#this definitely wasn’t a silly little cowboy story

[tubareads]

I don’t think I’ve read such an emotional fix in a long time, to the point where I had to immediately reread it to process everything. This was just so good and so heart wrenching 😭 loved the world building and I felt so much for the main characters, I’m really rooting for them even though they aren’t too thing for themselves 😭😭😭

My Life in Your Hands

Song: Cien Años, Natalia Lafourcade, Pepe Aguilar

“The life of a detective hasn’t always been so lonely; you knew how to trust, once. But after being shown the dangers of vulnerability, you choose to keep it safe and focus on more important matters— completing your mission and stopping a certain outlaw that dares open a door you long ago lost the key to.”

criminal!Soobin x detective!reader

Genre: enemies to… reluctant enemies? It’s weird. Mutual pining, angst, smut, he’s a cowboy your honor 

word count: 7.9K

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, guns, death, violence, blood, injuries, pet names (mostly anything with “pretty” in front of it.)

Smut Warnings: no established dom/sub dynamics, they’re just really hurt and angry, marking, possessiveness, dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, manhandling, cum eating,  teasing, begging, scratching, multiple orgasms, creampie 

Notes: this turned out so much sadder than I meant it to be?? It was just supposed to be a silly cowboy story, how did I get here… also, the song is really fitting… sad, but fitting. If you’re curious about anything after reading, feel free to ask me on my blog!

The air becomes tense the moment you step into the bar. 

It’s quiet— too quiet, the people seated around you leaning in and whispering secretly as though their conversations were dangerous. The air is foggy and dense with smoke as the customers drink under low lights, eyes shifting from the singer onstage to you, taking your figure in before they’re moving on to the next eye-catching thing. 

This bar is made up of regulars— everyday customers and familiar faces that nod to each other, waving over their favorite waitresses as they ask for another glass of whiskey— and her time, if she’s willing. The sight practically makes you gag, the wooden chair creaking lowly beneath you as you lean back to inspect the place; your hat is low on your head as you slowly scan the room, hyper-aware of every movement that is being made around you.

“How can I help you today ma’am?” The server before you is pretty, her perfectly rouge lips sculpted into an impeccable smile as she flutters her lashes sweetly at you; all you can do is softly dismiss her, asking for a simple glass of water as you try to ignore the confusion on her face. 

“ ‘m just waiting for someone, is all,” your voice is gruff as you find an odd need to clarify your behavior that might seem strange, a slight relief entering your system as you see her brightly nod in understanding before she’s off. 

You’re not here to drink at all, you think somberly, eyes flitting back to the main entrance for just a moment, but you’re not completely lying about waiting for someone. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the loud arguments that continue to build up to your left, the table next to you suddenly becoming fussy over a game of poker. Yet you pay them no mind, the dull glint of the guns in their holsters giving you more than enough of a warning to not spare them so much as a dirty look. 

“Here you are ma’am,” the waitress says, daintily placing down a glass of water before she’s standing straight, clearing her throat as you barely regard her, “let me know if there’s anything else you need.” 

A nod is all you give her— your attention is much more focused on the young man that enters the bar, quietly slipping in as he makes his way toward you. He’s tall, dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket that contrasts greatly with the white button-up he wears. His shoes click softly to the beat of the singer’s song, arms lazily swinging by his sides as he reaches up to adjust his pristine, white cowboy hat.

Looking down, you allow your own hat to obscure your view as you feel him walk past you, the slight breeze he leaves behind allowing you to catch a whiff of his cologne— then he’s sitting, the loud screech of the chair against the wooden floor making you wince slightly as he allows himself to get comfortable. 

“Gentlemen,” you hear him say, the sight of him nodding to the same loud patrons from earlier being caught in your peripheral vision. His voice is soft and deep, and it only lowers more as he leans into the table, the rest following along as they begin to discuss a seemingly urgent matter. 

You try to listen in— you really do— but you’re unable to pick up on anything, your teeth gritting together in frustration as it all becomes incoherent mumbling to your ears. But then, you hear it— “reward money.”

You’re practically on the edge of your seat as you look forward, seemingly mesmerized by the woman on stage as your fingers drum along absentmindedly to the music. To any outsider, you’d look entirely drawn in by her performance— but it’s far from that. You think your ears might strain from how hard you attempt to listen in, a frown on your face as you’re only able to pick up on a few keywords; they all mash together until he pulls out a heavy key from his pocket, the sound of it a dull thud against the wooden table.

“Careful now boys,” he scolds, immediately placing a protective hand over it as the others attempt to snatch it away. His fingers are slender and careful as they wrap around the item, slowly picking it up before he’s stashing it away safely in an inner breast pocket— briefly, you allow yourself to steal a glance as your eyes hone in on the sight. 

“I worked mighty hard for that little key you saw there,” he pouts, leaning back in his seat as his arms are crossed over his chest firmly, the thick muscle showing even under the layers and dim lighting, “I think it’s time we discuss my payment.”

“How do we know you’re not cheatin’ us?” A man chimes in, a frown on his face as he leans on his elbows, “for all we know, that key could be a fake.”

“A fake?” The man scoffs, laughing softly as his brows raise in bewilderment, “you know I’d never do that you guys.” 

His words begin to become drowned out in your mind, much more focused instead on how you’re going to take that key away from them— and leave in one piece, of course. 

There are five of them now, you calculate, sparing a glance to the rest of the bar, no doubt that there are more of Yeonjun’s goons lying around as well. 

It’s surprising to see that the leader of his own gang isn’t present to take charge of the transaction, but you’re sure that he’s found other ways to entertain himself— briefly, your eyes wander back to the bar and its excess of pretty women; you grimace at your thoughts and its implications. 

Instead, his right-hand man seems to be present in his place— though, you’ve always thought Hueningkai had too much of a short temper to be a proper leader. Even now, your theory proves to be true, the young man glaring daggers at the sly man before them, clearly doubting every word he’s told as his posture remains stiff. 

“Come on now, you know Yeonjun wouldn’t have approved of this if he couldn’t trust me,” the man says, tipping back his hat as his narrowed eyes come into the light, “Why don’t you just give me the money now and hunt me down later if it makes you feel better.” 

You’re in disbelief that this man would be willing to give up this key so easily— whatever they’re offering, it must be more than enough.

There’s not a price that compares to what he has in his pocket, you think, just as suspicious as the substitute leader as you try not to glance back at the table again, it would be foolish to give it up now. 

That key could guarantee an easy life— the key to a hidden vault, filled to the brim with gold and smuggled treasures from the fortune of one of the greatest leaders that ever hit the underground crime scene; The late Kim Namjoon would be fuming if he knew it managed to slip out of his unknown heir’s hands. 

Then again, many speculate that it wasn’t a simple key that would open this vault— he was a great mind after all, and Kim Namjoon would not let such a flimsy security measure stick; it is rumored that the key that is currently slid across that wooden table is only the first step to acquiring the fortune. 

Your job is to see if that rumor proves to be true. 

The sound of a heavy briefcase brings you out of your daze— the recipient doesn’t even bother peering inside as a wide grin is spread across his face, thanking them as they all stand to leave; he doesn’t stand with them, bidding them goodbye and safe travels as he eagerly waves them away— it is silent, save for the sound of his whiskey glass hitting the table after he downed it; clicking his tongue, he sighs.

“Pretty lady, whatcha thinkin’ bout over there?”

His loud call doesn’t phase you; your fingernails dig into the wood as you trace shapes on it, not bothering to look at the sound of a chair being dragged against the wood. Slow, calculated steps come closer to you, and the thud of his briefcase comes first before the thud of his body falling into the chair. 

“Couldn’t solve the puzzle,” you pause, looking up as you catch the way the man’s smile widens as your eyes meet his, “Soobin?”

“Oh please,” he says, tilting his head as he leans forward, hand on his chin as he takes your appearance in, “you know all their brains put together couldn’t even amount to half of mine.” 

You roll your eyes at the thought— he’s as narcissistic as always.

“Too much work then?” You muse, pouting as a finger circles the rim of your glass mindlessly, “you gave it up so easily.”

“You hurt me, pretty girl,” Soobin says, a pout to match yours gracing his lips as he shakes his head, “you’ve always been one to underestimate me.”

“What is it, then?” You say, your voice hardening as you attempt to come up with reasoning for his actions, “what number could they have possibly given you that made you give up that key?” 

He tuts at your tone of voice— completely dismissive of the glare you fix him, he clicks his tongue as he feigns getting lost in thought; it isn’t long before a fiendish smile sneaks onto his lips. 

“There isn’t a price in the world that would make me hand that key over,” he says, leaning in so close that you think he might just pounce at you— but he doesn’t, sending you a wink instead, “Now I have to go before the chase begins.”

He’s taking off before you know it— the suitcase is left behind, and you’re out of your seat before you can second guess yourself. You kick the suitcase open— there’s nothing but paper in there. 

It was a setup. 

The absence of music is suddenly much more apparent to you— there are no workers around, and the silence is quickly filled by the bullets that come your way; the chair beside you breaks to pieces from the impact of the stray shots. 

You’re quick to flip the table on its side— even quicker to run away, only able to take down a few of Yeonjun’s men before you’re running out of bullets, the rest of the patrons much more involved as they partake in the fight that breaks out. The calming music that once filled the air is now replaced by bullets and the dull thuds of bodies falling around you; the familiar bark of Yeonjun’s voice reaches your ears, followed by hurried footsteps and mumbles of Soobin’s and your names. 

“That fuckin’ detective got some real guts, showin’ up and sittin’ beside us like that,” Yeonjun grits out, kicking away any obstacles as he continues his search, firing at every person that attempts to reach for their weapon and aim it at him.

“I know you’re still here, detective!” Yeonjun yells, fuming as he steps on the bullet wound of a patron— the scream of agony echoes throughout the place as you wince at the sound, “come out now and I’ll go easy on you!”

The only other exit is behind the bar in the employee’s lounge— and by now you’ve crawled your way into some random nook that you can feel your limbs beginning to tense, your teeth sinking into your tongue as you try to ignore the pool of blood from a nearby body that is slowly inching towards you.

“We could work together, even!” He muses, eyeing the place as he signals for his people to leave— he’s attempting to convince you, trying to make you feel more secure as the sight of an equal match could lower your guard. 

“We’re both after the same thing, right?” He says, spinning his gun before he’s firing off into some unknown hiding spot— the shot rings a long closer than you’d like, and you’re barely able to pick up on the offhanded oops that Yeonjun lets out. 

“I knew Soobin would cross me,” he sneers, firing again as he makes his way around the bar, “yet I still gave him the benefit of the doubt— sneaky little thing, that one.” 

Slowly, he makes his way to the center of the bar; he stops, surveying the area for any other places you might be. 

“I know how hard you’ve been workin’ to catch him— to catch both of us. How bout this,” he clicks his tongue, staring down at the barrel of his gun before he’s aiming it again, “work with me, and we’ll catch him— together! I’ll let you take all the credit for his capture… and you let a couple of my things slide under the table.” 

The shot is fired— the sound that rips through you is uncontrollable, the bullet that lodges itself in your bicep catching you off guard as you break the skin of your lip. Your attempt to put pressure on the wound is futile, and your mind is racing to find a way to escape. Looking up, you find that Yeonjun is already looming over you.

“There you are, cutie.”

 You flinch at the sight of him kicking away the debris that hid you so well; his foot stomps down, your eyes shutting instinctively as the blood of someone unknown splashes onto your face— the feeling makes you want to gag.

But you hold it all back as you’re being pulled up roughly, a weak groan leaving you as Yeonjun’s fingers dig into your wound— your mind is spinning so quickly that you’re helpless against the way he slams you against the wall, your cheek pressed against it as he restrains you.

“Quite the offer I put up, hmm?” He says, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he’s forcing you to look at him, “I’d take it if I were you.”

You don’t respond to his words; you know better than to make a deal with Yeonjun, but you’d rather have him think he’s got the upper hand while you wait for a vulnerable moment to appear. 

“Tempting,” you remark, frowning at the way his grip becomes bruising on your arm, “if I were as power-hungry as you.” 

“You’re quite the mean little thing, aren’t you?” He sighs, and your head is roughly pressed against the wall once more, “see, if we’re gonna work together, I don’t think I’d be able to put up with all that— that is of course unless you’d like to die instead.” 

The barrel of his gun is cool against your skin— slowly, the hammer of his revolver is pulled, and the glint in his eyes is unmistakable as he appears in your peripheral vision. 

“I know how fond you’ve been getting of our little friend,” he pouts, a mocking tone to his voice as he leans against you, “but I’d advise you to choose wisely here.” 

You’re trapped— he’s got you, and good, Yeonjun knows this— you see the way he grins at you, waiting patiently for you to decide as the pressure on your temple slowly begins to become worse; the innocent smile he sends you as you glare back at him does nothing to make you feel better. 

What other choice do you have? There’s nothing good that can come out of making a deal with Yeonjun, but you’ve come too far to give it all up now— shakily, you clear your throat, trying to find the words that only seem lodged in your throat. 

Yet, it seems to be your lucky day. 

The pressure at your temple is lifted as Yeonjun groans in pain, the shot still ringing throughout the bar as you take this moment to run, kicking his gun away before you do— and without realizing it, you effortlessly make your way to Soobin’s open arms. 

“Can’t believe you would trade me in like that,” you pay no mind to the way his arm wraps around yours protectively, attempting to shrug him off before he’s pulling you back to him. 

“If you go out now, you’ll die. There’s too many of them out there for you to go like that,” He hisses into your ear, leading you to the back exit and tucking you under his frame as he crouches down low, “just follow me.” 

You’re given no choice with the way your blood is beginning to seep through the cracks of your fingers— you need to get it treated, and fast. The sounds of Yeonjun’s men storming in is enough to have you urging Soobin to hurry, the two of you slipping out from the back and into the night sky. 

It’s foggy and humid as the pavement beneath you is still wet from the rainfall, and you’re far too surprised the moment that Soobin forces the two of you to take off into a sprint— quietly sneaking behind buildings and homes of those who are peacefully asleep. 

“Did you come here on foot?!” You hiss, your arm beginning to take a toll on you as your energy begins to seep out— you can hear the familiar clammer of hooves on the streets as Yeonjun’s people begin their search, only half the size as the others were left to protect their leader. 

“Of course not,” Soobin scoffs, and it isn’t long before you spot a horse tied to the post of a closed shop, “Just stationed myself at a safer distance.” 

The horse is sleek and taken care of— all of its equipment is pristine and expensive as Soobin assists you on, ignoring your protests and groans of pain as he scoots up closer behind you. 

“Grab on tight, pretty thing,” he says, gripping onto the reins as his thighs close around yours, “might be a bit of a bumpy ride.”

You don’t get another chance to adjust before he’s taking off, your body pressed against his as you feel the exhaustion of it all begin to take a toll on you. Your shirt is soaked and sticky— yet the pain has dulled down significantly as you fight to stay alert, unsure of what Soobin is planning as you race down empty, lonelier streets. 

The homes slowly become sparse— before you know it, you’re surrounded by trees, the terrain switching from pavement to the unstable grounds of the forest. The ride could almost be considered calming— that is, until a sudden gunshot has your eyes snapping wide open, stiffening up against Soobin’s chest as he commands his horse to go faster. 

“Stupid fucker found us,” Soobin grits, glancing back at the single person who managed to keep track of Soobin and your whereabouts. His shots are getting increasingly closer, and Soobin’s horse can only go so fast— before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching at his hip with your uninjured arm, taking the gun from his holster before you’re twisting dangerously to face back. 

“Hey, hey!” The sound of a gun being fired so close to his ear has Soobin losing control of his horse for a second, sending you a glare that would immediately make anyone wilt. But you ignore it, stretching out your good arm as you attempt to fire at the person chasing you once more, “watch it, are you crazy? You’re gonna fall!” 

You’re practically ready to slip off with the way you’re forced to twist around, Soobin’s arm flying to secure itself on your waist as you two go over a rocky spot— the sudden movement makes you wince as you miss another shot.

“I don’t have infinite bullets either now!” He says, sneaking a glance back before he’s back to rushing his horse, “you better aim right if you’re gonna hit him!” 

“I’m trying!” You bark, gritting your teeth at his insults, “it’d help a lot if you’d shut up!”

You can tell he’s getting ready to say something— but he holds back, cursing under his breath as his grip on your waist secures. Slowly, you take a deep breath; it’s hard to spot your target in such a dark forest, but as you attempt to take a moment to concentrate, you’re finally able to get a clear shot— the relief that floods through you is unexpected as you slump against Soobin’s hold.

“Easy there, don’t go all soft on me either,” he says, twisting you back around before he’s caging you in; he feels warm, the feeling oddly welcomed as exhaustion threatens to creep up on you. Attempting to fight it back, you find it to be much more persistent than before— which is why you feel a tinge of panic when your eyelids become uncontrollably heavy. 

“Just a little bit more,” you hear Soobin say, his voice a muffled mess to your ears, “I’ll patch you up then.”

With the ride much calmer than it was moments ago, you finally find it in yourself to rest. 

✩ ☆ ✩

“Here, slowly,” Soobin’s bed is soft as he slowly guides you down on it, attempting to ignore the way you wince in pain from the awkward angle your arm remains in. He quickly leaves to get supplies to patch you up, and you take a moment to regain your composure. 

It’s strange— his home is cozy, well-decorated, and clearly used a lot. For someone like him, you’d expect something more barren; he has no pictures, no true personal touches that could link this small cabin to him— but it’s intimate nonetheless, the smell of him filling the air and mixing in with the faint scent of a candle that sits at his nightstand. 

You don’t get much of a chance to look around as Soobin quickly returns— his jacket and hat have been discarded, and you take in his appearance as you wince at the state of his white button-up; now coated red on the right side with your blood. Meeting his eyes, you frown— his dyed hair is ruffled messily as he lays down his supplies next to you, placing down a short stool before he’s sitting down in front of you, knees knocking your legs open carelessly as he situates himself between them.

“Your shirt— here, let me…” Slowly, he moves to cut the sleeve for better access; you stop him midway, your uninjured hand hesitantly reaching for the buttons of your shirt instead. 

You really don’t have to, you hear him mumble, slightly panicked, but you shake your head, knowing it’d be much easier for you to take the item off than to have him struggle with the fabric around your injury. It’s quiet, your eyes much more focused on a point behind him as you carefully shrug off your sullied shirt— he’s quick to assist you, his gentle hands brushing against the warm skin of your shoulders as he places the shirt to the side. 

Shakily, your eyes meet his; his eyes are focused as they take in the state of your wound, brows furrowed and his lip caught in his teeth as he winces at how messy the injury has become. It’s oddly tense— you haven’t been this close to Soobin in a long time, quiet and vulnerable as you allow him to take care of you. 

Sweat begins to bead on your skin as he begins to take a hold of your arm, examining the wound once more before he begins the process of trying to take the bullet out— a small warning is all you get before he offhandedly points at a pillow nearby for you to hold onto. 

Instead, your hand immediately finds purchase on his thigh— it’s instinctive, and you don’t stop to gauge his reaction as your fingers hold on desperately, gritting your teeth as you bear the uncomfortable feeling of Soobin taking out the bullet.

It’s quiet, but you can hear soft words of praise and reassurance fall from his lips, kind words that serve to encourage you as he finally takes the small bullet out; the piece is carefully put onto a tissue that is left to be discarded. You attempt to remain silent as he cleans your injury, clearing off the dried blood that ran down your arm as he softly brushes the wet cloth against your skin. It isn’t until you’re all clean that he begins to apply alcohol to it as well. 

“Shit— sorry,” you grit, startled by the sudden sting as he immediately pulls away, whispering an apology of his own before hesitantly tending to you again. After a moment, your body becomes relaxed in his hold once more, allowing him to gain the confidence to tend to you freely again. 

The stitches don’t feel too bad; he’s awful skilled, the action quick and effortless as you keep quiet through it all, the feeling of the gauze wrapping around your bicep and applying subtle pressure to your wound finally giving you the relief you didn’t know you needed. 

Soobin looks more at ease as well— and before you can pick up on what he’s doing, he’s taking your uninjured hand gingerly, his fingers delicate as he holds onto your wrist lightly. The cloth in his hand is warm as he wipes you with it, thoroughly taking each of your fingers as he wipes off all the blood that managed to cake on; then, it slowly moves up to your face, cleaning off the blood of someone unknown as your eyes meet Soobin’s; your lips part as you stare at him, unsure of what to do as he remains concentrated on his task.

He looks so different from before— there’s a heavy look in his eyes, as though the life he’s lived has been filling itself with nothing but regrets. And as you take in the way his hand lingers, carefully caressing your cheek, you wonder bitterly if this was one of them.

“Why are you doing all this?” You ask, your voice much softer than you expected it to be— there’s no more energy to be malicious to him, only exhaustion and a burning curiosity left in you as you watch him hesitate to answer. 

“I couldn’t let them take you like that,” he says, a frown settling on his features as he slowly pulls away— the absence of his touch feels jarring, your hand curling into a fist as you listen to him speak, “they would’ve used you to get what they wanted from me.”

“What, too scared that I would’ve caught you?” You quip, oddly angered that even now, all he can think of is himself. You don’t know why the words feel so poisonous on your tongue, the anger that ignites inside you only stirring more as you watch the way he becomes angered by your accusation. 

“They would have a hold of my greatest weakness,” he grits out, as though admiring it aloud brings him another wave of anger. His eyes stare at the tight fist that rests on your thigh— then they meet yours, narrowed and pointed as his lips turn down in distaste.

“You.” 

The word feels like a punch to the stomach— you can feel the air leave your lungs as you stare at him, unsure of what to make out of his words as he stares at you with that same fire in his eyes, a fire that is unwilling to back down on his claim.

His greatest weakness— you. And he would be damned if he let Yeonjun of all people lay their hands on you, free to do as they pleased as they used you for leverage— or worse, used you to kill him. 

“Stop spouting nonsense,” you say, an unknown rage blooming within you as he regards you with such a fire, “you showed me just how much you cared the day you turned your back to our work and all we stood for.”

The memory is enough to leave a bitter taste on your tongue; you can tell the mention of it is enough to have him back down like a wounded puppy, unsure of how to respond to that. 

You trusted Soobin, once— and you learned your lesson when he pushed you out of his life, turning to a life of shadows as your partner you once trusted your life with became no better than the everyday criminals you went after. The humiliation of it all set deep into your bones— a deep grudge that reared its head even now, when Soobin seemed to be ready to come back to ask for forgiveness. 

“___,” the sound of your name on his lips is bittersweet. His effect on you is unrivaled, a fact you wish wasn’t true as you attempt to hide the way the sound sends electric shocks through you. He’s somber, his eyes searching yours in hopes of breaking through and finding an emotion akin to his, “you have no idea how much I cared.” 

“I have full access to the vault.” His words clear your mind out effortlessly, “I’m the heir.”

The heir to the fortune— the new leader of the crime syndicate Kim Namjoon spent years building up under the shadows. The man before you was not who he claimed to be— he never was. Hesitantly, he takes your hand— he’s shaky, fingers lacing with yours as he leans into you, long legs knocking against yours as the space he made for yourself becomes wider. There’s a new emotion that coats his face, free and unadulterated as he looks deeply into your eyes.

“Join me.” His words are breathy as you stare at him, confused, angry, hesitant. “You’ll never have to worry about anything again— I could care for you.”  

Your hand feels like fire in his— you pull away like you’ve been burned, disbelief on your face as Soobin stares at you like a scolded child, doe eyes soft and shining under the soft lights of the lamp on his nightstand. 

“I—“ it’s hard to speak— why is it so hard? The words are stuck on your tongue as you stare at him, the man you cared for so deeply, offering a chance to start over. A chance you’ve dreamed about since the day he disappeared from you, a chance that you never allowed yourself to properly hope for, and it’s finally being presented to you.

“I can’t.” 

