami's mouth fell open in feigned offense, "Oh, so now my sessions are just me talking your ears off? You are a rude person in the mornings."

Elijah turned over with a plate holding an omelette and sarcastically sighed, "Then I suppose Hope will just have to have this instead."

"Well…" Cami eyed the meal, "...I guess I can forgive you this one time…" she flashed him a smile before she chuckled.

Elijah put the plate down before her with his own smile, "I do thank you for helping me."

"I'm glad I've been of use," Cami replied back and sighed, "I haven't exactly finished my course but it's good to know that I don't totally suck at it. I mean, if I'm able to help thousand year old vampires then I can do anything."

"Of course you can," Elijah assured and turned back to the stove to clean things up.

He had to admit while he'd been initially reluctant to speak of his tremors in his mind - especially the Red Door - Cami was able to do more than what any other therapist, psychologist in the past could do. But perhaps he was a little bias since he was closer to Cami than the others. Sharing with her his fear of having no control over himself and thus accidentally hurting those he cared for was monumentally difficult for him, but he'd done it and he'd done it thanks to Cami. Although, after his meeting with his other brothers through Finn's elaborate 'prison' things had been stirred up. He was just glad at the last moment Finn was forced to take down the spell thanks to a spell from Amarrah and Davina.

"And I meant what I said," Cami's voice brought Elijah out of his thoughts. He stopped cleaning and looked at her, "I don't think you'd hurt anyone you love," she finished her sentence, "Could you really think yourself capable of hurting this little one here?" she gestured to Hope.

"Never," he replied instantaneously.

"Then you can start to forgive yourself," she ordered gently. She knew the origin of his problem laid in the fact he'd accidentally killed his first human love, a girl by the name Tatia, as a vampire. Esther had buried the memory deep into his mind, morphing it so that he believed she'd killed him for the vampire spell.

"Yes, while I can perhaps attempt to do that how do I...lose fear of myself?" he left the cleaning to return to the isle, "How can I be sure that I won't lose control anymore?"

Cami stared at him sadly, hating that she had to be so blunt about it, "You can't be sure...because they're your instincts. But you're you, Elijah, and you don't hurt your own."

"Shall we go back to when I nearly attacked you here?"

"Shall we also remember you apologized for it?"

Elijah was in no mood for sarcasm this time and simply frowned, "This isn't just about me, Cami. I don't want to hurt anyone in this family. I don't want to hurt you."

Cami reached for his hand across the aisle and gave it a grip, "Back when you almost attacked me, you disappeared. You showed restraint. Why?" she leaned forwards and whispered as if it were a grand secret, "Because you don't hurt family. Anyone else, please, feel free to rip their heads off."

Elijah managed to smile at that last remark, "I'll be sure to think of that if the need should arise."

"Good," Cami slowly took her hand back and looked at her breakfast plate, "So, thank you for the breakfast. Hope really appreciates it," she bobbed the baby who giggled in response.

Elijah watched the two interact for a bit with a smile across his face. He couldn't see himself hurting Hope for any reason; the same applied to Cami. He would rather succumb to any other torture his mother had for him than to ever have to think about hurting her...Hope...he meant Hope…

~ 0 ~

Klaus watched over Amarrah as she tried conducting yet another locator spell that would hopefully find Maleny for them. But just as the other times, Amarrah stopped her spell as nothing on the map placed before her happened.

With another failed attempt, Klaus sucked in an angry breath, "I am fighting the big urge not to rip your heart out right now!"

Amarrah looked up at him, no more pleased than he was, "You think I'm not trying here?"

"I don't know, let's ask the dozen previous times you've done this and failed," Klaus sarcastically snapped at her. He began pacing in the compound's courtyard while Amarrah tried once more the spell, "We have been at this for an entire stupid night and we're no closer than when we started!"

"I know that! But there's not much more that I can do," Amarrah sighed, "They took her and I suppose wherever she is now it's cloaked. It's gonna take me some time to get it done."

"What if we add another witch to the spell?" Klaus had stopped pacing to face her, "Davina may detest me but her feelings for Mal are pretty honest. Even when crossed with each other Davina would help."

"Yeah," agreed Amarrah, "except she's a little tied up trying to find Marcel and his vampires, remember that?"

Klaus made a distressed gesture with his hand as he thought of the other problem that risen in the past day. As Marcel and his vampires made it perfectly through the Quarter during its festival after Finn's boundary spell had been lifted, they'd all somehow disappeared in his loft. Finnn had taken them and with no way to find them. Davina had offered herself to go find them, or at least attempt to, while Klaus and Amarrah worked on Maleny's location.

"Do the bloody spell again!" he shouted the order. Any other time Amarrah would have told him he didn't tell her what to do, but in this case they were both working to get Maleny back. Without wasting another second, she attempted the locator spell again.

~ 0 ~

Rebekah Mikaelson had been having the worst week possible. Being stuck inside a body that hadn't been intended was one thing, but to be stuck in it and inside a witches' asylum was far beyond her tolerance. She'd been trying to come up with a way to escape and she believed there perhaps was one last hope she could use. Up in the asylum's second floor was a room containing one sole coffin with a girl inside - or so she thought anyways - that emitted great levels of magic she could use. The only thing she had to do then was wait for night to fall and conduct the plan.

Coming into her room, she was surprised to find the new girl standing before the window that overlooked the near desolate street. Rebekah slowly came in, wondering if she'd made a mistake by offering her an apple earlier. Witches were dangerous as it was but what about crazy witches?

"Why are you here?" the girl, a blonde, asked Rebekah without looking away from the window.

Rebekah raised an eyebrow at her, "Um, this is my room, remember that?"

The blonde shook her head, "No, not the room. I mean here," she gestured to the place, "Why are you here? You don't look crazy."

Rebekah crossed her arms, huffing, "I was trying to help my brothers. My con artist of a blood relation Kol betrayed me, got me stuck in here. I tell you, now I know how Maleny feels."

The blonde turned around so fast it almost appeared like a blur had done it. "M-Maleny?"

Rebekah, being too focused in her own problems, failed to notice the distinct appearance of someone that knew someone else. "If she was here now I bet she could give me some pointers," Rebekah muttered.

"What happened to the ginger woman?" the blonde suddenly asked.

"Ginger woman?"

"She had pretty hair but her head hurt so much," the blonde continued like Rebekah hadn't asked, "I felt bad for her. I helped her sometimes but she never knew why it hurt so much. Then again, I did leave after a year…"

"Okay…" Rebekah slowly stepped back, "...stay in the room if you'd like. I'll just be downstairs…"

"I was right, though, wasn't I?" the blonde hurried up to Rebekah, her curious dark blue eyes searching Rebekah's newly dark brown ones, "She was cursed the one?"

At the mention of 'curse' Rebekah immediately thought of Maleny, "How could you...how do you know...no," she shook her head and dismissed any suspicious thoughts, "It's not possible."

"What's not?" the blonde repeated, looking lost.

Rebekah smiled, "Nothing. But, listen, I think I found a way out of this hell hole. If you want to come with, meet me at the front door in tonight. Either way, wish me luck," with a pat on the blonde's shoulder, Rebekah turned and walked out.

