#I get to be BOTH pink cowboy AND every other thing I am. I can still be CoolTM. I can still be completely myself.

[noneorother]

The art director & the Good Omens book cover tier list of doom, part 1

This is going to have to be a multi-part series because there are *checks notes* 64 different covers that I've found so far.

I am your resident Art Director/Good Omens enthusiast, and welcome to my completely meta-free book cover tier list. Listen, making a book cover is HARD. I should know. But while we salute these artists for their hard work and time, I think we can all admit that once in a while, the vision is just not on. And on very rare occasions, publishers seemed to have managed to commission the cover art directly from hell... 1. The original UK cover

Ahh, the standard by which all shall be judged. We're starting off with a nice & easy cover, with adorable woodcuts of Aziraphale and Crowley flanking a custom Good Omens font! While I have to take a few points off for the terrible kerning of the word "GoOD", the blockprint vibes and general bitchiness of Aziraphale's teeny weeny wittle face, along with the sick colour palette puts the orignial in my good graces. Tier: Great

2. The duelling US covers

Progress! Hail to the designer who figured out trying to make "GoOD" and "OMeNs" fit the same width was a fool's errand, and even managed to IMPROVE on the original handmade title by adding a little halo and devil's tale to the design. Aziraphale and Crowley are facing each other, while also managing to serve absolute cunt. Aziraphale is wearing EIGHTIES SNEAKERS. Crowley's little snake boots have HEELS. They've managed to keep the woodcut vibes and colour simplicity, while balancing out the full title of the book. Both authors get to trade off on who's name comes first! Dare I say, this is a work of genius. I could dock some points for Crowley's sad bat wings growing out of his right clavicle, but who am I to question greatness.

Tier: Blessed by God Herself

3. The Halo Master Chief(?) cover

How the mighty have fallen... As a Canadian child, I was subjected to maybe the most horrifying ad in existence by the War Amps warning children about machine safety. This cover is the paper embodiment of that ad. I am confused by the purple haze. I am frightened by the seeming ethereal flatness of Adam and Dog. I am strangely aroused by Aziraphale's eyebrows, and intensely saddened by the terrible outline/drop shadow they had to inflict on the type to fit "Pratchett" in that god awful space. Tier: WTF

4. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers

This cover inexplicably exists in two colour ways: red and teal. I put the audiobook cover here so you could experience the full illustration, and also how fucked up it is that they cropped the book version to include three horse-people of the apocalypse, but cut off DEATH on the regular cover. Points must be given for drawing a pretty slick Bentley, but I think we have to take even more points away for turning Crowley into a Ray Charles/Mike Wazowski hybrid. The ducks are nice. Tier: Not so Good (Omens)

5. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers continued

I don't know if the German designer of this cover *knew* that they were using western yeehaw cowboy woodblock letters when they made this cover, but judging by how they spaced the rest of the text at the bottom, THEY DID NOT CARE. And that seems to be a running theme for this one. We get kind of a duality thing going on with the black and pink background, but it just seems like somebody whispered the general themes of Good Omens into a jar, and threw it down a well, and this poor chap came along and picked it up. The baffling choice to align every piece of text on the cover *except* Neil Gaiman's name which is right aligned and rotated 90 degrees (not even real vertical type) will haunt my dreams, I think.

Tier: Bad

6. US, UK The Traffic Jam cover

For the love of Good Omens, WHY. I can think of so many more interesting symbols to put on the cover of this book than the ODEGRA SIGIL TRAFFIC JAM. Props for keeping the good colours and type, but like, I think this cover was secretly designed by @amtrak-official, or someone who just really, really likes public works. Tier: Does the Job

7. France, De bons présages cover

Leave it to France to make sure people know that Aziraphale and Crowley fuck severely. While I can't condone leaving out half the title of the book (and thinking a red carpenter's square counts as decoration), I can begrudgingly acknowledge that Ron Pearlman and Benedict Cumberbatch's love child is excellent Crowley casting. I think I give this a solid dark academia/10. Tier: Good (Omens)

8. France, De bons présages covers continued

Just imagine with me, if you will, the absolutely hilarious reality that this cover posits: Good Omens is exactly the same in every respect, but Crowley drives a pink 1950s convertible. Why do all of the colours on this cover look like they've been pre-digested? Why are the font choices and placement so bafflingly bad. My face is the demon's face holding that car. I feel his pain.

Tier: WTF

9. France, De bons présages covers continued

Minus points for not managing to write the full title of the book once again. I don't know what it is with the French. They seem pretty set on Good Omens being demonic. While I do appreciate a good Bosch-style demon party, the dude in the middle confounds me. All-caps Museo Sans that isn't even *centred* in the frame is just so lazy. I am le tired. Tier: Bad

10. France, De bons présages covers continued

Uhh. The font. The font is okay.... I think? Yeah. The font and kerning are. Okay. OHHH GOD I LOOKED DOWN BELOW THE TEXT WHYYYY. Tier: WTF

END of round one. I need a nap.

#good omens 2 #good omens fandom #good omens #art director talks good omens #tier list #cover art #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale x crowley #book cover #go s2 #gomens #good omens analysis

[brown-little-robin]

.

#military surplus store trip 2 days ago #I got a very pink cowboy hat despite questioning everything about how I present myself. it was Calling to me #multiple people loved it and when I got home and put it on my 3 yo sister stopped in her tracks and said 'wow... you're soo pretty' #that has never happened before #so I Guess the pink cowboy hat will be a Special Fashion Thing #despite the little existential crisis it gives me every time I think about being a pink cowboy hat girl #which is a bit ridiculous but there you go. #I was so secretly dedicated to looking either vaguely emo (<333) or cuttingly defensively professional for a long time #that the idea of being COWBOY-aligned (CONSERVATIVE IDOLS UGH) and not only that but PINK (feminine??? >:O) really did not appeal #but it looks GOOD on me and... sigh. I don't have to make people know my personality by my clothes. I can just wear what I WANT to #and I really do LIKE the pink cowboy hat!! it's silly and awesome and goes clink and it's a COWBOY HAT man!!! #I get to be BOTH pink cowboy AND every other thing I am. I can still be CoolTM. I can still be completely myself. #those who love me will understand me. those who don't... don't have to understand me. #goodness gracious that was a lot of soul-searching over a HAT #I also got very very tough Army jungle combat boots #I am expecting them last well >:D and they make me feel SO POWERFUL #Robin processes emotions on main #I Guess XD #I only meant to tell y'all about my cool new items I swear

[yeehanfrf]

Week 7 Recs: Fever Dreams

Week 7's theme was "Fever Dreams," all about the crackfics and other wild and wacky rides. Some of these are sheer goofy fun, and others take a chance with some crack treated seriously. This includes not one but FOUR different animal transformation fics, by the way. Here are the recs gathered from the Yeehan community, organized by rating then alphabetically by title!

General Audiences

A Better Fate Than Roadkill by robocryptid [10,982 words] Reccer comment: "the summary says it all LOL"

When shelter worker Hanzo takes in a rescued armadillo, he doesn't expect it to be quite so much trouble. Or for it to take such a shine to him. Or for it to maybe, possibly, be more than an ordinary armadillo.

Teen and Up

See Through The Dragon's Eyes by thecatsred [20,131 words] Reccer comment: "i’m always a sucker for Hanzo getting turned into different creatures - though this one of him being turned into a noodle dragon is actually kinda cute"

There is little to be done once Hanzo's dragons have their minds set on solving his problems (with some nudging from certain interested parties).

Mature

Pink by mataglap [3,998 words] Reccer comment: "Because who can resist Cole in a fluffy pink tiara and Hanzo with a pretty pink hair bow 😂"

The fact that they are on the same side, on the same team and fighting for more or less the same cause doesn't change the fact that Hanzo Shimada and Cole Cassidy compete about everything.

Put It In (A Hallmark Card) by robocryptid [WIP; 4,412 words] Reccer comment: "Cupid has a personal issue with Hanzo and deals with it the way trickster deities usually do."

After pissing off Cupid, Hanzo is cursed to do the god's bidding by playing matchmaker. His latest assignment is the most challenging yet: finding the perfect match for one Cole Cassidy.

Trust and Love in a Broken Heart by Author_of_Kheios [22,191 words] Reccer comment: "not exactly a crack fic, but I'd like to recommend "Trust and Love in a Broken Heart" by my buddy Author_of_Kheios. Hanzo accidentally gets possessed by the god of Love, but this Cupid is far kinder, more thoughtful, and more profound, than he is usually given credit for, and Hanzo and the Cowboy both get swept along for an adventure. The ending is perfectly self-contained, but also leaves the door open for further adventures"

Hanzo didn't mean to become a vessel for a god of love, but it might just be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

Explicit

Anatomically Correct by Sougishiki [245 words] Reccer comment: "speaking of fever dreams, I thought I’d only imagined this fic, but no. it’s real & it’s delightfully cursed."

First of all, I am so sorry. Second of all, that thing dogs do when they tie where they go butt to butt to keep watch.

Don't think about it by urgaylol [129,830 words] Reccer comment: "Anything urgaylol has ever written, honestly. But the one in which Hanzo becomes a hardcore utilitarian dictator takes the cake."

Hanzo asks McCree for casual sex and misadventures ensue.

Pastel Darklord by Dracoduceus [60,085 words] Reccer comment: "let’s include a trifecta of YeeHan animal transformation fics with “Pastel Darklord” by dracoduceus"

Hanzo has been turned into a swan and he is not thrilled at all.

On the plus side, his handler is a very attractive man.

--

Jesse is not thrilled to be taking care of a swan, much less one as aggressive as the one he was sent to rescue from a local park for attacking someone, but he doesn't have it in him to turn down an animal in need.

He's also been dreaming a lot lately. Dreaming of a very attractive man that always seemed to be waiting for him at the shores of the lake...

The Rest is Gravy by robocryptid [1,430 words] Reccer comment: "I have to request this one bc I still laugh at how ridiculous it is-- Cass is way too horny for his own good--"

As an international organization, the new Overwatch tries to celebrate the holidays of every one of its members' cultures. This time, it's American Thanksgiving. Cole Cassidy cannot handle it.

Rooster in the House of the Rising Sun by coinin [18,300 words] Reccer 1 comment: "I mean, I'm never not gonna rec this absolute masterpiece of crack treated seriously"

Reccer 2 comment: "This is unironically one of my favorite fics 😭"

Reccer 3 comment: "Absolutely the best Yeehan crackfic of all time, hands down, no question."

Reccer 4 comment: "Still among my favorite Hanzo or Yeehan fics ever."

Hanzo makes a deal for his life, and spends some time as a rooster. It's better than dying, right?

That's all the Week 7 recs! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a fic rec. Stay tuned for the Week 8 theme: "Middle of the Road," i.e. those fics that are long but not too long (10k to 25k words).

In the meantime, you can also check out the Week 6 recs here or check the list of past and future themes here!

#yeehan #yeehan fic rec friday #yeehan fic recs #cole cassidy #hanzo shimada #yeehanfrf #author: robocryptid #author: thecatsred #author: mataglap #author: Author_of_Kheios #author: Sougishiki #author: urgaylol #author: Dracoduceus #author: coinin #week 7 #fever dreams

[bluiex]

I am extremely sorry for spamming your asks but I'd just love to say— I didn't hear about the Jimmy/Scar gay cowboys thing. But I've had some thoughts on it and headcanons swimming around, soo...

Head Canon that Jimmy and Grian completely fight over Scar, It's honestly not even too far from the truth. Because the whole Grian saying "He's already my deputy" or something along those lines just got me completely hooked. Jimmy and Grian throwing glares at each other when the other is talking to Scar then moments later teasing each other like a couple would and completely fawning over the other in secret. For example, "God I hate Grian's face! And his messy hair, and his pink lips, and his stupidly adorable freckles!".

For those two it's like a love triangle meanwhile Scar is under the impression that it's a polyam relationship. Scar as Grian's romantic partner and Jimmy as the Queer Platonic partner. If Mumbo came around he'd be in the QPR for sure while being mostly romantically involved with Iskall.

Also, must I say. Grian 100% when seeing his partners he kisses them whether it be on the mouth or the cheek, he always does it when flying around, surprise kisses!

Grian goes in to kiss Jimmy's cheek and he flinches with a hint of red going to his cheeks and Grian pulls his hat in front of his face, dashing away immediately as Jimmy stutters and jumbles his words even though he knew it would happen.

When Grian glides around Scar he would kiss him and Scar would always try to hold him there so the kiss could be longer but Grian always left as fast as he could so he didn't get too distracted and forget what he was doing.

Every time Grian flies to Mumbo, Mumbo is already aware he's there and Grian stops a couple feet away from him before running up to him with Mumbo rushing forwards as well before both of them just have their hands on the other's cheeks to embrace for a short kiss all giddy like before going on and talking like that didn't just happen and greeting each other.

And let me just sprinkle in one more hc; Grian, Jimmy, and Bdubs have without a doubt kissed every person on the server like they're collecting Pokemon.

(Can you tell I like Polyam relationship?"

—🎭

I love your ideas - don't feel sorry for "spamming"

YES POLYAM POLYAM!!

I love these!! Scar thinking they're just polyam relationship- brings it up to Grian who is like confused at first but then says yes. Yes we are. Then goes and kisses Jimmy on the cheek With Scar kissing the other

Grian is a pesky kissing bird

#bluie gets an ask poggers #long post #solidariantimes #yes their ship name

[orions-garden]

My favorite lyrics from every Mitski song:

Laurel Hell (2022)

Valentine, Texas: “Let’s drive out to where dust devils are made/By dancing ghosts as they kick up clouds of sand”

Working for the Knife: “I always knew the world moves on/I just didn’t know it would go without me”

Stay Soft: “Open up your heart/Like the gates of hell”

Everyone: “I didn’t know that I was young/I didn’t know what it would take/Sometimes I think I am free/Until I find I’m back in line again”

Heat Lightning: “And there’s nothing I can do, not much I can change/Can I give it up to you?/Would that be okay?”