Soobin knew your answer before he asked— there was never any other option for you. But the pain, the confusion you feel building within you is much more unexpected, your mind fogging as the reality of it all begins to set in. 

“This whole time…” you begin, brows furrowed as the conflicting emotions form a torrent within you, wild and uncontrollable as your mouth enables them to be let loose. 

“You knew everything. What his group was doing, where he was, how to catch him—“ your eyes flick back to his, wounded and sharp in hopes of getting him to the same level as you, “you knew it all. Yet you lied in my face, led me on whenever I thought we finally had a lead.” 

“And yet you beg me to believe that you still care for me?” 

He shakes his head, reluctant to give up as he attempts to reassure you again. 

“I’m sorry— I wasn’t in control of my life back then. I never meant to hurt you,” his attempts to dissuade your feelings are futile, for his claims do nothing but egg you on even more. 

“The moment I leave this cabin,” you growl, glaring at him as you speak, “we will be nothing more but enemies. Forget everything about me. You’ll become my one target from this moment on.” 

A new resolve has formed on your face— Soobin knows you’ll never hate him more than you do now. 

“Your life will be in my hands.”

“The moment you leave this cabin…” he whispers, determined to see you crack, for even a small moment longer, “I will no longer hold back on you. My sweet killer…” 

He’s so close— why would you let him get so close? His lips are practically brushing against yours, eyes lidded and low as he leans towards you, your head tilted down as his puppy eyes continue to shine, even now. 

“Give me one last memory to keep of you.” 

The feeling of your lips crashing against his is unexpected; but the anger inside you is too hot, too rapid for you to simply leave like this. You’ve lived your life filled with regrets— what’s one more going to do to you?

Soobin’s hum of surprise is muffled by your kiss that threatens to take him whole— your yearning, so eager and greedy, is like a switch to him; he’s chasing after you, leaning into your touch desperately as his hands meet the skin of your bare waist. His touch leaves a trail of fire, caressing and smoothing out the skin as he feels every scar, sees every bruise, any detail that he might be able to ingrain into his mind. 

Your back sinks into the mattress— you’re unsure of when Soobin decided to become so greedy, the kiss rough as he allows himself to bite at your lip, his hair soft against your face as a trail of kisses and marks are left along the column of your neck. His touch will be left for weeks to come— he’s determined to make it so, determined to make you have to face your reflection and the memory of him, the memory of his want for you. 

Tangled limbs, pressure against your body— the act is messy and desperate as Soobin has half the mind to leave your injured arm as undisturbed as possible, supporting his weight on one arm as he allows the other to explore your body; trailing up your waist, fingers tracing along the expanse of your chest, ready to take your bra off with ease. Your hand is careless as it rips away his buttons, desperate to have him the same way he has you. 

His chest is smooth and sturdy— his muscles are firm under your touch, honey skin littered with bruises and scars that have your fingertips tracing along them, briefly wondering what stories might belong with them, the memories he carries engraved within him. 

His hips are slotted desperately between yours; you didn’t realize how he was able to get into such a position so easily, his hand already venturing from your breasts to cup your face, hovering above you as he whispers to you, his voice breathy and sultry that it takes effort to listen to what he says. 

“I’ve wanted to have you like this longer than I can remember,” he says, his eyes meeting yours and conveying words his mouth refuses to speak. Close. Needy. Vulnerable. “It hurts to think that I’ll be losing you again after this.” 

If you had any fight with his words, it died the moment his hips rolled firmly into yours. The breath that escapes him is shaky and labored, and he’s unable to control himself as he finds his mind loosening, words spilling beyond his comprehension as the pressure of his body against yours makes you rock back into him. 

“I’ll be damned if I ever let Yeonjun have you like this,” he says, fingers digging into your hips as his thrusts become harsh, uncalculated, and desperate, “I would’ve killed him.”

A small groan leaves your mouth at that— his eyes that once sparkled under the light, pleading for forgiveness, hardened into something foreign, wild and needy as he took what he could from you, the feeling of him hard and pulsing against you making your head fog with need.

Adjusting his position, he stands— you feel your body moving along with him, hips dangling dangerously over the bed as he holds you there, hands already working to get your pants undone.

“What makes you think he would’ve done any of that?” You ask, breathless as his sharp eyes meet yours, filled with an emotion you hesitate to pinpoint. 

“That man would fuck anything that moves,” Soobin growls, your body bare before him as he begins to kneel, your legs thrown over his shoulders carelessly as you gulp at the action, “I can’t imagine what he’d do to a pretty thing like you.”

He’s good at rendering you speechless— that is, if his mouth sucking firmly on your clit had anything to do with it. He’s desperate, eager to have you fall apart on his tongue as he feels your body jolt at the stimulation, a hand grabbing at his hair to bring him closer still. 

His fingers that slip through your entrance has your mouth falling open and your eyes fluttering shut, a small whimper slipping out of you as he groans, his mind reeling at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, pulling him in and asking for more. 

Soobin can’t help but wonder how you would feel wrapped around his cock, your arousal like an aphrodisiac to him as he finds himself growing needier, tongue messily laving at your clit as his fingers speed up the process, thick and long as a third soon finds its way inside. 

Your body is tensing quickly; the pleasure is overwhelming, the sight of having Soobin kneeling before you, desperate and lost in your pleasure as his eyes flutter open, meeting yours boldly has your thighs squeezing around his head uncontrollably. Your hips are left in his control as his hands grip onto them tightly, forcing you into him even more as his warm lips wrap around your clit once more, sucking and tongue flicking at the bud in hopes of feeling you fall apart in his hold. 

Unexpectedly, his name leaves your lips; it’s a sweet mewl that has him painfully aware of how hard he’s become, the bulge constricting against the fabric of his pants as he can only listen to the sweet sounds you make—and hope that he’ll have you coming apart on his cock soon as well. 

Your hips buck against his face mindlessly— it’s too much, yet not enough, his fingers thrusting roughly and curling to hit that spot that makes you see stars. The pleasure is hot and blinding as you feel it beginning to build up, your mouth agape as moans and cries to keep going cascade through you like a waterfall. 

His name becomes a prayer on your lips. Soobin. Soobin, please, you whimper, your good hand reaching down to tangle itself into his hair once more. His touch is addictive, and before you can realize what’s happening, you’re coming undone, his pace never faltering as he allows you to ride it out, your hips rolling carelessly on his face. 

You’re left a panting and weak mess in Soobin’s hold, your head sinking back into the mattress as you feel his fingers slowly slip out of you— a weak whine escapes you as his tongue cleans you up, running along your slit and teasing your entrance before he’s parting from you. Your head tilts as your eyes meet his, his eyes blown out and filled with lust as his tongue and lips slowly wrap around his fingers— cleaning your essence off it slowly, your mind swirling at the sight as you quickly find your pussy clenching desperately against nothing. 

 “My pretty girl,” he sighs out, his fingers making quick work of undoing his jeans, “you have no idea how badly I wanted to take you with me all this time. Years ago, throughout all this time, even today.”

He’s painfully hard as his cock finally springs into view— his hand is quick to wrap around it, his tip leaking and flushed as a thumb runs over it; his body jolts at the feeling, slowly fucking into his fist as his eyes don’t leave yours for a second. 

“Why didn’t you?” You breathe out, legs locking around his waist and pulling him eagerly. Your thighs are so warm and soft around him, his tip teasing your entrance as he fucks himself against your pussy, never pushing through enough to enter you. He can feel your wetness coating him, fogging his mind as his own arousal mixes with yours, the sight so dirty and desperate that he feels his hips buck in need. 

“I don’t know. I should’ve begged you for forgiveness the moment I first saw you,” his words, you realize, are genuine— your lidded eyes clear for a moment, and the conflicting emotions from before attempt to rear their head once more. You gulp, words dying on your tongue as his tip begins to prod at your entrance. 

“Beg for it now. Apologize,” you breathe out, a hand placing itself over his as his head snaps up to meet your gaze. Your nails dig into his forearm as your thighs lock around him, your gaze angry and demanding as you roll your hips into him in frustration, “since you seem so desperate for me.” 

His gaze softens— hesitantly, his lips part, tongue running over them as his tip finally breaches inside you. The stretch is unexpected, your walls immediately closing around him and attempting to pull him in as he subtly leans towards you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Your arm slides from his forearm to his bicep— you’re pulling him in, his other arm coming down to support his weight as he leans over you. This is only the beginning, your eyes say, sharp and narrowed as you prompt him to continue. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, slowly pushing inside you as he stops to allow you to feel every vein, every detail, rubbing along your warm walls and curving as his hips buck unintentionally. 

“I was a fool to leave you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since,” it’s sincere, you can see it in the way his expression furrows as he continues talking, frustration laced in his voice as his hips finally meet yours, pressing firmly as he bottoms out. 

Your fingers dig into the skin of his bicep— roughly, you pull him down, his face hovering above yours, dangerously closer as you watch his adam’s apple bob nervously. You don’t have to say anything— the fire in your eyes is more than enough for him, the room silent save for the sounds of your breaths that intertwine as his hips slowly begin to move, barely pulling out as he relishes in the feeling of being inside you. 

“I’m terrified of losing you again,” he admits, his confession shifting into unknown territories as his mind fogs up once more, “I’m sorry I couldn’t face you sooner.”

You say nothing— all you can do is scan his expression, his eyes that are lidded and filled with so many dangerous emotions. In response, your fingers tangle themselves in his hair— bringing him down to you as your lips meet him in a hungry kiss. 

His hips don’t hesitate to pick up the pace; the feeling of you clenching around him is driving him mad, his cock managing to hit a spot that has your mouth falling open, lips left victim to Soobin’s teasing bites, the feeling of his teeth sinking into the bottom flesh making you whimper uselessly against him.

He may be the one that’s pounding into you restlessly, leaving your mind blank and his name on your tongue, but you’re the one that truly has him intoxicated. He wants to feel you, all of you, your chest that rubs against his driving him mad as he becomes hyper-aware of how much he can feel you against him. You’re practically sinking into the bed with the force he drives himself into you, skin slapping against skin and his pelvis smacking against yours as your arousal only increases with every action. 

He’s wrapped tightly around your finger, and the last thing he wants to do is let go. 

“___,” your name is like honey on his lips, the sound of it rolling off his tongue so effortlessly that he can’t help but find himself saying it again, and again, a mantra of his own as he feels the way you recklessly fuck back into him, nails digging into his shoulder before they’re scratching down his back— the stinging sensation that’s left behind only serves to spur him on, the thought of having your scars on his body for days to come driving him mad. 

“I don’t want you to think of anyone else,” he says, breathless against you as your arm throws itself over his shoulders, fingers tangling themselves in his hair as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. 

“Think of me every time you look at yourself in the mirror, when you see the places I touched,” his hand trails down to your hip, fingers squeezing the supple flesh before it moves to circle your clit, your legs tightening against him before you're bucking your hips wildly, “when you touch yourself, wish it were me that was there for you.“

“No one will ever be able to care for you like I do.”

His cock is abusive against the spot that drives you wild. It reaches it with ease, hitting it thrust after thrust. One, twice, three times. Then you’re coming undone, a weak whimper all you can manage as you wrap around him like a vice. It’s enough to set him off as well, a soft groan escaping him as his hips struggle to keep a proper rhythm. Your bodies move together in harmony regardless, riding out each other’s highs as the warm feeling of his cum fills you, never-ending as it slowly begins to leak out before he’s fucking it back into you.

It’s silent, and neither of you can muster anything to say as you’re both catching your breath; Soobin’s face quickly buries itself into your neck, his lips ghosting along your skin as he speaks. 

“Stay,” he pleads, arms slowly circling your waist before you’re pulled into him, warm and secure in his hold. “Just for tonight. Stay a while longer.”

Softly, his head moves along your shoulder, his hair feather-like as it brushes against you. His lips graze a trail along, leaving a gentle kiss on the shoulder of your injured arm. 

“After tonight,” you breathe out, your hand traitorous as it caresses his scalp gently, the memories of your past and your moments together reviving a dangerous feeling, “I’ll forget everything about you— we’ll be nothing more than enemies.”

Softly, Soobin nods; his gaze never meets yours, the two of you adjusting in his bed as he allows you to rest on his chest. You’re a pile of tangled limbs, hearts beating in one as you wonder if you could’ve had this years ago, free of complicated emotions and regrets. 

“If I am to die by anyone’s hands, it will only be yours,” he says, hand encasing yours as he brings it to rest over his heart. “Promise me it will be so.” 

A game of death— you’ve always been incredible at your job, and there hasn’t been a single mission you haven’t completed. But, feeling him under your palm, warm and beating for you, you find the words stuck in your throat for a moment. 

“I promise.”

The cabin falls into complete silence as the feeling of you finally in his arms lulls Soobin into a deep sleep; he’ll think of this night for years to come, if he’s able to.

His words are nothing but a lie— he’ll never be able to forget you. 

And after tonight, neither will you. 

[alisonsfics]

risk it all for you

pairing: tyler owens x reader

summary: you and tyler have liked each other since high school. but you both may have waited too long to tell each other, which leads to a pretty nasty fight between the two of you. that’s when a storm comes.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: ended up being so much longer than i thought it would, but had a blast writing for everyone’s favorite tornado cowboy

The comforting scent of burning wood filled your lungs as you sat by the campfire. You didn’t even notice the smile that was glued to your face as you looked around.

The recent storms had brought in all kinds of visitors, hoping to witness a tornado up close and personal. It was the end of a busy day, and all the chasers were camping out in the parking lot of the motel they were staying at.

Tyler, your best friend since high school, had invited you to the bonfire. Tyler had always been the adrenaline junkie, not you. Chasing tornadoes was his thing, and you were glad to let him have it all to himself.

You were currently sitting in the back of Tyler’s truck waiting for him to bring you back a beer.

“So, you’re telling me you and Tyler have never gone for a ride?” One of Tyler’s friends continued to pester you. You quickly shook your head. You couldn’t bear the thought of risking your life like that. “Never, you all can keep your tornadoes. I am happy staying at home and hearing the stories.” You replied.

“Nobody said I was talking about tornadoes.” He retorted. The whole group erupted into laughter. Your cheeks heated up at the implication. It wasn’t like you’d never thought about it. You definitely had.

You heard a few rogue whistles. “Alright, that’s enough.” You heard a low voice say beside you. You turned to look over your shoulder and saw Tyler with two beers in hand.

“Here you go, sweetheart. Don’t let ‘em bother you too much.” He said, handing the bottle over to you. He jumped up to sit next to you on the tailgate. Even after being friends for years, you still sometimes got butterflies when you hung out with him.

“I mean, you can’t blame them. It’s a complete mystery how we’ve managed to stay just friends. I mean, you are just so hot and irresistible. I don’t know how any girl could stay friends with the infamous Tyler Owens.” You sarcastically teased him.

He nearly spit out his beer as he laughed at your joke. Whenever Tyler laughed at your jokes, it was like a little ego boost.

Many people had prodded over the years and asked you and Tyler why you never dated. Every time you gave a sarcastic response to the questions, Tyler fell a little harder for you.

Tyler leaned against you, clinking his bottle against yours. His arm pressed up against yours. Heat radiated off his skin. You hadn’t realized how cold you were. Tyler noticed too.

“Oh hang on, here take this,” he said, grabbing a blanket from behind him. He carefully wrapped it around your shoulders, so it would keep you warm.

You could smell his cologne on the blanket. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend you were wrapped up in his arms.

“So, Tyler, if you two aren’t together, are you seeing anybody else?” One of the girls sat around the fire asked Tyler. You instantly felt your stomach drop. You’d watched girls flirt with Tyler for years, but it never got easier. You faked a smile, but inside, you had a pit in your stomach.

“Why you wanna know? You want me all to yourself?” Tyler jokingly flirted back.

It was no secret that Tyler was a flirt. It never meant anything more to him. It was always just a flirty comment. But you still got jealous. You knew you and Tyler couldn’t have any kind of flirtatious relationship.

The girl pretended to fan herself and blew a kiss towards Tyler. Everyone was laughing at the silly exchange. You just couldn’t do it.

You set down the blanket and hopped down off the tailgate. “I gotta get something out of my car.” You lied, since everyone’s eyes were glued on you. Jealousy was written all over your face. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

They all went back to their conversations as you walked away. You wiped away the tear that was rolling down your cheek.

You heard a heavy pair of footsteps behind you. “Wait up. Where ya goin’?” He asked. You both knew you weren’t just “getting something out of your car.”

“Anywhere but here, Tyler,” you said. You continued walking and refused to look back at Tyler. You knew if you looked at him, you’d melt and lose the courage to leave. Tyler could convince you to do anything, and all it took was the twinkle in his eye.

You reached out to open your car door. Tyler smacked his hand against the door, pushing it closed. The loud slam caused you both to jump. It hadn’t been so aggressive in his head.

He mumbled a quick “sorry” and then squeezed himself between you and the car, his back pressed up against the car door.

You focused your eyes on the ground. You refused to look him in the eye.

“What’s goin’ on? Are you mad at me?” He asked you. You rolled your eyes and huffed. He waited for you to answer as you stubbornly crossed your arms. “I’m not mad at you, Ty. I just want to leave.” You said, with your eyes still glued to the ground.

He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. You bit your tongue, trying to remain assured. Tyler had to resist the urge to laugh at how much effort it was taking you to keep a serious face.

“Really? Cause it looks like you’re mad at me. In fact, it looks like you’re a little jealous.” He said, smirking down at you. He moved his hand from your chin to brush a piece of hair behind your ear.

You pushed him off of you and took a step back. “Oh, really? Is it that obvious?” You said, hitting his arm. He cocked his head to the side. He was expecting you to deny it, and he was a little shocked when you didn’t.

“So, you are feelin’ a little jealous? Why didn’t you just tell me?” He said, taking a small step towards you. He was wearing the same cocky smile that he always had plastered on his face.

“Do you know how hard it is to see you flirt with every girl you meet?” You asked. He furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out why you were so frustrated. To him, it seemed like there was a very simple solution.

He let his hand rest on your waist, softly toying with the fabric of your shirt. “Well, sweetheart, if you wanted me, you could have just told me. I’m right here for you to take.” He told you, genuinely. Hearing those words come out of his mouth made your stomach do flips.

“It’s different with me and you. We can’t flirt the way you do with those girls.” You told him. You could feel yourself starting to give into his touch, as you leaned in closer to him. “I see no reason why we can’t, sweetheart.” He said, looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

You could feel your heart pounding. You had to remind yourself to breathe. His cologne was enveloping all your senses. Your eyes were stuck on his.

“Cause with them, it’s casual. But we’ve been friends for years, so it could never be casual. It would have to be all or nothing. It would have to be this serious thing, or we’d risk our entire friendship.” You told him, your voice coming out as a whisper. He ran his fingers through your hair. He couldn’t help but admire you under the moonlight.

“I never claimed to want something casual with you, sweetheart.” He told you. You could feel goosebumps spread down your arms as he looked at you like you were his everything.

You had to pull yourself out of it. You were getting dragged in. “We can’t be together, Tyler.” You said, pulling yourself out of his grasp. You noticed his slight frown as you slipped out of his arms.

“Why not? I think we both know we’d be great together.” He tried to convince you. He didn’t know why you seemed so hesitant when you both knew the feelings were mutual.

He could see the sadness on your face. You wanted to be with Tyler, but you knew it wouldn’t work. “I would always end up as your second priority. It would ruin us, and we’d never be able to be friends again.” You told him. Your emotion was clear in your voice.

He cocked his head to the side in confusion. That was the last thing he expected you to say. He never thought he struggled at showing you how important you were to him.

“What do you mean? Nobody comes before you. Nobody ever has. I’ve always put you first.” He told you. He was practically begging you for answers. He wanted to know how to assure you.

“Owens, I’m not talking about a person. I’m talking about all of this.” You said, looking around you both. There were storm chasers camping out for as far as you both could see. “What are you saying? That we can’t be together because I chase tornadoes?” He asked, starting to raise his voice.

You both were very stubborn people, so it was gradually turning into more of an argument.

“I’m saying you’d always have one foot out the door. And at the drop of a hat, you’d be racing out to risk your life. I can’t be wondering if you’re gonna come home. But, I know how much you love what you do.” You told him. Your voice cracked, and Tyler stepped forward to try to comfort you.

You put your hands up to stop him. He swore under his breath. He was seeing how determined you really were. He was becoming less confident that you could convince you otherwise.

“Well maybe I love you more.” He said.

The thought of losing you was enough to finally push him to confess how he really felt about you. He saw your eyes soften. Those were the words you’d always dreamed of hearing Tyler say.

You felt your heart break when you realized they didn’t change anything. “Oh, come on, Tyler. It’s not fair to throw out words that you can’t back up with any commitments.” You said.

Tyler was becoming more frustrated as he felt you drifting further and further away. “Don’t push me away. You’ve known me for years. You know me better than anyone. You know I’m not reckless. A risk taker? Yes, but I’m careful enough to stay safe. Because I’ve got someone to come home to.” He told you.

You tried to take a deep breath, but all you could focus on was the broken expression on Tyler’s face. “Tyler, I’ve seen you chase tornadoes for years. I’ve seen how much you light up when you talk about it. I know how much you love it. It’s inspiring, it really is, but it’s also the reason you can’t make a long-term commitment to anything or anyone else.” You told him, honestly.

Tyler shook his head, looking down at the ground. You were technically right. He had trouble making commitments. But it wasn’t because of how much he loved storm chasing.

It was because of how much he loved you.

“What about us, huh? We’ve been friends for years. I’ve never missed a birthday or a phone call or a breakup. So, don’t tell me I can’t make a commitment. I have never failed to be there for you. Why would I stop if we started dating?” He snapped at you.

You flinched at how loudly he was talking. He’d never yelled at you before. He noticed how your expression changed. You stepped backwards, putting some physical and emotional space between the two of you.

You pushed past him to open your car door. “Wait, c’mon, don’t leave,” he begged you. He knew he’d crossed a line, and he was trying to remedy it.

“I’m not gonna stay here when you’re yelling at me like that.” You told him. He grabbed your hand and spun you around to face him. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to. I was trying to tell you that I’d always put you first.” He apologized, squeezing your hand. You wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms. But you couldn’t.

“I can’t do this right now, Tyler.” You said, pulling your hand back and getting in your car. Tyler felt a pit in his stomach as you drove off. He couldn’t help but worry that he’d lost you for good.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he wondered what to do. His eyes landed on the bar across the street from the motel. He started walking in that direction. He felt stupid for being optimistic that you’d reciprocate his feelings.

His friends all called after him, having seen the whole fight go down. They all asked him where he was going, but he ignored them all. He wasn’t quite ready to talk about you and have his friends tell him he’d screwed up. Because he knew that already.

So, while you drove home and started crying on your couch, Tyler went to the bar. He wasn’t even really drinking that much. It was mostly just sulking.

He’d drowned out everyone else at the bar who was partying. He was sitting at the end of the bar staring into his glass. All he could think about was how hurt you looked when he yelled at you.

He wanted to pull you into his arms and apologize over and over until you forgave him.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a news alert playing on the television above the bar. His eyes darted up to the screen and saw “Multiple Tornado Spottings”. He realized your house was right in the middle of the storms.

He swore under his breath and raced towards his truck. Fueled by adrenaline, he sped towards your house. He had the pedal pushed down as far as it would go.

Nothing motivated Tyler more than the thought of you being in harm’s way. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and clicked on your contact.

He anxiously tapped on the steering wheel as his phone rang. It only rang once before he got sent to voicemail. He tried to call you again, and you declined the call again.

You were oblivious to the incoming storm, and you were in no mood to talk to Tyler.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart. Turn on the news, please.” He muttered to himself, praying that he could will it into existence.

Once he got to your house, he barely turned his truck off before jumping out and sprinting towards the front door.

He banged on the door with his fist. The winds were picking up around him. His adrenaline was still running high.