The blonde, the unknown elder sister of the Mikaelsons', Freya, watched her younger sister leave with a smirk across her face. She'd learned in the short time she'd woken up Rebekah was resilient and kind - she liked her.

~ 0 ~

It appeared Amarrah was finally managing to break through the cloaked location of Maleny as things got moving on the map before. Klaus hurried back to intently watch. However, after a few seconds, everything just...stopped.

Confused, Klaus looked up to the French witch, "What is it now?"

Amarrah blinked and seemed to be in thought, "It just...it just vanished."

"What did?"

"...Mal," Amarrah looked to the side, "It's like, when you…" she swallowed hard, "...die. When you die your body ceases to have a location anymore so-"

"DON'T!" Klaus shouted in a threatening tone, making her flinch, "She is not dead. And if you dare utter another senseless word about this I will personally rip your tongue out."

Amarrah kept a straight face, despite feeling her heart beating faster. With this sudden news she now knew there was no protection against the hybrid's radical movements. "Then why is her location no longer available?"

"Because Finn is clever and he managed to do something to make it appear like she died," Klaus wasted no time to explain. He looked down at the map and noticed where the sprinkles of Amarrah's spell had stopped, "What's that place?" he pointed to it.

"Huh?" Amarrah looked down and studied its location, "It's, um...hm," she leaned closer to the map, "Actually, it's pointing us near the entrance to the bayou."

"Excellent, then we start there," Klaus smiled widely and turned to leave.

"Start what?" Amarrah called after him as she rushed to catch up.

"The search, of course. Hayley's over there right now and better yet with her husband-to-be. They have wolves willing to help."

"We should call Davina, then," offered Amarrah, "tell her what's going on."

"No, let her continue her efforts on Marcel. That way I can find Maleny first without a problem," and with that Klaus hurried off into a quicker walk, leaving poor Amarrah to sprint after him.

~ 0 ~

"What do we do with it now?" Benson questioned Ela as Maleny's previous corpse was once again being placed into a coffin.

Ela glanced over to the corpse, uninterested, "Finn said to keep it safe. Put it back in the plot at the graveyard."

"All the way back to the cemetery?" another of the wolves gawked at such a waste of time, "He literally made us carry this damn thing for a stupid spell?"

Ela upheld an annoyed look on the wolf before grasping her hand into a fist and causing him to go down to the floor with a snapped neck, "Anyone else have something to say?" the rest of the wolves cleverly kept their mouths shut, "Good," Ela smiled and motioned for the remaining wolves to carry the corpse away.

"How do we proceed now, then?" Benson inquired once more after the corpse was gone. He was eyeing the blonde woman laying on the table – Maleny's now once more empty body.

"There's one more thing we have to do to make sure the message is sent and received," she picked up a couple of old spell pages and began to study their content.

~ 0 ~

Young, or not so young, Freya Mikaelson was secretly back in the asylum room that held her coffin. She was trying to construct a spell that would allow her to search for that ginger woman of 1914. Even if dead, she being who she was, would at least get a reading off the corpse. She'd managed to snag a map from a downstairs office and quickly brought up to use it. She then placed her necklace down on the map, ripping it's beads off. If she'd been right and the ginger woman had been under some type of spell, the necklace would equal to that of the gingers necklace. It was ridiculous, she knew, how she was spending her first moments of life again on a woman she'd only known a year. But she wasn't doing this for herself, she was doing it for him.

"C'mon, Maya," Freya whispered and closed her eyes, "Or…perhaps Maleny?" she took a breath and began to chant a spell. Slowly, the beads off her aunt's necklace began moving around the map trying to pinpoint the location of Maya.

She was not surprised to find the location ending up at the Lafayette cemetery.

"Did they kill you the way they have been for so long now?" Freya whispered to herself, swallowing hard. "But if this body's there, and everyone's here...then you have to be here too."

~ 0 ~

A brunette woman panted as she ran across the trees and grass, doing her best to not to trip over her own feet. Her long, wavy brown hair bounced side to side as she crossed. It bore several pieces of twigs and leaves, but she didn't care. Her face was a bit dirty, but even then her brilliant sea-blue eyes were visible as they flickered from side to side, searching for any way out. She knew at the rate she was going, it was only a matter of time before she was caught.

She heard nearby noises and followed them through, knowing they couldn't be of the wolves since they were behind. She slowly crept up to see a small campfire of two people, a man and a woman both in their middle ages. She then saw their campfire along with some other tools...guns. they must have been hunters. She saw the pair were happily conversing over by their tent and decided if she wanted to survive she would have to do what it took. As quietly as she could, she tiptoed to the edge of the campfire and snatched up a gun. As soon as they heard the click of the gun, the pair whirled around to see the brunette holding the gun at them, though terrified as it seemed.

"Hey, hey, hey, easy," the man stepped in front of the woman with his hands raised, "Take the gun, take what you want, but don't hurt us."

The woman's eyes were shiny with tears, "I'm sorry," her clear, American voice cracked, "I don't...I don't do this...but they're forcing me…"

The man could tell the woman was not just a regular thief, she looked scared out of her mind, "If you need help, we can help."

The woman's eyes lowered to the pair's hands and saw no moonlight rings, "If you try they'll just kill you."

"What ever it is, we can help," the man assured her but it was no use. The woman took a deep breath before she shot the man's leg and soon after the woman with them.

"I'm sorry!" the brunette cried and took off again, this time with the gun clutched in her hand. Wolves were wolves in the end. They didn't need a stake to the heart to die.

She had run a good deal away from the campfire before she was violently pushed towards a tree, "Ah!" she fell on the side of her head against the bark and cut the side of her forehead as she fell down.

"Did you really think you could escape from us?" Ela emerged across the brunette, wearing a satisfied smirk across her face as two wolves came up behind her. "Climbing out of a window, though, clever," she gave a small laugh. "Now it's time to go back."

"No!" the brunette declared, "I'd rather die."

"Unfortunately, that wouldn't do you any good because in the next minute I'm going to make it so that you can't body jump. Maleny Rowan, this is your destiny in life: never to be in your own body."

The newly transferred Maleny breathed in and bit her own tongue to prevent fresh tears spilling. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry, no matter how difficult it was. "We'll see about that," she pulled out the gun from behind and fired on one of the wolves, successfully killing them.

Ela stumbled onto the other wolf from the impact of the shot but ordered in time for Maleny to be captured. Ela then fixed herself and walked up to Maleny, harshly grabbing the new brunette by the chin, "You're going to regret that, darling."

"You will!" snapped Maleny who struggled to get free.

"Hm," Ela hummed and stepped back, rubbing her hands together.

Seconds later she began to perform a spell, one Maleny couldn't quite understand. But suddenly it didn't matter what she was saying as a terrible pain surged through Maleny's blood. The wolf let Maleny go as she screamed in utter agony. Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. She felt something burn near her collarbone. Her hands flung to the spot, her screams cut up as she tried to breathed in. It was like fire as she felt something on her skin bubble and push upwards. Through her blurry vision she could see Ela smirking while doing the spell. When it finally stopped, Maleny dropped on her side, heavily panting and her hands still over her collarbone.