The Only Heartbreaker: “I’ll be the water main that’s burst and flooding/You’ll be by the window, only watching”

Love Me More: “How do other people live?/I wonder how they keep it up/When today is finally done/There’s another day to come”

There’s Nothing Left for You: “You had it once before/Not anymore”

Should’ve Been Me: “When I saw the girl looked just like me/I thought, ‘must be lonely loving someone/tryna find their way out of a maze’”

I Guess: “If I could keep anything of you/I would keep just this quiet after you/It’s still as a pond I am staring into”

That’s Our Lamp: “You say you love me/I believe you do… You just don’t like me/Not like you used to”

Be the Cowboy (2018)

Geyser: “And hear the harmony/Only when it’s harming me”

Why Didn’t You Stop Me?: “I look for a picture of you/To keep in my pocket/But I can’t seem to find one/Where you look how I remember”

Old Friend: “Every time I drive through the city where you’re from/I squeeze a little”

A Pearl: “You’re growing tired of me/And all the things I don’t talk about/Sorry I don’t want your touch/It’s not that I don’t want you”

Lonesome Love: “‘Cause nobody butters me up like you, and/Nobody fucks me like me”

Remember My Name: “Just how many stars will I need to hang around me/To finally get somewhere I can be all done/Somewhere that I can burn”

Me and My Husband: “I steal a few breaths/From the world for a minute/And then I’ll be nothing forever/And all of my memories/And all of the things I have seen/Will be gone/With my eyes with my body with me”

Come into the Water: Maybe I’m the same as all those men/Writing songs of all they’re dreaming”

Nobody: “And I don’t want your pity/I just want somebody near me/Guess I’m a coward/I just want to feel alright”

Pink in the Night: “It’s like a summer shower/With every drop of rain singing/I love you, I love you, I love you”

A Horse Named Cold Air: I thought/I’d traveled/A long way/But I had/Circled the same old sin”

Washing Machine Heart: “I know who you pretend I am/But do mi ti/Why not me?”

Blue Light: “Somebody kiss me, I’m going crazy”

Two Slow Dancers: “And the ground has been slowly pulling us back down/You see it on both our skin/We get a few years and then it wants us back”

Puberty 2 (2016)

Happy: “Well I sighed and mumbled to myself/Again, I have to clean”

Dan the Dancer: “And when she asked to hold hands/He would smile and/Let one of his hands go/His whole life in one hand/His whole life”

Once More to See You: “If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses/Then I wouldn’t have to scream your name atop of every roof in the city of my heart”

Fireworks: “One morning this sadness will fossilize/And I will forget how to cry”

Your Best American Girl: “Your mother wouldn’t approve of how my mother raised me/But I do, I finally do”

I Bet on Losing Dogs: “I bet on losing dogs/I know they’re losing and I pay for my place/By the ring”

My Body’s Made of Crushed Little Stars: “I better ace that interview/I should tell them that I’m not afraid to die”

Thursday Girl: “Glory, glory, glory to the night/It shows me what I am”

A Loving Feeling: “What do you do with a loving feeling/If they only love you when you’re all alone”

Crack Baby: “It’s been a long hard twenty year summer vacation/Both these twenty years trying to fill the void”

A Burning Hill: “Today I will wear my white button-down/I’m tired of wanting more/I think I’m finally worn”

Bury Me at Makeout Creek (2014)

Texas Reznikoff: “But I’ve been anywhere/And it’s not what I want/And I wanna be still with you”

Townie: “And I want a love that falls as fast/As a body from the balcony”

First Love/Late Spring: “Wild women don’t get the blues”

Francis Forever: “I don’t know what to do without you/I don’t know where to put my hands”

I Don’t Smoke: “I am stronger than you give me/Credit for”

Jobless Monday: “He only loves me when/There’s a means he means to end”

Drunk Walk Home: “I will retire to the salton sea/At the age of 23/For I’m starting to learn I may never be free”

I Will: “And we’re not out of the tunnel/I bet you though there’s an end/Stay with me/Hold my hand”

Carry Me Out: “And I say your name/In hopes you’ll hear it in the stars”

Last Words of a Shooting Star: “I always wanted to die clean and pretty/But I’d be too busy on working days/So I am relieved that the turbulence wasn’t forecasted/I couldn’t have changed anyways”

Retired from Sad, New Career in Business (2013)

Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart: “Maybe when you tell your friends/You can tell them what you saw in me/And not how I turned out to be”

Shame: “I was never very good/I haven’t been so good”

Because Dreaming Costs Money, My Dear: “So darling, play your violin/I know it’s what you live for/Darling, play your violin/We will manage somehow”

Humpty: “All the eggshells are on the ground/And I try, I’m trying to pick them up/But they crack and crumble/It’s all too much/Too frail for me to touch”

Circle: “I would give you my heart, I think/But it’s up in a branch of a tree”

I Want You: “You’re coming back/And it’s the end of the world/We’re starting over/And I love you, darling/And I am done, dear”

Square: “I tried my hardest, for I’d never learned/God’s very simple, and love shouldn’t burn”

Strawberry Blond: “I love everybody because I love you”

Class of 2013: “Mom, am I still young?/Can I dream for a few months more?”

Lush (2012)

Liquid Smooth: “Biology, I am an organism/I’m chemical that’s all/That is all”

Eric: “I’m tired, I’m tired of not loving you”

Brand New City: “But if I gave up on being pretty/I wouldn’t know how to be alive/I should move to a brand new city/And teach myself how to die”

Real Men: “Real men don’t flinch or bleed in public/ Oh, I think I’m a real man”

Wife: “I daydream I’d give him a name of my own/For I, even mine, even mine is unknown”

Abbey: “There is a dream and it sleeps in me/Keeps me awake in the night/Crying, ‘set me free’/And I wake every night/Crying, ‘set me free’”

Bag of Bones: “I’m all used up, pretty boy, over and over again/My nail colors are wearing off/See my hands, pretty boy, what do they tell you?/‘Cause I’ve looked down at them not knowing why”

Door: “A hopeless, a violence/I named it:/Love”

Pearl Diver: “Oh hunter, if you didn’t want the beautiful so badly/Perhaps you would have found it in your spirit singing softly”

#mitski

[sy-on-boy]

Spy x Family Opening Analysis :D

(Note: contains spoilers!)

Link to opening animation and opening MV! They’re both amazing.

First of all, this is an absolutely stunning and colourful opening and I am so obsessed with it. I think I watched it on loop for like twenty times. It’s just so addictive. 

Secondly, there’s also a really good Twitter thread by Namaryuu analysing the opening specifically in regards to other works by Masashi Ishihama, the director of the opening. I recommend giving it a read!

Also once again this is just my opinion (and I tend to stretch things) so apologies for any mistakes/ misinformation. Now let’s begin! :D

The opening shot is of a reflection of a crescent moon disappearing in a puddle. I believe this is a small reference to how Anya’s powers vanish every time the new moon comes. 

Then, we are treated to quick-paced action scenes in highly saturated colours like red, yellow, green purple etc. Many typical spy elements are shown, such as bombs, gunfire, spying through spyglasses, and car chases. The music is chaotic as it builds up to the first verse. Personally, I think this bit gives off a retro vibe and reminds me of Cowboy Bebop’s opening (sorry, I’m not the best at these terms).

Stylistically, this beginning part is very different from the rest of the opening and the anime. The high contrast of colours reminds me of classic spy movies, a nod to the spy genre itself. Twilight, the famous spy, is also the only character present in this scene. The font reminds me of (American) comics, which again has retro vibes. This “tricks” the viewers into thinking SxF might be a typical action/spy anime, only for that expectation to both be fulfilled and subverted. 

Then, we see the first image in this post- our three leads painted in different colours, Yor staring to the left, Twilight staring to the right, and Anya innocently between them. The first ten or so seconds established the “spy” setting, albeit in a somewhat dramatic way. Now, the “family” part of the title comes in, each member symbolised by a different colour. Yor is in blue, Anya in pink/red, Twilight in yellow. These are the primary colours.

It should also be noted that Yor and Twilight both look serious and unsmiling, while Anya appears to be completely oblivious to them. The serious tone from the first ten seconds continues. Then- it abruptly shifts.

The image is then replaced by how Anya imagines her parents. Yor and Loid are now in casual wear, and while the trio still retain their colours, the artstyle is vastly different. We’re seeing the world through Anya’s eyes. The simplified shapes, the innocent expressions, the childish lines... this is a sudden tonal shift from the “retro serious spy anime” from before. In the first ten seconds, the opening has already established both the “spy” and the “family” parts of the show, and they’re contrasted against each other. We can see the world from the perspective of adults or from a child.

The perspective of Anya is very important in SxF because as a mind reader, she is the only one who has access to everybody’s secret identities and motivations. A lot of exposition is usually done through Anya’s mind reading. 

Then, once the singing starts, we get to see Anya’s life in a simple, childlike manner (the opening is appropriately titled “Mixed Nuts”, suiting Anya). The first thing we see are rainclouds over Anya, and both of her parents offering umbrellas to shield her. The symbol of rain is commonly shown in this opening. Anya is protected by Loid and Yor, awww.  

We see the setting of the anime drawn in a childlike style, from the streets to Eden Academy. Cute speech bubbles and a different font also add to the tone. The colours continue to be bright and happy. Anya is shown jumping along with what appears to be her chimera plush. Fitting for a kid’s imagination. 

We get to see various characters in Anya’s life, from her parents, Franky, classmates, Henderson, to Handler. Handler in particular is shown comically peering and peeping from behind a tower, which is accurate to how Anya imagines spies to be. Anya’s favourite Spy Wars is also present. We know Anya likes cartoons, so it also makes perfect sense for the opening to be animated in a cartoon-like way. (I believe Yuri also makes a cameo with the Spy Wars comics, so rip Fiona)

Interestingly, once Anya walks to the part with Handler and the word “WISE” in the background, it starts raining. Anya takes out her umbrella and the scene transitions to having a rainbow in the background. In this opening, Handler acts as a constant reminder of Operation Strix and how this family is just a facade. In the first episode, Twilight remarked that the Forger family would dissolve once the mission was over. No wonder in Anya’s mind, WISE brings stormy clouds to her happy life. 

Next, we transition to gorgeous shots of the family enjoying life. Anya, still holding her umbrella, is walking. These shots are what typical family trips look like, with references to the aquarium, fancy dining, sightseeing, and so on. The lyrics at this point are “On the template of happiness, behind the picture which is literally picturesque” (all translations of lyrics are from the official MV). This reminds me of Twilight “planning” family trips to “enrich” Anya’s background for the Eden interview. Yes, they may all look happy and like an ordinary family, but it’s just a “template of happiness” that they’re following.

Anya is holding her umbrella in case rain (hardships, suffering, breakups) happens (note that her parents were the ones with the umbrellas at the beginning). Is Anya afraid of being abandoned and has to take care of herself again? At this segment, none of their faces are shown, just their backs and the side profile of Anya running. 

After that, there’s a transition scene of Anya, Yor and Twilight running out of a television. Umbrella Anya disappears. To me, this symbolises Anya’s fascination with her spy cartoons and how she sees her parents’ dynamic as entertainment and “something out of TV”. The lyrics are “We can’t be as we are, even when we put our hands together sitting around a table”. Now, the imagery in the lyrics are quite obvious. We see more happy Forger family scenes, and we also get to see the faces of the Forger family. They’re smiling and look relaxed. They’re drinking wine, going out for Christmas, eating a cake, and so on. This is what Anya’s ideal family life looks like. However, as the lyric hints, things are not what they seem.

We’re nearing the chorus (and the beat drop). Anya takes center stage with the spotlight, with Yor once again on the left, Loid at the right. They still look like a normal happy family, but Loid is about to turn off the light. I especially like this scene because you can see it as Loid switching off Anya’s spotlight, and also switching off the light to leave Anya’s imagination and enter the adults’ world. 

Loid turns off the light, and everyone goes dark. In the normal style of the anime, Twilight’s eyes are seen moving around- much like WISE’s symbol of an eye watching the East (the east is also the right where Twilight is consistently positioned). We’re back to the typical spy imagery of watching. Twilight and the Thorn Princess are shown in a split screen, both looking away from each other and carrying out their missions. This shows their identities remain unknown to each other.

The colours are also very noticeably darker. Night has fallen (haha), and the adults must don their hidden identities. Then, Yor’s panel expands, showing a close up of her red eyes. More watching. Quite appropriately, the lyrics are “Home with full of secrets and patches, you know?” Yor and Loid Forger are not who they seem to be. The Forger household has many secrets. 

We see some cool action and fighting scenes. Yor and Twilight are seen in different settings / backgrounds, showing their jobs are not connected. When we finally see them in a single frame, they’re still separated and highlighted by different colours. 

The split screen then morphs into casual Yor and Loid smiling, back in their Forger family mode. Note that their panels are still not touching until Anya’s frame comes along and connects them together. After all, Anya’s the one playing matchmaker and decided to bring them together for her own excitement. 

Despite all the secret identities plastered over them (quite literally with the TOP SECRET stamps smearing the screen), the Forgers are together and loving. But then...

Handler looms up, a deep ominous purple, the complementary colour of the cheerful yellow used to indicate warmth. As said above, Handler symbolizes the reality of the mission. Her eyes are half-shown, indicating she is always watching (even emphasised with the words EYES ONLY). Would the Forger’s family life be swallowed up by Operation Strix?

Next, we see Handler as a mysterious black silhouette in front of multiple screens screaming out “STRIX”. Handler’s hair moves like smoke to cover up the screens. This adds mystery and suspense to the opening. (Black and yellow might also be Desmond colours because the Desmonds have black hair and Damian has vaguely yellow eyes. Colours of the antagonist maybe?) The lyrics “My life is so insecure and drifting, I know” show that under Operation Strix, the Forger family is supposed to be an illusion. They’re supposed to be insecure about their place in the family because they’re a forgery. Except we know the main three are all genuinely fond of each other. But will Operation Strix cause them to drift apart?

Then we see Franky, a person who is simultaneously involved in Twilight’s career and a Forger family friend. We see a sequence of Yor dressed in different, brightly coloured clothes. Then, we see her with a wide-brimmed hat, knives out in the blue water against a red sky, the slightest bit of her rose motif visible. To me, this is foreshadowing to the cruise arc (holiday hat, water, killing, red blood), where Yor starts to doubt her motivations. 

After the bright and exaggerated colours, we return to the normal anime style. A montage of events are shown over a background of Twilight with a serious expression. We see him next to a train, and he looks up. Camera zooms into the Thorn Princess, smiling from above. The lyrics at this point are “Every day is so mediocre, but I’m here and so are you.” We see the Forgers united below, their signature colours splashed over them. They’re in casual wear and look quite happy. They’re there for each other!

The opening ends with them sitting on their dining table as the camera pans around them. This imagery of “sitting at a table together” is constantly used in promo media and referenced in the lyrics, so it’s no surprise they’re using it as an ending sequence. The main three are coloured in and smiling at each other, but the background is monochrome. The background transforms from a dull bluish grey (more rain/storm imagery?) to a light green with leaves, and finally to a soft yellow with colourful, blooming flowers. The Forgers might have rough backgrounds, but when they come together, their bonds start budding and eventually blossom into something genuine and beautiful. 

As a final note about the rain thing, the full song mentions more of it. “Whether you were born above the tree or beneath the ground, the difference is subtle // may the rain equally moisturise this unacceptably dry world” and “The other side of the window is sometimes cold and noisy, you know? // Occasional starless nights, days filled with thunderstorms are okay”. I suppose rain is used as a metaphor for all the suffering the characters might have suffered in the past, but they band together to provide shelter for one another (especially for Anya).