“Go away, Tyler.” He heard you yell from inside. He pounded on the door again. “There’s a storm, sweetheart. We gotta get to the cellar. It’s not safe.” He yelled through the door. He could barely hear himself over the howling wind. He quickly tapped his fingers on his leg, fidgeting as he waited for you to appear.

The door swung open. Your fear was written all over your face. Tyler grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a tornado forming in the distance.

The wind was blowing you both around as you raced towards the cellar. Tyler kept a tight grip on your hand. He wasn’t going to let you out of his sight.

“Lookout,” Tyler yelled, shielding your body with his as a dumpster went flying by you both. After it missed you both, he tugged you towards the cellar.

The cellar doors had already flung open from the wind. He grabbed your waist, pushing you inside before him. You quickly ran down to the bottom of the stairs.

“Sweetheart, get me a stick or something down there or these doors won’t stay closed.” Tyler told you. He was wincing as he struggled to hold the doors closed.

You grabbed an old broomstick and handed it to him quickly. He shoved it through the handles and prayed it would hold.

“Alright, c’mon, we gotta get to the back.” He said, nudging you.

“Over here,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the closet in the back of the cellar.

Tyler closed the closet door behind you both. It was a small closet. You were facing the back wall. He was covering your whole body with his. He had his hand protectively cupping the back of your head.

“Keep your eyes closed and hold on to those pipes, sweetheart.” He instructed you. You quickly nodded your head and did what he told you to do. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your head, to try to comfort you.

You both had always had a nonverbal way of communicating. He obviously knew you were scared because who wouldn’t be? But he also knew that one of your biggest fears was something happening to him while chasing a storm. And now you were wrapped up in that.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He assured you, holding onto you tightly.

A high pitched whistle filled the room as the wind started to pick up. You could feel the pressure envelop your whole body. Everything around you was rattling.

Up above you, you could hear thuds as the tornado flung around cars and anything else in its path. It wasn’t long until you both heard the cellar doors rip open.

The howling wind got louder. It made your ears ring. Tyler tightened his grip on you as the closet doors started to shake. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped onto the pipes.

“You promise me you won’t play hero.” Tyler yelled at you. He didn’t want you to get hurt trying to save him. You furiously shook your head. “I’m not letting anything happen to you.” You yelled back.

The closet doors started shaking even more. The hinges were loudly squeaking. You just knew that the tornado was right above you.

A piece of the door ripped off and flew through the air. The air swirled around the tiny closet, making it harder to hold on.

Pieces of the door kept splintering off. One of them sliced against Tyler’s bicep, causing him to wince and bite down on his lip.

The closet doors finally swung open. With the large cut on Tyler’s arm, his grip accidentally loosened. He started getting pulled backwards. He only had one hand on the pipes. He was gripping it with all the strength he had.

You wrapped one of your arms around the pipes and the other around his waist, pulling him back into you. You buried your face into his chest.

Then, the wind almost instantly disappeared.

You both continued to hold onto each other as your adrenaline still ran high. Tyler kissed the top of your head. “It’s over, sweetheart. We’re safe.” He whispered, still trying to catch his breath.

You both slowly pulled away from each other and leaned against opposite walls. Neither of you said a word as you tried to process what had just happened.

“You saved my life, sweetheart.” He said, looking at you with love in his eyes. You could feel the tears start to bubble up. You were finally letting yourself acknowledge how scared you’d been, now that you weren’t in danger anymore.

“I was so scared to lose you.” You whispered, your voice cracking. He pulled you into his arms, nestling his face into the crook of your neck. He softly rubbed your back. “You did everything right, sweetheart.” He assured you.

He continued to hug you until you stopped crying. When you both pulled apart, you could see the guilt in his eyes.

“This was all my fault.” He mumbled under his breath. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. You stubbornly shook your head. “None of this was your fault. It was a tornado. You might be the tornado wrangler, but you can’t control them.” You said, trying to cheer him up and lighten the mood.

He grabbed your hands, interlacing his fingers with yours. Neither of you wanted to keep your hands off each other. You both were still worried if you took your eyes off the other that they’d disappear.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you back there. If I hadn’t, we’d both still be at the motel. You wouldn’t have been in harm’s way if it wasn’t for me.” He told you, apologetically. He was realizing that his actions had put you in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“I’m sorry that I yelled at all. I wasn’t mad at you. I really wasn’t. I was mad at myself. You should have no reason to doubt how important you are to me. If you do, I need to fix that.” He said, squeezing both your hands. You noticed a smile start to grow on his face when you didn’t pull away.

“You never gave me a reason to doubt you. I was just scared. We’re not all as brave as the tornado wrangler.” You teased him. He let out a soft chuckle.

It was nice to have a peaceful moment, laughing together like you always did, after a life or death scenario.

“Does that mean?” Tyler started to ask you, a smirk beginning to grow. You just giggled and nodded your head. “Yes, it means you can kiss me, cowboy.” You said, cheesily smiling at him.

He didn’t waste any time grabbing your belt loops and pulling you closer to him. You cupped his face and leaned in to kiss you. You let yourself melt into the kiss. His soft lips fit perfectly against yours. Just like you’d always dreamed.

You could feel him smiling against your lips. You both pulled out of the kiss. Tyler looked at you with a look of awe. “I’ve spent years wishing I could do that.” He said, smiling down at you.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[bizarrebaby]

Halloween Costume Headcanons| Madman!Lalo & Princesa

Pairing: Lalo Salamanca/Princesa (the reader insert character of @richeeduvie 's Madman!Au) Notes: I am not the author of Madman! But I do think about it a lot. More than a healthy person, for sure. Anyways, these are just my thoughts on couples costumes for Lalo and Princesa!

Lalo is not big on hosting parties or even going to them, especially not now that he has Princesa. But he does love to show her off, and a little Halloween party at the hacienda once a year is a perfect way to do that.

Neither of them did much to celebrate Halloween as kids, but seeing it in so many movies, Princesa always dreamed about having a perfect costume, of dressing like her favorite characters from the silver screen.

Obviously her relationship with her dad, and the way that he was, wasn’t one in which he would ever be buying her a costume or taking her out to trick-or-treat. Not to mention, they didn’t exactly live in a great neighborhood for it.

So dressing Princesa up for halloween and having a party– it’s another way that Lalo’s being a good papi for her. The man is a little obsessed with healing her inner child. In a way, he wants to overwrite all of that suffering from before she knew him– making her life with him perfect in a way it never could’ve been without him.

And of course, he’s never going to say no to an opportunity to buy her more clothes and jewelry.

When she brings up the idea of couple’s costumes, it’s something he hadn’t really thought much about. Dressing up is a little silly for him, no? Perfect for her, she’s just a sweet little thing who can look cute in anything. But him? 

He hadn’t intended to do any real dressing up at first, but of course he loves the idea of him and Princesa living basically within the context of each other. Makes him a little crazy– the thought that even when she’s playing a part, wearing a costume, that she needs him to be next to her– a part of the story. So it’s gonna be only couples costumes from here on out lol

And he still doesn’t want to look silly, so he’s not going to go too crazy with outfits and he’s not gonna wear no fuckin’ face paint or wigs. Besides, she thinks he’s perfectly handsome the way he is, no? Not gonna scare his girl by looking like a completely different guy.

Cowboy and Cow (Lalo)

This one is Lalo’s idea, through and through. His Princesa is just a sweet, cute, helpless little thing that needs to be herded around and kept safe, you know? Not to mention when her tears cling to her lashes when she cries, and her nose gets a little wet– just like a scared little vaca, no? 

His Princesa wears little cow ears, a cow print dress with a fluffy skirt and an apron, a little tail on the back. Most importantly: she’s got a collar with a little bell on it that he just can’t stop playing with. And he’s got a lasso around her waist that he holds onto all night long– like a freak. He likes to see her nearly stumble when he tugs on it. He did it because she was wandering too far.

The costume for Lalo is minimal. We all know he owns cowboy boots, he’s probably got a hat and a vest he can dig up, and plenty of jeans.

This costume is definitely making a comeback when his girl gets pregnant and she’s actually milkable.

Dracula and Mina (Princesa)

Princesa’s idea– very classic, and very classy. Lalo very graciously lets her color in just a smidge of widow’s peak for him and puts in some fangs. He’ll probably take them out almost instantly as soon as he feels them getting in the way of him talking.

You don’t want to know what the vintage nightgown cost. It’s authentic– off white with age, floor length, detailed with lace and ruffles. Lalo’s gonna tell everyone exactly how much it cost, with some teasing about how his Princesa has such exquisite taste.

“She’s got such a way of– of restoring them to their original beauty, no? Unbelievable,” he says with adoration and a kiss to the crown of her  head.

She and Lalo are the only ones who know that the bite mark is real.

And yeah, it’s Princesa’s idea. But let’s not pretend that Lalo has never thought about coming quietly into their room while she’s sleeping in a pretty nightgown and drinking her blood. In fact, he’s probably already done it– just not from her neck.

Morticia and Gomez (Princesa)

Principally Princesa’s idea, but Lalo likes it when she suggests it. He tries to hide it, but he likes enjoying her little romance movies with her. And he’ll admit to the similarities– Morticia and Gomez so in love that they’re seemingly on an endless honeymoon.

He will, however, insist on amending your dress to be less clinging. Something more shapeless, demure, cute. Not that he doesn’t want to see a dress like that on her, but assuming they’ll be at a party, he doesn’t want people seeing his girl like that.

Once again, a very minimal costume for Lalo. Just a pinstripe suit– he can tolerate that to see his Princesa so happy.

Hello Kitty and Dear Daniel (Princesa)

This is an “I’m sorry” type of costume. Like Lalo probably hugely jumped to some sort of conclusion (which is crazy because he’d never do that right lol) that wasn’t true, and his innocent gatita cried for it. So he’s giving her some more leeway with the halloween costume selection this year. 

Let’s be real, though. While he may not be thrilled about wearing the kitty ears and the tail and having a couple of whiskers drawn on, his Princesa is also wearing all of those things, which is something he didn’t know he needed. Those costume pieces are ending up in a drawer in the bedroom.

Cop and Robber (Lalo)

Lalo’s not ashamed to admit that he’s always thought he’d be hot in uniform. And he’s completely correct. And he knows his girl agrees.

This is also a great excuse to keep her handcuffed to him, which is something he probably thinks about doing every time she leaves the compound with him.

For all of the party guests, this is Lalo’s most insufferable costume. He’s constantly fake arresting people for literally any reason. And honestly– despite not being much of a costume guy, I can see him getting really into it in a very annoying way. Like he has a flashlight he’s shining directly into people’s eyes, and he’s sticking post-it note tickets onto people’s backs all night

Holly Golightly and Paul (Princesa) [Breakfast at Tiffany's]

This is the perfect costume for them. Because Lalo basically just has to wear regular clothes, while completely spoiling Princesa rotten with a beautiful vintage dress, gloves, shoes, and real vintage Tiffany jewelry pieces. And it’s just like at Eladio’s party when he took her– he brings her around to everyone so he can show her off, telling everyone to look at how completely radiant she is.

This is definitely one of those moments where Lalo is the most smug in his ability to provide for her, how well he knows her, and how perfectly suited for her he is. His cute little caterpillar, and with him he fed her, rested her, pleased her, and kept her safe so she could metamorphose into this beautiful angelic butterfly. Tonight, all eyes are on her for a moment, but he’s the only man in the world who’s seen deep inside her, felt the tender and fluttering pulse of her heart.

Nick and Nora Charles (Princesa) [The Thin Man]

We can’t have a Madman!Halloween without at least one couples costume featuring a cock with a mustache.

Once again, Lalo in a suit, and Princesa decked out in expensive vintage with her hair immaculately styled.

Lili and Paul (Princesa) [Lili]

Lili (1953) is one of those movies that I think gets to Lalo. He sees a lot of Princesa in Lili. A frightened, helpless girl left alone in the world by a dead father. She makes mistakes, doesn’t know what’s good for her. An adult but still very much naive, not able to see the meal the world wishes to make of her. And despite all of her misfortune, she has an endless font of sincerity that endears her to just about everyone.

And yet again, she’s in a lovely little vintage costume– a very modest and plain dress with a lacy collar and cuffs and a cute hat, while he just needs a button down shirt and some slacks.

And you know what? Lalo can keep a puppet on his hand for this. That's minimal enough.

Bonus!

These are my insanely unrealistic ideas that i cant let go of lol

Patrick Bateman and Jeanine (???) [American Psycho]

Not going to pretend this one is a realistic idea. Don’t think Lalo likes the idea of his girl watching that kind of thing. But you’ve gotta admit that Lalo would slay in a suit and a clear raincoat, face splattered with prop blood. All while he’s got his Princesa next to him in a pale pink sweater and pencil skirt.

And once again, the relationship parallels. A sociopathic murderer and the innocent girl who cares too much about him. The big difference is that Jean’s genuine nature saves her from Patrick, but Princesa’s made it so she’d never be safe from Lalo.

Quentin and Leaven (???) [Cube]

Just want you to think about Lalo as Quentin, Princesa as Leaven, and Nacho as Worth. That’s all.

King Arthur and Guinevere (Princesa)

Just want you to think about Lalo as Arthur, Princesa and Guinevere, and Nacho as Lancelot. That’s all.

[eternal-echoes]

There are definitely anime that are as sexual as American live-action TV, and there are American cartoons that are as wholesome as some anime. To compare anime to American live-action TV isn't necessarily fair, nor is it fair to ignore some of the anime that exist out there that is entirely sexual fanfare.

True. I was just saying my experience about watching This is Us because that’s around the time when I relapsed to watching anime again. Tho it was mostly due to because I got into a conversation with a co-worker about anime. It was lent and I was re-watching Cowboy Bebop so I mentioned I was watching that and he commented that I like “old-school anime.” I wasn’t really it just that Cowboy Bebop has existential themes so I was re-watching it for that during lent. But that conversation made me wanna explore the animes from the ‘90’s and see what made them classic and so I started watching Trigun, then discovered Rurouni Kenshin and that led to tuning in to more new animes currently trending right now so now I’ve decided to post my analysis of them on here to draw anime fans into my Catholic blog and hopefully lead them to convert to Catholicism someday.

Anyways, I guess if we wanna seriously compare American cartoons to Japanese anime, I would say American cartoons are more about being silly for younger kids and sarcastic for older people, whereas Japanese anime do seriously explore human life experiences through otherworldly storytelling. Like Spongebob is silly and Rick and Morty is sarcastic (I don’t really watch it but I’m sorta basing this base one scene I saw) while anime that I’m currently into right now My Happy Marriage is about having lived through abusive childhood and finding love after (literally a re-telling of Cinderella). Japanese anime in my opinion is not afraid to explore authentic human experiences and serious mature subjects (by mature I don’t mean rated-r for sex and violence but just concepts that’s hard for kids to understand) and adding a little bit of mystical imagination to it. Like Naruto is about friendship and perseverance with some action scenes and magic added into it. I don’t really watch sexual animes though. I did watch one that had nudity and violence (but no sex) that my cousin mentioned which got me curious and the story was just a pretty mediocre thriller and it just honestly catered to male audience. Nana had some nudity but sex is usually like PG-13 level of implication. I feel like it was more about Nana Osaki’s career and the emotional aspects being in a relationship.

I tend to get turn off by stories (either animes or live-action) when there’s a lot of fan service even though it’s not explicit because it just feels like the writers rely on those to try to draw people in but there isn’t much in the story.

If we’re talking about animation movies, someone else mentioned that Disney movies touches the heart while Studio Ghibli touches the soul. I’m not sure if that’s an accurate description but if you compare Up to Spirited Away I think we can both agree that they do speak a different language, and I don’t just mean that literally but that they do explore different themes of life. Like Up is more about the meaning of love and relationship while Spirited Away is about experiencing authentic loving friendship (on a platonic kids level).

[queenxxxsupreme]

Baby Steps (dad!Arthur Morgan)

A/N: I know the techniques used in this story are wrong and should not be used I.E. using a male companion goat for a foal as they can be aggressive towards the foal, but this is purely fictional so just ignore it! Max is a part of the family and he is there for comedic relief! This is not for informational use! This is entertainment only! 

Warnings: None! just fluffy! 

This is a part 2 to Unlikely Choice which is here! But it’s also sort of a part of the dad!Arthur series I’ve unintentionally started....

***

The feeling of someone brushing their fingers over your hair woke you up. 

“Mornin’, pumpkin.” Arthur’s voice came from your left. He was laying on his side facing you, keeping himself occupied while you slept. 

He had been up for a while now. His struggles of sleeping had followed him from his life as an outlaw. He was lucky to get four hours some nights. 

“Mhmm.” You turned over to face him, keeping your eyes shut. You were still half asleep and you didn’t mind staying that way. 

“You goin’ back to sleep on me?” He chuckled softly, propping himself up on one elbow. 

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Morgan.”

“Well I do mind, Mrs. Morgan.” Arthur dipped his head down to kiss your forehead. “I’ve been up for a while now. Been thinkin’ about a lot. I don’t wanna think anymore. I need you to distract me.”

You sighed, opening your eyes to see him looking down at you. 

“A distraction, huh?”

“That would be appreciated.” There was a teasing glint in his blue eyes. 

“I’m sure it would.” You giggled. “What’s been goin’ through that head of yours?”

You reached up to brush his hair back. The blonde strands were getting a bit long and fell across his forehead. He’d need a haircut soon. 

“Little of this…. A lotta that.” He laid back on the bed, eyes finding the ceiling. 

You scooted as close to him as you could get and put your head on his shoulder. 

“Thinkin’ about how I’ve gotta fix the floorboards to the hayloft. They ain’t safe and I don’t want Daisy gettin’ hurt.”

“You can’t do that by yourself, can you?”

“Nah. I’ll need a couple extra hands.”

“I can help. Whatever I can’t help with, I’m sure Charles would be more than willing to come over and lend a hand.”

“Of course.” Arthur’s hand found the small of your back. “Also been thinkin’ bout a couple other odds and ends around here I gotta fix up.”

You looked up at him, sensing that there was something else, something he wasn’t saying. 

“Anything botherin’ you?” 

“Nothin’ you gotta worry about, pumpkin.” Arthur shook his head. 

“Well I’ll worry more if you don’t tell me.” 

Arthur was quiet for a few moments, lips pressed together in a firm line. 

You sat up and leaned back on one hand. You placed your hand over his heart, brows drawing together. He put his hand on yours, giving you a little squeeze. 

“I don’t want to have to worry so much about you both.” His voice was quiet. “This is our home. Don’t like feeling like we aren’t safe.”

“You’re still thinking about Micah, aren’t you?”

He sat up against the headboard. 

“Arthur, last we heard he was in Reno. We don’t gotta worry about him until we hear he’s closer.”

“I don’t want him any closer than Reno. Last we heard that was a few months ago.”

You looked down at the blanket that covered your legs. You smoothed out the material.

“Just…. Just want to be able to raise Daisy and any others we might have without him loomin’ over my head.” Arthur ran his hand over his face. 

“You want more?” You asked, your voice quiet as your eyes flickered up to meet his.

“Well…. I think it would be nice to try for one more, if you want. Only if you want.”

You moved around to straddle his thighs. 

“Daisy’s just…. She’s a dream, pumpkin.” Arthur placed his hands on your hips. “Still is. Sweet girl.”

“She’s definitely daddy’s girl.”

He smiled proudly. 

“Hey, maybe we could have a boy?” He suggested, blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “Even it out a little. One for you, one for me. I think it’d be nice.”

“Sure would be nice, but we don’t get to pick.”

“I know.” He nodded. His thumb on your hip began to trace circles in the material of your chemise. “Whatever we’d have, I’d love ‘em the same. Another girl would be cute too.”

“You’re adorable.” You leaned in to kiss his lips but just before you could kiss him, there was a knock on the door. 

“Mommy? Daddy?”

Arthur let out a soft sigh, moving his hands from your hips so that you could remove yourself from his lap. You settled on the bed next to him, leaning against his shoulder.

“Come on in, sweetpea.” 

The door opened and Daisy walked in. Carson slipped past her, jumping up onto the bed. Arthur gave him a pat on the shoulder. 

“Good boy, Carson.”

“Good morning, sleepy head.” You greeted Daisy with a smile. “It’s a little early for you to be up, hon.”

“I want to go out to the barn.” She climbed up onto the bed and clambered across your legs. 

“Oh, I reckon it’s far too early to go to the barn.” Arthur teased her. 

“Nuh-uh! You and Papa Hosea are always up early and outside in the barn!”

“What are you so eager to go out to the barn for anyways?” He brushed a few pieces of her hair back behind her ear.

“I wanna see my horse.” She admitted bashfully. 

Ohhh. I see.” Arthur nodded. “Well, why don’t you give me and momma here a few minutes to get out of bed and get dressed. Is Papa Hosea up?”

“Yeah he is. He’s out on the porch.”

“Go on out there with him. Have him take you to the barn while I get up.”

“Okay, daddy!”

Daisy was off of the bed and dashing out of the door in the blink of an eye. Carson was right behind her, eager to start the day. 

“Today is a busy day, Arthur Morgan.” You patted his thigh before getting out of bed. “John and Abigail should be here with the kids before noon. I was thinkin’ of invitin’ Charles and Lucy over too.”

“Of course.” Arthur nodded his head. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his face. “Hey, pumpkin?”

“Yes, my love?” You turned to look at him. 

“You know I love you, don’t ya?”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. 

“I know. You gave me a baby girl and this beautiful house.” You moved around the bed to stand between his legs. “Love you too, you know.” Your arms slipped around his neck. His hands brushed along your thighs as he smiled up at you.

“Wouldn’t have her without you.” He leaned forward to kiss your stomach. 

“You’re feelin’ awfully sweet this morning.” You brushed your fingers through his hair. “Anything else on your mind, cowboy?”

“Just my girls.”

***

Arthur kept his hand on the small of your back as he walked you out to the barn. 

“Hey, you think we should get Hosea a mule when Silver Dollar finally croaks?” He teased as he pushed the barn door open with his shoulder. 

“Don’t you be talkin’ crass about my horse, Arthur Morgan.” Hosea spoke from where he sat in the barn. He was on a stool outside of the stall Daisy’s horse was in. Daisy was on her knees at the bottom of the stall reaching through the bottom of the fence so she could pet the foal. 

“I didn’t expect you to hear me, old man.” 

“Silver Dollar’s outlived a lotta things.” You looked over to Arthur, giving him a little smile. “Doubt he’s gonna go anytime soon.”

“When he does, I’m not gettin’ another horse.” Hosea shook his head. Almost as if happy about his owner’s statement, the Turkoman at the end stall whinnied and stuck his head over the stall door. 

“Then how the hell are you gonna get around?” Arthur moved to greet Silver Dollar. “Hey, boy.”

“I’ll figure it out when the time comes. But you know what I am gonna do? I’m gonna invest in sheep.”

“Sheep?” Arthur repeated. “Don’t we go enough of those?”

While they carried on their conversation, you moved towards Daisy. 

“Have you picked out a name yet, Daisy?”

“Haven’t thought of one.” She frowned, rubbing along the filly’s back. 

“Come on. Let’s go in and keep her company.” You opened up the stall and walked in. 

Daisy followed behind you, sitting down in the straw beside the filly. 

“Well, does she like anything? Any treats you give her?”

“She likes the carrot pieces we gave her last night.”

“Really liked them.” Arthur leaned over the stall, folding his arms along the top as he looked down at you both. “Carrot’s a cute name, ain’t it sweetpea?”

“It’s a silly name.”

“Yeah. But hey, it’d fit right in with what I call you and momma.” He chuckled. “Sweetpea, pumpkin, and Carrot.”

“You’re silly!”

“What names do you like, Daisy?” You asked her, reaching out to pull a piece of straw from her hair. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Well what name do you got in your head, silly?” Arthur reached down to ruffle her hair. 

Daisy giggled again, reaching up to grab his hand. 