Ela watched her pant on the ground for a good minute, her smirk widening, "You will die now if you try to kill yourself for the sake of returning to your body," she informed and bent down in front of Maleny, "You see, death was too easy for you. Why kill if you won't even remember it when you wake up years from now in a new body? This way, Fin takes joy in seeing you miserable in a body of a wolf. And Klaus without the faintest clue how to help you. It's all glorious and quite well thought out. The ultimate punishment for you and Klaus Mikaelson."

Maleny rolled onto her back, slowly her breathing returning to normal. The pain over her collarbone was subsiding, but very little. It was now stinging with after-effects. She let Ela laugh it out with her remaining wolf - she reached for the gun she'd dropped not too far. She shot Ela straight on the chest. The blood splattered on her clothes and face but Maleny couldn't dwell over the blood as she had to deal with the last wolf still there. She tried using the gun again but the wolf yanked it out of her hand and chucked it to the side. She was pulled up to the wolf and kept in a tight hold.

"You're coming back with us," he told her as he started turning back for the direction they'd came in through.

"No!" Maleny exclaimed, digging her nails into the man's skin.

"Sorry, your frail little nails won't do crap," the man laughed mockingly.

Maleny stopped for a moment when she saw the moonlight ring on the man's finger. With a smirk she swiftly slid off the ring and promptly put it on her finger.

"Hey!" the man called as Maleny now easily got free from him.

She punched him across the face and was glad to see her strength doubling up with the ring. It seemed for once Esther had actually helped in a way.

"Lesson number one Klaus taught me after coming back," she proudly said after seeing the good results.

"You're gonna die now, bitch!" the man forgone all the plans and torture Finn had instructed.

Maleny backed away, momentarily scared of him. He was a lot bigger than her and more muscle. She knew she would have to...kill, again, to survive. She looked around for the gun and saw it across them. With a big breath she dashed over to it but the wolf managed to snag her by the ankle and pull her down. She ignored the pain on her collarbone as the ground rubbed against it, as well as the sharp rocks underneath scraping at her thin pants.

"Give me that back!" he tried prying the ring off her finger, practically straddling her for it. He only managed to scratch her hand.

"No!" Maleny got in a punch and used the moment of surprise to push him off her. She scrambled over the remainder of the distance and retrieved the gun, using it just in time to shoot the man dead. She dropped the gun and sat up, breathing in rapidly as she took a moment to realize what she'd done.

There laid Ela and her two wolves, shot dead...shot by her. She looked down at herself to her blood covered clothes and hands. There was a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that was terrifying her. She'd just killed three people in less than five minutes. The lump in her throat was nearing her to the brink of tears as she felt her hair - hair that wasn't even hers - that was also mildly covered in blood. But she couldn't cry then, she couldn't afford to lose time. Ela had more than two wolves and after killing her and the two it was sure to become a hunt for her.

She picked up the gun once more and pulled herself to her feet. She looked around and debated which way would lead her towards the road again. In the end, she followed the wind's direction and hoped for the best.

~ 0 ~

Klaus struggled not to leave Amarrah behind as the woman tended to a call over cellphone. They were closing in on Hayley's wolf pack yet the witch seemed to be taking her sweet time walking.

"No, that's not right," Amarrah was saying on the phone, "Mother, I don't understand."

Klaus rolled his eyes and finally stopped to address the waste of time she was causing, "Will you hang up the bloody phone already? We're on the clock and you're going slower by the second."

Amarrah raised an eyebrow at him while she continued listening in to her mother's concern, "I understand now, Mother," she continued which angered Klaus more, "We'll figure it out, I promise. Bye," she hung up and returned her phone to her pocket.

"Nice of you to remember Maleny's situation," Klaus gave her a look before continuing to walk.

"That was my mother calling in with something of Maleny's," Amarrah began to explain, "You didn't listen in, did you?"

"I tend to have no interest in conversations you have, honestly," Klaus said casually as he looked around, missing Amarrah's glare, "I tolerate you simply because Maleny has affection for you. And, because I suppose thanks to your family she was able to come back."

"Thank the people who brought her to us," Amarrah rolled her eyes. "But listen, my mother says Maleny's channel of power with our coven has stopped."

Klaus stopped to turn to her, "And what, pray tell, does that mean?"

"What I said before," Amarrah shrugged, preparing herself for another round of shouts, "Maleny is gone."

"SHE IS NOT!" Klaus roared and turned around, facing her with a furious look.

"Then what else do you think happened!?" Amarrah shouted back, though in comparison to his shouts she sounded more like a whisper.

"Finn would not kill her," Klaus said after a long moment. "I know my brother well, and he wouldn't..."

"Then what would he do?" Amarrah demanded angrily, "Your family is full of maniacs if you haven't noticed! Can you even imagine what Finn's done with her? She could be suffering right now! She could be tortured!"

"Of course I've thought of that!" Klaus shouted back at her, outraged she insinuated he was thoughtless, "You seem to forget it's been me that's protected her?"

"And how has that gone, huh!?" Amarrah leaned forwards, putting them face to face, "I love my friend but she has chosen so wrong! Look where she's at because of it?"

"It's not my fault!" Klaus furiously declared, but his face expressed honest guilt that betrayed his statement.

Amarrah calmed down as she realized he was just as terrified of Maleny's state as she was. She took a deep sigh and rubbed her temple, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Perhaps it's not your fault but you have to admit a lot of the dangers Maleny has faced are because of your family. If she wasn't with you, she would have been-"

"Dead," Klaus whispered, silencing Amarrah. He stepped towards her, "Without meeting me she would have been dead. Probably by the hands of her own father. So, yes, she's been in danger because of her connection with me," he started walking Amarrah backwards, "But she's been protected by me. She had a family with me, my sister, my brother - as wicked and sinister as my family was she was loved by us," he cornered Amarrah against a tree and leaned closer to her, his voice lowering, "You will do best not to question this topic again. It may not always go right but I always aim to protect Maleny. Always."

Amarrah relaxed when he stepped back and started to walk again. She didn't realize it but she found Klaus to be fear worthy. The way Maleny had described him back in France was nothing compared to what Amarrah was seeing. It was difficult to believe an actual relationship could exist between Klaus and Maleny.

~ 0 ~

Maleny swore she could begin to hear the faint noises of cars from the road. The moonlight ring had allowed her the supernatural hearing that would allow her to save her life. She'd been coming across more of Finn's wolves and was thankfully able to combat them to the point of putting them unconscious or death. Most of them she had to...put to death. Her gun had only one bullet left and was close to leaving her to defend herself with her bear hands. With each kill she acted on she felt more and more distraught. She felt awful, but it was better to feel awful or be dead.

She was not going to give them that satisfaction either.

Upon hearing crunching noises behind her she froze and turned around. There was no one to see but she could hear them coming...the wolves were coming to kill her. She swallowed hard and looked up to a tree with a loose branch. Closing her eyes and taking a breath, she decided how she would fight her last battle before she could make it home.