Anyways, this is getting long, so if you reached this point, thanks for reading this over-the-top post! I really do love this opening. Hope you have a great rest of your day! <3

#spy x family #sxf anime #spy x family spoilers #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #sylvia sherwood #franky franklin #long post #probably made a few stretches here but yeah im dramatic like that lol #if this doesn’t appear in the tags I’ll cry /lh #sxf analysis

[user21340]

the world in her arms

(i don’t own this gif or characters used in this fic)

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: you and natasha have always had quite a flirty and sarcastic relationship. both of you develop feelings for one another but you both are clueless to what the other feels until nat gets jealous and says something hurtful to you. will you make up (or out)?

warnings: minor angst, fluff, swearing, and a mention of death.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: omg thank you so much for 57 followers love you all 💕. sorry for the lack of content i didn’t know what to write and had almost no new ideas. also i’m a youngin and worked my first 8 hr day yesterday so your girl was exhausted and i have finals coming up soon. k thank you for coming to my ted talk, enjoy!

also this song doesn’t relate to the story at all but it’s underrated imo and also sorry for the weird pov changes throughout the story.

“Hey y/l/n! Where are you headed?” Natasha yells from the kitchen while I’m standing in the living room on our shared floor.

“Wouldn’t you like to know Nat.” I say with a smirk.

“Yeah matter of fact I would.” she retorts.

“Chill, I’m just headed to train some recruits with Clint. But don’t miss me too much, I'll be back in a few hours, Natty.” You blow a kiss her way, and she just rolls her eyes partially from the kiss and the use of her nickname but you see a faint pink tint sitting atop of her cheeks before she turns away.

I’ve been training these recruits with Clint for a couple hours and my session is nearing an end. Something I’ve picked up on today is how touchy and how dumb these recruits are acting just for me to correct their form. I don’t have time for this shit I think as this girl has me correct her jab form for what has to be the fifth time this hour.

Non readers pov

Natasha actually does start to miss you because of how bored she is due to the larger training room being occupied for these recruits. She heads down to see if you are wrapping up yet and see if you’d like to grab dinner with her somewhere. She arrives at the training room and heads to the back room where there is a large one way mirror. Natasha, having nothing better to do, watches Clint and yourself interact with these seemingly clueless recruits.

Minutes pass and Natasha honestly likes seeing your frustration every time a recruit asks you a stupid question or something you’d already answered for the hundredth time this session. That is until she sees this handsy recruit keep asking you to correct your form which she sees you fake a smile at and happily correct it. As if Natasha isn’t jealous already she sees you release a genuine large laugh at something a recruit says. Not being able to withstand witnessing anymore of this behavior from you directed towards anyone else except her. Natasha then storms off into the living room.

Readers pov

I was nearing the end of this session when a recruit comes up behind me and asks, “Soooo, is it true that you and Clint are like a thing?” he asks with no trace of humor or sarcasm on his face. I just bust out laughing because one, everyone or at least almost everyone who knows about The Avengers knows that I’m 100% only interested in women and two, CLINT? I mean he is a great guy and all but I’ll never forget the time I went into a diner to have breakfast with him and the waitress assumed he was my grandfather.

twenty long minutes later...

The living room is lively and everyone seems to strike up a conversation with one another. I decide to strike up a conversation with Natasha who is weirdly acting cold all of a sudden.

“Oh my god! You know what I just remembered the other day? My mom used to-“

“Shut up, y/n/n. I don’t care and I don’t think anyone does at the moment.” she exclaims with a small smirk thinking you’ll detect her harsh-morbid sarcasm.

“Oh.” you choke out, “It’s getting pretty late I-I better head to bed” my voice cracks as I mutter a small, ‘asshole’ agony laced in my voice blinking the hot tears away. I start walking towards my room but it slowly turns into a jog, then sprint. Anything to get to my room and release my sadness.

Non readers pov

The room is frozen. Everyone is staring at Natasha.

“I care.” Wanda states heading to your room because she knows you shouldn’t be alone right now.

“Jesus Nat, that was awful. You know you’ve fucked you when even I say it’s bad. Poor girl’s mom passed when she was around 10.” Tony deadpans.

“Oh my god, what have I done?” Nat says burying her head into her hands.

“I’m not too sure how you’re gonna get out of this one Nat, but you’ve gotta fix this.” Sam says.

Wanda reaches your room and hears loud yet muffled sobs while standing in the hallway. She can feel your grief rippling through her body. The only heartache she can relate to is the moment she lost Pietro which is more than an average person should feel. She knocks on the door softly yet hard enough to alert you of her presence.

Readers pov

I hear three soft knocks on the door. I quickly silence my cries and assume it is Nat. I then clear my throat as the knocking continues and muster up enough energy to speak,

“Go away” into my pillow loudly. The knocking stops but I don’t hear anyone walk away just yet.

“Y/n/n, it’s Wanda. Can you let me in please, so we can talk?” she asks, I stand up while groaning and walk towards the door. I unlock it and open it just a crack to make sure she is alone and not with a certain someone. It is pretty short-lived as Wanda pushes the door open the rest of the way.

“Oh hon, I’m sorry.” She says as she wraps me into a tight hug after closing the door behind her. I crumble into her embrace as she rubs small circles on my back. Wanda has always been such a calming figure in my life since I met her, a major part being that she can feel almost all of my anxieties that try to drown me throughout a day. She also knows how it feels to be alone which allows her to relate to my feelings, so she knows just how much missing someone who is gone for eternity hurts.

We hug for what feels like minutes but when I take a quick glance outside my window it is dark out.

“Is it true?” I rasp.

“What?” she counters.

“Y’know that no one cares. All I wanted to do was share a memory that I remembered of myself with my mom and as you know it isn’t too often that I remember these types of things and when I do I love sharing them, so she won’t ever be forgotten. It just hurts so much to be shut down talking about something you truly care about by someone you care about.” I explain while Wanda looks at me with the softest eyes I’ve ever seen while nodding her head slightly.

“Now that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I care and everyone in this compound cares about what you have to say as well as what you are feeling. You know how Natasha can be sometimes with the insensitive comments she makes before realizing what she’s doing.”

“I know but that doesn’t give her the right to j-just say stuff like that. I get how full our relationship is with banter and sarcastic comments but I really thought she was starting to like me.” I frown as Wanda just nods. That’s when exhaustion hits me like a truck.

“Wands, before I ask you this just know you can decline.” I give her a minute to protest, but she says nothing. ” Can you sleep with me?” Wanda’s eyes widen,

”Y/n/n I don’t think that is a good id-“ I realize what I just said and cut her off before things get even more uncomfortable. “Nonono, Wanda, like lay down with me not any of that gross stuff. Ew.” Wanda’s features fill with relief, and she chuckles at my childish comment about sex.

“Of course I will! You just may want to word it a little different next time.” she chuckles as you hide your face with embarrassment. We both get settled on the bed and I feel her two arms pull me towards her and I snuggle closer.

Non readers pov

Wanda slowly gets out of bed after she is sure you are fast asleep and sets off to find Nat. When she does she sees that Nat had barely moved from where she last saw her still with her face in her hands.

“Nat. I know you think you really screwed up, which you did, but it’s y/n/n. You can’t go on without telling her how you feel about her.”

“Wanda, you can’t just look in my mind! We’ve talked about this!”

“Romanoff you know I’m one to keep my promises, so I’d never look without your permission. Maybe if you turned down the volume of your thoughts a few decibels I wouldn’t have heard anything. Also, are you ready that oblivious to the fact the whole team knows you two are like little lovesick puppies for one another when you two aren’t attached by the hip.” she explains, “Now, stop moping around and apologize at least.”

“You’re right, Wands, wish me luck. I hope she can forgive me.”

Natasha gets up and races towards your room. She didn’t want to wait so long to talk to you and apologize, but she thought you wouldn’t want to speak to her after what she’d said.

Similarly, to Wanda’s entrance, Natasha softly knocks on your door enough to wake you even out of your semi-deep sleep.

Readers pov

I jump at the knocks on the door and am confused to see Wanda is no longer beside me.

“Wanda you don’t have to knock, you know that.” I sigh out.

“It isn’t Wanda.” a voice you are able to recognize as Nat sheepishly speaks.

“Oh, what do you need?” I ask, all the heartbreak and ache coming back when I hear the voice I’m usually excited to listen to, as if her speech is my favorite song.

“Can we talk? I need to apologize.”

“Sure,” I softly reply.

Non readers pov

Nat opens the door once she has your permission and sees your usual strong, confident frame look small and fragile. Her heart breaks at the sight of you so broken and in pain because of her own actions. Not to mention your tear stained cheeks when you look towards her. It is silent for a minute or so before you throw your head back onto your pillow staring at the ceiling. This awakens something in Natasha for an unknown reason.

Readers pov

“Y/n, I am so sorry. I know that sorry doesn’t cut it for the amount of hurt I’ve caused you all because I was jealous but I hope we can rebuild what we had but it totally is okay if you don’t want to even though I would love another chance with yo-“

“Nat, calm down. I’m not going to sit here and say I’m fine with what you said because truth be told I love sharing memories of my family when I remember them with you. Not only because I trust you but because I think I care for you and love you more than friends should. I just hope what you said is meaningless or else that is when we can’t rebuild what we had.”

“No y/n/n, I didn’t mean any of it. It was just in the heat of the moment because I saw you laughing at something a recruit said when I was going to ask you if you wanted to go get dinner with me. So, I stormed off like a child and said hurtful things to mask my selfishness because I want you to be mine and mine only.”

“Oh my god Nat. You can’t be serious, I was laughing at something a recruit said because he assumed Clint and I were going out.” Nat bursts out laughing.

“See? Anyone who was told that who knew me would just die of laughter on the spot.” I say as I glance her way while patting the place beside me on my bed. She accepts.

“So you actually like me?” you hopefully ask.

“Possibly depending on if those feelings are reciprocated.”

“They are.” I say.

“Good. Can I also say how sorry I am for saying that to-“ I cut her off but placing a quick peck to her soft lips.

“Uh, uh, uh” I tut, “I don’t want to hear any more apologies come out of that mouth. Could you just hold me?” Natasha is still dumbfounded by the little kiss.

“Of course.” Nat complies pressing your back to her front as she wraps her long toned arms around your frame. I hum at the contact.

At this moment Nat realizes there is no place she’d rather be as she feels like she has the world in her arms.

#natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #Spotify

[clareguilty]

Coal Fires and Snowstorms

This was a request fic that was originally for the Overwatch cowboy but I changed to Arthur Morgan for... apparent reasons Arthur Morgan/F!Reader (reader also has big enby vibes) Rating: Mature | No Warnings Word Count: ~2,200

Arthur wakes with a wheeze, bolting upright and smacking his chest with his fist as he tries to pull in enough air.

He’s shirtless, but a woven blanket had been draped over him while he was unconscious. A ray of light cuts through a grimy window. The angle is harsh enough that it’s probably late in the evening.

The last thing Arthur can remember is the dark of the night and the clamoring of the law on his heels. So he’s been out for at least a day.

His lips are dry and cracked, and his muscles groan in protest with every movement. God, his head is pounding like he was hit by a damn train.

A door creaks open, and there’s a squeak of surprise. “Oh! You’re awake!”

Arthur blinks in the harsh sunlight that’s streaming into the small cabin. Whoever is there is bundled up in furs and a jacket with a bow over their shoulder. They’ve got two armfuls of game practically swallowing them.

“Who are you? Where am I?” He means for it to sound rough and demanding, but it’s more croaky and pathetic when the words pass his lips.

“I’m not really anybody, and this is my cabin up in Cumberland. The law chased you a long ways from Annesburg didn’t they? You must have done something real bad.” The hunter dumps all the game onto the table and rushes to the bedroll where Arthur lays. “You aren’t hurt too bad or nothing, but you’ve got a real nasty cough. I’ve got tea and herbs that should help. I bandaged up all the bleeding bits as best I could”

Arthur is bewildered. He knows there had been a fire in Annesburg -- the coal had gone up in a pyre in seconds. Somehow, he had gotten separated from Dutch and the others. The smoke had taken him like crows to a carcass, and he was lucky to make it across the ridge with the way his eyes and lungs were burning.

The last thing he remembered was the pinkertons still on his heels and the darkness of the trees as he tried to hide in the brush. He must have made it to cover before the smoke and the soot finally got him.

He flinches as the hunter sticks an open flask under his nose. “Tea. It’s bitter but you’ll need it.”

Arthur sniffs the mouth of the flask, but it sure does just smell like weeds and water. He takes a sip and wrinkles his nose. But the flavor is a small price to pay for the way the liquid soothes the burning in his mouth and throat.

“Thank you,” he says. “You could have left me in those woods to rot. I appreciate you dragging my sorry ass back here.”

You grin and pat the bandage on his arm. “It weren’t much trouble, but you sure are one large fella.” Arthur thinks you must be a young boy -- it’s hard to tell. Your hair is short under your cap but your voice isn’t all that low.

You turn to the game on the table and grab a knife from your belt. “I hunted enough for the both of us the next few days. It’s gonna be a while before you’ve got your strength back, and a snowstorm is rolling in off the Grizzlies anyways.”

Arthur frowns. “Bit early for snow, isn’t it?”

You shrug. “Winter never listens to me. At least the game was out. Everyone is trying to feed as much as they can before it gets too cold to hunt. That includes us.”

Arthur grunts and struggles to his feet. “I can help with those,” he offers.

You watch him with narrowed eyes, obviously skeptical of Arthur’s strength. “Take the small ones,” you offer up the rabbits and squirrels.

Arthur usually doesn’t have a problem skinning game, but the smoke must have gotten to him more than he thought because he finds himself having to take a rest after just a few minutes. He finishes off the flask of tea and sorts through his pack and weapons.

“My horse…” he asks after a while.

“She’s fine,” you say. “I found her not far from where you were unconscious and she helped me get you back here. She’s out back with my Old Girl.”

“Thank you,” Arthur sounds genuinely touched. “She really means a lot to me.”

You shoot him another smile. “You’re nothing but a big softie, ain’t ya? What could you have done to have the law chasing you all the way across the damn country?”

Arthur rubs the back of his neck, flushing in embarrassment. “My folks might have blown up Annesburg? I don’t actually know how much of it is left…”

“Ha!” you bark. “You’re with them van der Linde folks?”

Arthur’s silence is answer enough.

“I won’t judge,” you shrug. “You’re safe as long as you want to rest here.”

And rest Arthur does. He’s confined to the bedroll, rolled out on a warm pile of furs near the stove. You’re good company, witty and friendly and far too nosy for your own good. Arthur learns that you’ve has been living in these parts for a few years now, trapping and hunting and crafting to sell in town every few weeks. It’s more of a living than Arthur could ever ask for. Arthur thinks he might be sweet on you.

It’s another day before he’s got the strength to walk. He makes it outside to his horse, glad to see that she’s well taken care of. You had said you were going off to bathe in a nearby stream, and Arthur follows the sound of the water.

He’s not expecting what he finds. The water is shallow but fast moving, and he sees a familiar jacket hung on a branch by the bank.