“In that storybook momma read me the other night, there was a girl named Piper in it.” 

“Piper, huh? Piper is a neat name.” 

“I like that name.” You looked down at the filly and rubbed her nose. “I think she’s a pretty girl.” 

“You think she could be a Piper?” Daisy asked. 

“Oh, definitely. Don’t you think the same, daddy?” You looked up at Arthur. 

“Piper suits her well.” 

“Now only if we could get the damn thing to walk.” Hosea muttered from his seat. Arthur sent him a glare. 

“Why do you think she won’t walk, papa?” Daisy looked over to him, a frown etched on to her lips. 

You looked up at Arthur, who rubbed his eyes. 

“It’s hard to tell, honey.” Hosea rubbed his neck. “But she looks like a strong one. I’m sure she’ll be walking in no time.”

“Can we make her walk?” Daisy’s eyes found you. 

You opened your mouth to answer but found that you didn’t know the right thing to say. You looked up at Arthur. 

“Yeah, sweetpea. Let’s give it a try now. She ate well last night. Should have some energy in her.” Arthur pulled open the stall door. “You go stand out with papa, Daisy.” 

“Okay, daddy.” 

Daisy moved out of the stall and instead peered through the fencing. 

“You wanna give me a hand, pumpkin?” He held his hand out for you. 

“Of course. Just tell me what you need me to do.” 

Arthur pulled you to your feet and brushed off your skirt. 

“You know how we had that calf a few winters ago that wouldn’t listen to me but loved you? Try to encourage her to get up.”

“You think she’ll listen to me?”

“It’s worth a try.” 

“Has she stood up at all?” 

“No.”

“Thought you would’ve learned by now not to trust greasy conmen, Arthur.” 

“Shut up, Hosea.” Arthur muttered. 

You took a piece of apple from the bowl Arthur brought into the barn and knelt down in front of Piper. You put the apple piece in front of her nose, letting her get a little nibble of the treat before pulling it away. 

She tried to follow you by stretching her neck but that only got her so far. 

“Come on, girl.” Arthur encouraged, giving her flank a little pat. “Gotta get up.” 

She lifted herself up on to her front hooves as if she wanted to stand but that was where she stopped. 

“Good girl.” You rubbed her head and let her nibble on the apple a little more. “Sweet Piper. Just a little more, sweetie.” 

“Come on, Piper!” Daisy anxiously spoke from outside of the stall. 

Piper looked like she was ready to stand up, but at the last second she seemed to give up and her front legs buckled. She fell back to the ground, whinnying and flicking her ears. 

You stood up, putting your hands on your hips. Arthur watched you from where he was knelt down behind Piper. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout, pumpkin?”

“Max.” 

“Oh no.” Arthur stood up, shaking his head. “That goat is not teachin’ this horse any bad habits.”

“He won’t teach her nothin’ but maybe to walk.” 

***

Max was a Saanen goat that you kept on the farm with a handful of other goats. 

Max was a handful to deal with. He was mischievous and liked to stir up trouble wherever he could. His favorite activity to do was harass your husband. Max was sweet and nice to you and Daisy. He just didn’t like many people. 

Max followed you to the barn, bleating loudly for attention. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Arthur muttered, blue eyes carefully watching Max as he trotted through the barn. 

“Just trust me.” You put your hand on his arm as you opened the door to Piper’s stall. 

Curious, Max followed you into the stall. Once he saw Arthur was in there, he bleated and scratched his front hoof against the floor. 

But then Piper let out a high pitched whinny, catching Max’s attention. The goat’s ears perked up and he redirected himself towards the foal. He bleated, sniffing curiously at Piper’s leg, and then he bounced around and dug his head at her flank. 

“What’s he doing?” Daisy asked. 

“I think he’s trying to get her to play with him.” Hosea rubbed Daisy’s shoulder. 

Piper placed her front hooves on the ground and whinnied once more. Max bleated. 

With bated breath, you watched as Piper stood up on shaky long legs. Daisy almost clapped her hands but Hosea stopped her, not wanting to spook the animals. 

Max sniffed Piper and then took off out of the stall. 

Piper watched him leave, ears perked up as she listened. 

“Well. That could’ve gone worse.” Arthur said. 

“She’s standing up!” Daisy exclaimed. 

Piper moved around a little, her knees shaking as she explored her stall. 

“When can I start to work with her? Like you did with Poncho?” Daisy’s question was directed to Arthur. 

“Baby steps, sweetpea. We can’t work her too hard.”

But daddy-!”

“Daisy.” You cut her off, keeping your voice gentle. “Don’t raise your voice at him.”

She frowned, looking down at her hands. 

“Maybe in a week or two, sweetpea. Gotta make sure Piper’s good on her feet.” Arthur patted the foal’s flank. 

The filly whinnied, then dipped her nose into the bucket of water in the corner of her stall. 

“I’m gonna go start breakfast.”  You told Arthur. 

“I reckon I’ll go down and see if Charles is up. See if he ain’t too busy and wants to give me a hand with the hayloft.”

“Okay. Be safe.” You leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you gently and chastly, placing his hand on your side. 

“I’ll let you know before I leave.” 

You nodded and turned to exit the barn. 

Arthur watched you leave, then his eyes flickered down to Daisy. 

“Daddy? You think I can take her out to the pasture? Maybe she wants to get some sun.” 

“Yeah, sweetpea. You can go out there with her. S’long as you’re careful and don’t get behind her when she’s standin’.” 

“I’ll go out and watch her.” Hosea offered, moving away from the stall. “Let you get some work done. Make yourself useful.”

“So you get to sit on your ass while I do all the hard work?” 

“Precisely.” Hosea chucked. 

Arthur shook his head, a grin pulling at his lips.

Taglists:  @doggone-cowgirl @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @gabstaroc @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284 @kashasenpai @misskrql

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[halloweenhoneylover]

the window

summary: reader gives spencer a really cute holiday gift, and he really, really appreciates it (spencer reid x gn!reader)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: this was supposed to be a blurb lmao. also anon, u did not specify gender, so this is gender neutral!!! also, this is for the holiday season and isn’t specific to christmas (aside from mentions of secret santa gift exchange). also also, spencer knits canonically.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.

Rolling your eyes, you closed the seemingly menacing pop-up on your screen and continued to finish up your paperwork. A few seconds passed before a second pop-up appeared.

DO NOT CLOSE MY MESSAGES!!!

You heaved a sigh and stood, making your way to Garcia’s lair. Pushing the door open, you skipped a greeting entirely and chided, “Dude, you gotta stop sending scary pop-ups to my computer. People are gonna start thinking that unsubs are hacking the FBI and threatening agents.”

From beneath her horn-rimmed glasses, Penelope tutted and chewed the end of her pen. “You are no fun. Besides, you are forgetting my immensely cool and mysterious origin story. ‘The Black Queen’ was not one of the good guys!”

“That’s true,” you admitted, “but you’re one of us now, so that means no more suspicious messages unless you want to be fired.”

She gave you a contemptuous glare, “Not gonna happen. Also, I’m really shocked that you thought you could distract me from the matter at hand.”

Furrowing your brow, you replied, “I don’t even know what the matter at hand is.”

Garcia’s smirk curled devilishly. “You and Reid.”

Further confusion ensued. “And what about us?”

She groaned and threw her head back, “Oh my god, you really are dragging this out. I know that you did not get him for Secret Santa, but you still got him a present.” The quirking of her eyebrows was enough to indicate that she meant more than what she was saying, and you were hesitant to explore the implications.

“Okay, first of all, it is illegal to look at my credit card history, and secondly, he is my best friend, so yes, I got him a present. Is that a crime?”

“Certainly not...but this does solidify the fact that you’re in love with him.”

“Dear god, Garcia, I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The look she gave you was one of utter incredulity. Her disbelief was so strong in fact that she did not deign your statement worthy of verbal response. Instead, she sat there. Staring. And under her rather unnerving gaze, you began to fidget, your resolve slowly dissolving. Squeezing your eyes shut, you relented. 

“Okay, maybe I am the littlest, tiniest bit in love with Spencer Reid.”

“Well, duh, but what I really need to know is when you’re gonna tell him.”

“When? Garcia, this is not a ‘when’ question. Actually, it’s not a question at all because never in a million years would I ever tell him.”

“Why not?” she exclaimed, gesturing with her pen still in hand. “You spend almost all of your time together, at work and at home! You guys go to bookstores and museums and cafes. He talks about his silly little statistics, and you listen, and you make your silly little jokes, and he laughs; you’re a match made in heaven! And he’s so obviously into you! That boy writes the definition of heart eyes every time he looks at you.”

Steeling your jaw, you rebutted, “That’s just not true.” Your voice faltered. “Sure, I’ve noticed a certain...affection, but he does not love me in the same way I love him.” You let out a shaky breath before deciding to continue. “Did you know that in all of our years of friendship he’s never touched me? I mean sure, it’s happened once or twice in the field, but that was always an accident. And yeah, I know he has his thing with germs, but don’t you think if he liked me as anything more than a friend, he would have done something by now? A pinky promise, a teasing elbow jab—I don’t know—something?”

Penelope’s face softened, and she tried to recover your confidence. “He’s like that with everyone! He likes his space. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him initiate contact with anyone on the team.”

 “But isn’t that the point, Garcia? I’m just like everyone else to him. He wants space from me.” Bitterness roiled in your stomach and dripped from your tongue. “Not very romantic, huh?” 

Trying to piece together a counterargument, she stumbled slightly, “No, I will give you that.” She paused. “But I think he’s just scared. Not of germs, not of you, but of his feelings for you. He’s not the most well-adjusted person I know.”

You chuckled lightly, gradually resuming your normally light-hearted disposition, “I would agree.”

“Well, I hope he likes his present.”

The semblance of a tired smile graced your face. “Yeah, me too.” 

You turned to walk out and had almost made it out the door when her voice stopped you. “Also, I will stop sending suspicious pop-ups to your computer.”

Peeking back through the doorway, you grinned.“I think it’d be for the best. Texting does exist for a reason.”

——— 

It had been a really good day. It wasn’t often where an entire day in the bullpen passed only with friends and laughter and love and light, but today was one of them. Snow fell silently outside the windows, but everything inside felt warm like laughing so hard that your cheeks ache and your stomach hurts.

By now, a sort of daze had befallen the team as the giddiness wore on and the alcohol set in, fuzzing eyes and minds. Most everyone had paired off after the gift exchange a few minutes prior, but no one had drifted too far. (Maybe it was the team instinct: never stray too far from the pack, but it was also likely that everyone just enjoyed the proximity to their loved ones, their family.) Garcia seemed to be in heaven, tucked into Morgan’s side on a couch that had been dragged haphazardly into the bullpen, and murmured conversation stretched on with intermittent peals of laughter. Predictably, Hotch and Rossi had sequestered themselves to a nearby desk, their scotch glasses never dry and grins never fading. (Hotch during the holidays was something special. His often frigid demeanor thawed, and out from the ice peeked his former self who wasn’t so serious. (His rare giggles were quite the surprise though.)) Emily and JJ sat on the latter’s desk, discussing anything and everything (except for psychopathic murderers), while you had pulled your chair up to sit beside Spencer at his desk. 

“So are you pleased about your gift from Rossi?” you asked, a faint grin playing at your lips.

“I am,” he replied, clearly enthused. “But I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he managed to get an authentic TARDIS key.” His finger traced the edge of the authenticity certificate Rossi had bestowed on him that sat on his desk; the key was already hanging around his neck.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded. “Well, money is a powerful thing.”

“True,” he mused before furrowing his brow. “But that’s another thing, the expense limit is not a suggestion, but he always treats it like it is. Puts all the rest of us to shame.”

“There’s no shame in an inexpensive gift!” you argued. “As long as time or thought was put in, it doesn’t matter.”

“Penelope surely didn’t skimp on time spent for yours,” he said, pointing to the homemade knitted hat and glove set on the desk beside you.

“No, I did not!” she yelled from her spot on the couch, somehow having managed to pick up on your conversation, and you laughed. “Lots and lots of time and love was poured into those!” Her speech was slightly slurred as her eggnog intake began to infringe on her lucidity.

“I know this, and I love you for it,” you beamed at her.

“I love you too.” She proceeded to bury her face in Derek’s shoulder who could only chuckle at her antics. 

You picked up a glove and inspected it. “I truly cannot comprehend how she made these. Circular knitting needles are my living hell.”

Sitting up with renewed interest, Spencer said, “If you need help with them, I could lend a hand. I knit my mom a sweater this year, and I think I finally understand how they work if you ever wanted me to show you.”

“I’d love that.” Hopefully, the flush of your cheeks could be blamed on the wine you had had. “Speaking of your mom, how is she? Are you excited to see her?”

The corners of his mouth turned up, and he nodded. “She’s good; her nurse said she’s been doing really well lately. She’s less paranoid, more alert, so I’m really excited. I think this will be a good trip.”

“I’m so glad!” You sat there with a dumb smile for a moment, your mind lagging for a moment (damn wine) before realization crashed onto you. “Wait, speaking of your mom, I have something for you!” He cocked his head to the side as you stood up and went to your desk, rifling through one of the drawers. Pulling out a neatly wrapped gift, you trotted back over and offered it to him. “This is for you.”

He took it, running a hand over the wrapping paper (it was the one with cowboys wearing Santa hats that you had found when shopping together a couple weeks before, his favorite). “(Y/N), you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Shrugging lightly, you said, “Yeah, I know we did the whole gift exchange thing, but I saw it, and I thought of you and had to get it.” And you definitely did not actively seek this out for him in the search for his perfect present. Which is something somebody who is definitely not in love with him would do.

He looked up at you, eyes already glassy and searching your face for something. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but then he met your gaze with unwavering certainty. “Thank you, (Y/N/N).”

“No problem, ya big sap, now open it already.” 

Ever the cautious one, he opened it carefully, sliding a finger under the edge of the paper and gently easing the tape up. The small action of unwrapping a present so attentively was just so Spencer your heart swelled as you suppressed the growing grin. From the paper emerged a book.

“‘A Collection of Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer,’” he murmured, smoothing a hand over the cover.

When he didn’t immediately react, seemingly frozen, nerves crept up the back of your neck, and you sputtered out some sort of reasoning. “I know your mom used to read Chaucer to you; you mentioned ‘The Parliament of Fowls’ when we worked the Fisher King case, and it’s in this collection, and I thought it’d be fun for you to take it to Vegas and read it together and—”

Your explanation came to an abrupt halt as Spencer threw his arms around you, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. Immediately melting into it, you embraced him with a similar intensity and buried your face in his neck. Something in his touch allowed you to let go, and it felt like the moment you could finally exhale. 

A breath you’d been holding for longer than you could remember. 

You could smell the cologne that he wore for ‘special occasions’ and his shampoo and something so faint but so undeniably him, and his hand slid up to the back of your head, cradling it in the most tender fashion, and you felt like you could cry. So you pulled him closer, and he did the same.

The hug definitely lasted longer than what most people would find comfortable, but neither of you could be convinced to retreat until you became aware of the silence that had settled over the bullpen. You felt the many pairs of eyes on you, and it pained you to pry yourself off of Spencer. Breathless, you looked around at the shocked faces of your co-workers who sat with mouths agape and eyes wide. You coughed slightly to try to ease the tension and then for some reason beyond your knowledge, you decided to wave at them in the most awkward fashion. Sitting back down, you could feel stares lingering as conversation resumed, and you looked up at Reid who looked like a deer in headlights. You laughed quietly, tugging his sleeve until he received the memo and sat down again. 

He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, glancing at his present. “Thank you for the book, (Y/N/N).”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your tone earnest as ever. Still reeling from the hug, you faintly became aware of the speed of your heartbeat and unconsciously brought a hand to your chest. You attempted fruitlessly to sort through your raging thoughts, while across from you, Spencer tried to think of something, anything to say now. 

He couldn’t really believe he’d done it. His germaphobia remained everpresent, but somehow the emotion welling in his chest at your sincerity and benevolence had overridden it, and he felt helpless in stopping himself. His heart had lurched in his chest as if it was suddenly struck with the need to be in your hands, propelling him forward. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to. He had wanted to for so long, but he’d never mustered the courage before. There was something so special, so intimate about touch, and so many people gave it so freely, and he just didn’t understand how they could allow themselves the indulgence. The absolute luxury of giving and receiving love. Spencer often felt like he sat by a window, watching his life pass by outside of it, and he had always wanted to open it, to really experience all the joy and all the grief and all the love that was waiting for him, but it was scary to open himself up to those feelings and the hurt that could ensue. So, he usually sat discontented by his window. But today, it was like he’d grabbed a hammer and smashed the glass completely and stepped through to be able to return the love you had offered him. 

It felt so good.

But now, he had no idea what to do. He stood there in the midst of the shattered glass, and deep down, he knew had to take the last couple steps to get to you, but he didn’t know how. 

His fingers fidgeted in his lap as he analyzed your blank face, trying to find something to give him the next direction when a realization hit him. “I didn’t get you anything!”

Drawn back from the depths of whatever thought you had been stuck in, you met his gaze and shook your head. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I broke the gift exchange rules to get you something, so you had no way of knowing.”

“But I feel terrible.” His eyebrows drew together, and he frantically tried to think of some way to repay you. “You get me an incredibly lovely and wonderfully thoughtful gift, and I’m the loser who didn’t get his best friend a present!”

“Spencer—”

“Wait!” he interrupted, a revelation arriving. (He knew how to take the last steps.) “When I get back after the holidays, do you want to get dinner with me? Then, we can go to the bookstore on 10th that you love, and you can pick out a book, and I’ll pay.”

Your eyes widened further than you thought possible, and your heart which had only partially recovered was off to the races once again. You decided to take the plunge and ask the burning question. “Do you—um, do you mean like a date?”

“Yeah,” he answered, beaming so brightly. “Yes. Like a date. If you want to.”

You held each other’s gaze, and the warmth that had filled the bullpen all day filled your chests, and you smiled so hard your faces hurt. 

So silly, you thought, to have wasted all this time boarding up my affection and keeping it tucked away, safe and useless.

So ridiculous, he thought, to have sat by that stupid window for so many years when the real thing feels so sweet.

“I think I’d like that a lot.”

[arielana]

Yeah, I don’t know what this is. It came from the tiny RNM teaser in TV insider - I was grumpy that basically all the info we got was about Liz’s lab partners abs (not that grumpy, but you know).

Anyway, I wrote this, about Liz and Michael bonding. Just really silly. 

A warning that there is drinking.

____

“Michael!”

“Ortecho, seriously why are you calling me at this hour?”

“I need you to take some time off. Come to California.”

“Sure thing, I’ll pack my little overnight bag and swing right by. I’ve been dying to do some sightseeing.”

“Yeah yeah, funny. I don’t have time for all that. Look I’ve discovered something, here in the lab, that might be relevant to your interests. I can’t get a sample out, but if an old friend from Roswell comes to visit I could give them a tour of the lab. So, just get your ass over here.”

***

That had been two days ago. Michael had some work he’d promised Sanders to finish first and he refused to fly (the thought of airport security freaked him out) so he’d set off in his truck after finishing up at Sanders the next day. He’d driven through the night, arrived very early in the morning and checked into a motel Liz had recommended that was close to her work.

After getting some sleep and showering he was now standing in the fancy lobby of the Genoryx building, feeling slightly overwhelmed but doing his best not to show it. His cowboy swagger usually worked in most places so he figured it would do ok here as well. 

Just to test it, he leaned slightly against the counter and threw the receptionist who had told him Liz would be right down a little smile. Judging by the way she blushed, he wouldn’t do too bad here either if he felt like it. Not that he did feel like it. There was really only one person’s company he wanted and since that wasn’t available to him currently, he focused on other things.

“Mikey!”

Liz came bouncing down the stairs, running straight up and jumping into his arms to hug him.

She had a certain energy that always put Michael in a better mood, even the times when she annoyed him. There was never any bullshit with her. 

“Hey Ortecho,” he grinned. “Good to see you.” 

“Good to see you too. Would have been even better if you got here sooner,” she bumped her shoulder lightly into his when he put her down, “but it’s great that you’re here.”

Before Michael could ask what all the fuss was about, he noticed a guy had followed Liz and was now hanging back, waiting to be introduced.

Noticing Michael’s look, Liz spun around, waving the guy forward. 

“Heath, come meet Michael. Michael, meet Heath. He’s my colleague from the lab. We do all our work together.”

Michael thought he picked up a little something in the way Heath looked when Liz said “colleague”, but he wasn’t sure. He was a good looking guy, tall, athletic, not the stereotypical scientist. Not that Michael cared much for stereotypes, so he shouldn’t apply them to others either, he reminded himself. 

“So, we’re just about to go out for lunch,” Liz said. “Do you mind if Heath joins us?”

“Of course not.” 

Michael was pleasantly surprised by how fun and relaxed lunch was. Small talk had never really been his thing, but science small talk was a whole other thing he realised. That’s why he had enjoyed hanging out with Liz back in Roswell, and Heath, despite looking more like an actor or model, turned out to absolutely be able to hold his own in the discussion.

After lunch things didn’t go quite as Liz had planned though. Her boss was apparently giving some other people a tour that afternoon and even if he kindly offered Michael to join them as well, Liz quickly switched gears.

“Actually Michael was yawning his way through lunch,” she ignored Michael’s little huff. “He pretends he’s fine but he’s had a long drive. He’s staying for a couple of days anyway, there’s no rush.”

She grabbed Michael’s arm firmly and dragged him towards the exit. 

“Really Liz, I was planning on going back home tomorrow,” Michael complained, without putting any real force behind it. “This isn't really my scene.”

“Oh knock it off, Michael. You were practically beaming at lunch, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself. And look, it’s just one more day. Tomorrow’s Friday so there’ll be less people around. We’ll do a tour in the afternoon. I’ll make up something to keep Heath busy, won’t be a problem.”

“So for today,” she continued, “how about you get some more sleep, and then we can go out tonight, eat something, have a few drinks. Maybe some dancing,” she winked at him.

“Drinks yes, dancing no, but sure, I don¨t mind checking out the bars here.” Michael gave Liz a considering look. “So tell me, is Heath coming?”

“What, no, why would he?”

Aha, judging by the brief flush of red on her cheeks, there was definitely something going on there, Michael noticed. Maybe something to explore later. He could be a good brother and try to get some more information. Max was certainly asking enough questions about him and Alex, looking at Michael with those big puppy eyes, acting hurt when Michael snapped at him. This could be payback (helping Max out, Michael corrected himself).

**

Dinner continued in the same way as lunch, with them geeking out about new research and theories (careful to steer clear of any alien references while in public) covering everything from global warming to medical advances.

Afterwards they continued on to a bar and after a couple of drinks Michael figured Liz had let down her guard enough for him to do some digging.

“So, Ortecho… tell me about Heath?”

“What?” Liz said with feigned innocence.

“Just wondering, I mean he’s really fit, dark hair, smart, funny, exactly what I look for, in both men and women,” he winked at her.

“Michael!” Liz sounded scandalized

“Unless he’s taken, of course”

Liz twisted uncomfortably in her seat. “It feels weird talking to you about this.”

“Why?” Michael smirked at her, raising his eyebrows. He enjoyed this. He never really got to have a bro moment with anyone growing up. Too busy not letting anyone come too close. But Liz, she got it, she was the same as him in so many ways. 

“Hey. no judgement here. Tell me, is he really as jacked as he looks?”

Liz sighed deeply, before giving up and leaning back with a dreamy expression on her face.

“He really is. Seriously, his abs are amazing. Not that that kind of thing is really important to me of course,” she hurried to add, “but it’s just- nice.”

“So, Valenti,” Michael pulled a face,” Diego, this Heath guy. I see you also prefer dark hair but other than that I really don’t see that many similarities to Max?”

“You know,” Liz took a sip from her drink, clearly deflecting, “from the stories I heard about you before, you know, everything,” she waved her hands vaguely, “I was under the impression it was mainly blondes that you were dragging home from the Pony?”