~ 0 ~

"No, we haven't seen anything weird," Hayley told Klaus and Amarrah after hearing the story of Maleny's kidnapping. The wolves that were no longer with Esther no longer wore the moonlight rings and therefore their hearing had been downgraded seriously. But even Hayley herself hadn't heard anything strange nearby.

"We're sure she's in the bayou," Amarrah insisted, "Before the spell was cut off the location pointed towards the bayou."

"Well maybe she's deeper," Hayley suggested, and looked at Klaus firmly, "But we'll help you find her."

"She's been gone for a near day, we haven't time to lose," Klaus frantically gestured for them to start moving.

"Now wait a minute," Hayley motioned them to stay still, "You said Mal stopped channeling magic from your coven," she looked at Amarrah.

"Yeah, my mother called in concern," Amarrah nodded.

"So that means she's either dead-"

"No," Klaus gave her a pointed look.

"What if they started the curse again and she's not even here anymore?"

Klaus refused to believe that and shook his head, "She's here, I know she is."

"Okay, but what if she's not-"

"SHE IS!" Klaus cut her off with a loud shout, his anger rising with each second that passed by, "She is still here and I will look for her through every last bloody part of this bayou until I find her - with or without you."

Hayley gave him a long look, surprised of his hope in Maleny's survival. She supposed she could be optimistic like him until they saw something that would tell them it had gone wrong.

"Or," she began anew again, about to earn another shout from Klaus when she finished with, "she could have body jumped again."

The idea left Klaus and Amarrah thinking for a minute. They hadn't even considered that idea in the whole time they'd been out searching and Hayley saw it.

"Death would be to easy of a punishment," Klaus said to himself, a smirk worming across his lips. "That would be clever-"

"That would be awful," snapped Amarrah, sending him a glare.

"But she would be alive," Klaus pointed at her, still in thought.

"Yeah, but her connection to my coven doesn't exist anymore," Amarrah needed to remind. "Even if she's switched bodies, our spell was designed to carry it out no matter what."

"What about a wolf's body, then?" Hayley finally cut in, making them both look at her oddly. "Finn wouldn't be stupid enough to put her into a vampire's body. He'd be creating someone he couldn't control. Put her into a wolf's body and you've got a ticking time bomb if she doesn't wear his moonlight rings."

The idea was even more distraught-provoking.

"If she was placed into a wolf's body then she has a better chance of surviving than if she remained in her witch's body," Hayley added then noticed Amarrah's displeased look, "No offense."

"All taken," Amarrah said nonetheless, "Witches can do a lot of things, alright? We can-"

"Spare us the lecture, Amarrah," Klaus dismissed her with a wave and turned around to the settlement of wolves, "How do we begin the search, then? Mal can literally be anyone at this point."

"Well," Hayley stepped forwards and looked at the settlement herself, "There's no one missing here and all the other wolves are with Finn so…"

"Finn used one of his own," Klaus smirked at the idea, "That's gonna cost him in the long run - as well as be incredibly useful to us later on."

"Can we ask Aiden?" Amarrah thought to ask.

"No, he's completely out," Hayley shook her head, "They just turned in all the moonlight rings earlier. Finn wouldn't tell him anything anymore."

"So then how do we look for someone we don't even know?"

"I would assume the locator spell is out of the question?"

"You would assume right," Amarrah gave Hayley a nod before looking out to Klaus, "Any ideas?"

Klaus hated his answer and the reality of their situation, "I have no idea," and he despised not knowing what to do next.

~ 0 ~

"She's around here, her scent is strong. Look close, Kenzie," a young wolf told his other friend, a young woman, as they entered a small clearing.

"Alan is right, we better find her," a second woman emerged across the small plain they were in, "She's killed five of us now."

"She's not as stupid as we thought," the first woman, Kenzie, shook her head.

Just then, a bullet rang and the second woman was shot through the chest. As she fell to the ground, Kenzie and Alan looked up into the direction the bullet had come through. Maleny shot down from the top of a tree and fell upon Alan with a piece of branch in hand. It had been fastened into a sharper object, not a stake but enough to cause damage.

"What the - get off me!"

"NO!" she furiously screamed and stabbed the shaped branch into Alan's abdomen.

"Get the hell off him!" cried Kenzie. She lunged for Maleny and knocked her to the ground. She punched Maleny on the face before Maleny kicked her off.

Maleny scrambled to her feet and breathed in heavily, her lungs hurting from all the running she'd done, "Please, just go," she motioned, "I don't...I don't want to hurt anyone else...please. Just go."

Kenzie's eyes narrowed down on the brunette, "You killed my friends and you want me to let you go? Maybe you are as stupid as we thought. I don't care what Finn said to do, you're gonna die."

Maleny tried running off but the woman tackled her to the ground. Maleny felt her cardigan and part of her blouse rip with the force of the tackle. The next thing she knew Kenzie was raising her up from the ground and throwing her against a tree. The sharp jab of the bark hitting her back made Maleny scream. She was so tired by that point she wondered if there was even a chance she could perhaps escape.

Kenzie had left her to pick up the branch Maleny had dropped in with and looked it over, "You have good wood skills," she remarked and looked up at Maleny, "I suppose you learned this in one of your past lives?"

Maleny wearily looked at the branch and felt a lump in her throat as she remembered.

The village was celebrating a festival for the Gods full of dancing and eating and games of all sorts. But while everyone was gathered at the center to celebrate, Klaus preferred to stay on the outsides on his own. He'd once again had a falling out with Mikael that ended in a near fight if Esther hadn't intervened. The last thing Klaus wanted to do was celebrate some silly festival. He preferred where he was now, calmly carving onto the piece of wood he'd snagged earlier.

"I knew I would find you here," Maleny's voice made him look up from his work. The blonde was approaching him with a smile, "I was getting lonely out there, everyone dancing...you know Mateo asked me if I wanted to dance."

Klaus watched her sternly as she took a seat beside him, "...you said no right?" his tone implied a warning for the other man's fate based on her answer.

Maleny just smirked, "You should have been there," she replied and laughed when he grumbled and returned to his carving. Maleny propped an elbow on her lap to rest her chin on her palm, "What are you doing now?" she curiously asked.

"You'll have to wait until it's finished," Klaus answered and glanced at her to see her curiosity. She always liked his little creations even when they were things he'd quite literally made up. He stopped carving for a minute and smiled, "Do you want to try?" he offered.

Maleny's half widened at the idea, "I don't know how to do that stuff. I'll just ruin it for you."

Klaus laughed and pulled her closer to him, "It's actually quite simple," he assured her as she took the tool and wood piece.

"Easy for you to say. You've been at this since you were a kid," Maleny lightly squealed as Klaus pulled her onto his lap, "Klaus, someone will see us…" she blushed.

"Nah, they're all too focused on their festival," Klaus shook his head then smirked, "Besides, you're worth the trouble."

Maleny looked at him, blushing deeper, "Am I?"

"Definitely," he promised her with a sound kiss then proceeded to guide her through the carving manners as best as he could.