You’re turned away, rinsing in the ice cold water, and Arthur can see the gooseflesh on your skin.

But when you turn slightly, it’s the swell of breasts and the curve of hips that catches Arthur’s attention. He averts his eyes quickly, darting back towards the cabin with his cheeks stained pink.

Now that he thinks about it, you had never said that you were a man. Arthur had simply figured it was most likely. The soft voice and gentle features make more sense now.

“You had better wash up if you want to,” you say when you return to the cabin. “The snow is coming in tonight. I can smell it. I stocked up on herbs for your cough and we’ve got plenty of provisions. I’m gonna split some more wood to bring inside.”

Arthur can’t help but find it attractive that you’re so knowledgeable and well prepared. He makes his way to the stream on his own and washes up in the frigid water, pushing through another coughing fit when the cold makes his muscles seize.

It’s already getting colder when he gets back inside. His weak breath fogs even inside the cabin and the little stove can’t do nearly enough to warm the small space.

“You’re going to freeze,” he tells you. He’s big enough to handle the cold -- spent a damn month up in the grizzlies without much of a problem -- but you surely won’t last the snowstorm.

“I’ve made it before,” you say with a huff and a glare. “I’ve got plenty of furs to keep me warm.”

“Put your bedroll beside mine,” Arthur insists. “We can share the blankets.”

The snow begins to fall, sticking to the ground in wet clumps, and you brace yourselves for the days to come. You’re practically strangers -- save for the fact that you had dragged Arthur out of the woods and saved his life. Now you have no choice but to rely on each other until the snow melts.

Arthur wakes in the night to your violent shivering under the blankets. He pulls you so that you’re pressed against his chest, tucking both of you under the quilts closer together. “I thought you said you’d made it through this before?”

You huff, teeth chattering. “I survived. I never said I kept warm.”

“Stay close to me. It’s my turn to keep you alive.” He drifts back to sleep to the howl of the winter winds.

The next morning he’s greeted by a bowl of piping stew that makes his sinuses burn. “I had some jarred peppers I keep for weather just like this. You’re in no condition for liquor so this is the best you’re gonna get.”

Arthur accepts the stew graciously. He’s not ready for the way you stand on your tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek when he offers to wash both of the bowls.

You pass the time snowed in with several rounds of cards. Arthur tells stories about him and the gang until his throat aches and he starts coughing again, and so the you regale Arthur with your life’s tale and a few stories you picked up over the years. You’re curled up next to each other in front of the stove, and you have no shame about burrowing against Arthur in a quest for body heat. He lets you steal as much as you want.

“I thought you were a boy when I first woke up,” Arthur says.

You shrug. “Most people do. I find it makes things easier a lot of the time. How’d you figure me out?” You don’t seem to feel too strongly one way or another about how Arthur and others see you.

Arthur hides his embarrassment behind a cough. “I, uh, caught you washing up in the stream.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s pretty solid proof, ain’t it.” You’re smiling, not shy at all. “You’re not mad at me for lying, are you?”

“You never lied,” Arthur says. “I just came to my own conclusions. Doesn’t matter much to me anyways, whether you’re a man or a woman.”

You frown at that. “Doesn’t matter?”

“Nah,” Arthur ruffles your short hair. “You’re cute either way.”

It’s the right thing to say. The frown disappears and you settle back against him, humming contentedly.

He wakes in the night to the feeling of your breath on his neck. You shift and your lips brush against his skin. He can’t help the way his whole body tenses at the sensation. His arm is draped around your waist, holding you close because he knows you’ll freeze if he doesn’t.

He pulls you in closer. Every inch where your skin touches his feels oversensitive and hot. You’re still asleep -- he can tell from how slow you breath against his skin, but you reach an arm around his neck and burrow against him.

His heart begins to race. He’s flushed and half asleep and you fit against him so well in this tiny cabin that you’ve made your home. One of his hands slides down your back. You moan as his palm passes over the small of your back and the curve of your ass. His hand comes to the back of your thigh, but you shift again and rock your hips against him.

He gasps, then has to fight back a cough. He doesn’t want to wake you, but your quest for warmth has you plastered against him in a very compromising position. It’s starting to make his long johns downright painful, and he thinks he’ll combust in shame.

You rock against him once more, mumbling sleepily into his skin.

“Darlin’” he croaks. But the sound doesn’t wake you. He tries to wriggle an arm between you so he can push you off, but instead he winds up with a handful of your breast, and the most gorgeous sound he’s ever heard escapes your lips.

He freezes. He’s painfully hard now, and you’re still gently rocking against him in your sleep, perhaps even more so now that he’s got a hand on your chest.

“Arthur, please,” you whine.

He’s pretty sure you’re awake by now, so he readjusts his hand and rubs his thumb over the peak of your nipple. You let out another breathy moan against his skin. This time when he runs a hand over your ass he lets himself take a moment to appreciate how it feels under his palm, they way his fingers sink into the soft skin beneath your winter sleep clothes. He once again places his hand on the back of your thigh and pulls you so that your hips are lined up with his, straddling him under the blankets.

You whine against him once more and grind your hips downward. The friction does way more for him than he imagines it must for you, and his vision whites out momentarily at the heat and weight of you against him.

He loses himself in the motion of your hips for several long moments, but then your whines grow frustrated and unsatisfied and he knows exactly what your after.

Gripping both of your hips tightly, he flips you both so that you’re laying back on the bedroll and he’s kneeling over you.

Your eyes fly open.

“Arthur?”

“You were asleep?” he looks absolutely bewildered.

“I thought so? I was having the best dream.” Your eyes look past him as you remember.

“I don’t think you were dreaming, sweetheart,” he chuckles. He leans in to place an open mouthed kiss against your neck. You gasp and dig your nails into his shoulder.

“Then I think you had better keep going, cowboy.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan/reader #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #mild lemons #oranges #i guess #maybe limes

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Headcanon gran was mute in his younger days like the only people who hear him talk was people close to him nana etc. But still a man of few words like hearing him talk was if hell froze over (after nana died he had to start teaching so communication was a must) defiantly know sign language.

I like this headcanon! It fits well with what's been given to us, which is Sorahiko being relatively silent until Nana's dead. Extra notes: From multiple Google searches, JSL is mainly taught to the deaf, and even in the community, there are divisions amongst vocabulary. Japanese Sign Language (JSL) has three forms, and uses fingerspelling and mouthing as supplemental context tools.

This ficlet is in Toshinori's POV because I couldn't quite lock down on when I wanted this version of Nana and Sorahiko to have met.

//

It’s Toshinori’s first time meeting Shimura’s partner, and he is not ready.

He had thought he’d been ready for anything, that first afternoon he chased Seventh Wonder down the path along the canal: a gentle pat on the shoulder before discouragement, derisive laughter, or worse. But against all the odds, Toshinori’s earnest (and frantic) pitch found a willing listener.

Seventh Wonder introduced herself as Shimura Nana three months ago. She advised him on workout routines, and on weekends, she went through grappling maneuvers and recounted stories about life as a pro-hero.

Toshinori hadn’t dared to let himself think Shimura was treating him as anything but a charity case. But last month, Shimura’s stories had acquired a different, almost conspiratorial tone. She also began instilling in Toshinori a rudimentary knowledge of Japanese Sign Language.

(This latter development is blithely reasoned away as dexterity training. As for the former...)

Last Sunday, Shimura revealed herself to be in possession of a transferable stockpile Quirk.

It remains a miracle to Toshinori that Shimura trusts him not only with the knowledge, but also the actual future of holding One for All. Of potentially fulfilling his dreams to lift Japan out of its paranoid, panic-ridden state. Sure, the drawbacks are scary (All for One? Blowing off his limbs?) but Shimura assures him that she has plans.

One of these plans is her partner, Gran Torino.

Toshinori knows practically nothing about the man. Shimura doesn’t gossip, and no matter how Toshinori scoured the Internet, he couldn’t even find a picture. The most he has is what’s on the Nippon Hero Association’s online registry.

Gran Torino. Quirk: Jet. Active for three years as opposed to Seventh Wonder’s nine.

He reflexively slows his pace to the meadow where Shimura trains him, eyes widening at the stranger standing beside Shimura. Tall, imposing, clad in a brown leather jacket and denim jeans and Western cowboy boots. His hair is silver. He is gesturing at Shimura and mouthing in time with his decisive hand movements, but try as Toshinori might, he cannot hear a sound.

Shimura signs back, smoother, until Torino (it’s got to be Gran Torino) disgruntledly brushes his sternum and sets his fists waist-high for a second. A concession. For what problem?

She glances around Torino and spies Toshinori, who is stock-still because he might have been the cause of an argument between Shimura and her partner. She smiles; Torino grimaces with a tight-lipped frown. “Yagi-shonen! Come over here, don’t be shy!”

“Shimura-san,” Toshinori greets, rushing to close the distance. “Sorry if I’m late!”

“Ah, no,” says Shimura. “It’s more like we’re early.”

To Gran Torino, Toshinori executes a quick bow and comes up with his hands fumbling through an introduction. “Good morning,” he says, clumsily spinning and crooking his fingers. He’s learned this. He’s learned this. “My name is Yagi Toshinori. It’s nice to meet you.”

Torino blinks down at him. His expression is unreadable.

Toshinori gulps. “Did I do it wrong…?”

As Shimura hums a noncommittal sound (which is universal for, ‘Well, it could’ve been better,’ which Toshinori is certainly not about to disagree with), Torino critiques Toshinori’s attempt in a single soul-evaporating word.

“Hasty.”

“Sorahiko,” Shimura chides in a fond tone, and she knocks her shoulder into his, friendly and affectionate. Torino exhales through his nose; he shoves back before straightening his spine. The difference between Torino and Toshinori’s height extends.

“Gran Torino,” the man introduces himself in a low, clipped voice. He fingerspells this, and his actual name, until Toshinori crabs onto the impromptu lesson and commits the signs to memory. Once he’s met Torino’s standards, Torino says, “Hn,” before falling silent.

Shimura seamlessly picks up the thread of conversation. “Have you had breakfast yet, Yagi-shonen?”

“Ahahaha,” says Toshinori. “I had a slice of toast?”

“Hm. Well, it’s your lucky day. We haven’t had breakfast yet either! Here, here, take this,” and Shimura hoists a picnic basket into Toshinori’s arms, “and Sorahiko, you’ve got the duffel.”

Unimpressed, Torino signs, “And you?”

“I,” says Shimura, offloading a meter-long duffel bag into his arms and unzipping it briefly, just to pull out a rolled-up blanket, “am picking out a breakfast spot.”

Torino snorts.

The breakfast spot ends up being under a tree; the blanket absorbs the dew leftover on the grass immediately, but Toshinori would be willing to suffer the dampness every day if it meant being gifted a bento for breakfast. The ovular box is filled to the brim. Rice, egg, pickled vegetables, grilled salmon…!

“Shimura-san,” says Toshinori, awed, “did you make all this?”

“Nope! I wasn’t even allowed to touch the pan.” Shimura passes over an additional thermos. Uncapping it allows miso-scented steam to waft away.

“Torino-san, thank you for the meal!”

“Hn,” Torino grunts.

The first few bites are pure, uninterrupted bliss. A good breakfast, however, comes at a price. Toshinori is only halfway through the pickled vegetables when Shimura announces, “Sorahiko is here to help you prep for the entrance exam into U.A., Yagi-shonen.”

“What?”

“They’re increasing the difficulty of the exams,” she informs him. “The physical component in particular.”

“I thought it was just an obstacle course,” says Toshinori, a tad bewildered.

“Ha! That information is outdated by, uh, Sorahiko, when did Recovery Girl complain…”

Torino flashes three fingers, and doesn’t seem to need to add any other signifier, because Shimura gets the answer right on the first try.

“Right, right, three days. So three days ago, Recovery Girl called us up to complain about how her colleagues are reacting to the escalating pro-hero turnover rate. Lots of, ‘we need to demonstrate the reality early if we’re going to winnow out the spineless applicants,’ y’know?”

“Oh,” says Toshinori faintly.

“So,” Shimura continues,”you should expect to walk away from the entrance exam with some bruises. Lots of bandages too. Unless!”

“Unless?”

“I’m right, and having the Gran Torino here providing, ah, supplementary combat training will put you ahead of the legacy students!”

“That’s not… illegal?” It’s one thing to mask grappling maneuvers as play-wrestling in an abandoned meadow, and even then, Shimura was quick to tug them both back onto their feet. It’s a whole other thing to train Toshinori, whose records will show him distinctly unconnected, to beat out his peers.

“It’s a little bit illegal,” she confesses. “But so is giving you One for All, and we can’t exactly do anything about that.”

“I don’t have to go through the heroics program,” Toshinori says, even though he really, really wants to. “You could save One for All until I graduate high school, and then I won’t be a minor.”

Shimura smiles at him like a promise. “If I say you’re getting One for All before U.A., then you’re getting this Quirk and getting into your dream school, Yagi-shonen. You will, of course, be earning it. And then everything is unquestionable!”

Gran Torino clears his throat. Shimura looks over, and her brow furrows in concentration. Toshinori catches a few words by lipreading.

“Questionable relationship,” he signs.

“Ah. Yeah, that’s still true. Can I get away with ‘Shimura-sensei’ without a credential?”

“Flimsy.”

Toshinori has a sudden idea. “Ah, Shimura-san… what if I called you Shimura-shishou?” Hm. That sounds wrong. This is the pro-hero who’s practically giving Toshinori a second chance at life; she is deliberately fixing fate, intending to give a Quirkless kid a Quirk of unimaginable potential. Seventh Wonder, Shimura Nana - she deserves the greatest respect. “Oshishou?”

Her eyes widen. So do Gran Torino’s.

“Ah,” says Shimura, stunned.

“The Nippon Hero Association was talking about apprenticeships,” he reminds her.

Torino signs to Shimura, “How old is he?”

“Fourteen.”

“Less than a year to fifteen,” Toshinori adds. He may or may not have looked up apprenticeship laws. So long as the administration doesn’t pry, then he could just be a scrappy student with civilian origins. And then once U.A. would get into the swing of things, Toshinori would be old enough to potentially be apprenticed.

Not that they would ever sign paperwork. Shimura has been adamant about keeping Toshinori safe, and being safe means his civilian life needs to be squeaky-clean.

“I’m definitely not certified to be a master of this profession,” says Shimura. “Are you comfortable with this, Yagi-shonen?”

“Yes,” says Toshinori. He says it firmly, implacably, trying to invoke the same tone that once persuaded Seventh Wonder to stay on the ground and hear out a Quirkless kid’s dream. “Without a doubt, oshishou.”

She huffs and looks down at her half-eaten breakfast; her ears are turning pink. Silently, Torino reaches over and touches her wrist. Toshinori hurriedly returns to his own meal, feeling like he’s intruding on some moment.

And softly:

“Alright, Yagi-shonen. Alright.”