Michael shrugged. “That was just sex. But then again,” he added consideringly, “I’ve only ever been in two relationships. So they were both dark haired, but that’s not enough to draw a conclusion based on statistics, maybe it’s just coincidence.”

 Liz's gaze sharpened. “Relationships, huh?”

It was Michael's turn to try to deflect. ’Hey, see if you can flag down the waitress, I need another beer.”

“In a minute.” Liz tilted her head questioningly, “I wasn’t aware you considered what you had with Alex an actual relationship?”

Michael hesitated. He knew Liz could probably read him like an open book right now, but he also knew that if he said he didn't want to get into it she’d respect that and let it go. For now at least.

But he’d said more than once that he was tired of keeping secrets. Liz was a friend and it would actually be nice to talk to someone.

“If we’re really going to talk about this I’m going to need another drink.”

“Me too,” Liz thought about it for a second. “Tequila?”

“Tequila.”

**

An hour later they were both just giggly messes.

Michael had shared his and Alex's story over the years, Liz had opened up about the shock of seeing Max again and they had bonded over how no amount of distance or years really made the feelings go away. It had been very emotional once the tequila kicked in. They had both shed some tears and comforted each other. 

At this point in the evening however, they had gone full circle and were back to discussing abs again and both blushing.

“Maybe we should just tell them,” Liz said.

“Yeah, they’d hate that. You’re safe here, but I have to go back. If Alex doesn’t get to me first and give me the ‘Guerin, you’re such a disappointment’ look, Max will give me a lecture about ‘upholding personal boundaries, Michael’. Both a total pain in the ass.”

“Ok, let’s take a selfie and send as well then. If they see our sweet faces they can’t be mad.”

“Ortecho, I think you dropped your logic somewhere on the way here.”

“Come on, you said the two of you are at a stalemate right? Since Alex broke up with Forrest?”

Michael made a face.

“This will give things a nudge,” Liz said. “Plus it’s sent from my phone so you can deny all knowledge of it.”

“Have you met Alex?”

Liz just waved her phone at him. Michael swallowed.

He wasn’t drunk enough not to know that this maybe wasn't the smartest idea, but it was kind of tempting anyway. Just to see how Alex would react.

“Yay,” Liz pulled him in for a selfie, instructing him to make his best puppy eyes before adding the text to the picture and pressing send.

Just so you know, you both have really good abs as well. We love your abs very much. Xoxo, Liz and Mikey

It took no time at all before both their phones started buzzing with an incoming call.

[writermuses]

💤 What was your last naughty dream about? - Elie

I was in the American midwest... not sure how that came about, probably the Toy Story marathon before bed, but there I was- big open blue sky and rolling mountains, lush green trees. The only thing in sight were some horses on a ranch. I didn’t see a single familiar thing and I knew I was lost, so I knock on the door and out walks my favorite person but in tight jeans, a plaid shirt, cowboy boots, and a Stetson. It was so jarring that I started laughing and, thinking Oh, it’s Jude, I told you that you looked nice but that I’m going to miss the coats and the accent. Cowboy Jude wasn’t happy about being teased and definitely wasn’t happy about some silly little princess being the one to tease him. He said he’d help me, but I had to be a good girl and do what he said, make up for making him feel so bad about tight jeans and silly hats. I promised I could do that, apologized a lot for what I’d said, but he insisted actions spoke louder than words. When I said I’d help around the farm with the horses, since I grew up with them, he asked if a silly princess could even tie a knot and that he’d show me. The thing was, Cowboy Jude took me into the ranch house, not out to the barn. Let’s just say, I learned the meaning of ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’...

[omegatheunknown]

AEW Double or Nothing 2021

In which the spirit of WCW is alive in confusing and delightful ways and we are left to parse whether overbooking and extracurriculars are offset by having actually very good wrestling happening at the same time.

- Lessons learned from Revolution on the production side? Maybe just cool it on pyro, though the rappelling adventure in the Stadium Stampede showed some of that now-characteristic 'trust us it'll look better on TV' flair. Hot crowd tends to paper over most woes, and the crowd was pretty hot. My one gripe is that the casino theme is hanging around like yesterday's takeout containers. Nothing wrong with clinging to a theme, I just think it's time for season 2. My suggestion? Under the Sea.

*Pre-Card Serena Deeb (C) v Riho for the NWA Women's Championship (***1/2) - Serena Deeb's star has finally risen. She's a remarkably consistent technician and she can get a match out of anyone at this point. She's working at the level of Mercedes Martinez or Madison Eagles at this point, it's amazing that she was overlooked or considered fit only to be a coach for so long. With the NWA belt she has this new swagger, she's basically everything Tessa Blanchard might bring to the table with none of the downsides (Serena has a lot of friends and seems like a lovely person, even!) - Riho's back and here to stay. Her time in Stardom didn't do much for my evaluation of her, which is that there are many better wrestlers that would be better representatives of the joshi style and she's merely pretty good. - The match was very good. Serena showcased a champion's aggression against a sympathetic Riho, they really work well against each other, Deeb's technical prowess against Riho's flexibility led to a very dynamic finish.

*Main Card Hangman Adam Page v Brian Cage (***1/2) - Here the shenanigans start. Brian Cage is on Team Taz, Team Taz has nothing else much to do tonight, so why wouldn't Team Taz flex their muscles, bait us with HOOK, etc? (Because it would be nice to have some variety in the card in terms of a match where one competitor stands across from another competitor?) - Hangman is (checking notes) yeah, still over as fuck, as befits the Anxious Millennial Cowboy. Cage terrifies me, he's a child's drawing of a body builder. He do be very agile for a man of his immense musculature tho. They match up well, Page is biggish for a flyer, Cage loves to play catch. Nothing much to write home about, other than Hangman's beautiful moonsault to the floor and what was overall a very good curtain jerker. - Okay fine, I am curious about Cage's reluctance to lean on the goons, Starks can't come back soon enough.

The Young Bucks v Jon Moxley & Eddie Kingston (***) - I will not be referring to Mox & Eddie as (The) Wild Things because it gives me 'he calls it the wacky line' flashbacks for some reason. - The Bucks have to cheat and abuse Rick Knox's attention span constantly to be on even footing with Mox & Eddie, which is a clever sort of thing that gets washed out by the appearance of LG and Karl Anderson, which again, is cool in a vacuum but was the story of the evening. - Pace was weird - repetitive in eliminating Eddie, then Mox fights back, failed hope spot, Bucks team up, Eddie saves x2/3 in a row. - Mox, unlike Cody (in so many ways,) will probably actually be taking some time off with Renee, which is the kind of thing I would prefer not to know in terms of booking, but they really uh, put him down on the canvas here, and it felt pretty finale-esque.

Casino Battle Royale (n/r, but on the balance pro) - Any changes to the theme of the PPV would likely include changing up the nonsense suit format of these largely joyless slogs. - Obviously anticipating a NJPW talent, or... I dunno, actually -- Lio Rush was a surprise. Got in a quick demonstration of his otherworldly quickness, and you know what, there's probably a fun place for him in AEW. He'll need some friends, of course, feel like Team Taz might fit his temperament. I wonder if he was aware of the Mark Henry news... - Christian does not need to win this kind of match to get a title shot, obviously, but that said it was super lovely to use him to give Jungle Boy the shine. Jungle Boy would be a license to print money if he was even as big as Hangman. - Could register some continued griping about how Penta is not getting his due in AEW but he also literally was dressed as the Joker so I'm low on sympathy on this one particular night.

Anthony Ogogo v Cody Rhodes (*) - I did not like this. It's hard for me to read jingoism as a face move to begin with, and Cody's was egregiously tone deaf and kinda silly yet delivered without a trace of irony because Cody doesn't do irony on purpose, ridiculous neck tattoo aside. - Great argument to be made that Ogogo just isn't experienced enough to be winning matches against Cody. But like, what are we doing here? Cody needs to take some time off, maybe. I thought that's what was happening when he had his mini feud with Penta that really just ended in quick decisive Cody win. I though maybe Cody was being turned when QT and The Factory snapped-- sure, they're a group of impotent player 2s, but Cody is an out of touch elitist with a callous and manipulative streak. Alas, also no. America #1. - Cody is approximately 8 times as tough as Billy Gunn based on his weathering of the one punch man. Match ran a bit long given how little there was to go on. Cody gigged? Quelle surprise. - Cody had the best match on the card like, 3 out of the first 4 AEW events or something, and that was all booking and storytelling. I do hope Cody follows Moxley's lead into a little sabbatical.

Miro (C) v Lance Archer for the TNT Championship (**1/2) - Card's hossiest hoss match, a quick burst reminiscent of a car wreck. Absolutely hit on what it should've hit on but a little slow moving considering it went all of 10 minutes. - I will not complain about Jake the Snake, who I love. And also the gimmick spot, with Miro very astutely yeeting what was definitely a snake in a bag (surely.) back down the tunnel.

Dr Britt Baker, DMD v Hikaru Shida (C) for the AEW Women's Championship (***) - Picked up a lot of steam toward the end but seemed a little toothless (heh) until the last five. - Shida 'deserved' some more time as champion in front of crowds but also it's time to let heel Britt reach her peak, I can't even imagine how obnoxious she can be as the champ, it's going to be great.

Sting & Darby Allin v Ethan Page & Scorpio Sky (***1/2) - Such is the power of STING that I feel like I might be underrating this match... I mean it was an okay match about very simply getting some revenge and the sixty year old man did a very subdued Code Red and a slightly less subdued dive. He's also Sting. They missed an opportunity in calling it the 'Scorpio' Death Drop, but the main takeaway here is you see something like this where it's The Icon and you start to understand why WWE trots out their legends to come out of incredibly still kick ass without bending their knees. - The difference, I guess, is that Sting is absolutely being used to build up Darby Allin, whereas it's not like the fed brought back Goldberg and his attendant aura to pump up... anyone but Goldberg?

Kenny Omega (C) v PAC v Orange Cassidy for the AEW World Championship (****) - Off the top I have to say I'm very sad that the rest of the Galaxy's Greatest Friends were seen only very briefly, nice of them to bring OC's backpack. - Also have to point out that PAC's promo featured one of my favourite jokes, that Kenny must be short for Kenneth as a sort of legal/birth name belonging to a professional wrestler. (See also: Samoa Joseph) - And Mr Cassidy certainly did try in this match, ragdoll sells and all. Kenneth and PAC are absurd talents who bring aerial, power and technical maneuvers in equal measure and OC is not doing any of those on the same level, but he picked his spots, showed his genre savvy and hung in there to the point that he wasn't just the fall guy. - The extracurriculars continue in a match that was already a little overboard for silliness due to asymmetry... I think if you're the Invisible Hand it would've made sense to save up all your tricks for this match, but who am I to question the golden goose? - Sure, Kenny and Don ran the classic heel manager interference spot and taking out the ref in desperation spot but having to take out the ref because PAC wouldn't break the hold is fun, as is the stupid/inspired sense in running the 'smash opponent with the belt' spot four times so as none of your heavy gold prizes feel left out. (I love that AAA Mega Championship, they weren't on TV so we get to see it?) - "Fuck You, Don," indeed.

The Inner Circle v The Pinnacle in 'Stadium Stampede II' (***1/2) - This one had to grow on me for two reasons, first that it's usually pretty unforgivable to co-opt the main event spot from the championship match, and second to law of diminishing returns on dumb gimmick matches. - But grow it did. There's a full on meat locker? Commentary will refer to a cardboard cut-out of Shahid Khan as Tony Khan's father (that's canon now,) and Jericho will lovingly pat it? Konnan happened to be the DJ at whatever night club there is a Jaguar Stadium? Spears surrounds himself dramatically with chairs and his hoisted by his own petard? - Ultimately it comes down to letting Sammy shine. His involvement with the Inner Circle has sometimes come at the cost of being able to showcase that prior to AEW he was an ascendant talent in PWG, on his way to Ricochet level feats of acrobatic excess. Still feel like Sammy could've/should've been the one tossed off the cage a few weeks ago, but even better is being the guy getting the pin in the ring.

[yeah-klave]

A Short History of What Happened - Chapter 5

Written, with love, for EnKlave Fest 2021.

Catch up with the story so far: Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4

Prompt: Omegas aren’t allowed to join the army, but then Omega!Klaus gets dropped into Vietnam and has to pose as a Beta. He manages quite well, right until he goes into heat. Alpha!Dave is protective and incredibly aroused/horny.

Genre: Omega verse, smut, developing relationships, slow burn, undercover, misunderstandings, secretly in love.

Word length: This chapter: 3.9k

Warning: Implied, canon-compliant abuse. Implied homophobia. Discussion of AU-specific political issues, including victim-blaming, gay-shame and dub-con medical procedures. The entire work, when posted, will contain explicit sexual content. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of The Umbrella Academy characters or settings.

***************************************************************

They walked on in silence for a while.

Dave wasn’t quite sure why or how, but he felt more content in this moment than he had in months, years even. Maybe ever.

It was ridiculous. The man walking beside him was practically a stranger. A mystery; with secrets and a painful history and – quite possibly – more than a little darkness inside him.

Dave couldn’t explain it, but somehow, he still felt a… pull.

Perhaps Klaus did live in a world of shadows, but maybe Dave could turn on the light. Maybe Dave could be the light.

Dave heard a gentle inhale next to him and turned to see Klaus breathing deeply, his eyes closed and his heard tilted back slightly.

Dave faltered, was he… scenting the air?

Klaus’ lashes fluttered and he opened his eyes and caught Dave’s gaze. His irises were thin green disks around the dark pools of his blown pupils.

“Whaafght,” Dave stuttered.

Klaus blinked.

Dave composed himself, took a deep breath and started again.

“What,” Dave swallowed, thinking frantically and eventually grasping at the first coherent thought that came to him, “what kind of music do you like?”

Before him, a smile spread slowly across Klaus’ face and a twinkle lit up his eyes.

“Buckle up, David,” Klaus smiled, “I’m about to take you on a wild ride.”

And he did.

Dave hadn’t even heard of most of the songs Klaus listed off. In fact, he didn’t recognise them to all, even when Klaus sang bits aloud in a breathy, enthusiastic, but slightly off-key voice. Dave was feeling light and relaxed, but he didn’t start getting giggly until Klaus began adding the accompanying dance moves – a series of shimmies, little hip rolls and dramatic arm movements. Dave started laughing. And once he started, he found it really difficult to stop. The sound of Dave attempting to supress his giggling seemed to spur Klaus on because he just started hamming it up even more.

Dave tried to get himself under control a couple of times, glancing around nervously, aware of where they were. But the coast looked completely clear and then he’d look back at Klaus and the expression on his face would set him off again.

“I’ve never,” Dave wheezed between peals of laughter, “even heard of these songs. My favourite song is The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. Where you’re from must be much hipper than where I grew up.”

“Ohmigod, Dave!” Klaus choked, “Hip! You’re just too precious!”

“It means trendy or… happening,” Dave helpfully supplied.

Klaus’ faced creased and he doubled over in silent giggles.

“That’s perfect,” Klaus choked out, gasping for air, “absolutely spiffing! Completely ripping! Positively groovy!”

Dave didn’t quite get the joke, but grinned along with him.

“It must have been, though,” Dave bobbed his head earnestly. “We must be pretty out of touch with the cool music where I’m from.”

“Where’s that?” Klaus asked.

“Near Dallas,” Dave supplied.

“Ooh, a Southerner!” Klaus said. “So, Dave, are you more a smooth Southern gentleman or rough Texas cowboy?”

Dave paused. “Neither,” he said finally, “I’m just me. Just boring old Dave Katz. There’s nothing interesting about me. I’m just… a plain hamburger kind of a guy.”

Klaus looked at him steadily. “I don’t buy that at all,” he said. “There’s nothing plain hamburger about you, Dave.”

“Well,” Dave corrected himself. “Actually, my order would probably be plain hamburger with two pickles, if I’m being exact. And picky.”

“Exactly,” Klaus grinned. “See, just what I said! Flavour! Dave Katz likes to slip a bit of pickle in his hamburger!”

Klaus wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Dave coughed uncomfortably. This conversation was straying into dangerous territory.

“How do you take your hamburger, then?” Dave asked.

“I like a little pickle,” Klaus said. “Well actually, I like a big pickle. A big, hard pickle.” He waggled his eyebrows again and then did an adorable little two-eyed wink. Dave felt his cheeks heating up at the same time his heart clenched a little at the cuteness. “The cheese can go take a running jump, though,” Klaus added, “and it had better come with fries and ketchup or else heads will roll. To be honest though, hamburger probably wouldn’t be my first choice for favourite food.”

“What would be?” Dave asked, interested.

Klaus pondered. “I knew someone once who made amazing ossobuco, that was pretty good. And I’ve always had a sweet spot of doughnuts. My siblings and I used to…” Klaus trailed off.

Dave held his breath, but Klaus didn’t add any more. Dave chanced a glance sideways. Klaus had a distant, faraway look in his eyes.

Dave racked his brain for a change of topic.

“Have you ever read Dune?” he asked.

Klaus appeared to give himself a little shake.

“No,” he said, “what’s it about?”

“Well,” and with that, Dave launched into a monologue about his favourite ever book. As he talked, he saw Klaus’ eyes flitting over his face, smiling and nodding along. There was a warmth and fondness there that took Dave by surprise; an unguarded acceptance. The mutual respect of a new friendship. It made Dave feel giddy and drunk, a bubble of happiness growing inside him.

Dave was just wondering whether he should start telling Klaus about his interpretation of the ‘fear is the little death’ line, when he suddenly noticed in the distance, the location of the new camp they were travelling towards.

Reality hit him like a punch to the face.

He’d had all this time alone with Klaus to talk about the difficult things, the things they couldn’t speak about in front of the others and they’d wasted it on hamburgers and silly dance moves. In fact, he’d hardly got any answers to the multitude of questions that has been plaguing him since Klaus first arrived. They still had so many practical things they needed to discuss.

“Klaus,” Dave said, his voice low and urgent.

Klaus flinched and looked around quickly for the danger.

Guiltily, Dave backtracked.

“No. Sorry. It’s fine. It’s just, we’ve almost arrived and…” he paused, usure how to phrase the next bit. “There are still a few things we should probably talk about first.”

“Like what?” Klaus asked, his voice innocent and confused.

“Well…” Dave started slowly. “You know…” He looked at Klaus hopefully. Klaus looked back, nonplussed.

Dave shifted uncomfortably, then whispered. “You know… omega stuff.” He swallowed. “Like… how we’re going to mask your scent and keep you safe.” He shifted uncomfortably again. “And then there’s,” he gave an embarrassed little cough, “there’s your…. ummmm…” his cheeks were bright red now, “there’s your…” he looked down and finally mumbled, “your heats.”

“Oh,” Klaus said breezily. “No need to worry about that, I have the suppressor implant.” He waved Dave’s words off with a distracted flap of his hand. “And the IUD, too” he added as an afterthought. “With the scent thing, though, I thought you said the others were all betas? They won’t be able to smell me. Only alphas can smell omegas. And there’s just you, so I’m all good.”

Dave frowned, confused. “What do you mean implant?”

“The heat suppressor implant,” Klaus clarified. “I have been – almost exclusively – since I was in my teens.” His face darkened. “My dad made me. He didn’t trust me. I mean, it’s not like I wanted to get bonded to the first alpha that came along, or get myself knocked up at seventeen. But I would have liked the chance to masturbate my way through my heats in my locked bedroom like a normal teenage omega. What I really needed was a whack-off dildo. But, oh no! That’s not okay for Number Four. He had to have the medical implant instead.”

Dave frowned deeper, trying desperately to keep up.

“Are you saying,” he said slowly, “that you have something implanted in you that’s stops you going into heat?”

“Umm, yeah,” Klaus drawled, looking at him as though Dave was the one talking nonsense. But then his eyes got really wide and he snapped his mouth shut.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, staring into the middle distance. “They didn’t start doing that until…” he paused, “So nobody here has…” he trailed off again.

“Klaus?” Dave prompted.

Klaus gave a deep sigh. “Look,” he said. “I can’t explain it. But we don’t need to worry about my heats. I’m good for easily another few months.” He sighed again deeply. “And by then I expect Five will have… done something anyway... probably come and got me. So, I’ll be long gone before that’s an issue.”

Dave choked. “There are five of them after you?”

“What?” Klaus frowned. “No, Five. My brother Five.”

Dave was completely lost. “Okay,” he said slowly, still not quite sure what had happened but somehow trusting that Klaus knew what he was talking about. “Okay, that’s good, I think. So unexpected heats is something we can cross off the list of worries.”

“Yes.” Klaus gave a definitive nod. “So go on, what else did you have on that list?” Klaus asked. “It was my scent, wasn’t it? I don’t get what’s the big deal is if we’re just surrounded by betas?”

“Everyone else in our unit are betas,” Dave confirmed. “But there are alphas in the other units. I mean,” he added delicately, “I don’t know if any that are openly… you know…” he trailed off.

“Gay?” Klaus supplied.

“Yeah,” Dave said thankfully. “But, I mean, that’s not to say there aren’t any. If they were they’d probably – no definitely – try to hide that.” Dave twisted his face in discomfort. Klaus was looked at him unblinkingly, a question lodged behind his slightly furrowed brows.

Dave swallowed again and tried to steady his breathing, determinedly not making eye contact. He couldn’t let Klaus know that he was talking about himself. Not after everything Klaus had said earlier about manipulative alphas only being kind to omegas for sex. He wanted Klaus to feel safe. He wanted Klaus to trust him.

So Dave couldn’t let him know that he was one of those kind of alphas. The ones who were attracted to men. The alphas who were almost as rare as male omegas. After what Klaus had shared about his past, he didn’t want Klaus to feel scared of him. He didn’t want to make him feel like… prey.

Klaus was one hundred percent safe with Dave. Dave knew he would never force himself on anyone. But Klaus didn’t know that. Klaus would just see him as a potential threat. Even worse, he might think that he was manipulating him, that Dave had befriended him on false pretences, only to get close to him and... and… Dave shuddered.

Klaus had made it very clear – he was running from an abusive alpha. So absolutely under no circumstances could Dave let him know his preferences. The competing alpha urges battled inside him again: desire and protection. Protection won.

“So,” Klaus said slowly, “you’re saying I need to be careful to hide the fact that I’m an omega from the alphas in other units, not because they’d want to fuck me – because they’re probably not interested in that – but because they’d out me as an omega. And I’d then be sent… back.”

“Yeah,” Dave nodded. “And if back isn’t safe for you, then we need to make sure they don’t find out, so that you can stay here where you’re safe. Safer.”

“Okay,” Klaus said. “How do we hide my omega-ness from them, then?”

“Well,” Dave said, “for a start, don’t tell anyone you’re an omega.”

“Good one, Sherlock” Klaus grinned.

“Secondly,” Dave said ignoring Klaus’ comment with a small shrug and a roll of his eyes, “I guess, try to keep the scent glands in your neck and wrists covered as much as possible. Clothing is okay for a start, but if you’re going to be around alphas for any length of time, it might be a good idea to cover up even more… bandages or dressings maybe? Or – at a push – a layer of mud might work.”

“That sounds gross.” Klaus wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“I know, it sucks,” Dave pulled a sympathetic face, “but it’s safer.”

“It sucks to be safe!” Klaus huffed in frustration. “And you have no idea how much it really sucks. I’m not really one for coving up. I like to live my life scantily clad.”

Dave swallowed and looked resolutely ahead.

“You know…” Klaus said in a sing-song voice, “bare chested twink, make the boys wink…”

“Twink?” Dave frowned.

“That would be me, Dave,” Klaus said, waving his arms in a flourish that took in his whole body. He did a quick twirl on the spot.

“Oh.” Dave could feel his face heating up again.

“Or,” Klaus carried on, “if you want to sin, show some skin… to make him cum, bare your tum.”