Maleny scrunched her nose and acquired new motivation to keep fighting, "Klaus taught me," she leaned off the tree, "And he taught me many other things!" she growled and lunged on the Kenzie. She grabbed the branch and slammed it over Kenzie's head, "I AM NOT LOSING!" Maleny gritted her teeth as she hit harder and harder.

By the time Kenzie had fallen Maleny was sobbing. She fell back on the ground and threw the bloody branch away from her. She pulled herself up to her feet and hugged herself, though quickly felt the fresh blood on her clothes then. She ran a hand through her messy, knotted hair and looked at the newest murder scene she was responsible for. She sniffled and ran off once again, hoping to finally find her way home.

~ 0 ~

Now at night, Rebekah had put her plan to escape the witches asylum. She'd roamed the upstairs floor for her friend's, Cassie, room since they were going to be escaping together. But when she found it completely empty she grew worried and rushed down the hallway in search of her. She noticed, however, the secret room holding Freya's coffin (though Rebekah didn't know it was Freya's coffin) was opened. She stepped inside to find one of the evil witches in charge was dead on the floor, her face covered in blood. Rebekah went for the coffin and cleared off some dust to see there was no girl inside anymore!

At the sound of creaks Rebekah turned around to see her friend Cassie walking in, bearing the same type of scars as the witches in charge bore.

Rebekah blinked, "Cassie. Cassie, where the hell have you...

"I'm sorry, Rebekah, but you didn't leave me much choice," the young teen said, "I told you, there's no escape. I had to turn to the only people I knew I could trust…" behind her came a swarm of witches with canes and fireplace pokers, "And I told them that they had to deal with you. My only regret is that I didn't stop you before you killed one of our own…" Cassie gestured to the dead witch in the room, "And now you have to be punished.

Rebekah stepped back, horrified at the betrayal, "No. I didn't kill her... though, to be fair, I won't miss the ugly cow. Hrrgh…" she wasn't about to let them take her back so she began to fight. She elbowed on witch on the face and kicked another on the legs. However, one managed to get her on the head and knocked her to the floor. Rebekah fell with a thud and was about to be hit again when the witch was flung to the wall. Rebekah raised her head to see Freya at the doorway, comically bored at the scene.

"You're all so mean," she frowned, "like the mouse that torments the cat in those cartoons. I think you're the ones who need to be punished," she raised her arms up and sent the other two witches into the walls. The remaining witch, Cassie backed away, but Freya was not going to let her free, "The others were just ignorant bullies but you, you're a smart girl, powerful, and yet you still betrayed a friend," she'd walked straight up to Cassie and grabbed her head, forcing an infliction pain on her head. Cassie screamed as blood poured from her eyes and nose until she eventually fell to the floor, dead.

"I despise traitors," Freya declared in a nonchalant tone then turned to the first dead witch and snatched back her necklace that had been taken earlier.

Rebekah had watched the entire scene in silence on the floor and wondered if she was to be afraid as well. Freya noticed her sister's bandaged hand so she took it into her own hands and healed it with with a spell.

Rebekah rose to her feet and flexed her hand, "How did you do that?" Freya smiled but instead of answering she led the way out of the room.

Rebekah was stunned as they literally walked out of the asylum without a problem. Freya had used her magic to open telekinetically the doors of the place and led Rebekah down the front porch steps.

"You're her, the all-powerful girl in the coffin…" Rebekah had slowly began to realize, "That's how you did magic... But why didn't you just tell me?"

Freya stopped walking and looked back, "I'd only just woken from a century of sleep. I wanted to know you, see what you were really like, and you didn't disappoint me. There's a spark in your, Rebekah. You're willful, also kind. You're not half as bad as our brothers."

Rebekah raised her eyebrows, "What did you say?

"You're right, you know. We met once before…" Freya continued to smile, "Christmas party in 1914. I was so desperate to catch a glimpse of my family, I even made a friend. Rebekah, you know who I am."

"You're the girl in my nightmare. It really is you…" Rebekah breathed in, her eyes becoming shiny with tears, "Freya."

Freya continued walking towards the gates and gripped her hands around bars, casting a spell, "Destruccive glas enfala. Destruccive glas enfala," the spell that had been used to keep witches inside the asylum was brought down in a snap. Freya turned to Rebekah afterwards, "I slept 100 years, and now finally, I'm free. Tell our brothers I'll be coming to see them soon, and I expect nothing less than their best behavior," she telekinetically ripped the gates off their hinges and then walked out, "First, I have to pay my respects to a fallen friend at the cemetery," she said quietly and started down the sidewalk, barefoot.

Rebekah stared after her in awe and confusion. She then started on her own journey back to the compound, running as fast as she could. She had so much to tell the others and frankly she was itching to slap Kol on the face for his little prank. But when she reached the compound she was confused to find all the lights off and basically no one home.

"Nik?" she called out in the middle of the courtyard, but no one answered, "Elijah?"

Where the hell was everyone?

"Hayley!" she called again and decided to go upstairs. It was then she missed her super hearing which would save her the time of searching. Just as she was reaching the stairs, she heard low groans from the entrance of the compound. Slowly, she peered out to the entrance and saw the shadow figure of a woman leaning against a wall, using it to get herself inside.

"Klaus?" she was calling as well, her voice shaky and frankly in fear, "Klaus, where are you?"

Rebekah began walking for the woman, intrigued by the unknown woman, "Who the bloody hell are you?"

Maleny raised her head to see the dark-skinned woman with black, curly hair and frowned, "Who are you and why are you in here? What did you do to him? What did you do to Klaus?"

Rebekah could see the woman was injured and thus unable to put up any fight. Of course then she saw the moonlight ring and stepped back, "You're one of Finn's wolves, aren't you? I swear to God I'm getting Finn for this...though he may have to wait in line for Kol."

Maleny raised an eyebrow and momentarily forgone her current problem to really look at the woman in front of her, "R-Rebekah? Is that you? This is the body Kol put you in?"

Rebekah frankly didn't like seeing the strange woman know so much about her, "How do you know that?"

Maleny's eyes teared up again, "Rebekah, it's me," she gestured to herself, "It's Mal…" Rebekah's eyes widened, "Finn...he did this to me," and after such an awful day Maleny finally burst into sobs.

Rebekah caught the brunette before she fell forwards and while confused she simply held Maleny closer, feeling that the woman needed a sisterly hug.

~ 0 ~

Barefoot, Freya had found her way to the Lafayette cemetery on her own. She'd done a spell to locate her friend's gravestone but was confused to find the location being in a plot area that read 'Dawson' instead.

Stumbling back with a deep scowl, she glared at the plots. "We meet again," she muttered.

[alicepink-me]

The New Guardian

New story idea I’m trying. I thought of this back in October and have been writing it since then. It’s very different from my past works and I’ve added a lot of characters and plots that are completely my own. I love reviews and comments. I’ll be posting updates daily.

Story Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is an adult in the real world, guarding the Miracle Box in Master Fu's place. She's in love with Chat Noir, but refuses to tell him her feelings. New holders appear to fight the duo and shake up their lives. Marinette makes a tough decision about her future as Ladybug.