#bnha #yagi toshinori #all might #torino sorahiko #gran torino #shimura nana #nanahiko but like pre slowburn #shih.txt #asks #thealphabearart #toshinori is too polite to ask why and when jsl became a thing for them #therefore it's up to the reader :)

[demoneyesanddamagedsouls]

Floating

For my dearest @frenchfryfranki​, happiest of birthdays my darling! Please enjoy this Aquarium date with a very soft and sweet Jack Daniels AKA Agent Whiskey. 

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F! Reader

Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF ILY

|| Writing Masterlist ||

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The evening is quiet as you sit in the passenger seat of Jack’s car listening to soft country music play out of the speaker. You rest your crossed arms across the window of his black mustang, watching as the landscape of the city suburbs rushes past, the sun setting in the distance and turning the sky into a vibrant orange, pink and purple gradient. You smile contentedly at the beautiful evening. It was your birthday and Jack was taking you out on a date. You had spent the entire day enjoying time with your family and friends, but you were taken completely by surprise when Jack had whispered in your ear that he had something special planned, just the two of you for later that evening. You had said goodbye to everyone, and Jack had whisked you away, seeming just as excited as you.

Turning to Jack once more you analyse the features of his face, the lights of the highway glimmered in his soft brown eyes, the profile of his nose resting prominently above his mouth, turned up in the corners into a warm and comforting smile, the soft creases in his expression showing off his adorable dimples and the crinkles by his eyes. He notices you staring and flashes you a broad grin. “What’s on your mind little one?”

You match his smile with one of your own as you rest your head back onto the soft leather of the seat. “Just wondering what you’ve got planned for this evening Jack. You’ve been very elusive with the details… Agent Whiskey…” You giggle lightly to yourself.

“Well just know that you’ll like it sugar. I know you pretty well darlin’ and I think I’ve planned a pretty good surprise for you.” His smile broadens and his brow quirks as he looks over to you. You sigh happily as he rests a reassuring palm on the top of your thigh as he continues to steer with his other hand. Whiskey continues to drive as you make your way further out of the city finally pulling up into a large dark carpark. You look over at Jack, a quizzical expression evident on your face. You had never been good at hiding your emotions, Jack always said he could tell exactly how you felt whenever he looked at you. He loved that you were such an open book, and as soon as he looked at you, he burst out laughing. “Have you finally taken me to a deserted carpark in the middle of the night to kill me agent? These past three months of dating was just a cover wasn’t it?” You say jokingly, your tone dramatic and silly as you try to hold back your own giggles.

Once Whiskey had finally recovered from his bout of laughter he hops out of the car and opens the passenger door with his arm outstretched. You wrap your arm around the crook of his elbow as he shuts the door behind you and leads you towards a large building shrouded in the darkness of the night. He takes you to one of the back doors your confusion only growing as he says, “Close your eyes darlin, I want this to be a proper surprise.” You smile as he places his hands over your eyes, “Just to make sure you’re not peeking!” Giggling as he you hear the door open and feel Whiskey lead you inside. Continuing forward Whiskey finally pulls you to a halt. “Ok you can open your eyes now sugar.” You hear Jack whisper softly in your ear as he takes his hands away from your face. Blinking your eyes open slowly you are met with the most beautiful scene laid out in front of you, so pretty it could be the cover of a postcard. You were standing in a tunnel made of glass, surrounded by water and thousands of different sea creatures floating above you. You look up in awe, a huge smile breaking out across your face. Scattered across the floor at your feet was a trail of red rose petals creating a little pathway through the tunnel and further. Whipping around to face Jack you see him standing behind you, hands behind his back as he looked up at you with a nervous smile.

“So what do you think sweetheart… do you like your surprise?”

You don’t know how but your smile gets even wider, so much so that your cheeks begin to hurt. “The surprise was taking me to the Aquarium? Jack I love it…”

He pulls you up to him, a hand on your cheek, and plants a tender kiss on your lips. “I’m so glad darlin.” You both look into each other’s eyes, brimming with emotion. Kissing you gently on the nose, Jack finally breaks the silence, “So are you ready for your private aquarium tour sugar?”

“Am I ever!” The excitement evident in your voice.

The two of you wander slowly through the aquarium taking in every exhibit following his trail of rose petals through the empty halls. You felt like a kid in a candy store, enjoying every single little thing that you came across. Jack was enjoying it just as much but all he could really focus on was you and how happy and excited you were. He loved seeing you like this, full of unbridled joy as you pointed out different things that he just had to see. Constant calls to him as you pulled him along as you walked hand in hand, “Jack you have to see this!... Woah did you know that this species of star fish glows in the dark?!... Oh my goodness look at that one!” You walked from one exhibit to the other, from the coral reefs full of vibrant colours of different flora and fauna, to the touch pools full of star fish, sea urchins, and anenomes. You both put your hands into the water excited as small children to touch the little animals. As you pulled your hands out of the water, you flicked your fingers spraying each other with little water droplets, giggling together. As you laughed Jack grabbed you around the waist and lifted you up as you both continue to laugh together, voices ringing out joyfully in the empty space. He puts you down and you both catch your breath as you grab his hand once more and lead him further through the space.

You continue, both smiling happily as you walk through the other exhibits moving through the coastal waters. You watched as the seals and otters frolicked through the water or rested together in the waning light of the evening on the shore of the enclosure. You let a small aww leave your lips as Jack pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. Continuing along you reach the deep-sea area with colourful luminescent jellyfish and camouflaging fish, looking around the tank eagerly all of a sudden the face of a shark appears out of the darkness and you jump back scared, nuzzling your face into the centre of Jacks broad chest to hide. “What’s wrong sugar?” He says looking down at your eyes worry evident in the furrow of his brow.

“I really don’t like sharks Jack, they freak me out!” You say, voice being muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckles lightly as you look up at him with doe eyes, melting him in an instant. He lifts the black Stetson off of his head, revealing the soft fluffy brown hair beneath, slightly tousled after being under the hat all evening. He slowly lowers it onto the top of your head and as he does it slips over your brow. It as just a little too big for you. He chuckled as the hat fell onto the bridge of your nose, all he could think was that you’d never looked more precious. “Is that better darlin? You can’t see them now and they can’t see you. Alright sweetheart lets get you out of here then, shall we?” You nodded lightly, the hat wobbling on your head slightly at the motion. He took your hand in his and slowly steered you out. You finally came out into the open, slowly taking a deep breath of the cool night air. Jack leaned down to you and lifted his Stetson off of your nose so it rested lightly on the top of your head. “There you go little one… much better.” You both chuckled to each other at the situation feeling giddy once more at his romantic gesture. “I think you look even better than I do in that hat sweetheart, and that’s saying something.” He smirked at you, a cocky glint in his eye.

Swatting his arm lightly you rolled your eyes. This was the silly cowboy that you had head over heels fallen for, the sweet and the ridiculous. All rolled into one. Reaching out his arm once more you took it and began to follow him down the flight of steps around the back of the building. Watching your feet as you went you slowly began to hear sloshing waves as you rounded the corner. Looking up you saw the shoreline of the ocean right in front of you, another part of the aquarium but out in the open. Your mouth dropped open for the second time this evening at the beauty of it all. The moon shone brightly giving the waves a beautiful white glow, the sound of birds rustling as they settled for the night.

“One last surprise my love.” You looked over to where Jack had walked to, the platform of the aquarium that jutted out over the water, where a beautiful picnic was laid out. Candles and fairy lights surrounding a red and white checkered picnic blanket, a small wicker picnic basket full of your favourite foods and a smiling cowboy, with the biggest grin resting underneath his scruffy moustache.

You had never been so happy in your entire life. You run over to him, one hand holding onto the black Stetson resting atop your head, and the other quickly wrapping around the back of Jacks neck as you jump into his embrace. His arms wrapped around your waist once more as he lifted you up to his height and pulled you into the softness of his lips. You kiss him back passionately, both holding onto each other closely as you conveyed every last ounce of joy you felt, being here, with him, in this moment. Finally breaking away from him you looked up into his soulful brown eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “I love you Jack.” You whispered as your eyes started to well up. He gently brushed a stray hair that had fallen across your face back behind your ear.

“I love you too sugar. Happy birthday.”

Permanent Taglist: @pedrohoe04

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x y/n #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x y/n #fluff #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #fic club

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 24: Something Was Off- Agent Whiskey

Day 24: Something Was Off - Agent Whiskey 

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader (Apple) 

This prompt was requested by @littlevodika​. Thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy this continuation of the Whiskey/Apple relationship. 

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff​ @josepedropascal​ 

This is part three, you can read the other two parts below. 

Part 1 (Day 1 Heartbeat)  Part 2 (Day 8 Dot, Dot, Dot) 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 23: Whispers - Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear how much I love you. So please don’t take my sunshine away…” Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels serenades the small bundle in his arms. 

All swaddled in a pink blanket, Magnolia Daniels eyes droop and a small smile graces her sweet little face as she watches her daddy sway to the music. The sounds of his deep velvety voice and his warm chest lull her into sleep. 

Jack places a kiss on her forehead before laying her in the bassinet beside your side of the bed. He crawls back into bed and wraps his long arms around you tucking you back into his chest, and sighing. “Thank you,” he whispers, “that little girl and you are my entire world,” he kisses your head gently before drifting back off to sleep. 

Maggie makes her presence known several hours later when she wakes with the sunshine and begins to fuss. You lift her from the bassinet and pull down your sleep shirt, putting her to your breast to suckle. You close your eyes to get a few more moments of sleep when you feel eyes on you. 

You slowly open to see Jack watching you both with rapt attention. This has always been his favorite part of you becoming parents, he loves to watch his daughter eat. “That is a sight I will never tire of sugar,” he croons at you. 

After you switch and she finishes he eagerly scoops her up and burps her against his shoulder. Dipping down to kiss you sweetly, “you sleep mama, I will make breakfast for us, and then we can get going.” 

You smile and nod watching the former playboy of Statesman babble nonsense to his infant daughter. So much had changed since you found out you were pregnant. Jack had resigned from fieldwork, only working on training new recruits. You had cut back on your hours in the weapons design lab. Both of you in favor of spending more time with your precious girl.  

In the six months since she had been born you both hadn’t left her side but tonight for the first time that was going to change. Uncle Tequila was going to give you both a much needed night out while he watched his goddaughter. 

Tequila had been your best friend since preschool and had even recommended you for the job at Statesman. He was the most supportive friend you could have asked for and loved little Magnolia almost as much as you and Jack. He doted on her endlessly and never failed to show up with some toy or trinket for her from his travels. When Jack had asked him about watching her you were pleasantly surprised and Tequila was ecstatic. 

It took a few days to even prepare for going out with pumping extra milk, but the idea of a few hours alone with Jack was too good to pass up. You drifted back to sleep dreaming of a romantic night out with your boyfriend. 

When you later roused from sleep it was to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon. You shower and get dressed quickly before walking into the living room and sweeping your daughter into your arms. She giggles and holds your cheeks before pulling tightly on your hair. You look up and see Jack with a big smile on his face as he watches his two favorite girls. 

The rest of the day passes uneventfully as you handle the daily chores, nap time, diaper changes, tummy time, and feedings. Jack is always there to help with everything, and before long Uncle Tequila is at the door holding a small wooden maraca. 

“I was in Spain last week and had to get something for my Maggie Moo,” he coos at the little girl whose eyes brighten at her favorite Uncle. 

You kiss him on the cheek, “thank you Tequila for watching her.” 

“Anything for my sweet goddaughter. You’re prettier than a Magnolia in May,” he tickles her gently. 

You run to your room and change into a white sundress with bright yellow sunflowers on it, brown cowgirl boots, and your jean jacket. Coming back out to see Jack dressed in his cowboy boots, dark jeans, maroon button-up, black leather jacket, and trusty black stetson. You take a moment to appreciate the fine broad specimen you had acquired. Damn, he is too sexy, words don’t do him justice. 

“Sweet Jesus sugar, you are the most beautiful woman to grace this earth,” he pulls you close and plants a kiss on your lips. Giggling as he turns toward his daughter, “isn’t your mama beautiful?” he questions kissing her cheeks before giving her to you. You kiss her and hug her close before giving her over to her Uncle. 

“Now you remember, the extra milk is already bottled and in the fridge, and all the important numbers are on the fridge, and we can be reached if you need anything just call ou-” 

“Apple! Go out with Whiskey, I got this.” Tequila pushes you both out the front door locking it behind you. 

“Did we just get kicked out of our own apartment?” you point back towards the door and then at a laughing Jack. 

“It would seem so sugar. Come on,” he grabs your hand, “I have something special planned for tonight.” 

“You’ve been very hush-hush about this night out...what are you planning Jack?” you question. 

Jack only smiles before helping you into the Bronco. You pass through the city lights of downtown Kentucky. The penthouse where you lived was close to Statesman but not exactly where you had imagined raising your children. 

You drive for another thirty minutes before you turn off the highway into a less populated area. Something was off, this didn’t seem like a normal night out with dinner or a movie, you were out in the middle of nowhere. 

You pull into the driveway of a ranch-style house, the nearest neighbor half a mile down the road. You slowly get out the bronco, “Where...where are we, Jack?”

He says nothing only leads you to the door and unlocks it pulling you inside. The house is gorgeous, a mix of farmhouse and craftsman style features. Large vaulted ceilings with wooden beams and cherry hardwood floors. He flicks on a light and in the middle of the floor is a blanket, pillows, and a picnic basket.

He leads you over to the set-up and pulls you down to sit against him as he pours you each a glass of Apple Whiskey a personal favorite of yours. “Jack...this is incredible...but, what is all this?” you gesture to the space around you. 

“Well as of three o’clock yesterday this is our house sugar,” he holds your hand lightly.

“You...you bought us a house?” your eyes brim with unshed tears. 

He nods, before standing to pace the room. “I...I know how much you hate living in the city and Magnolia needs space to run and grow in the great outdoors. The whole property is five acres, with plenty of space for us. There’s even a small apple orchard outback. I...I wanted to make a gesture to tell you how much I love you, and how much I want to be with you.” 

“Oh Jack,” you rise to your feet and pull him down to kiss you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, your forehead resting against his. “I love you so damn much Jack Daniels.” 

“This is one more thing...I bought for the house, I feel like every house deserves a good door mat. Why don’t you go look at the one I picked out.” 

You laugh, “I don’t know how the mat can compete with this house but I am eager to see what you picked out,” you walk over to the door and look down. 

Daniels Family Est. 2021 

The air is knocked out of your lungs and you spin to find Jack behind you on one knee. “Oh my god…” you whisper. 

“Agent Apple, weapons guru of Statesman, mother of my beautiful Magnolia, and the love of my life. I will love and protect you forever with everything that I have darlin’. I want to live in this house with you, have more babies with you, laugh, make love, and grow old with you.” Tears swim in his eyes as he pulls out a small ring box and pops the lid revealing a silver ring with a princess cut emerald surrounded by a circle of diamonds. 

“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asks. 

“YES!” you shout dropping to your knees and kissing him, “yes, Jack a thousand times, yes!” 