“They’re,” Dave swallowed, “interesting rhymes.”

Klaus let out a musically little giggle and batted his long eyelashes theatrically. “All of my own creation, Davey. And anyway… what more do you expect? I’m just a little omega sex toy, there’s nothing up here in my head. I’m only good for one thing… pleasuring horny alphas.”

Dave frowned. “Omegas are worth so much more than that,” he said seriously. His mouth had gone very dry.

“Dave, it’s fine, I was joking.” Klaus said with a little shrug.

“No,” Dave said. “It’s not okay. I know what the law says, but general perceptions aren’t so fast to change. And it’s not fair that omegas are still treated like second class citizens. You shouldn’t feel like you have to act a part just because it’s what’s expected of you. You should be able to be exactly who you want to be.” Dave’s voice had risen and he was breathing deeply. The ironic weight of his words rang in his ears long after he’d finished talking.

“I completely agree,” Klaus said seriously, all frivolity stripped from his face. He looked vulnerable and open again. “I’m absolutely an advocate for omega rights. And it’s good to know that you’re an omega ally. Those rhymes though… I know it might seem like that’s me conforming to an expected stereotype, but actually, it’s the opposite. I hate being told that I shouldn’t embrace my sexuality because it negates years of omega rights protests. Acting like a flirt doesn’t mean I don’t believe omegas should have equal rights in society, whether they’re bonded or not. As far as I’m concerned, there’s a world of difference between choosing to act like a sex object and being forced into it. And I hate it when other omegas imply I’m being a bad omega, like there’s a right way and a wrong way. Fuck everyone who says acting like a stereotype propagates the wrong impression and makes it okay for alphas to treat us that way. That’s just victim blaming. If alphas act like fucking dicks, that’s on them, not us!” Klaus took a long, shuddering inhale.

“I’m sorry I said anything,” Dave said sincerely. “I’m sorry if I upset you or I said the wrong thing. I’m not always the best at talking about this kind of stuff. All I meant to say was… I think omegas get a raw deal and… and… and I’m on your side.”

Klaus smiled contrite. “I know, I’m sorry that got a bit heavy. And don’t worry, you didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just omega politics!” He blew out a frustrated breath.

Dave pulled a sympathetic face.

“Anyway,” Klaus said, gathering himself again, “where were we? Oh, yeah, slathering me in mud and making me cover up like a nun.” He grinned and did his funny little two eyed blink again. “Any other ideas about how to mask me up and make me the least fuckable guy in the country?” His voice was light and Dave knew he was only joking.

Dave cleared his throat. “Umm,” he started, “I thought maybe… you could wear my clothes?” He could feel his cheeks heating up again. “After I’ve had them on, I mean. That way my natural alpha smell might cover yours a bit. But you don’t have to,” He added hurriedly, “if you think that’s weird or gross or whatever. It was just an idea.”

Klaus shrugged. “Nope, I mean, that’s a perfectly logical idea. To other alphas, a faint alpha smell mixed with a fait omega smell will probably come out smelling like… well, probably like a bit of a funky smelling beta. But I can deal with that.”

Dave nodded. “I know it’s less than ideal, but I think that’s probably the best option. Other than that, I guess we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

Klaus paused, then said slowly. “So, basically, I’m not really safe here unless you help me. I have to stay on your good side, or else bad things could happen to me? That sounds like it’s come straight from victim testimony.”

Dave grimaced. “Yeah, I totally see where you’re coming from with that. All I can say is that… I’m not like that. I genuinely just want to help you. I know that sounds pretty pathetic and not very reassuring. But the bad things are genuine threats, and we’re in the unusual situation where I actually am the only one who can help. So hopefully you can learn to trust that I am actually an okay guy.” He gave an apologetic little shrug and looked over towards Klaus. “I’ve got your back, soldier. Whether you believe me or not.”

Klaus cocked his head to one side and appraised him seriously, but Dave thought he could smell something light and teasing in the air.

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we… soldier?” He said eventually.

“I’ll take that,” Dave said calmly, his face soft and open and honest. Klaus just looked back at him, his expression unreadable.

They had walked on a few more paces before Dave looked over at Klaus warily. “There is something else I should probably tell you.” He said slowly.

Klaus’ ears pricked up and he looked over at Dave quickly. Dave’s nostrils flared, expecting a wave of apprehension from Klaus, but instead all he caught the scent of was… hopeful. He faltered and looked over at Klaus, whose eyes were large and fixed on Dave’s face.

“There is an alpha in another unit,” he started and watched as Klaus’ face fell slightly before his eyes. “I don’t really know, but I have heard… rumours.”

Klaus frowned again. “What kind of rumours?”

“Well,” Dave said. “I heard that… when he was back home… he was arrested a couple of times for abusing omegas, but he got off on technicalities.”

Klaus swallowed and his upper lip twitched in suppressed anger. “Bastard,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” Dave intoned flatly. “But look,” he added quickly. “I don’t know if that’s true. It could just be an ugly rumour.”

“All rumours start with a grain of truth somewhere. Except when Allison’s involved.” Klaus grinned. “Man, I wish I could introduce people like that to Allison. She’d sort them right out!” He barked a laugh.

Dave fought the urge to ask who Allison was, and instead said, “I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Just in case, you know. Just to be extra careful around him. He’s big. And not just alpha big. I mean, he’s big big. He could probably snap you in two with his little finger.”

“And by that you actually mean he’d split me in half. Right up the middle.”

Dave grimaced. “Well, I was trying to put it delicately.”

“Yeah, I know you were. Thanks though, I’ll watch out for him. Maybe you can point him out to me?”

“Sure,” Dave agreed.

They walked a little further in silence. It wasn’t exactly the comfortable silence of earlier, but Dave at least felt content that he’d said what needed to be said and was happy they’d come up with a plan. After a few more steps, Klaus chimed up.

“It really doesn’t seem fair that omega biology makes us so much smaller and slighter alphas. I mean, why do we have to be as small as betas. We’re the ones expected to mate with alphas. Alphas who are biologically huge!” He turned towards Dave and looked up into his eyes. Dave looked down at him, really appreciating for the first time the size difference between them. “I mean, everything is just so big about alphas. Their height, their build, their personalities, their cocks…” Dave choked slightly and Klaus grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, I am into alpha cocks, but biologically they really are unnecessarily enormous.” Dave looked resolutely ahead, but dimly he was aware that Klaus’ gaze had travelled down to his crotch and the noticeable bulge in his uniform pants.

“The size thing is all very well when it’s an alpha you’re into,” Klaus continued, his gaze still lowered. “But when it’s a predatory alpha throwing his weight around, it’s a bit disconcerting. Omegas should at least have some sort of biological defence mechanism to protect ourselves from alphas like that. Like skunk stick gas, or retractable cat claws.”

Dave let out a loud laugh. He brought a hand up to cover him mouth.

Klaus watched him with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh my god,” Dave huffed out a chuckle. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I’m just picturing you with tufty ears and a tail, like a hybrid feline-man… or a cat-boy or something. That’s so wild.”

“Wow,” Klaus said under this breath. “Just wait ‘till you realise what that means, it’s going to blow your mind.”

“What?” Dave asked.

“Oh, never mind, ignore me” Klaus said hurriedly. But he was still grinning.

They turned a bend in the track and suddenly ahead of them they could see the camp site and others in their unit already hard at work.

“I guess it’s back to war now then,” Klaus said shakily.

“I guess so,” Dave replied slowly.

“I’ve got to say,” Klaus grinned, “I really can’t wait to wear that shirt tomorrow.” He nodded at Dave’s chest and furrowed his brows in a mock thoughtful look. “I just don’t think clothes feel right unless they’ve been worn in first by another man during a six hour hike through a tropical rainforest. Clothes are just missing something if they don’t come dirt encrusted and pre-stiffened in dried sweat.”

Dave grimaced and looked down at himself, noticing for the first time his pit stains and the dampness across his chest and back.

“Maybe I’ll give this a quick rinse first,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t you dare,” Klaus said firmly. “I need all the alpha musk I can get, remember. Come on, Dave,” he said biting his lip slowly and looking up – way up – into Dave’s face, “you have to mark me. Cover me in your scent.”

Dave swallowed hard and forced his breaths to come evenly. As he looked down into Klaus’ breathtakingly beautiful face, he thought there must be some sort of trick of the light as the sun set slowly beneath the horizon in a pool of blood red light, because he could have sworn he saw a faint blush spread across Klaus’ nose and cheeks, the flush working its way down his throat.

“O-okay,” Dave stammered.

Klaus just blinked slowly and raised his gaze from Dave’s lips to his eyes.

Maintaining this charade, Dave thought ruefully, is going to be much harder than I thought.

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Deck the Halls with Boughs of Silly

Summary: Take three ghosts and a teenage girl, who happen to be in one band. Have them organize a Christmas party, with decorations, gifts exchange, dancing, caroling, and friends. What you get is the best Christmas EVER, Phantoms-style. A @jatpdaily Secret Santa 2020 gift for @bisexualrhee

Also on AO3.

Merry Christmas Emilia!!! I hope these holidays are going to bring you lots of joy, and the next year is going to be much, much, muuuuch better than this one! Stand tall! Anyho-ho-ho, here’s your story! I hope you like it!

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *  ~ * ~ * 

At first they planned a small celebration purely for Luke. It’d been his family tradition and since he obviously couldn’t celebrate with his mother and father, the band decided to orchestrate a little Christmas party to take Luke’s mind off of things like another anniversary of him running out on his parents, or being - you know - a musician spirit. 

But it sort of snowballed from there and as usual things were never simple for long when Sunset Curve was around.

***

Julie went absolutely nuts with Christmas lights, turning the studio’s ceiling into a miniscule version of the Milky Way. Ray happened to wander inside as she was installing a wee galaxy under the roof, balancing carelessly on a tall ladder. 

After the mandatory lecture on safety Ray smiled slyly and asked if Julie intended to communicate with any missing colleagues from the Upside Down. 

Julie flashed him a panicked look before laughing stiffly. “What?” she asked.

“The Upside Down? Demogorgon? Joyce communicating through lights with Will?” Ray explained. “Come on, we’ve watched Stranger Things like two weeks ago!”

“Ah, Stranger Things,” his daughter chuckled nervously. 

“Stranger indeed,” someone murmured at the bottom of the ladder, for her ears only.

“So… that’s a lot of Christmas lights, huh?” Ray decided to change the subject.

“Yeah, for ambience, you know,” Julie busied herself with the cords. 

“And totally not for a-ny-thing supernatural,” a second voice from the other side of the ladder assured mockingly. Julie had to purse her lips to keep herself from laughing.

“Good. That’s good,’ Ray swung his arms, taking a few long strides towards the door. “Well, then, have an ambient evening!” He disappeared outside.

“Thanks, Dad!” Julie yelled after him, trying to be louder than Reggie, who uttered a cordial “Thanks, Ray!” upon the man’s departure.

“Reggie, Luke!” Julie chided. “You were supposed to hold that ladder, not chat with Dad!”

***

Reggie, to Luke’s disappointment, called dibs on dressing up as Santa Claus. Julie couldn’t imagine a better suited candidate than the happy-go-lucky bassist. Although - she chuckled to herself - it would be funny to see a possibly sleeveless Santa.

The self appointed Father Christmas poofed out and was back a few seconds later sporting a shiny red leather jacket and a matching cowboy hat with a white fluffy fringe around the broad rim. A false beard hung loosely around his jaw. Red cowboy boots completed the look. Now Julie was sure, a sleeveless Santa could never compare.

“You like?” Reggie asked as he swaggered proudly around the studio, showing off his outfit. 

Julie cleared her throat. “Cooooool,” she breathed, fighting off the silly grin that threatened to betray her real opinion. Miraculously, she kept a straight face, even though all she wanted to do was to collapse in a fit of giggles. 

“Your take on Santa is truly astounding.” Alex announced with poorly veiled sarcasm. “Also I’m starting to regret some of my earlier decisions,” he added under his breath.

Luke looked like he was torn between mocking Reggie and sulking, but he ultimately decided to move to the next point on their agenda. “Gifts! Gifts! Gifts!” he chanted.

“Darn right!” Reggie rubbed his hands. “Now that your Santa is here, it’s time for presents!”

He opened the huge sack filled with packages of various sizes. “Me first!” he announced, pulling out a set of envelopes. There was one for each of the band’s members. “Don’t mean to brag, but these are real pearls,” he winked.

“You got us real pe-… okay…” Alex ripped the envelope and pulled out a page with sheet music. He inspected the score, humming quietly. “Hey, it’s a country song!”

“Mine too!” Julie piped in from over her sheet.

“No way!” Luke showed his own page. He burst into laughter.

“This is going to get awkward pretty soon,” Alex sing-sang.

And as if he was a fortune teller, right on cue came Reggie’s squeal of delight. 

He’d just fished out a package with his name on it and pulled out a… page of sheet music. He skipped over the notes and lyrics. “OH-MY-GOSH!” he cried. “You wrote me a country song, Julie!”

“Julie?!” came a surprised shout from both Alex and Luke. “But-”

“Oh, here’s another one for me,” Santa dived into the bag only to pull out another envelope and… yes, another page tightly covered with notes and lyrics, definitely less reader-friendly than the first one. “Oh, Luuuuuke!” Reggie awed. 

“Luke?” Now Alex turned to the lead guitarist, eyes as large as saucers. 

“I wrote him a little bit of something, country style,” Luke smiled benevolently, “I had to reciprocate for his gift of the horse song, you know.”

“‘Bike Shack Polka’ sounds AWE-some!” Reggie pressed the page to his chest. “You guys are just... “ he wiped a tear, that might have been only a little bit imaginary, from his eye.

“Is there- “ Alex squeaked, then cleared his throat, “is there maybe another envelope?” he asked.

Reggie shot him a surprised look, but obediently rummaged in the sack and indeed found another envelope. He opened it and-

“You have got to be kidding me!” he shrieked. 

Alex grinned with satisfaction. “Not bad for the first time, even if I say so myself.”

“Not bad? Not bad?” Reggie was still staring at the page. “Alex, this has ‘our first country single’ material written all over it!” 

“Country single?” Now Julie and Luke looked up from their own pages. 

“Best Christmas E V E R!” Reggie announced, proudly presenting the three country songs he received. “With the ones I wrote for you we are close to having enough numbers for an entire album!” he squealed with joy.

The rest of the band looked at each other in quiet stupefaction.

“What have we done?” Alex mouthed.

“You’d better start learning how to fiddle really fast, Julie,” Luke whispered, raising a brow.

Handing out the rest of the gifts went relatively smoothly. Julie awed at the gorgeous notebook with a dahlia patterned cover. 

“For all our greatest hits,” Luke murmured into her ear. He already finished attaching the new strap to his six-string. It had a cute motif of little glittery ghosts that Julie had painstakingly applied, rhinestone after rhinestone. 

The gifts from Alex were - as one might suspect - thoughtful and endearing. For Julie he selected a pink hoodie, a smaller version of his own. He must have noticed her envious looks, but now the only thing he saw in her face was joy, as she sank inside the soft garment. Luke got a tank top with “MY name is LUKE'' printed in big letters, with a small font addition of “Really. Definitely NOT Trevor nor Bobby'' underneath.

Finally the drummer unwrapped the last gift: a baseball cap, one of those he wore so often, with a set of reindeer antlers at the sides. He immediately put it on and raced to Reggie.

“Let’s go, Santa!” he crouched allowing for the bassist to jump onto his back, piggyback style. Then he cantered around the studio, to Julie’s impromptu “Run Rudolph Run'' a cappella performance. 

They’d probably switch to gallop really soon if it wasn’t for Luke’s frantic gestures. “Reggie!” he shouted, meaningfully raising his brows.

“What? Oh, put me down!” Santa demanded. “I forgot there’s one more gift!” He disappeared outside following Luke’s lead.

The boys opened the door a little wider and carried a huge box inside. It took them both to lift it, although it didn’t seem heavy for them. It was the size that was giving them trouble. They put it in front of Alex and patted their backs.

“Go on,” they encouraged. “Open it.”

Alex untied the wide ribbon that held the box together and its sides fell down.

“Oh- Wow,” Alex’s voice broke and he blinked a few times. He reached out, as if grabbing something.

“What?” Julie pushed to the front. “It’s… empty?” She looked questioningly to the drummer, then to Luke and Reggie. “You gave him an empty box?”

The boys knitted their brows in confusion. Luke was faster to understand. “She can’t see him,” he noted.

“See who?” The girl was at a loss. “There’s no one there.”

“Oh, right!” Reggie slapped his forehead in sudden realization. “Hang on, I got this!”

He poofed out again, appearing a few seconds later with Julie’s dream box in his hands. She zeroed in on him, the scolding of the year on the tip of her tongue, but Reggie just waved a hand.

“Calm down, Jules, it’s only for the glitter,” he pulled out a bag of shiny particles. “Now look!” he instructed. He spilled a bit of the substance onto his palm and then blew it in the direction of the box. 

Julie watched obediently, as the glitter cloud traveled through the air until it reached the box. And then she saw him. There was another boy standing on the cardboard, squeezing Alex’s hand. When he noticed she finally saw him he bowed.

“Julie, meet William,” Luke introduced the newcomer. 

“Call me Willie,” the boy smiled a glittery smile. “Nice to finally meet the famous Julie. I’ve heard a lot about you!”

“You’re Willie!” Julie replied with a smile of her own. “And likewise.”

***

“I’m finally here!” Flynn called from the door. “Are you alo- oh, who’s the glitter boy? And where’s the rest of the guys?”

“One thing at a time, gurl,” Julie laughed. “This is Willie. He’s a friend of Alex’s.”

Flynn gave a little wave. “And the boys?” She looked around as if she could ever see them without music. 

“They’re here alright, just- Alex, wait, what are you doing with that?”

Poof! Now there was a second glittery silhouette next to Willie. And once Flynn focused on the shape, she could also hear the voice. 

“Hi, Flynn! Long time no see,” Alex quipped.

Poof! Now a third glitter-boy became visible, waving enthusiastically at the girls. 

“This is awesome,” Reggie said. “Best Christmas ever!”

“So now we’re only missing Luke,” Alex pointed to something that to Flynn looked like empty air. “But apparently he’s above covering himself with glitter,” he added sourly.

“Wait, I have an idea!” Julie announced. She untangled a string of Christmas lights from one of the shelves and proceeded to decorate the empty space, wrapping the cord around it until it formed a vague shape of a man. 

The rest of the group nodded appreciatively, though brilliant as they were, the lights didn’t solve all of the problems - the shape still had no visible face, hence no voice.

Julie tapped her lip thoughtfully. “At this point it’s either glitter, beauty powder or we start playing, which is gonna be exhausting.”

Flynn thought she heard the slightest sigh from Luke’s light form. Julie nodded and went for her purse. She produced a round box of pressed powder and handed it to Luke. He applied it gingerly and finally Flynn could see his face. Kind of. At least now she had an idea where his face was and what was his current expression. The final result - of a powdered face floating over a spiral of Christmas lights - was rather weird, if not disturbing.

“Happy now?” Alex asked. He looked as if he was having the time of his life. 

“Happy,” Luke grunted. He didn’t sound particularly happy. “Can we do something else now?” 

“Awww, had I known a Christmas tree was an option, I wouldn’t want to be Santa,” Reggie jested. 

***

The party was in full swing and once they started singing and dancing, the boys became easily visible to Flynn. No aids were required at this point, but Luke refused to take off the lights. He stuck a star to his beanie, completing the Christmas tree look. It didn’t stop him from showing off his dancing skills. Julie suspected it was to top Nick’s performance at the dance rehearsal, which was a rather silly thing to do. Yet she smiled to herself at the thought of Luke feeling he needed to compete for her attention.

“Luke, you make such a nice snake,” Flynn commented after a particularly showy worm move . She nudged Julie in the ribs, “He’s definitely a Slytheryn, right?”

All the ‘musical spirits’ gave her a blank stare.

“A sly-what?” Reggie was the first to talk.

“Awww,” Flynn continued, clearly not having read the room, “you and Alex are definitely Hufflepuff material.”

Alex frowned and turned to Julie. “Is she ghost shaming us? We don’t huffle and puff, we’re well-mannered ghosts.” 

He didn’t get his reply as both of the girls, and Willie as well, collapsed in a fit of laughter. 

***

When they finally got tired of dancing and prancing, they decided to give a few old classics a new spin.

“On the twelve day of Christmas my true love gave to meeee,” Reggie belted out, pointing to Alex.

“Twelve drummers drumming,” Alex carried on, pointing to Julie.

“Eleven dahlias blooming,” Julie nodded to Luke.

“Ten terrific gigs,” Luke rasped, nudging Flynn to go on.

“Nine whole brain cells,” Flynn tried to pat Willie on the shoulder. Her hand went through glitter, but he got the message.

“Eight wheels a-skateboard,” he sang in a surprisingly warm tenor. He turned to Reggie closing the circle.

“Seven country a-songs,” the bassist wiggled his eyebrows at Luke, changing the order

“Six best friends forever,” the guitarist sang without missing a beat.

“Five dirty candies,” Alex twirled gracefully, eliciting a bout of laughter.

“Four cute ghosts,” Flynn wrinkled her nose.

“Three deadly hotdogs,” Willie chuckled.

“Two awesome girlfriends,” Julie squeezed her friend’s hand. 

“And a Luuuuke as a Christmasy treeeeeeee!” The said Luke bellowed, in an opera worthy baritone.

They all sank to the ground and laughed, laughed, laughed until their tummies hurt and tears appeared in their eyes.

Alex moved closer to Willie, his back against the couch. He looked around to his company. His friends. His family. Their family.

That’s what it was. Loud. Mismatched. Messy. Hardened by life and death. A little bit silly, a little bit damaged. Supernatural at places, magical to the core. It was theirs and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

 * ~ * ~ * ~ *  ~ * ~ * ~ *

Many thanks to @goblin-alchemist for betareading and her advice!!!

[marithlizard]

Ace Attorney: Rise From the Ashes (part 1)

A couple of people expressed interest in a writeup as I play through the game, so I thought I’d give quasi-liveblogging a try.   It might have come out to be too detailed - let me know if the result is amusing enough to go through the next part.  

(I knew this already, but wow liveblogging is a lot of work.   And it must take twice as much effort to do this for a show and to include screencaps.)

(I’ve tried three times now to put proper line breaks/spacing in, and they’re just not displaying, at least on desktop. I’m sorry.)

A brief,  stylized opening designed not to give away much, except that a creepy-looking doll is involved.

 Two months?  Phoenix, you haven't taken a single client since Maya left?    a) are you depressed, and b) how are you paying rent on the office?

Ookay, you're not going to tell us why you've been moping around. I don't think it's that you have a crush on Maya.  Are you just not able to function without a partner?   That's not great for your ability to survive, but I can sympathize.  

 New perky assistant, right on cue.  (A partner who isn't a young girl would be a nice change now and then. (But not Larry.  Anyone but Larry. In fact, I take it back, this girl with the pink sunglasses will do just fine.))

Oof,  Phoenix still not being able to say out loud that Mia's dead.

In the first two minutes pink-glasses girl has asserted that he's his female boss, the coffee boy, and 'better than nothing'.   Aha!  The problem with all the clients he turned down was that they didn't insult him enough.

Kid, you can't be more than sixteen, and you have silly face buttons  on your lab coat.  You are about as much a scientific investigator as Photography Girl last episode was a journalist.   ...But apparently you have a future job lined up in forensics, so you're more organized than she was.  And this world certainly could use more competent crime scene analysis.  

"I promised her I'd bring Mia Fey".  Huh.  Is Mia's murder not well-known to the public,  then, even though the Edgeworth case apparently got famous enough to earn Phoenix a bit of a reputation?

A murder charge with an eyewitness, and an assistant who "kind of hates" her sister the defendant.  Sounds hopeless, let's do it! Off to the Detention Center. 