Chapter 1: A New Visitor

Years after obtaining the Ladybug miraculous, defeating Hawkmoth, and graduating high school, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is now 21 and has her own apartment away from her family. While facing several enemies over time, Marinette has also served as guardian of the miraculous, a replacement for Master Fu.

Her apartment was dreary with a dark color scheme and lonely feeling. It was only one room, which had her bed and dresser, a kitchen, living room area and a bathroom off to the side. Marinette laid on her bed, scrolling through her phone, all the kwamis floating around her.

"Hmm." Her thumb slid across the screen. "What do you guys want for dinner?"

"Something sweet." Pollen answered.

"Something spicy." Trixx said.

"Definitely chocolate. Anything chocolate." Duusu squealed.

Marinette rolled off her bed and headed to the kitchen. "Let me see what I have first." She opened the fridge and released a breath. There was only a few ingredients on the shelves, three eggs, and a half gallon of milk. "Not much to work with." She mumbled.

"You don't need to cook us anything, Marinette." Tikki said. "We'll be okay."

"It's fine. I don't mind cooking and if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to talk to you guys." Marinette denied. Tikki sighed. "Since I'm not wearing all of the miraculous, I have to feed you all regularly." She pulled out the milk and poured a glass. "It's not a big deal, so I'll just go to the store." 

"Maybe you could invite Alya over." Tikki suggested, flying in front of her. "You haven't hung out with her much since high school."

"I can't do that, Tikki. I have you guys to think of first." She took a sip.

"We can go back in the miracle box for the time being." Tikki replied. "There's nothing to worry about, so surely you can invite your friends over from time to time."

"Yes." Sass slurred. "We'll stay quiet and hidden."

"No need to." Marinette walked back to her bed and grabbed her phone. "As part of being a guardian, I have to focus on the miraculous first and that means no one, but me enters this apartment. No one can even see the box, let alone you guys. It's the least I can do for Master Fu. No friends, no boyfriends, not even family can come in here. It must stay private or else I've failed as a guardian."

"But you still have a life to live, Master." Nooroo advised. "Your job is sacred to us and many others, but it does not take away your humanity."

She grabbed her keys and purse. "I'm an adult now and I have my responsibility to you guys above all else. My high school friends are a close third and my family is put second after you." Marinette made excuses. "Besides, I'd only be lying to them. I could never tell my family or friends anything. The only person I could ever be almost completely honest with was . . . "

"Chat Noir." Tikki finished.

"Yeah . . . " She replied, staring into space.

"Why don't you call him?" Wayzz asked.

Marinette inhaled sharply, dropping her keys. She looked forward in a daze before reaching down to pick them up. "No."

"Aw, but you two were so cute." Duusu cheered. "He was always planning things for you two; all of his gestures. It was so romantic!"

"Chat Noir doesn't love me, Duusu." Marinette stared down.

"Sure he does." Pollen insisted. "After all these years, he only wants you."

"He has a girlfriend last I heard." Marinette stated, playing with her keys. "Chat Noir moved on awhile ago, so I'm sure he's forgotten all about me by now."

"But you still love him." Tikki countered.

"I can't tell him that, Tikki." Marinette turned around. "After every rejection and temper tantrum I threw over his romantic gestures . . . it's not right and it never will be." She paused. "How could I even do that? I won't . . . put him through any pain again. I don't deserve him at this point, so I'll just have to get over him."

"But why?" Fluff asked. "Everything would be so much easier. I couldn't imagine him denying you and it's not a crime to love."

"It's not l-" She stopped herself. "It's too late in my life for this. I need to move on and focus on other things. Not everyone went through three and a half years of guardianship training, so my future is set in stone. I've made my choices."

"How do you know he's made his? How do you know he's given up?" Ziggy questioned. "You only see each other every once in awhile now that Hawkmoth isn't in the picture anymore. Maybe you've forgotten his ways. When was the last time you saw him exactly?"

"Um . . . three months ago." She shifted her weight. "At a store robbery."

"You could use a refresher. Suppressing your memories because of your feelings is weakening your partnership." Pollen informed, flying in front of her face. "Call him." She ordered.

"How about I get to the store?" Marinette headed to the door, ignoring them. "Tikki." She called.

Tikki flew in her purse and the others stayed behind. Marinette closed the door behind her and locked it. She sighed and closed her eyes, taking a moment to breathe.

. . .

Marinette walked down the sidewalk towards the store. She continued to type the rest of her shopping list as she walked before bumping into someone.

She looked up. "Sorr-" She stopped. Everyone around her had stopped on the sidewalk staring at the road. Marinette put her phone away and moved to the edge. A bright, dark orange line was painted along the road. She bent down and ran her fingers over it. The mark was made of some sort of dust. It stained her fingers. "What the?"

"This is Nadia Chamack, bringing you the latest news." The reporter began. Marinette moved towards her. "Parisians left their homes this afternoon to find our streets covered with mysterious orange lines. This is the first unusual event in almost two years to happen in Paris. Is this an attack, a warning, or a simple prank? What does all of this mean? More updates will follow." The camera panned down.

The crowds didn't seem too worried, just confused. This definitely wasn't an akuma, but what were they to think? It's been a few years, but they still remember Hawkmoth.

Marinette needed to transform. She ran around the corner, into an alleyway. The crowds began to spread and the people started filming. Once she was hidden, she unclasped her purse. Tikki flew out.

"Tikki, Spots On." She whispered. Once she was red clad, she wiggled her fingers. Her suit felt new and unknown. It looked the same, but it felt like forever since she wore it last. Her yo-yo beeped as she flipped it open.

"Breaking news!" Nadja yelled. "A woman here at The Seine is claiming the orange lines across Paris as her own. She has a miraculous, but is she a hero or a villain?"

"Paris . . . I am Ginger." The woman smiled. "I am not here to harm any of you, but I would like a word with Ladybug and Chat Noir."

Ladybug shut her yo-yo. "Great." She muttered, swinging up to the rooftops.

Ladybug swung over to the Seine and saw her. The woman had an orange suit laced with purple and burgundy shoes that looked like anthers. Her mask has purple and lime details like petals. She had a brown bob hair cut and strong green eyes. Ladybug sprinted down the road until she came face to face with her.

"Well that was quick." The woman grinned.

"Who are you?" Ladybug asked.

"And why are you in Paris?" Chat Noir finished, sliding down his baton next to her. He flashed his signature smile. Ladybug's eyes widened as she looked at her partner. "Long time no see, M'Lady."

"Aw, you two are even cuter in person." She had an subtle English accent. "You're miraculous are like little onesies."

"Kind of hypocritical considering yours isn't so different." Ladybug replied. "But who are you?" She repeated.

"I am Ginger." Her eyes looked them up and down.

"We already know that from the news." Ladybug rolled her eyes. "Where did you get a miraculous?"

"My master of course." She smiled. "I started training from a young age to be a miraculous holder and now I've been granted the opportunity for mine. This is my first mission, but don't think I will go easy on you because you have ones like I do."

"There aren't many guardians though." Chat Noir said. "In fact I've only ever met one, so seeing someone completely new is strange."