He slides the ring onto your finger, and you admire it. The moment is interrupted by the shrill sound of the cell phone. Jack pulls his out and answers on Facetime. 

“Did you ask yet?! Did she say yes?!” Tequila begs holding up a giggling Magnolia up to the screen. 

You laugh, “YES! I did say yes!” 

“Yahoo! Did ya hear that Maggie Moo your mama and daddy are gonna get married!” she squeals and claps. 

You look up at Jack and smile, this was your family and you couldn’t wait to make him your husband. 

#kingsman golden circle #November writing challenge #jack whiskey daniels #Agent Whiskey #Agent Whiskey x reader #agent tequila #Day 24

[honey-dewey]

Rodeo Romeo and Agent Juliet

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Kingsman Reader

Word Count: 2,118

Warnings: None

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

Jack was never a fan of classic literature, but when Agent Juliet comes in from Kingsman for the annual Statesman Holiday Gala and immediately calls him the ‘Rodeo Romeo,’ he may be a little bit, okay a lot, in love with the totally off limits woman. What he doesn’t know is that darling Agent Juliet is just as deep in it for her beautiful Rodeo Romeo. Expect many references to Shakespeare, and I promise no one dies at the end.

Author’s Notes: Based off a wonderful post by @pedrocentric that cursed me into writing 2,000 words in a day. I love you for the stab of inspiration I was given. 

The Statesman annual holiday gala was, in Jack’s words, a fancy pain in the ass. It was an excuse to get dressed up and horribly drunk, and while he knew his night would end in some beautiful woman’s bed, he didn’t want to go through the actual gala to get there. 

“This is bullshit,” he decided firmly, adjusting his hat and mask. Every year, the gala had a theme, usually pretty vague so people could get creative. This year, the theme was masquerade. Jack, at Ginger’s request, was wearing his usual tuxedo that he wore to every gala, his hat, and a gorgeous black mask with intricate silver details. It was a pain in the ass, but he had to admit, the mask made him look really good. 

“I know,” Ginger reassured, tying her own delicate golden mask. “But as two of the more involved agents, we have to attend.” 

Jack sighed. “Anyone new attending this year, or will it be a familiar crowd?” 

Ginger reached over his chest and readjusted his bow tie. “Kingsman is coming. Eggsy, Harry, and I think they’re bringing a new agent. Agent Juliet? They’re rebranding to have classic literature names instead of Arthurian legend names. Something about inclusivity, I think.” 

“Yeah well,” Jack mumbled. “I was never a fan of classic literature.” 

They left the room together, ready for the music and the lights of the party. It was a bit more toned down from last year, with quieter music and gentle lights. Plenty of Statesman agents filtered around, along with some of their business partners. Jack did what he always did at these parties. Started his night off with a glass of whiskey and went right into flirting with some pretty thing in a tight rose colored dress. 

“Heads up,” Ginger said behind him, sliding up to the bar as Jack’s rosey target walked away. “Kingsman’s here.” 

Jack turned, seeing the familiar two Kingsman agents he’d tried to kill. In his defense, he hadn’t been right in the head, and they’d both forgiven him. Apparently holding grudges wasn’t the Kingsman way. 

“Whiskey,” Eggsy greeted as he walked up to the bar. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“I could say the same about you,” Jack said smoothly. “Who’s the lady?” 

Standing by Eggsy’s side, chatting happily with another woman, was the prettiest lady Jack had ever seen. Delicate features barely hidden behind a midnight blue and silver mask, Jack traced down perfectly shaped lips lined in dusty pink and a beautiful silver necklace that laid across her collarbones perfectly. Her dress was a soft looking midnight blue, all flowing fabrics and cinching at her natural waist with a silver belt. The heart shaped neckline and semi-sheer sleeves lay across her skin in a way that made her look, in a single word, like a goddess. 

“This is Agent Juliet,” Eggsy introduced, nudging Juliet forward. “Jules, this is Agent Whiskey.” 

Juliet scanned Jack from top to bottom, her brows knitting a bit as she thought. 

“Oh!” She finally exclaimed. “Is this the one who couldn’t flirt for shit?” 

Immediately, Jack almost choked on his drink while Eggsy laughed out loud. “Yeah!” He said. “Something like that.” 

Juliet smiled. “From the looks of it, I’d say he’d a regular rodeo Romeo.” 

Just like that, Jack was deeply in love with her. The way the corner of her mouth quirked as she gave him the nickname, the way her hands clasped in front of her, the look she gave him. It was enough to ruin the newly christened Rodeo Romeo. 

“Jules?” An unfamiliar man came up, sliding a hand around Juliet’s waist. “Who’s this?” 

Juliet sighed, a deep and unsatisfied sigh as she shifted the man’s hand off her hip. “Darling, this is Agent Whiskey. Agent, this is my boyfriend, Agent Paris.” 

And with one word, she had broken his heart. Jack drew a breath in, an action that went entirely unnoticed by everyone but Ginger. She put a comforting hand on his arm. “It’s wonderful to meet you Agent Paris. Jack and I are going to see if we can’t find Champ, I’m sure you’ll want to meet him.” 

Jack nodded halfheartedly as she pulled him off. Suddenly, he wasn’t very happy about meeting the new agents. 

———

You sighed, watching Agent Whiskey get dragged away. He seemed so nice, and his brilliant brown eyes were so deep, you could’ve easily gotten lost in them all night. Instead, your boyfriend had to walk up, ruining the moment. 

“Babe,” he said, kissing your neck, much to your disgust. “Want to dance?” 

“No thanks,” you said sourly, hoping he understood your tone as you walked away, heading towards the bathrooms. 

Sliding down the wall, you sighed, adjusting your shoes so they weren’t so tight, and finally abandoning them altogether. 

“Knock knock,” a familiar voice said, knocking on the bathroom door. “Can I come in?” 

Unlocking the door and allowing Eggsy to slide in, you smiled, seeing him holding two drinks. Accepting one and immediately swallowing down the soda sweetened liquid, you collapsed back against the wall. “Fuck me Eggsy, I hate him.” 

“So break up with him,” Eggsy said plainly, joining you on the floor. “You’re an adult. Tell him he sucks complete ass and run right into the strong and manly arms of your cowboy Romeo.” 

You punched his arm playfully. “Firstly,” you said. “It’s rodeo Romeo. And secondly, I am not in love with Agent Whiskey.” 

Eggsy raised an eyebrow at you. “Yes. You are.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are to.” 

You burst into laughter. “We sound like children,” you realized. “What was in that drink?” 

“A bit of whiskey, some coke, a few ice cubes,” Eggsy recited. “Now go get your man.” 

Rolling your eyes, you stood and smiled. “Maybe I will.” 

You headed off to the balcony, intent on clearing your head. It was barren, the cold weather deterring most from braving the outside. You sighed, leaning against the railing and looking out at Statesman’s garden. It was beautifully kept, with fields of trees you assumed grew fruit in the warmer months. 

A rustling broke you out of your thoughts. Looking down, you saw Jack wandering the gardens, his mask still on. He looked up, seeing you and smiling. “Ain’t this like, a big part of your story?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” You said, leaning over so you could see Jack better. “She’s wondering why he has his name, because that is the only thing preventing their relationship.” 

“Yeah I was never into Shakespeare.” 

You gasped. “Really? Romeo and Juliet is an undeniable classic! Hold on, I’m coming down, and when I do, you are in for one hell of a literature lesson.” 

Hurrying down the stairs and into the gardens, you met Jack under the balcony. “I cannot believe you’ve never read Romeo and Juliet,” you grumbled to yourself. 

“I never said that,” Jack said. “I’ve read it.” 

You smiled, following his aimlessly wandering feet. “It was Shakespear’s greatest comedy, a work of absolute genius.” 

“Back up,” Jack interrupted. “Comedy?” 

“Yeah, comedy,” you said. “Shakespeare was incredibly, well, I don’t want to say he was anti-love, but he wrote Romeo and Juliet to poke fun at couples who said they were soulmates. After all, Romeo and Juliet spanned about three days time from start to finish.” 

You continued to go into detail about the intricacies of Shakespeare, wasting away a good portion of the night. Jack was an excellent listener, occasionally asking a question that sent you on a tangent, but always quiet and respectful while you talked. 

Finally, when the clock tolled twelve, you two headed back to the gala. 

“It was nice getting to know you,” you said softly, not wanting to enter the building again. “Agent Paris is kind of a jerk about me talking to other men.” 

“Oh my god, is there any redeeming thing about him?” Jack asked. 

“Not that I can tell.” 

Jack took your hands. “So break up with him. Find a man who’ll treat you right.” 

You stared deep into his eyes, into the depth and complexities he kept hidden behind a deceptively simple brown color. “A man like you?” 

Jack didn’t respond. Instead, he cupped your cheek and kissed you, molding his face to yours and satisfying that craving that had building in you since Paris. 

“Jules?” 

Jack broke away, sliding out of sight so quickly you had to wonder if you’d only imagined him. Eggsy came up to you, confused and a bit concerned. “Jules? Are you okay?” 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Never better.” 

That night, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The ghost of Jack’s lips kept waking you, until you were forced to pull a robe on and open your balcony so you could get some fresh air and hopefully clear your head. 

Settling on the stone and leaning your forehead against the railing, you stared out into the Statesman stables. “Romeo, Romeo,” you said, mostly to yourself as a comfort. “Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet.” You had memorized large portions of the story in order to keep yourself calm during Kingsman training, and even now, the familiar passage eased your troubles.

At least, until someone responded. 

“I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo.” 

You stood, looking out at the stables. Standing there, lit by the light of his phone, was Jack.  

“Are you reading that off your phone?” You asked, a laugh bubbling in your throat. 

“You’re getting the lines wrong!” Jack called back, coming closer so you could hear him properly. 

Laughing, you leaned against the railing and stared at Jack. “You kissed me earlier.” 

“You’re still getting the lines wrong.” 

“Jack!” You said happily, unable to not laugh. “I’m serious!” 

Jack’s grin was obvious even from your distance. “I did kiss you earlier. Are you mad about it?” 

“No.” 

“So shall we make love like your namesake?” He asked. “Run away and get married after having known each other, what, a few hours?” 

You shook your head. “No. Because then we’d both have to die.” 

Stepping closer, Jack shrugged. “Yeah, that would throw a wrench in my plans to woo and marry you.” 

You yawned, and Jack smiled. “Does the lady need her beauty sleep?” 

You gave him a very ladylike middle finger. “Goodnight Romeo.” 

“Goodnight my fair Juliet.” 

The next morning, you went out for a walk with Eggsy and Paris, walking by the stables and admiring the horses. 

“Juliet!” 

You turned, seeing Jack atop a beautiful black horse. He rode with ease, as if he’d been doing it all his life. “Fancy seein’ you here,” he said. “Y’all sticking around?” 

Eggsy shrugged. “Jules wanted to stay for a bit. Airplanes make her wonky, so we’re leaving later tonight.” 

Jack’s face visibly fell. “Aw damn. I liked having a beauty like you walkin’ around.”!

“Leave off,” Paris said, wrapping you in his arms. “She’s taken.”

“Might wanna reconsider that one,” Jack said with a wink. “What’d’ya say Juliet? Wanna take a ride with your Rodeo Romeo? Saddle’s got room for two.” 

You didn’t even hesitate. Squirming out of Paris’s grip, you eagerly jumped the fence and joined Jack. “Just as long as we don’t die at the end.” 

Jack helped you up in the saddle, kissing you long and hard. “Well, like I said, I’m not one for the original story anyway.” 

He rode off with you, leaving Paris and Eggsy behind. Holding you tight as he jumped a fence, he continued out, beyond the orchards and the buildings, until you two had reached a small, run down church. 

After helping you off the horse, Jack pulled you inside, where there was light and warmth. 

“You’re really not helping our horribly cliche love story,” you said.

Jack raised an eyebrow, pulling you down onto a couch and wrapping you in his arms. “Am I? It’s been such a long time since I read Romeo and Juliet.” 

You laughed. “Clearly. Although this is very close to the part where they both die.” 

“And we definitely aren’t doing that, right?” 

You nodded. “Definitely not.” 

Jack looked around. “One day,” he said decisively. “I’m going to marry you. Right here, in this church. I promise.” 

Smiling, you pressed a kiss to his nose. “Sure you will Romeo.” 

Three years later, he asked you to marry him. 

You, as if it were any question at all, said yes. 

After all, how could you say no to your Romeo?

#kingsman the golden circle #kingsman #agent whiskey #jack 'whiskey' daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

[introverted-scribblings]

Thanks for answering my question :) I’m Jas! I was wanting to see if i could get a creepypasta matchup. This is probably gonna be pretty long since i’m awful at being consice ahhhh i’m so sorry in advance

Here are the key points, and I go into more detail about each one below!

~ Non-binary, Masc leaning

~ Pansexual, Male preference

~ 5’2”, 95 lbs (i’m scrawny)

~ Scorpio Sun and Moon, Pisces Rising

~ black hair, pink bangs, overgrown bowl cut

~ anything artsy, video games, going outdoors, collecting beer bottles and cans, child psychology, true crime, and bumblebees

~ ADHD, Autism, and Tics

~ Best Friends first, datemates second.

~ I’m super affectionate and giving. I struggle with jealousy a bit though since I can get protective but i’m working on it.

~ My family and dogs are a priority

Me and my Clothes >>

Im Nonbinary, and pansexual (male preference). Im a scorpio sun and moon with pisces rising. I’m around 5’2” and about 95 lbs. I’m pretty gangly (not tall, just gangly) and thin. I’ve got golden brown eyes that are round. My hairs naturally brown, but atm it’s black with baby pink strips in the bangs. My clothing style fluctuates from goth bimbo to cowboy to 2003 emo kid. One day i’m in a whole eboy outfit and the next ive got my boots on with blue jeans, at shirt, and a flannel. Chances are I’m gonna steal my partners clothes so uhhhh hope they have extra lmao

Mental Illness Bingo >>

I’ve got pretty bad Autism and even worse ADHD (if you haven’t noticed already lmao). I’m pretty forgetful and im also awful at picking up serious tones. if you say something that sounds slightly mean, chances are good i’m gonna get defensive. or cry. or both. Blunt communications important. I tend to stim a lot when I feel any strong emotions (negative or otherwise). when i get tired and/or cold my tics act up, and I pick up tics from other people pretty easy. My main stims are chewing on things (usually food), shaking my hands, whistling, and hitting my knuckles/wrists together. My main tics are shivers, whistling, meowing (don’t ask), and hitting my chest.

Relationship >>

In a relationship, i need it be best friends first, dating second. Having a strong emotional connection is important to me. They need to understand my boundaries as a friend before we go beyond something more. I need someone who acknowledges and understands that i’m not stupid— i just struggle with expressing myself verbally. It’s not that i forget the words (in fact i probably have the sentence I wanna say in my head) it’s just most of the time, it won’t come out of my mouth. Normally i end up trying to get my point across with agressive stutters and hand motions. That’s why *calm* communication is important to me. I need to be able to just take a minute by myself and collect my thoughts and calm down before i have a meltdown because nothing i wanna say is coming out. I’m fine if they are more touch repulsed than i am, however, i would like to at least be able to hold their hand.