...Did we just overhear the defendant threatening their terrified guard with a pay freeze?  Is she their boss? And if she's someone that high up, why doesn't she already have a better defense attorney?

I like Lana Skye's character design. She looks as though she should be starring in a Takurazuka revue show, swearing eternal star-crossed love to a princess.  

She insists she did it.  By genre convention we know that can't be the case; my first assumption is that she's being forced to cover for someone, blackmailed  or coerced  by someone higher up in the system.   But it would certainly be interesting if it  turned out she was covering for Ema.  

Must....resist...plotbunnies...

Oookay.  A prosecutor should certainly know ways to commit murder without getting caught, and this sounds like the opposite of those ways.    WHY does she claim she did this?  You're not even going to ask her, are you?  *headdesk*

Ema:  "Please ignore that totally gay statement by my sister,  because I certainly plan to!"

Lana: "No don't help me, go away go away go away go away go awa-oh fine."

Hmmm.  From Ema's description of the behavior change,  Lana has been being blackmailed or coerced for a long time now.

Time to go investigate the underground parking garage.

Attorneys aren't supposed to examine crime scenes, and defense attorneys aren't entitled to a copy of the police investigation reports.  What does a "normal" defense attorney in this world do for their clients then?  Always assume a loss and try to negotiate a plea bargain?  I wonder if we'll ever get to see one in action.

It's...a cop with a cowboy fetish?  Do police not have dress codes here?  Maybe they're waived above a certain level,  and some people take pride in cultivating a unique style to show off that they can.  It would explain Edgeworth.  

You are dramatically pretending to shave in front of us.  Also you just called Ema a baby cow.  Although you know her and seem sympathetic - I guess Lana brought her little sister to the office sometimes?  Not sure what I think of you, Jake Marshall.

I am revising my stance. Being Phoenix's partner on a case requires precise and narrow qualifications.  Specifically, just enough sense to stop him from doing something breathtakingly stupid, but not enough sense to take the badge firmly away from him and do the job themselves.   Ema fits the bill perfectly.

Ooh, new mechanic!  And an ID card number for a Bruce Goodman who dresses like a white-hat agent in Spy vs Spy. (I was trained on games that would require you to write that number down and remember it later, but AA will certainly be more forgiving.)  

Using the new mechanic on Phoenix's attorney badge,  I deduce that at some point this game it will be stolen.  

It doesn't explain Lana's supposed actions, but that red sports car does kind of scream "My owner is a jerk, stuff a body in my trunk."   Instead of a chalk outline, they seem to have outlined the hanging body with string?  Is that actually a technique, and how do they get the rope to stay put in precise outline?

And the cowboy gives them a hint.  So he's  on their side but constrained by rules?

Lady put the boobs away.  Why are you selling sushi in a negligee under a fur coat, at a crime scene?  And why would anyone trust food from someone whose nickname is "the Cough-Up Queen"?

Angel Starr, dominatrix lunch lady.   It says something that this is not the weirdest witness in an AA game so far.

She hates prosecutors, and therefore especially Lana. Not a trustworthy witness. But it's probably no fun to cater for a group of (relatively) wealthy and powerful people you despise.   Especially if they're smugly giving awards to each other as they eat lunches.  (Eeeevil lunches.  She probably coughs on them.)

"The rhythmic beat of Lana Skye's knife"...  very poetic, but didn't Lana say the victim was stabbed only once?

We can't get back to the car, phooey, so up to the prosecutor's office we go.

Pink...everywhere...no question whose office this is, even if one of his outfits wasn't framed on the wall.  (why do you frame an outfit?)     I see a very ugly trophy on the sofa, so he's the one who won the award.

Ema:  "this is the kind of room that just screams 'I can do the job'. Actually it screams 'I don't need to pretend to be heterosexual', but the two aren't unconnected.    

Is it just me or is that trophy broken off at the top?

Edgeworth did you just roll with being insulted and make a joke about it?   I'm so proud of you, you've clearly relaxed since your murder trial!

BWAHAHA of course it was Edgeworth's car.

Wendy the security guard from the Steel Samurai case is sending Edgeworth expensive presents??   a) that's both funny and a little sad,  b) how can she afford it,  and c)  he keeps and displays them which is very courteous.

WAIT did you - did this game just heavily suggest Gumshoe hangs out in the office a lot?  Twice, once when you look at the shelves and again when you look at the desk?  I don't ship it, but this is the point where I start to see why people do.

Awwww he's embarrassed about the trophy, that's cute.    So he's the one who "devours the evillest lunches of all",  hmm?   I wouldn't have thought the Cough-Up Queen's weird not-even-fresh lunches would appeal to Edgeworth's refined tastes.

Ema actually has a bit of a crush, from the way she's rhapsodizing about Edgeworth sleeping on the sofa.  d'awww.   And I definitely want to know the story behind the outfit.  Made by his mom and too precious to wear?

Edgeworth, no one thinks you did it.   Sheesh.  He certainly doesn't sound happy about having to prosecute Lana,  even though he believes she's guilty.  His car, his knife... it almost seems like this is a plot aimed at him, or perhaps a plot against Lana with a healthy dose of fuck-you-too-Edgeworth to it.

Huh.  Maybe it *is* aimed at him. I've been assuming all this time from his behavior on the stand that Edgeworth has indeed been messing with evidence to convict obviously innocent people, and also assuming that it's common practice in this corrupt justice system. (Much as it is in Japan and in the US).  But the way he's talking about rumors right now, it sounds more like he's being slandered.  And he thinks the award he was given was out of mockery.  Ouch.

So yes, the trophy is broken.   (In RWBY, you assume everything is a gun;  in AA, you assume everything is a murder weapon.  It probably broke when it was used to hit someone over the head.)

Evidence transferal day, huh?  Was the murder timed to draw attention away from a case being closed?    And Edgeworth parked his car only three minutes before Goodman was stabbed  and thrown into its trunk?    No way.  He was there for the murder, or more likely that's not when the murder happened.   (Is he being coerced like Lana?  I don't think so, but it's possible.)

Enter an idiot mailman with a bandaged hand.  And exit, with sniveling. What was that about?

And a hint to go investigate at the police station.  Is Edgeworth being friendly, attempting to signal something, or merely aware that the most efficient way to get rid of Phoenix is to give him a clue to chase?

The police department entrance, with some sort of plywood jester figure in front of it.  We're offhandedly informed that it took 30 minutes to get there from Edgeworth's office, which means that will be important later.

This is the creepy doll from the intro! It's clearly meant to be a mascot. Was it made by the sniveling mailman?  There's  a certain resemblance...

No, I should've guessed that Gumshoe made it.   I mean ... mechanically it's pretty clever for someone who's not a craftsman or engineer?  Moving articulated limbs and all.  It's just the aesthetics and design he shouldn't have been allowed anywhere  near.

Yes, yes it is odd that only the top-ranked people are being allowed to work on the case. Are they all in on it?    A patrolman in charge of the crime scene instead of a detective - that suggests Marshall is part of the conspiracy.  I'm thinking the dominatrix lunch lady is too.

Gumshoe is so happy about the prosecutor's award - Edgeworth probably didn't have the heart to say that for him it's a mockery.  Daww.  (Also there's something endearingly cheerful about  his hopping-caterpillar eyebrows.)   He's also being much more helpful than his superiors would want, probably just because he thinks of Phoenix as an ally in general now.  

Back to the parking lot, with a letter of introduction in hand this time.

I genuinely can't tell if the lunch lady is a sex worker, if she actually has multiple boyfriends, or if that's code for her professional contacts in whatever she's really doing here.   (And that's an interesting cultural bit, isn't it - any of those options seem possible, and I'm not expecting any of the characters to question her competence or morality because of it, not even in court.   If this was a US-made game my expectations would be...different.)

"Good men always die young"...I see what you did there, Marshall.    

Autopsy report confirms one stab wound.  Lana and the victim worked together on "a case a few years back", ding ding ding.   Someone didn't want the evidence for that case transferred. Or looked at. 

 Marshall used to be a detective but got demoted?  And he's lying about why he was assigned to the crime scene, and telling us Gumshoe is off the case because he's friends with Edgeworth.  The police chief, whoever he is, is now at the top of my suspect list.

 Happily, the game will let me do dumbass things like show off Goodman's ID card without consequences.  Marshall seems very uninterested in it and why it was found so far from the spot of the murder, which I take to mean "we have our official narrative, don't go messing it up with facts or evidence." 

Finally we can examine the car!  First up, Lana's cellphone.  The whole business about hitting redial and somehow not knowing that Ema's phone rang was weird.  Phoenix’s lie couldn't possibly have fooled Marshall, who is bizarrely claiming there's no way to know who the last call was made to.  It's an odd thing to conceal, even given the “no facts please we have our narrative” stance.  Maybe he's trying to protect Ema somehow?) 

 Marshall said the rumors about Edgeworth came from Lana.  And we have a note found  in the trunk:  6-7S 12/2, on a piece of Goodman's stationery.  

 Er, yeah, Ema, why didn't you mention your sister called you 3 minutes after the claimed murder time?  If Lana hung up right away that's hardly incriminating for either of you.

 End of Day One!  We are, as usual, completely unprepared for tomorrow morning's trial.

[atopearth]

Final Fantasy VII Remake Part 1 - Avalanche, Flower Girl & Childhood Friend (CH 1-8)

The long awaited remake!! Jessie is sooo pretty btw, I love it! I’ve always liked Jessie since the original because of how nice she was to Cloud, so it’s nice to see that they put so much effort into her looks. Biggs looks pretty cool too, but he’s such a silly guy haha. Most of the first chapter was pretty much like the demo so nothing much to say about it besides that I like the Japanese dub much more than the English haha. Btw, I’m playing on normal mode~ Barret is so aggressive and a bit annoying now that you can hear him though LOL. I have to say though, the camera is soo annoying in this game lol, it frustrates me so much. And the boss in the reactor has so much life, it was a tiring battle lol. Otherwise, great nostalgia! I still remember so well in the original when Jessie gets her leg stuck and you have to free her~ In the original, you kinda had to go to her to yourself, whereas in this remake, they force you into the scene of freeing her which is good!! Because lmao, I legit didn’t realise she was stuck in the original game and totally ignored her and went back up the elevator, and what happened?! I was stuck and couldn’t get out of the reactor without her, and I couldn’t go back to save her because it didn’t let me backtrack!! So yes, nice memories, I felt so bad though, I legit left her there to die LOL. Anyway, despite Heidegger and them contributing to the destruction of the sector, it is true that it was because of Avalanche’s actions that made all these people die or get injured, since Heidegger probably wants to pin on them how much of a terrorist they are to the masses.

Sephiroth appearing is so awkward btw, but I think what irks me is that the menacing part of him isn’t shown very well. Doesn’t help that Those Chosen By the Planet (what I think to be Sephiroth’s theme) doesn’t have the same threatening feel to it imo. Aww I felt like the train scene with Barret shooing off the Shinra people was done more seriously than the original, and I feel like it also shows how rash and sometimes naive the Avalanche group is. I felt like the scene was funnier in the original because Barret was being aggressive and scared them away lol. Anyway, not sure what those things flying around Aerith are (dementorssss!), but nice flower lol. I found it sooo cuteee how Cloud so naturally gave the flower to Tifa though, like dang, my heart swooned! Tifa is so beautiful btw~ Interesting that she rented a room for Cloud, guess it was unnecessary in the original since you’re running around everywhere already, whereas in the remake, Cloud is going to be earning money joining the neighbourhood watch (killing monsters) and doing odd jobs haha. Honestly though, seeing Barret dote on Marlene was so sweet, I always found it heartwarming how much he loved and cherished her. Lmao when she ran away from Cloud since he was a “stranger” lol. Nice to see all these different materia though, looks like it’ll be fun to try them!

Okay, the side quests were pretty useless but I guess it helped to gain experience and get me used to the combat system a bit more. Honestly though, playing as Tifa is much more fun than Cloud haha. Doesn’t help that Tifa is such a cute beauty~ Am I the only weirdo taking non-stop screenshots of her because she looks so good in every angle? LOL. When Tifa asked what kind of clothing suits her best, I wasn’t really sure, but I guess I would like to see something mature haha. I can see why Tifa would have doubts about what Avalanche is doing though. I mean, sure she agrees with their ideals and goals, but the way they’re doing it isn’t exactly the “best” way to do it since it involves a lot of casualties. So, I’m kinda glad that Cloud kinda advised her in his own way that she should really follow her heart and to not do it if she isn’t able to. Oh and that darts game at Seventh Heaven? Yeah, I sucked at it LOL. Anyway! Jessie feeling bad about the bomb she made causing such unprecedented destruction on the city is understandable, so going to grab a weaker reagent is something she’d do. Nice that she got Cloud to come along with her, but it was also pretty cute that Biggs and Wedge kinda knew what she was up to. Didn’t think about the idea of the Avalanche members having families, so knowing that Jessie seems to have a warm family that would turn on the light every night waiting for her to come home is kinda sweet yet saddening. On the other hand, that motorcycle chase lmao, I was so terrible at it, I legit nearly died hahaaha. Roche was a crazy guy man, it felt so difficult to catch up to him and deal some damage lol. Like how does he do all these crazy stuff with the motorcycle?! Honestly, it makes me think of a motorcycle version of SSX (that snowboarding game where you do tricks) because, I’m surprised he and his bike are intact lol.  Although, in a sense, it did seem easier than the original game though, I mean, I used to legit miss the targets reallyyyyyy badly in the original hahahah. But yeah, it was nice to have that mini game I guess, I just didn’t expect it right now lol. BUT, the highlight of the motorcycle chase here was definitely Jessie hugging Cloud from behind on the motorcycle and feeling so comfortable and safe with him around. I honestly felt it, but then again, who wouldn’t feel safe with Cloud?! He’s so reliable and cool!

Honestly, I never would have thought Jessie would be an actress at the Gold Saucer! That’s an interesting back story. Kinda saddening though, that when she finally got a starring role, her dad collapsed in a Mako storage (since he was a maintenance supervisor for Shinra) for half a day and got Mako poisoning, so now he’s in a comatose state. I guess it’s understandable how one thing led to another for Jessie to join Avalanche, but I feel devastated for the mother. It’s a tough life but there’s still the hope and happiness of seeing Jessie return home when she can, but…that’s not going to happen forever.. Well, well, that diversion Cloud had to do alongside Biggs and Wedge was not fun! But it was cool to see Ifrit haha. Honestly think the highlight was seeing Cloud warm up to Biggs and Wedge after this little mission, not only did he get to see that Wedge is willing to put his life on the line for Cloud even though they just hired him for these missions, he also got to see how passionate they are about their reasons for being in Avalanche. They really should count themselves lucky that another sub group of Avalanche was there to bail them out though! Anyway, Cloud smiling was so cute. Lmao when Wedge called Cloud “aniki” after the mission hahahah, it’s so adorable. I love how Cloud tells Wedge not to call him that every time he does it hahaha. And it was so cuteee when Cloud quietly said he hopes Jessie’s dad will get better soon, he cares!! It’s so sweet! 

Oh, btw LOL at the random grandma that noticed all the commotion from Cloud/Avalanche and thought it was Wutai attacking Shinra again, so she said she’d join in since she used to fight against them when she was young loll, chill grandma!! It’s quite cute how Biggs and Wedge can tell that Jessie is interested in Cloud, so sweet how they look out for Cloud instead and say she’s not serious though hahaha. Omggg, Jessie giving him a hug as extra payment for helping out on the mission was so cuteeee, I love her. She’s so forward and honest, but so cuteee. I loved how she said she’d make pizza for him. Biggs overthinking was really adorable, but Cloud telling him to prioritise resting up for tomorrow was nice to see. He has such a soft spot for them all now, it’s so heartwarming. It was so considerate and kind of Cloud to offer to listen to Tifa’s worries, I loved how casually he said it.

No idea what those spectres are, but OMG!! CLOUD PRINCESS CARRYING JESSIE?! Yes, my heart squealed🥺🥺🥺 That Shinra Middle Manager guy on the train is so passionate and loyal to them, it’s pretty admirable tbh. He’s obviously scared of Barret but he’s unafraid to voice his opinions and views to him, Shinra sure has passionate workers. I loved the jumping out of the train part!! Cloud held Tifa close and protected her🥰 On the other hand, I really didn’t need the corny part where the Shinra Middle Manager was shocked that Barret and them would protect the others on the train though, I think if we just see him being impressed and kinda acknowledging them, it would have been fine lol. Anyway, is it just me or are the normal monsters harder than the bosses?! Like seriously lol! Or maybe I’m just too reckless tbh because I legit just roll around and attack hahahah. Yes, that’s how I roll. Oh btw, I forgot to say, but I’m kinda sad that we never got to go downstairs at Seventh Heaven!! That’s like my favourite part! I loved the interactions between everyone at Avalanche there, oh well I guess… We kinda got the interactions through Jessie’s story instead I guess.

Going through Sector 5 was legit tedious lol, but it was cool to see holograms of the President and Heidegger, and the boss!! I’m not sure if I really weakened the boss by taking away the right stuff, but I just kinda took all the big bombs and some programming cores and it was relatively easy. Btw cowboy Tifa is adorableee! Aerith and Cloud reuniting at the church and squashing his flowers wasn’t as magical as it felt in the original imo (even though it was HD T_T). And I also feel like Aerith was more cooler in the original in my memory haha. Reno definitely looks better as a bunch of pixels than in HD LOL, I’m sorry Reno, you’re my favourite boy ever in FFVII but I hate his close up look here hahaha. Although I think it’s mainly because his open shirt look is very...ugly LOL. Make him cool not tacky! The Turks theme wasn’t as clicky sounding(?) as well so I think it kinda lost how cool the soundtrack was imo, but oh well~ And dang, I legit found the battle so difficult with him hahahah, I probably should have used more magic etc to deal with him but far out, his lightning attacks lol. I’m kinda sad they kicked out rolling the barrels to save Aerith from the Shinra soldiers though, I used to just let Aerith fight them, and I think it would have been cool if they let Aerith fight them, since it kinda showed that even though Aerith is physically weak, she’s still got a lot of guts and resolve to fight against people stronger than her imo. Instead, we get that stupid chandelier thing and the hand bars that had superrr clunky controls, it wasn’t fun at all! 

Cloud and Aerith talking and bonding throughout their little trip on the rooftops to escape was cute, I love how she answered that the Turks might have been after her because she would be a great SOLDIER candidate (since the work Turks does includes scouting for SOLDIER) hahaha. The princess carry Cloud did to catch Aerith when she fell was cute, but it was done so purposefully that I couldn’t like it as much as I wanted, Jessie’s one was much more natural and sweet. But it’s Aerith so I’ll take it, because dang is it beautiful~~ I wish they showed how Aerith was trying really hard to catch up to Cloud and was like out of breath by the time they got to the sector lol, I found that cute in the original. Anyway, I also miss Aerith using her staff to smack monsters, the sound was so iconic lmao. I guess it’s understandable that they changed her skillset to be shooting magic out of her staff but still🥺 Rude on the other hand looks pretty cool! I wonder if they’ll mention how he likes Tifa and they’ll add it into the battles so that he won’t attack her hahaha. Oh yeah, forgot to mention it, but did Cloud see Aerith die in those visions he had? Not sure if I’m into how it’s all going right now, but hmm kinda weird.

Elmyra doesn’t look as gentle as she did in the original, kinda sad~~ But I still think it’s hilarious how pushy Aerith is and how much she does things at her own pace lol. I hope we get to do the tiptoe thing at night like in the original where Cloud tries to run off in the middle of the night when she forces him to stay at her house for the night haahha. Shiva was pretty easy! I’m proud of myself hehe! Legit just Fira her to death until I could summon etc hahaha. Not sure how I feel about that intern being able to make summon materia though, I always felt like summons were spirits of nature that you kinda make a contract with, so artificially creating them feels weird. I honestly feel like more effort was put into Tifa than Aerith when it comes to the expressions and their faces imo. I always imagined Aerith to look very energetic, happy and kind, but in a lot of the scenes, her face looks very stern and you can’t see the kindness in her eyes, whereas with Tifa, there’s lots of details in every expression she makes. Sigh, it’s pretty saddening since Aerith is my favourite girl… Btw lmao at the Leaf House drawings of the cactuar, tonberry, chocobo and moogle hahaha, so cute but ugly lmaoo. Hahahaha there’s such a thing as fat Chocobo candy🤣🤣🤣 Moggie is weirdddd looking lol, did not expect that. Whack-a-box was a pretty boring game tbh, Gunners Gauntlet in FFX-2 is way better imo. Maybe there might be more stages later? I do appreciate how easy it was to get 30,000 points though haha, I’m still salty over the jump rope in FFIX lmao, no way could I ever do more than 50 of those jumps hahaha. Okay, don’t judge me, but I farmed moogle medals with the game by leaving it on while I played other games on my phone lmao. Man, those side quests were difficult to do with Aerith, I really hate her skillset right now lolll. I guess that’s normal though? Since, in the original, I found this part really difficult at times because she was so weak lmaoo. The fight with Rude was much easier than with Reno though! Maybe it’s because Aerith was there just to heal me hahaha. Anyway, I really like how careful and protective Rude and Reno are with Aerith. I feel like you can feel that a lot of it is related to their work as the Turks, but at the same time, they honestly feel that Aerith should take care of herself better by not running around so much lol. Btw lmao at Cloud carrying that flower basket hahaha. When Aerith was talking to the flowers and saying that they don’t respond to her no matter how much she talks to them, I found it really cute that before they left, Cloud asked to the flowers to respond to her some time since she’s so sincere haha. Cloud is such a big softie, it’s adorable. Just saying, but Aerith running up the stairs to clean the guest room for Cloud was so cute, I’m dying. Cloud’s mum looks pretty! Lmao, the tiptoeing out of the house is actually hilarious. I just took one step and hit a bucket and it made the loudest noise ever hahahaah, of course Aerith could hear! Lmao, I failed twice and they removed the buckets so you don’t need to dodge anything hahahha. I’m sorry I suck okay?! Although I always found it hilarious in the original that you can actually see Aerith jump out of bed and run super fast to push you back into your room hahaha.  I’ve always loved how Aerith pops out and surprises Cloud that she noticed him leaving without her. Does Cloud’s tears mean subconsciously he remembers her death? Is this FFVII 2.0? A sequel? Are we reliving FFVII alternate universe so we can save Aerith this time?

Overall, the remake has been relatively fun so far. The camera is rather clunky at times but it’s okay I guess. The story is pretty linear and won’t let me walk around and explore unless it wants me to though, I swear that warning sign is so obnoxious I want to punch it! So yeah, it can be rather frustrating when I’m looking for treasure chests, like I’m constantly being called out for going to the wrong way hahaha. Let me live my life, guys! Everything looks great and I really enjoyed the extra bits with Jessie tbh, I think that was my highlight for these 8 chapters haha. I hope everything will continue to be as beautiful and interesting. I’m not a fan of the soundtrack though, it feels a little too electric? Techno? I don’t know how to describe it but it feels weird haha. Also weird to see/hear different theme songs and stuff at vending machines, because it just..doesn’t suit the atmosphere lol, anyway I’m just picky, it’s still cool. I really like Jessie’s Theme though!

But yeah, I really loved that the remake added the part where they go to back to Jessie’s home etc. I found it really sweet and comforting to see that Jessie had a family, and that Biggs and Wedge got along with her mother so well. I think the extra bonding and interactions between Avalanche and Cloud will really make the lost of them that more painful and dramatic. I think some people think Jessie seems too “thirsty”, but I think she’s great because of how forward she is, and how subtle but also honest she is about her feelings. She’s never completely direct about it, but she’s obviously attracted to Cloud and I think it’s really cute, mainly because she can see how cold he may be on the surface, but also how soft he is on the inside. I think my favourite moment with her was when she hugged Cloud on the motorbike so comfortably, it honestly felt like (from her perspective) that she found someone she could really rely on and believe in when she’s in trouble and I thought that was really heartwarming. Otherwise, wow, the shipping with Cloud and the girls is SO STRONG, I’m starting to think it’s a visual novel where I can pick the girl I like lmao. Honestly though, you can tell how much it’s catering to older fans who love the girls. The fanservice is blatant! But it makes for great screenshots so yay~! But seriously, the dementors and Sephiroth appear too much, it’s frustrating, especially the ghosts/spectres.