"I'm sure one of you knows something." Ginger looked between the two of them. "Whichever one of you is the guardian." She stared, searching for answers. "But I'm not here to chitchat. I must be going, but I do have a purpose today."

"Purpose?" Ladybug raised an eyebrow.

"I bring a warning for you both." She smirked. "We are coming for you."

"What does that mean?" Chat asked.

"I must be going." Ginger used her right foot to draw an orange circle around her. She twirled at the end and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Ladybug sighed. "I guess . . . we're back to the old days."

"Good old days." Chat shrugged. "It's been . . . almost two years since then, Ladybug." He turned to her and smiled. "But it's nice to see you again."

That smile killed her and she refused eye contact. "Yeah." She agreed, her cheeks pinkening.

[devilinsheepswool]

Obey Me! MC Character Sheet

Thanks to @kyungi-i for the spred sheet! I've seen others do it and thought why not me?

Name: Alisa Moreno

Nickname: Ally, Lisa, Li-Li, Al, Isa, Moreno

Age: 18

Height: 5'3

Weight: 170

Race: Human

Gender: ♀️

Birthday: April 13

Star Sign: Aries

Hair Color: Brown (pink streaks)

Eye Color: Brown

Skin: Brown/freckled

Demon brother, she is most to least like:

1. Levi

2. Belphie

3. Satan

4. Lucifer

5. Beel

6. Mammon

7. Asmo

Personality: she's pretty cynical and pessimistic, she also seems very aloof but somehow has a way of knowing a little bit of everything that's going on. When she wants to be she can be very observative and dedicated to her work, otherwise, she can come off as lazy, or disinterested just as much as aloof. Her snide personality comes off subtle mostly due to her wallflower and nerdish appearance. And she does have trouble getting to know other people due to her self-consciousness, low self-esteem and social anxiety; all of which she masks under witty remarks, jokes, and sarcasm. She puts up walls and its difficult to get to know her past surface level, despite it all Lisa does have a soft side and softens up around people that have a natural kindness and positivity about them or are straightforward. She has a good sixth sense, which helps her be an extremely good judge of character more often than not she is correct about her intuition regarding others' intentions towards her. Lastly, she has a bad habit of acting out and deliberately going against authority, she doesn't like feeling controlled and being told what to do. She'll usually follow the rules because she can't be bothered with the effort to break them but if she feels like someone's trying to control her or that she's being patronized then she will deliberately go out of her way to break the rules.

Background: Before coming down to Devildom, Lisa, despite only being 18 had already finished all her schooling, including higher education. Back on earth, she was recognized as a child prodigy in her research on historical documents and records, despite her early achievements at such an early age, the pressure of being placed on such a high pedestal career-wise eventually got to her and she fizzled out. Growing up an orphan without a past or family, the academy she worked for and her work was all she had, after she cracked due to the pressure she ran away hoping to live out the youth she felt she had never experienced in childhood. At age 16 she was a runaway and going under a different name. She lived on the streets and squatted in abandoned buildings for a few months before she met some people that offered to help her. During this time she developed an interest in music seeing as the people who helped her were a musical band full of teens just like her.

In order to stay with them, she lied to them about the truth of who she was and why she ran away. She stayed with one of the band members she had become close to during her initial days of having met them. While she stayed with them she learned how to play several instruments and eventually sing as well. She went on to perform with them but after two years of playing with them musical difference surged and a fight broke out, after which Alisa decided to run away again. It was during her second night of squatting in an abandoned house that she woke up in Devildom.

Hobbies: Music; Singing, Electric Guitar, Violin.

Likes: Sweets, Reading, Music, Animals, Writing, Video Games and drawing.

Dislikes: Liars, being lied to, math, meddling (Ironically), cruelty, injustice/unfairness and short tempers. Words that sound one way but are spelled another, or that sound like they mean one thing and then mean something else.

Appearance:

She's fairly average height. She's on the plump side, with a rounded face that makes her look baby-faced. She has freckles but due to her brown skin they're difficult to notice. Her eyes are rounded and large despite the dark circles brought on by years of bad sleeping. Her hair is short in a bob cut and wavy/curly, usually, she has a singular braid running down her left side. She wears glasses to see and prefers to wear loose-fitting clothing except for at performances. She tends to dress on the nerdy side.

Casual Clothing -

• Top: Sky Blue sweater rather loose fitting sweater over a white button up blouse.

• Bottom: plaid moss green skirt. Over the knee length, style is somewhat pencil skirt. Black tights under skirt.

• Shoes: Brown Boots.

• Accessories: star-shaped hair clip, silver necklace with a star pendant, a bunch of woven, or leather, or beaded bracelets. 

• Glasses: Yes. Black plain.

Uniform:

Alterations?

Not many, she wears the uniform properly a skirt version with the same black tights underneath the skirt. And a light blue tie on her uniforms blouse.

• Mother: N/A

• Father: N/A

• Siblings: N/A

• Pets: A black cat she adopted during the first time she ran away, she found her in one of the abandoned buildings fed her and the cat kept following her after that. Her name is Pandora.

• Friends: Prior to joining the band Alisa had none, after joining the band she made 2, Lydia and Florence. The lead singer and drummer of the band, respectively. She stayed with Florence and her grandmother during her time in the band.

• Past Relationships:

She had a mentor/advisor who eventually became a colleague when she finally started working with the academy. She was very close to her and was her only actual relationship. Her relationship with Dr. Aver was the closest she's ever had to a familial relationship. In the early stages of their relationship Aver became endeared with a rather small and young Alisa and tried to offer her the closest thing to a family she could through her and her husband. While they had a solid well-going relationship, they hit an obstacle when Aver was offered a position teaching at a highly prestigious institution abroad. Aver tried to keep connected long distance but it all came to an end when Alisa ran away.

Alisa dated three times during her time in the band the first relationship was bad from the start and ended badly, the second and third one ended with Alisa self-sabotaging herself due to the first bad experience. All occurred relatively back to back during the first year and half of her being in the band.

The first one though was the longest one, which lasted for 9 months. The last two were relatively short-lasting about a month to two each.

Sexuality: Unsure, possibly Pan.

Have they been in love before?

Because of her first toxic relationship and overall young age, at the time Alisa is hesitant to say that she ever was truly in love in any of her past relationships. But she was the most heartbroken with the ending of her 3rd relationship. Prior to her third relationship, the other two were mainly out of curiosity for exploring with dating than actual love.

How easily do they gain crushes?

Not easy, she wasn't aware of her feelings towards her third (future) partner until she was in her second relationship, her feelings for her 3rd future partner had started amidst her 1st relationship when it started going downhill.

Do they believe in love?

She doesn't really have an opinion on it, she's rather cynical and with her negative past experiences you would think she doesn't believe in it anymore if she ever had, but honestly, it's not something she's thought about that much. She's just experiencing life as she goes, maybe someday...

What's their type:

Alisa is the type of person to look for what she's missing in her life in someone else; she's typically drawn to kind, warm-hearted people, more likely than not optimists with positive personalities. You get the sense that she's into the "angelic" type (thus her third ex/first love) with a strong moral compass always set on doing right. Of course, this being her type doesn’t mean it’s what suits her the best. Mixed with her low self-esteem, a relationship with her ideal type may turn out to be hazardous as she might end up over-idealizing the person or self-sabotaging once again due to low self-worth as well.  