Goals, Family, and Dogs >>

I’m very protective of my siblings. I’m the oldest to four, work in a kindergarten classroom, and I’m also student teaching in preschool. Protecting kids is both an instinct and a job that I don’t take lightly. My dogs are equally as important to me. I have 2 dogs that are my own, and we have 2 family dogs. My dogs are Legion, who is a 9 year old chocolate lab, and Gambit, who’s a 8mo GSP. Gambits in training to be my psychiatric service dog so he’s always with me when i go places. Plus, at the very least, Legion will sleep with me every night. Gambit normally wanders in at some point too. Both of them are massive cuddle bugs. I need someone who not only likes dogs, but is cool with them being with us. I won’t have them all of the time, but they’re still a very vital part of my day-to-day routine. My goal in life is to own a farm and my own preschool! I grew up in a really shitty place so I want to open an affordable preschool so kids can get a good education and it will provide job opportunities. I want cows and chickens and sheep and pigs and goats on my farm- the whole shbang. Having someone who is good with a huge farm and a million dogs is super important.

Thank you so so so much! I’m sorry this was so long :,))

OMG I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! T^T

I've been going through such bad burnout lately, I'm so so so sorry! I'm a little rusty with match ups so my apologies if this isn't up to par with my usual work. I tried to include everything and used my best judgment when matching you! Again, I'm so sorry this took so long... I hope you enjoy this anyway!

I match you with...

~Hoodie/Brian~

Okay hear me out-

Brian is a very laid-back and patient man. He’s a bit of a goofball and is there for a good time usually.

You said you need to be friends first? Not an issue! Brian is perfectly fine with taking things slow.

After catching his eye, he would want to get to know you better! He would want to be close to you!

His goal is to be someone you can trust and rely on.

He doesn’t view you as stupid in the slightest! He knows what stupid is and you certainly aren’t that.

He would also be the first to jump to your defense should anyone, and I mean anyone, refer to you in that manner.

When you’re struggling to speak or frustrated with your thoughts, he would hold your hand and wait. Reminding you that it’s okay and he’s still listening.

Like I said, he’s a patient man.

When you’re ready to take your relationship to the next level, he’d be so happy! Happy because you trust and love him enough to let him into that part of your life.

Now, he didn’t say you could steal his clothes… but is that really going to stop you?

Brian is like 6 foot something so you would be swimming in his shirts and hoodies.

Any time he sees you wearing his clothes tho, he fucking melts. 100%

When it comes to your varying styles, he’s supportive of whatever you put on. Which is great for self-confidence, but difficult when you’re trying to pick an outfit.

He thinks you look good all the time! Cut him some slack.

When it comes to mental illness, he’s more understanding than you’d think. I mean… he works with Tim/Masky and Toby so…

And while he doesn’t know all the details, he’d be willing to learn more about it for you.

He’ll ask questions. And you’ll have to explain some things to him.

But he’s a fast learner, so you’ll only have to explain things once and he’ll get it.

Work together and you’ll get through that just fine.

I think he’d find some of your stims and tics kinda cute (but that might be because he finds you cute). And unless you’re hurting yourself, I don’t see him having a problem with it.

If someone brings it up in a negative way tho-

Scratch that.

If anyone makes you upset in any way, shape, or form… he will slaughter them on sight.

He would be very protective of you, no doubt. You’re his precious S/O after all.

When you tell him that your family is important to you and that it’s a top priority, he’d want to meet them.

If they’re important to you, they’re important to him.

And while you are his top priority, he wouldn’t hesitate to protect your siblings if that’s what you wanted.

He loves your dogs btw. He is such a dog person.

Would 100% be okay with having one or seven dogs at any given time.

Overall, he’s a very supportive boyfriend. His goal and priority is making you happy and keeping you safe.

He’ll go at your pace, he’ll have the patience of a saint, he’ll be as understanding as you need him to be.

The only thing he’ll ask is that you’re the same with him, as he’s not perfect and he’s fully aware of that fact.

But he loves you, and he reminds you of that every day.

The song I pick for you two is:

“Fool” by Cavetown

#match ups #match up exchange #creepypasta matchups #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #headcanons #imagines #creepypasta x reader #x reader #x you #x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x y/n #fluff #fluff headcanons #creepypasta hoodie #hoodie x reader #brian thomas x reader #brian thomas #marble hornets brian #marble hornets hoodie #i'm so sorry this took so long

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

Impress Me

Jake Jensen x Single Mom!Reader

Warnings: Language, Porn Mentions (Use of MILF) Summary: All you wanted was to go to your daughter’s soccer game and an couple of assholes took their damn time to get rid of their abnormally large hummer. The driver happened to be a bit attractive and end up your way again.

Nothing like a nice Jake Jensen fic for all you beautiful people out there! 

This is a true story that happened yesterday, the guy parked like an asshole with a large hummer and to tell you, our town is not a big place so there is no point on driving a large vehicle to show off chicks. It ain’t cool.

Unless you’re Jake Jensen and/or Chris Evans

You were rushing around the house, searching every room for the item that had been missing since. Your daughter, Ava, couldn’t stop asking for it. It was important for her game. “Mom, have you found them yet?” She shouts from the living room. You groan at her last and final shout as you lifted yourself up from looking under the bed.

“No, Ava!” You sighed, “You sure you didn’t leave them at grandma’s house?” Your sister comes in and she already had your daughter’s duffel bag. “The game doesn’t start in another hour. You can stop at the sports shop and get new cleats.”

You groan and turn to see your daughter and sister. “Okay. Sweetheart, I’m gonna grab you new ones, okay?”

Ava pouts, “But I loved those shoes.”

You roll your eyes, “Ava, just this one time, okay? After this, we can call grandma. Do you remember what size you got?” Your sister looks at you strangely while your daughter crosses her arms, “As a mom, shouldn’t you know that?”

You nod awkwardly and turned, “Yeah, um, Liz, can you take her there? I’ll meet you guys there.” Your sister nods and reaches for your daughter, “Come on, Ava. Let’s go.” Your daughter follows your sister out and you let out a sigh. Taking another look in every room, searching every crevice and no sign of your daughters shoes.

And they were neon yellow shoes, you could’ve saw them anywhere with the bright highlight. 

With that said, you took your keys and hopped in the car. Luckily the sports shop was not that far from the field where your daughter would be playing at. Your sister kept you updated that Ava’s shoes weren’t in her car or the bag. You knew they had to be at your mom’s house.

Maybe at your ex-husband’s house. Shit. Not long ago, you filed the papers. It was nothing involved with your daughter. You both started to fade apart. He wasn’t rude or a penniless guy. There was something you both knew it wasn’t gonna keep up.

Especially for Ava, you both shut down for some reason.

After that, you had custody for Ava but she always visited her father 5 times a month. Soccer was coming from her dad. He taught her everything and he signed her up for soccer. He still supported her. You liked him for that.

He came to games if he could. His work always got to him, but he always made plans for Ava. You just never saw yourself having a future with him no more. But for Ava. Of course.

You pulled into the parking lot just in front of the store, seeing people go in and out of it as you rummaged in your bag for your card and you lifted your sunglasses on top of your head.

You stepped out and rushed in, asking the worker where the soccer shoes were, he happily took you over. Shin guards, soccer balls, jersey’s, you found the cleats just on the end. You almost bump into a couple of men in the aisle. One of them let out a ‘woah’.

“Sorry,” You say kindly, the man grins, “You’re good, ma’am.” The three other men, one wore a cowboy hat, one with a grey beard but looked intimidating and a taller man who look twice as much. A woman happened to be with them as well. 

“Pooch,” The beard man says as you raced down the hall, the man turns, “What?” The two men shook their heads at the guy. “Have you guys seen Jensen?” You ignore their conversation and searched the right size of shoes. You spot the ones that looked like your daughter’s.

You reached up and take them in hand, immediately running back to the cashier. You reached for your phone and see a text from your sister. They’re already stretching on the field. You groan and did all your swiping and pin code. Not taking your receipt, you ran out the door.

Coming to a stop once you met the front of your car, you groan. 

A hummer parked next to yours. “How am I-?” You throw your arms up and sighed. You hear someone come by and they head to the hummer. “Excuse me,” You ask, the man turns and jerks his chin up. “Yeah?”

You point, “Is this your hummer?”

The man turns to the large car and nods, “Yeah?” You point toward your car, this time, “I can’t get in my car. Can you park somewhere else?” The man walks up to meet your side and see the problem. He then points, “I’m in the line, so I don’t think it’s a problem. Just squeeze through. You look small enough to do it.”

You gawk at him, “Excuse me?”

The man holds his hands up, “Sorry. Just hop in your passenger seat and slide in-”

“Just move the damn hummer!” You say, the man laughs and reached for his chest. “I have friends inside, can you just wait for a couple minutes. They’ll be out in a second.”

“I’m in a rush! My daughter has a game!”

He nods, “I can see that. I can go grab my friends and I’ll move the hummer.” You would’ve kicked the front of his car, pull the crowbar that hadn’t been used for a situation like this from your trunk and go psycho. All you could do was throw your arm up, “Fine. Asshole.” You walk to your passenger side and threw your purse in the back.

You start to lean in till you lifted your head up to look at him again, “You know, this town doesn’t feel impressed by your huge ass vehicle. It just makes you more of an asshole.”

The man puts his hands on his hips and quirks a grin, “I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. But I’m glad you kept me informed about it.” You hopped in the passenger seat and would’ve been in the most awkward situation when the man watched you slide your ass into the driver’s seat. 

You sighed heavily, turning on your car and stared at the man. You look down to the center console and saw your drink. Your eyes lifted up to him.

You rolled your window down and grabbed your cup. “Hey, asshole!” You called out, the man and held the cup out. “How’s this to impress you?” The man’s face drops when you open the lid.

“No, wait-!” You dump the drink over the side of his hummer and you threw the cup on the floor of your car and pulled out. The man reaches for his head and drops them to look at you. You didn’t look back. But hell, did it feel good. Never in your life ever stood up like that for an asshole. But why the heck did he look good? 

He groans to see the liquid drip down the side of the hummer as his friends come out.

“Hey, Jensen, you ready-? Woah, what happened here?” Pooch asks, seeing the spill on the door. Roque sighs, “Who’d you piss off this time?” He asks, Jensen shook his head and opens the door. “Just shut up, we’re gonna be late for my niece’s game.”

The group look at each other and gave questioned looks before jumping in.

“Mom!” Ava calls, you rush over to her and sat her down. “Here, let me help,” You got down on your knee and began to slip on her new shoes, tying them and making sure they were a perfect fit. You thanked God they did. Ava grins, “Thanks, mama.”

You grin and nod, “You’re welcome. Now, go have fun.” Ava smiles, jumping onto her feet to head on the field with her team. Her pink jersey with the number 5, you loved seeing her in her jersey. She sometimes wore it around the house and knew how passion for soccer. 

You always saw your ex-husband in her.

Somewhere in the bleachers, someone was bursting out in laughter before slapping the man’s shoulder beside them. “You pissed off a woman for not moving the hummer? You really are a dick-”

“Hey, some people should be able to use that rock in their head that they call a brain,” Jensen says, glaring at Pooch. Cougar leans over, “Roque’s right, though. You really made a dick move.”

Jensen shakes his head, turning to the field to see his niece out in her pink jersey with the Petunias. He sees another girl run for the group and playfully tackles his neice making him grin. His eyes seemed to follow where the girl had ran from, seeing a familiar woman on the sideline. 

“Shit,” He grits.

Pooch turns, “What’s up, now?” Jensen leans back a bit and inhales, “She’s here.” All three men, Pooch, Roque and Cougar look around. “Oh, shit! Where? Is she cute? Hot?” Pooch asks.

Cougar used his binoculars and spots her. “Hey, she’s the girl Pooch was flirting with.” Pooch glares, “What? I was not! Give me that!” He snatches the binoculars and looks down. “Oh yeah...” He says, seeing you walk up to the bleachers. 

“That’s her?” Pooch asks, staring at Jensen who shook his head. “What a coincidence that her daughter is friend’s with my niece.” Roque pats Jensen’s back like a proud man, “A mom? Is she single?” Jensen grimaces at him. Pooch cackles, “Ah-ha! This man got himself a MILF-!”

“Can you guys shut up? We’re at a kids game!” Jensen shouts, the parents around the group glare at them, causing all of them to shut up for a second. Jensen leans back to the boys, “I don’t know if she’s single. What I do know is that you all are thinking the wrong thing.”

Roque chuckles, “You turned red the second you saw her-”

“You know, I’m gonna move down,” Jensen began to stand up and move while Roque grabs him before he could. “Ah-ah. No, you aren’t. You’re watching her,” He says, Jake shakes his head. “I’m not watching her. What do you think I am, a freak?”

“Be sure to wave,” Roque waves over to you and Jensen turns to see your face look over and he immediately leans back. “Roque, dammit!” He grits. Luckily you don’t notice Roque waving as you turned away and spoke to your sister. Pooch purrs, “Ooh. She’s got a friend.”

“Guys, can you cut that out. The game is about to start.”

You sigh in relief and watched your daughter run to the sideline with her group. Your sister turns to you, “What’s up with you?” You turn to her and furrowed your brows. “What?”

She grins, “Look, your daughter’s out there and that Hummer asshole is not gonna bother you anymore. Just let it go.” You shook your head and saw that the game began to start. With that, you quietly watched the game and cheered when the Petunias made a goal.

.

Halfway through the game, the Petunias were in the lead. Ava was on a roll and you were proud of her. The other team looked defeated but the kids were all tired. You were sure Ava was tired as well.

You watched as Ava took the ball from the other team causing you to jump up. “Yes!” You shout, “Go baby!” You watched as the other girl beside her runs to her side.

Roque touched Jensen’s shoulder and pointed, “Look.” Jensen turns to you on your feet, cheering. Jensen looked out to the field and saw what had to be your kid. She had the ball, but then he noticed his niece run up and collides with your daughter. “Oh!” His boys all say loudly as the two girls fall on the field.

Jensen stands up, “I gotta-Hey!” Your sister stands up as you rush down the bleachers to your daughter on the ground. The coach blows her whistle. “Ava! Hey, are you okay?” You asked, your daughter nods while you look to the other girl.

Number 21. 

“Hey, sweetie, you alright?” You hear clamoring behind you, a man runs up to what may be his kid. “Hey, you alright?” He asks, he lifts up his head to see you. Your sister runs up, “Excuse me? Your daughter needs to watch where she runs-” You stammer toward your sister yelling. Jensen furrows his brows, “She was trying to help! The field is slippery, I saw her slip.”