[coloursflyaway]

Wherever You Are Tonight

Pairing: Sami Zayn/ Kevin Owens

Rating: T

Words: 1.700

A few weeks (?) I saw the wonderful @ilovesamizayn asking for Zowens fluff for her birthday, and since the world desperately needs more fluff right now, I thought why not combine those two things? So happy birthday (probably either too early or too late, I’m so sorry!), I hope you like it, and thank you still for having a blog so lovely I cannot stop thinking about these dorks ♥ Also if you have an AO3 handle, let me know

This is a sequel to Tethered And Chained. If you prefer AO3, just click here.

Their schedules don’t give them more than one night together. It’s not enough, not after more than a decade of wanting this, but then again, Sami knows that, no matter how much time they could have had, it never would have been.

The door falls shut behind him and it takes but a second until Sami has his finger on the dial button, watching the screen of his phone flicker to life as it tries to establish a connection. Watching it doesn’t help anything, won’t make Kevin pick up more quickly and yet Sami cannot look away. It rings once, twice and Sami is about to try and steel himself for the possibility that Kevin won’t be able to answer, wondering just when he has become quite this desperate (the answer is the second he heard Kevin say If you had been there, I could have belonged anywhere, he knows it as well as he knows the back of his hand, Kevin’s hand), but then the line clicks. It might be the most beautiful sound he has heard all day, at least for a moment.

“Hey”, Kevin’s voice greets him as soon as Sami presses the phone to his ear, not as warm through the tiny speaker as it sounded muttered against Sami’s temple, the sun rising in front of them, but enough to make him smile. Within his chest, his heart breaks open, floods him with love. “Hi”, he responds, almost breathless, holds the phone even closer to his ear and pretends that he can hear Kevin breathing. “How was your day?”

For some reason, the question makes Kevin bark out a laugh, nothing cheerful about the sound, and Sami waits for an explanation as he kicks off his shoes, shrugs off his jacket. “Crap”, Kevin finally elaborates, his voice as gruff as his laughter; Sami wishes he could pull him closer and yet can’t do anything but listen. “But I’m sure you don’t want to hear about me fighting a jackass and his megalomaniac tendencies.” “I’d love to, actually.”

This time, when Kevin chuckles, there is some warmth to the sound, enough for Sami to relax slightly, knowing that whatever happened wasn’t quite that bad. That, at the very least, Kevin will get through it. “That’s too bad, because I really don’t want to talk about it”, Kevin answers, and there is still a hint of amusement woven into the words, a trace of affection. “It’s bad enough that I have to waste my time with it, I really don’t have to waste yours too.” It wouldn’t be a waste of time, not if Kevin was the one who tells the story; the words are on the tip of Sami’s tongue, ready to be flung into the air, but instead he swallows them back down. If he asked for it, Kevin would explain everything, even if it took the whole night, and at some time, Sami will make Kevin tell him all he missed, but not right now.

“My day was fine”, Sami says instead, lays down onto the bed without bothering to take off his clothes, eyes slipping shut easily. “Just in case you were wondering.” Instead of an answer, Kevin makes a sound, half a huff that still sounds amused, and with his eyes closed, Sami can almost pretend he’s next to him. Maybe it’s that what keeps him talking. “Missed you, though.”

They haven’t really spoken much about it, this new thing between them, even if Sami cannot quite pinpoint why. Maybe because it’s harder when he can’t see Kevin’s face, maybe because even if knowing Kevin loves him fixes the world around, it doesn’t fix everything between them. And maybe that is why Sami’s breath catches in his throat for a moment, at least until Kevin hums, his voice softer than it has been ever since he picked up. “You’ve gone far longer without seeing me before”, Kevin points out and Sami can’t help but smile, because Kevin sounds warm and affectionate and a little bit like home. “I know”, he replies, and doesn’t even try to keep the fondness out of his voice. “I still missed you.”

There’s no answer for a moment, just the sound of Kevin breathing, and Sami knows it’s silly, but it’s impossible not to smile, to imagine Kevin tongue-tied, a hint of pink dusted across his cheeks. And it spurs him on, just like a chance to tease Kevin always has. “You know, I think Shinsuke is noticing something is different. Cesaro, too”, he tells the other with a hint of mischief clinging to his voice. “It’s because I can’t put my phone down for more than a few minutes at a time, I think. I keep checking if you have texted me or something. At some point I’ll have to tell them about my – my…”

And suddenly it goes from teasing to something else entirely, another thing they haven’t talked about, haven’t discussed, another thing Sami might have been thinking about. Even if this is not how he wanted to try and find a steady ground for their relationship, it’s too late now, so he just barges on like he usually does, ignoring the tightness in his throat. “I don’t even know what to call you”, he says, words blending together because of the speed he speaks them with. “Boyfriend, that’s not the right thing, surely we skipped past that by several miles. Partner, that sounds too much like cowboy shit, I don’t think either of us is into that. Lover, now that’s just silly – “ “Sami.”

It’s just a word, just his name, and yet it stops Sami dead in his tracks, lips still parted, tongue poised to continue talking. Kevin sounds amused and there is love in his voice, a sense of wonder that Sami can’t quite place, but both adores and loathes at the same time. But nonetheless, his voice is calm and steady and it’s enough to ground Sami, wipe away the nervousness within a heartbeat, because if Kevin doesn’t care about it, then he doesn’t have to, either. “Yeah”, he breathes out after a moment, and again, it’s like the other is right there with him. “You’re right, of course you are. Kevin sounds just fine to me.” The name tastes as familiar on his lips as it tastes sweet, rolls of his tongue with practiced ease, and Kevin chuckles in whatever town he is, brings another smile to Sami’s lips. “My Kevin. Yeah, I like the sound of that. It sounds just right.”

There is another pause, this time not because Sami doesn’t know what to say, but because he doesn’t want to speak, because for once, he’d rather listen. And it takes a bit of time for Kevin to reply; when he does, the words come slowly, as if it was hard for him to concentrate. “That’s… yes, that sounds good.” Again, there is silence, but this time it’s the blissful kind, the kind Sami could live in for the rest of his days, because he shares it with Kevin. He turns to his side, phone still pressed close to his ear, and just listens to Kevin breathe.

“By the way”, Kevin interrupts after a few, short moments, long before Sami has had his fill, “I’ve had a look at the touring schedules yesterday and… I mean, it might not be the easiest thing to do, but I think there’s a few dates where we’re close enough that we could. Meet up. Somewhere in the middle. If you wanted to.” Something flutters in Sami’s chest, happy and excited, even if it’s the silliest question he has ever been asked; there is nothing he could say but yes. “Sounds great”, he tells Kevin, his lips stretching into a smile he knows must be heard even over the phone. “And pretty romantic, if you ask me. Also, like something Shinsuke will definitely notice.”

A certain kind of nervousness mingles with the giddiness that shines bright in his chest, because this will be different, new. Probably absolutely wonderful. And yet, an entire night, an entire morning with Kevin in a hotel room that belongs only to them, the confession he’ll have to make, because he isn’t only trying to rile Kevin up, his friends will definitely notice it if he drives off after a show in the wrong direction. It’s the best kind of anxiety, but anxiety, nonetheless.

“Just tell him, then”, Kevin decides and if Sami didn’t know better, he’d say he sounds nervous too. “Shouldn’t be a secret, right?” “Right.” It takes a moment too long until he says the word, but he thinks that Kevin will understand. “I’ll just tell them that I’m being whisked away by… by my Kevin.” Saying it out-loud makes Sami smile and Kevin stay silent for a second, maybe two, maybe just long enough to let Sami knows he’s not reading too much into it. “I’d say that is a great idea”, he finally does reply, a little breathless and a little happy. “I’ll text you the details tomorrow, okay? And now I’ll have to go to bed, I’m absolutely knackered.”

Sami cannot deny the disappointment that wells up in his chest, but he understands, of course. He’s been there, too. “Sure, get some rest”, he tells Kevin, clutches the phone even closer as long as he can still hear the other. “And sleep well. I can’t wait for you to whisk me away.” Kevin hums, and on the very tip of Sami’s tongue are three words he meant to say a million times before, maybe the three words which hold the most truth of all of them. Part of him wants to finally hear them spoken, but Sami swallows them, because the right moment to say them cannot be when they are hundreds of miles apart. Instead, he waits for Kevin to speak. “Goodnight”, Kevin finally says and for a moment, he sounds as far away as he really is. Sami expects the line to die, to leave him alone in his room again, but then Kevin takes a deep breath and adds one last thing. “And Sami?” “Yes?” “I kind of missed you, too.”

[the-caldwell-family]

Prompt Writing

Hey guys, what's up? I'm back and horribly procrastinating writing. The good news is that I procrastinated writing so much to the point of going back to writing. I saw a prompt I liked on instagram and decided I wanted to write it, so here it is. It's silly and stupid and really meant to be more of a writing exercise, but I liked it, so I decided you share it with you guys. Hope you enjoy it!

Based on this prompt:

Story below the break!

He had a problem.

Okay, that was wrong. It wasn't a problem, so much as an issue. Just a tiny, little issue that can be fixed in an instant. There was no reason to panic. No reason at all.

The flame reached the cabinet.

Nevermind, it was time to panic. He scrambled off the floor and rushed for his phone. His fingers shook as he put in his password and searched his contacts. He clicked the first one he saw. The phone rang against his ear before he could have the thought to check who he had called. It was unnecessary, anyways, he would have recognized the slurring voice that answered from anywhere. 

"'ello?"

He lifted the phone from his ear to check the time. 1:32 am. Shit. Drew was going to kill him for waking her up so early. He couldn't back out now, though. The flames were charring the bottom of the cabinet now and he was definitely not getting his security deposit back. He took a deep breath, and braced for impact.

"So, we may have a problem."

"A problem?"

"Yeah."

"Let me guess. You caused it?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that–" He cut off with a yelp as the stove threw out more sparks. "Okay, I absolutely caused it and now I don't know how to fix it. Hello? Hello?" He dropped the phone from his ear, and his contact list stared back at him. He groaned and threw his head back against the wall. Of course she hung up on him. Of course. The fire beside him whooshed dramatically, but he was already getting sick of it. Dialing the number underneath Drew's, he lifted the phone to his ear and waited. 

Just as he heard another, "Josh?" in his ear, the glass besides the stove shattered, the sound echoing in the relatively small kitchen. "What the fuck was that?" the voice demanded. Trust Darryl to have his priorities in order.

"Hey, so you won't believe this, but we have another problem." The words barely left his mouth before he regretted it.

"No, no. WE don't have a problem. You have a problem, and I have an idiot who keeps getting into them." Josh tried to interrupt because he did not get into that many problems, but he was cut off.

"Please, there's a fire and I don't know what to do. They never went over this in high school."

 "What do you mean fire? Hell if I know what to do, pour water on it or something. Try calling Randy, he probably knows what to do." The call ended as the other glass on the counter exploded.

He decided to do as Darryl said and rushed to the sink. The handles were warm, but they still poured water, which was a blessing he'd take. Filling a cup, he threw the water at the fire, which absolutely did not help. Why was the fire getting bigger?

He did not sign up for this. He just wanted to do the right thing, and now he was in the middle of an inferno with no friends that wanted to help. Though Darryl did have one good point: Randy would probably be able to help with this. He designed kitchens, which was close enough. Scrolling to the 'R' section, he pressed on Randy's icon. 

The phone dialed for so long, he thought Randy wouldn't pick up, but a second before he was going to give up, Randy's voice filtered through the phone. "What do you want this time?" He was screaming into the phone, and the sound of deafening party music filtered through. Josh knew exactly where Randy was. He spent more time at Elizabeth's Bar than he did at home, which was amazing because he worked from home.

He didn't even try to soften the blow. "We've got a problem."

"And it's Tuesday, what's your point?" The response was immediate that it took a second for Josh to answer. The second was enough time for another person to join the conversation.

"What's happening over here?" Kevin asked. Of course Kevin was there. Randy rarely went anywhere without Kevin, especially Elizabeth's. He didn't understand what they did there all day. They could hardly pick up strangers after they declared their relationship exclusive. He wondered if they just sat at the bar all day and made friends. He almost laughed at the picture in his head. Randy with his thick leather jacket and cowboy boots chatting about the weather at the bar. Or Kevin stuttering through an explanation of planetary orbits. God, they were perfect for each other. The smell of burning wood brought him out of his semi-hysterical thoughts and back into the conversation, which hasn't progressed at all.

"Joshie's got a problem."

"Of course he does. Give me second, I'm not nearly drunk enough to listen to this yet." Josh heard Kevin order another round and Randy ask to double it. 

"Guys, not helping." The cabinets were definitely not fixable at this point. It was sunken in a way it hadn't been this morning. "Just, what do you know about putting out an oil fire?" His words met silence, the party music louder in the absence of voices. He could admit there was a better way to have said that, but he was in a bit of a hurry. The smoke was starting to choke, and the fire was still not any closer to being put out. "Hello?" he repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time today.

"Sorry, I thought I heard you say there was a fire." Josh winced. Kevin did not sound happy, and it was never a good day when Kevin wasn't happy.

"I know, I know, but there really isn't time for your lecture today, professor. Just, any suggestions 'cause my cabinets are not supposed to look like that. I tried throwing water on it, but I think it just got bigger." A sharp laugh came through the speakers, a harsh sound compared to Randy's other laughs. Josh winced again and hoped they'd help soon. He was in for a long lecture come tomorrow, but he had to see through tonight before he even started worrying about that. 

"You idiot, water's not going to help. It's fucking grease. Here, hold on, let me get Elizabeth, she'll probably know what to do. Elizabeth!" Josh had to hold the phone away from his ear from the sheer force of the yell. It somehow managed to overpower the noise of the ever-growing blaze beside him. After what seemed like an hour, but logically couldn't be more than a few minutes, Elizabeth's complaining became clear.

"What do you bums want? I've got a job, unlike you lazy sacks of shit." Her words produced the strongest image in his mind: a hip cocked to the side, hands lazily wiping at a cup that was mostly there for show, bushy red hair barely staying contained behind her head. He wondered if he was hallucinating from all the smoke. 

"Josh has a problem. Again." Which was unfair, he did not have that many problems. Everyone was over-exaggerating a bit too much, and Kevin was just angry about the broken mug from last week. He had no way of knowing that it was his favorite mug. 

"If you meant the leaky pipe under the sink, that's the solution to last week's problem. How he managed to get a chicken bone stuck in his pipe is a mystery I never plan to solve." Josh didn't even know there was a leaky pipe under his sink, but he'd have to take her word for it until the kitchen wasn't on fire.

When Randy didn't laugh at Elizabeth's weak attempt at a joke, Josh knew he was in the dog house. Literally soon, if someone doesn't help him with this fire. "His house is on fire."

Which, no. "Not my house, just my kitchen. My stove. The grease caught on fire, and now the fire won't go down."

Elizabeth let out a string of curses that were definitely not all English. He hadn't even known she spoke another language. The more you know.

The cabinet above the stove began to make creaking noises that sounded suspicious, and he really couldn't waste anymore time. "I swear I'll invite you all over tomorrow to yell at me, but I need a house to invite you, so could someone please tell me what to do."

"You idiot! What the fuck were you cooking at one in the morning? Don't answer that, numb-nuts." Josh wondered if he was that predictable or if Elizabeth had telepathic powers. "Did you turn the stove off?"

Josh scoffed lightly. "Of course I did. I'm not that stupid."

"I wouldn't say that." Josh really needed Kevin to let that mug go. An unhappy Kevin was an unhappy Randy and he couldn't take that kind of stress in his life. Especially not with a kitchen currently on fire.

"How big's the fire?" He needed to remember to send a gift basket to Elizabeth. Or maybe he should just pay his tab at the bar.

"Well my cabinet definitely needs to be replaced, but it hasn't reached the ceiling yet, so I'm calling it a win."

"You idiot," she repeated. "Spray it with a fire extinguisher."

The sudden laughter that boomed through the phone startled him, but he should have expected it. He really needed new friends, not friends who hung up on him or laughed while he faced death. Randy spoke through his chuckling, "You really think he has a fire extinguisher at his house? The only reason he had a stove is 'cause it came with the house. He'd buy takeout everyday if he had the money." He couldn't even deny it; he really did eat takeout for a month straight until he had run out of money and resorted to stealing food from his friends' fridges. More importantly, though, was that they were right about the fire extinguisher.

"Any of you guys got a spare extinguisher I can use?" If possible, the laughter got louder, and Josh could really use some support right now.

"You live like twenty minutes away, what good does that do you? Go to your neighbors, borrow his." God, he could kiss Elizabeth right now. Wait, nevermind, he definitely could not. He would pay his bar tab, though. "God, I'm surrounded by fucking idiots." 

"Okay, stay," he said to his inanimate phone before running out his front door to his neighbor Jeffrey's door. He knocked rapidly, and only realized the time when Jeffrey opened the door with a glare. His deadbolt stayed locked, but it felt more like it was protecting him than it was protecting Jeffrey.

"If you don't give me an acceptable reason for waking me up at one in the morning, I will shoot you right now."

He felt like a naughty student being stared down by the principal. "I, uh, I have a bit of a problem."

"Would shooting you solve the problem? No? Then leave." That was not an empty threat, as he had found out last year when he had needed sugar. The landlord was still angry about the bullet hole in the wall. Jeffrey started to close the door, but Josh stuck his foot against it. A horrible idea in hindsight when his foot got painfully squished between the door and the wall.

"Just, do you have a fire extinguisher?"

Jeffrey's brow furrowed. "A fire extinguisher? What for?"

"Extinguishing a fire." Jeffrey's stare held the promise of a thousand deaths.  All he wanted was to put out the fire in his kitchen, and now he was going to die.

The staring contest lasted another minute, a minute where he really thought he was going to die, but Jeffrey just disappeared into his apartment and came back with a shiny fire extinguisher in his hand. "If you burn down the building, I will make good on my promises." God, he really needed new friends.

Extinguisher in hand, he squared his shoulders and braced for battle. The door to his apartment had stayed open after he'd left, and the light from the fire illuminated the walls. Somehow, the cabinet had stayed stable despite its completely charred bottom, but its creaking noises were not hopeful. Ignoring the screaming from his phone, he aimed the nozzle at the fire and squeezed on the handles, bracing for kick-back. Nothing. The trigger wouldn't move, and the fire kept burning around him. He decided he was going to take a fire safety class after this. Maybe even get a fire extinguisher for the apartment.

The fire grew in size with a loud crack. He grabbed his phone off the counter, and put it up to his ear. "I think it's broken, it won't spray."

Elizabeth, as always, was the voice of reason. "Let me guess, you didn't pull the pin, did you?" He stayed silent, which was answer enough. It wasn't like he'd ever needed a fire extinguisher before. Or at least, he'd never had to be the one to use it. "There's a pin in the top, pull it out, then aim and spray." She was shouting again as the music around her grew louder. It almost felt like she was in another world, his own consisting only of the room around him and the fire blazing in front of him.

He found the pin with a victorious shout and pulled it out. He yelled out a thanks to the phone as he set it down again. He managed to hear Elizabeth's final shout to spray side-to-side, which seemed pretty specific, but he couldn't fault her advice now. The sudden burst of foam almost threw him off his feet, but he planted them wide and set to spraying the fire, which was much harder than he expected. The nozzle was ridiculously hard to control, so it took a minute of trying to get it aimed at the stove. 

The room was filling with shades of white, smoke and foam mixing in a weird combination that reminded him of flying through a cloud. He pressed on the handles as long as he could, until the foam came out uneven. He couldn't see any flames left, though he couldn't see much of anything in his kitchen. 

The counter and stove were invisible beneath the sea of foam. The cabinets, previously a dark brown, looked as white as the stove below it, though he could still see the charred black surface shining through. He panted, standing in the middle of his kitchen at one in the morning, wearing pajamas and staring at the ruined remains of his once clean stove. 

A buzzing from the counter drew his attention away from the cloud he'd created. Elizabeth had ended the call, and was now video calling him. He answered, not taking his eyes off the disaster in front of him. 

"How'd it go?" Randy's voice was light-hearted, but unexplainably gruff. It barely registered in his mind, and he flipped the camera. The foam seemed to have grown in the few seconds it had been there, and the entire countertop was hidden under it. Randy let out a low whistle. "Houston, we have a problem."

He felt a smile grow on his face. Maybe he was hysterical, maybe he breathed in too much smoke and foam, but nothing could stop the laugh that bubbled up his throat. Standing in the middle of a charred, foam-covered kitchen, a stupid, wide grin plastered on his face, he said, "You call it a problem, I call it a solution."

[mk-asks-and-headcannons]

You love Erron. I love Erron. We all love Erron. So Imma request him for the ‘send me a character’ prompt. ;) spread the cowboy love

*cracks knuckles* oh yes I am all for this! And I am all for spreading the cowboy love ;)

First Impression: So technically I was introduced to him in Mortal Kombat X and I must say…I have some words. Though the idea of a codeless mercenary sounded really enticing, his interpretation in mkx felt downright creepy. I vaguely remember one of his dialogues with Jacqui before a round started and it seriously creeped me the hell out to almost a Kano level (no offense @kanofeetpics ). It went something like:

“You’re messing with the wrong girl!”

“…And yet it feels so right.”

YEESH

He also wasn’t ugly, but I didn’t find him all that attractive either. So yeah. About 4 out of 10 cowboy hats as a rating.

Now. Mk 11…this mans face alone made me want to explode. He was just,,,serving face. Even with the mask on!!! He got the biggest glow-up in mortal kombat history! But it all changed as soon as he opened his mouth…where did that accent come from again?

Impression now: I’m much more used to the accent but it really took me aback since a) very little southerners speak like that (a lot of us sound like normal people I promise) and b) the writers had him say some cringey shit that made little sense to me. Like,,, every time he mentioned beans in his dialogue I felt like I was going to lose it! But then I heard:

“Easy shuga, just being friendly.”

and 

“Ooooh~ then bring me in babydoll.”

It was at that moment in which my sexual orientation was Erron Black. He is also a man with nice arms who knows damn well how to dress. I also fancy his humor.

But all silliness aside, I do love this lone wolf archetype he has going on and his character never fails to be interesting. Like his tower ending in mk 11 was actually one of my favorites and was really satisfying to watch. 10 out of 10 cowboy hats for mk 11 Erron.

Favorite moment: Ugh this is so overused but that big jump he makes in mkx after Takeda trips him with his blade whips in story mode hhjghjghkuilkhjlk

I also like his new taunts in mk 11 where he whips out his pistols and spins ‘em around like yoyos or something!

Unpopular Opinion: Erron Black is bi! It’s already clear that he is a massive flirt, who sweet talks almost all the women in his dialogues (except d’vorah probably sksks) but the man has lived a long life…you really think he has never looked at another guy in that way? Black has experimented at least. 

Favorite Relationship: U-um… Erron and Kabal. Ok there I said it! Honestly though! I see them having wonderful chemistry!

Favorite Headcannon: I don’t see Black as one who is into commitment. Oh definitely not. Which is why the relationship thing rarely happens. But I like the idea of Erron having a one night stand and wanting it to be a one and done situation, but Erron starts to develop a little crush he doesn’t necessarily want. It’ d be interesting to watch him wrestle with those feelings, but I’d see the two falling in love over a long period of time and all that jazz.

Aaah thank you so much @malicedragoness as I could truly talk about Erron Black all day but I didn’t want this post to be too long! This was a lot of fun to write!