Which of the 7 brothers is her favorite?

That's a tough one she likes both Mammon and Levi but couldn't pick a favorite between both. Although Beel is also a strong contender for her favorite.

Why?

Mammon, despite not being honest about what he truly thinks about her is easy to read and has always been there for her when she's truly needed him, he's stepped in to save her multiple times and she knows he clearly worries about her. She's grateful to him despite his antics, and is able to look past the big cool guy/bad boy facade he puts on and appreciate him for being there when she really needs him.

Levi, she actually sees a lot of herself in him. Especially, a lot of her from prior to her first run away. She relates to his hermit-like personality because prior to running away she was like that as well. She can also sympathize and empathize with his obvious insecurities and wants to more than anything be there to reassure him and help become more secure of himself. Despite not being a total weeb like Levi, during her time in the band she did develop some interest in anime and manga, just not as passionate as Levi's.

What do they look for in a partner?

Ideally, she likes kind-hearted, empathetic people but speaking practically she'd prefer an honest straightforward person easy to read that doesn't try to play mind games or control her. Someone patient and that can reassure her when she doubts herself, and most importantly someone that will call her out when she needs to be. She doesn't want someone that will coddle, pamper, or try to spoil her like a little doll and let her get away with things that are prick-ish. She's good at keeping herself in check but she'd like the reassurance that someone will call her out if she slips up without noticing.

General -

Fav. Food: Tamales, but she also loves Cheeseburgers and Milkshakes.

Least Favorite: Meatloaf, Eggnog, Rasin Muffins, Salmon.

Favorite color: blue & green

Least Favorite: White or Neons

Sociable or Recluse? Both, she can be something of an ambivert but prefers to be more reserved due to her majority introvertness.

Favorite Movie Genre: Droll Comedy, or Action Political Thrillers/govt. conspiracy, K-drama's

Reader or not? Very much a reader, liked it and eventually it was what her job required of her in order to conduct her research.

Favorite Animals: She likes cats and dogs, but she also has an ample love for animals of all kinds but especially the ones that can be found in the woods; Owls, Raccoons, Wolves, Crows. Her favorite however has to be the Fox.

Favorite Music Genre: Rock, though she's big on ceremonials and sea shanties as well, and loves testing her vocal range with gregorian chants and Hymns.

Least Favorite: Country

Do they like sweets?

BIG YES.

Do they like spicy food?

👌👌👌👌

Do they like school?

Not so much like but she was good at it, and a majority of her life was dedicated and depended on it, overall she doesn't have bad memories about school perse, so I guess you could say that she does.

Pet Peeves:

Loud food chewing, bad breath, meddling in her business, being patronized, people pointing out her baby face, people trying to manipulate, use or lie to her.

[breanswebzone]

It is with great sadness that I am informing you, fans of this tumblr site, that breanswedzone died of natural causes this weekend. These are the words of breans jr, his son, who despite being discussed from time to time on here in a somewhat vulgar fashion, has decided to honor and continue breans legacy on this platform. 

This was breans senior’s favourite song of all time, and to start off my writings on this site, I have decided to post in full a review of this record that breans wrote, back when he was writing music reviews on a regular basis (what a loser). hahah, just kidding, I love my dad. Anyway, here’s the review..

The Replacements huh, geez, what a bunch of drunks! Whether it be their awesome appearance on SNL wherein Paul Westerberg audibly commanded Bob Stinson to 'come on, fucker!' (you know what I say about vulgarity, but I’m willing to let the boys off the hook, ehhhh it’s ROCK AND ROLL MUSIC after all) or their reputation as a hard drinking, 'let it all hang out' kinda live act, The Replacements sure seem an unlikely bunch to have crafted not one but two proto indie masterpieces. To the initiated this is not so surprising, because when it comes to the accuracy of their playing, they're more than capable of putting the oversimplification of their sound (see above), written about all too often, to bed. Even in their early stages as a hardcore group (when Tommy Stinson was just 14) they really had their act together when they wanted to. Check out this fantastic live performance from 1982 and listen out for Something to Du - they're not the tightest band on the planet but boy do they tear it up there. Tim arrived one year after their canonised Let it Be, and to my taste happens to be the stronger record - not that it actually matters a rats ass which of whose record I like more than whatever - only to say that I'm listening to it today because it's actually one of my very, very favourite albums, and to be honest I probably haven't gone a week in a year or so where I haven't played a song on this thing. Lets deal with that one big black sheep straight away, you know the one... that big, stupid mess; Dose of Thunder does indeed kind of suck even though about 40% of the time I play it I find myself really enjoying it. The other 60% though... not even Bob's admittedly cool solo can save it. A lot of people seem to disregard Lay it Down Clown in the same way, and although I agree it doesn't match the peaks here (very few things do), it's so much more fun and energetic. If you play it really loud the Replacements turn into this supercharged rock and roll band for two and a half dumb minutes and it's kind of awesome. In terms of guitarist/singer combos that just really seem to get each other, it doesn't come much more profound than Stinson/Westerberg. There's a desperation in Paul's voice when he sings something like 'if being afraid is a crime we hang side by side' in Swingin Party that really makes you believe him where you perhaps wouldn't someone else. Bob's little solo moment in the middle of the track takes the lyric right where it left off and turns it into a few relaxed phrases that couldn't do a better job of echoing his counterpart sonically. You can't fake that stuff, these guys meant every word they said on here - in other words, powerful songwriting. Similarly, check out the guitar work on one of the other soaring peaks of this record; Left of the Dial, in which the jangle of R.E.M. meets the power pop of Big Star in a comparison so overused that it's almost redundant. Just those opening seconds alone tell you a lot about what's going on here; the longing, a sense of retrospect, love, and most importantly of all, a sense of hope that the singer knows is in fact hopeless; everything is temporary. And then Paul just belts out the tune and it culminates in that little run down that the bass does and that kind of goofy snare finisher to wrap everything up. A perfect song. I just love it so much. There's a lot of fun to be had on the rest of the album here, and certainly plenty more curiously profound moments. The last 20 seconds of Kiss Me on the Bus makes an already great track, I'll buy features Stinson letting rip some really sharp fills, Waitress in the Sky adds a lot of charm to an already deeply personal and character filled first side, while Here Comes a Regular wraps it all up in a truly surprising ode to wasted days and a sense of drunken depression that really sticks with you long after the album has finished. The Replacements weren't just alcoholics, they were the epitome of what makes rock and roll music resonate with so many people - you can hear it in the shout at the beginning of Bastards of Young, the final chorus of Little Mascara. Hold my life because I just might lose it. RIP Bob Stinson.  

Anyway, there it is. Kind of a idiot to have wasted probably an hour or so of his miserable life on a piece of crap like that but it kept the old fella happy for a while. God bless you breans senior!

Here’s to more breanswebzone content, minus the stupid word plays, and plus a whole lot of extreme shit, curated by yours truly, breans jr.