“Liz-”

“Well, tell your daughter to watch her footing,” Your sister grabs your daughter’s shoulder and guides her to the bench. “She’s my niece, actually,” Jensen adds. You watched him as he nods once, “Hi. Nice to see you again.” You turn away and followed your sister to have Ava sit down for the rest of the game.

Jensen checked on his niece and made it back to his friends, Clay was laughing. “Wow, that was a scene to watch.” Pooch cackles, “Her sister was feisty. What’d she say?” He asks. Jensen sits down and looks over to you and your daughter. 

Going back to watch the game. Luckily the Petunias had won and Ava was feeling a bit better after she hit her head pretty hard. With enough water, you took your daughter’s gear and packed it up. 

You settled Ava in the back of your car, “Wait, mom,” She says, stopping you from closing the door. You nod, “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot my bottle at the bench,” She says. You look over to the field, seeing a couple of people leaving and packing up. You gave her a nod, “I’ll go look for it. The air is on so you can stay cool. I’ll be back.” Ava nods as you closed the door and made your way back to the field.

Everyone seemed to be gone and emptied the field for you to be able to search for a bright blue bottle.

You checked the bench where you last sat, you peer up on the bleachers to see water bottles, other things but not your daughter’s water bottle. You sighed till someone spoke up.

“I’m assuming you’re looking for this,” A familiar voice said, you turn to see the hot blonde guy you dumped your whole drink on his hummer. He grins, eyes squinting from the sun shining in his face. “Your daughter is number 5, I saw her little name on the bottom of the bottle with her number. I thought I’d have to chase you or meet you at another game.”

You take the bottle into your hand and grinned slightly, “Thank you.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and you held the bottle tight in your hands. He nods, “Not trying to impress you with my charms, this is just being nice for you. You seem kind of out of it today.”

“Yeah, I-...” You shake your head, “I’m sorry I dumped my drink over your car. I was just stressed from the past week and-” 

He lifts his hand up, “It’s all right. I understand. I know a thing or two about chasing soccer gear for family.”

You grinned, “She’s your niece?” Jake turns to his niece down the field with his buds all cheering for her, he nods. “Yeah, my sister is on a business trip. I know how passionate my niece is with soccer. Your daughter is one tough player. She took the hit like no other. I’d see them cry after.”

You smiled, “Yeah, well, she gets it from her father.” Jensen didn’t notice a man with you during the game. Was he the type to not make it? So much for making a move by Roque’s advice to apologize and ask you out.

“Didn’t make it?” He asked.

You peer up at him in question. He lowers his head, “Sorry.” You look down at your daughter’s bottle and sighed. “He only sees her 5 times a month.” Jensen glances up to you again. “Makes it to a couple games and he spends time with her on the field to practice,” You say.

Jensen nods and turns to see his friends were gone. He turns back to you and grins, “Can I take you back to your car?” You didn’t know this side of this guy. And hell, you felt even more bad on how this guy was nice but can be such an asshole sometimes.

He was like no other.

You agreed and walked back to the lot with him, “The name’s Jensen, by the way. Jake Jensen,” He says, you look over, “My friends call me by my last but you don’t have to.”

You pull the corner of your lip and nodded, “I’ll decide on it.” Jake smiles at you and the two of you look forward to see the same hummer beside your car. Just like last time. Jensen curses under his breath. Roque opens the driver door and peaks out.  “Aye, Jensen, what took you so long?” He asks, a huge grin forming on his lips. Jake turns to you to see the silent glare as he nods, “I’ll move the hummer this time.” You grin.

“You better.”

You watch as he rushes over to the front seat, pushing Roque into the back. He rolls his window down and pulls out, giving you the chance to hop in your car. With a small grin, you opened your car door. Jensen grins, “You know, if you really wanted to impress me, you find the day to go out!” He says.

You lightly laugh and shook your head. “I’ll see you at the next game, Hummer boy.” Jensen rolls the window back up with a smile as you hopped in your car. Your daughter completely confused.

“Who was that?” You turned on your car with a small smile, “A new friend.” Ava leans back in her seat and looks out the window, nodding. “I like him.” You hear from her, causing you to look in the rear view mirror to see her eyes look out the window. You then pull out.

“You asked out a single mom?” Pooch asks, he pats Jensen’s shoulder, “Way to go, man!”

“Hummer boy? Looks like someone’s got a nickname,” Roque laughs making everyone in the car laugh. Jensen shakes his head, “It was a joke, now shut up, I’m driving.” Through the rest of the day, his buds teased him, pushed him around like he was the young guy in the group. 

Here comes the comments for part 2

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[haloud]

two-body problem

Michael and Alex have been tiptoeing around their new relationship, afraid to break the ice if they step too far too soon, but what starts as a light game--Michael teasing Alex at the bar--turns into something far more.

A malex getting-back-together fic. [rated e]

read on ao3

-

Alex wrapped his lips around the neck of his beer bottle and took a furious swig.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Maria said, slamming two new bottles down in front of him. “I thought you guys were done avoiding each other! Take these over to him already, stop moping all over my nice clean bar.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” Alex protested, only to be silenced by a withering look.

“You’ve been sitting here for over an hour watching him throw himself all over the pool tables trying to get your attention. Either you’re making him wait on purpose, or you’re completely clueless. Either way, I’m putting myself out of your misery.”

“He isn’t—”

“Oh my God, Alex Manes, not only do I have intimate knowledge of Guerin’s flirting tactics, but I am literally psychic. Go!”

The Pony’s dim yellow lights, half halogen half neon, gave the bar a smoky quality, a twilit mystique that swirled and eddied with Michael’s movements. To any other bystander, he may not have been the center of the room, the center of light, the single solid point around which the cosmic symphony pivoted, but to Alex he was all those things and more, and also the bastard who’d spent the better part of two hours draping himself over flat surfaces in soft, well-worn jeans and a t-shirt that kept riding up, smirking at everyone he talked to, running his fingers around the edge of his glass and licking condensation off his thumb.

Bastard.

Alex stalked away from the bar and around the perimeter, staying out of Michael’s line of sight as he lined up his next shot and let it go with the satisfying clack of billiard balls together. He wasn’t wearing his hat, sparing Alex that much of his infuriating cowboy magnetism, but that only meant he had full view of those curls. For the hundredth time that night, Alex raked his eyes over Michael’s body, from his wild hair to the broad shoulders beneath his jacket to the curve of his ass in his old, well-worn jeans—there was a fraying hole right in the crease of his thigh, worn all the way through so the white of his back pocket poked out a little—down his long legs to his boots.

As he watched, Michael stuck his ass out on his next shot, tongue fixed between his teeth. Clack, and then Michael straightened up again, glanced over his shoulder to the bar…then slumped like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Looking for someone?” Alex said, stepping up onto the dais.

Michael whipped around, head and chest pointing Alex’s way faster than his feet could keep up.

“Alex!”

“Well, you found him. Did you…need something?”

Alex dragged his eyes the length of Michael’s body yet again, taking his time, letting Michael feel eyes on him: the thing he’s been baying for so loud and needy all night. And Michael goes still under Alex’s watchful eye, only leaning back against the pool table to give Alex more to look at.

The suggestion is that Alex could step forward, slot a thigh in between Michael’s legs, lean past him to take the cue and take a shot of his own. His heartbeat would pound through his shirt when Alex’s chest pressed to his chest. His hair would tickle Alex’s cheek; his breath would be hot and gentle and quick on Alex’s ear.

“Well?” Alex prompted, leaning away instead, quirking an eyebrow and tilting his head.

“Uh-h, uh…”

He could drag this out. Make Michael squirm the way Alex has been squirming since he dropped in to say hi to Maria and get a drink. But Michael was entirely a tomcat who didn’t know what to do with a bird once he caught it, and his cheeks flushed pink so prettily already, and Alex was tired of waiting.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

There was no need to check behind him to see if Michael was following; his feet clomped clumsy and eager after Alex, close enough to his back to feel the heat radiating from him. They stumbled out into the parking lot, Alex dragging Michael, hand clamped around his wrist, Michael leaning and letting himself be dragged, laughing all the while, a double-ended physical pull on the both of them.

Across the gravel lot, past the pools of streetlight, Michael’s warm body pressed him into the cold metal of his car with a desperation that Alex could only echo back to him, yanking him in as close as possible with grasping hands on his belt, in his jacket pockets; he gasped when his cold fingers hit the bathwater-hot skin of Michael’s neck, scrabbling up into his hair to twist and tug and cling as they kiss. In the midnight cold, he was so hot, scalding every time Alex’s tongue dipped inside his welcoming mouth, branding everywhere their skin touched.

“Unhh-“

Their hips ground together, pushing groans from each of their mouths into the other. Michael had been teasing Alex for hours, but he was the one hard and aching behind his zipper. Alex shoved his hand down between them to rub at the bulge in his jeans

Soaking in him in sips like this wasn’t enough. Alex needed to bathe in him, to breathe him in like steam, to drown.

He tightened his grip on Michael’s hair to pull him back and away from his neck and gasped, “Let’s get out of here.”

Michael scrambled to agree, hauling himself into Alex’s SUV as soon as he pushed off from the door and hurried around to the drivers’ seat, catching Alex’s keys with his TK when he dropped them. By the time they had the car started and Alex peeled out of the parking lot, both of them were cracking up with laughter.

A zipper buzzed from the passenger seat, making Alex jerk his head away from the road for just a second, just long enough to see Michael take his dick in hand and give it a stroke, hissing as the freezing air hit his overheated, sensitive skin.

“What are you doing?” Alex demanded, grabbing his own crotch to relieve the pressure.

“I’ve been aching for hours, I just need…”

“And whose fault is that?”

Michael whined, and Alex whipped a glance at him again long enough to register his eyes going even more blown and black.

Alex seized the moment. “You can hold yourself, but you don’t get to jerk off until I’ve got you where I want you.”

“Aye aye, Captain…”

As strangled as his voice sounded, when they stopped at a light and Alex chanced another look, Michael had his eyes closed, head tipped back in the golden shaft of a streetlight, broad hand gripping his cock, thighs tense but body loose and lax against the seat. In the bare light, his mouth was red and swollen, and his breath steamed the window in even curls as he controlled his breathing.

His zipper buzzed again when they hit Alex’s driveway, and he was out of the car and heading for the door before Alex had the car off. He followed at a more leisurely pace.

They were on his turf now. Michael could claw at the door all he wanted, but he wouldn’t get inside until Alex let him. He’d do whatever Alex wanted—and right now, Alex wanted to kiss him again, walking forward until he couldn’t anymore, Michael’s body trapped against the door, legs falling open as wide and slack as they could and keep him standing.

Once upon a time, Alex wouldn’t have trusted Michael’s trust in him, would have doubted it or doubted himself and turned it away no matter how much Michael twisted and turned and begged. Those days—weren’t past, entirely, everything was a work in progress, but—

“Open the door. With your powers,” Alex said, biting and sucking his way across Michael’s neck.

He dug his fingers into Michael’s ass to hold him steady, bending him back when the door swung open, Michael’s fingers clinging helplessly to the front of Alex’s shirt, soft, hitching cries muffled into his shoulder. Alex nipped sharply at his ear to scold him for the hiding, kneading his ass roughly—Michael’s back bowed to press their bodies together, one of his legs hooked around the back of Alex’s, entwining them—one of Alex’s fingers caught the hole in his jeans, and he slid it inside, hit skin, dug his nail in, and even through two layers of denim felt Michael’s cock twitch at that one bright point of pain.

“Inside,” Alex panted. “Bedroom, now.”

“Fuck yeah.”

Alex didn’t bother turning any lights on until Michael was in his bed and underneath him and he jerked at the lamp-pull to light him up. He was even more gorgeous close-up than he was across a crowded bar; even more gorgeous when Alex had him all to himself than when he was in public, out of reach. Alex shucked off his own jacket and undershirt before attacking Michael’s jacket—and froze when he had it open and recognized what Michael was wearing.

“Is this…my shirt?”

The yellow-and-navy plaid—he hadn’t seen it in a while and figured it was lost in the back of a drawer somewhere. But here it was, on Michael’s body, and Alex—

“Yep.” Michael popped his lips at the word and chased it with a hazy grin. “Don’t know if I can pull it off like you can—” he slid one hand up Alex’s stomach to his chest, and Alex caught it in his own, pressing it against his skin.  “—But what do you think?”

With his other hand, Alex toyed with one of the buttons, all the desperate heat fallen away, nothing but gentle adoration left in its place. It was too easy to imagine the shirt dropped or flung away, fallen down between Michael’s bed and the wall, left and forgotten until Michael fished it out and kept it, wore it.

It was an unforgivably lonely thought. Even if Michael only meant to tease now.

Alex lifted his hand up to his mouth to kiss his fingers, lingering over once-broken knuckles, then cupped it against his cheek and leaned into it, his favorite feeling in the world, those hands so rough but so gentle against his skin. Michael’s face was as impossibly soft as Alex felt.

“I think,” Alex said, “You should take your pants off.”

Michael obeyed quick and easy, popping open his button and fly and shoving his pants down one-handed, but he couldn’t get them all the way off with Alex pinning down his thighs. His cock was still half-hard and bobbed forward, and he gave himself a couple strokes. God, he was a sight. Tousled hair bronzing the pillow, red kiss marks decorating his skin, naked except for Alex’s shirt, cock red and aching, and for the first time it really sank in that all night Michael had been strutting around commando, peacocking for Alex’s pleasure.

Still one-handed, Michael plucked open the buttons of his shirt, but when he lifted his shoulders to shrug it off, Alex let go of his other hand to use both his own to press him back down.

“Leave it on.”

Alex flicked the halves of his shirt open and just drank in the sight of him for a moment before stroking both hands down from his collarbones, over his nipples, over the planes of strong muscle to grip his hips.

“You put on quite the show for me tonight. Do you think you have to work that hard to get my attention?”

“Just wanna give a satisfactory performance,” Michael purred, shimmying his hips as if testing how far Alex would let him go.

To stop his squirming, Alex jerked him closer, hard. He slid across the sheets and between Alex’s legs, shirt rucking up behind his back; Alex raked his nails across his treasure trail—Ah!—and said, “You don’t ever have to perform for me.”

“I—”

“Never.”

Michael’s eyes, wet and gold and dilated-black, looked up at him through clumped-up lashes, under a furrowed brow, and his mouth popped open, then shut again. In place of a response, he arched his hips up to grind against Alex’s still-clothed groin, biting his lip in a way that just begged for more.

And Alex would give it to him.

He swung off straddling Michael to stretch out beside him instead, taking pressure off his knee, then hauled Michael’s leg over his own hip and knocked his hand away from his dick to replace it with his own. Face-to-face, Alex had to kiss him again, licking over his bottom lip, their mouths moving together for long moments before they fell apart again, Alex rolling his thumb over the tip of Michael’s cock and making him gasp.

“What do you need?” Alex rasped into the hot space between them. “What had you putting on a show tonight? What do you need from me?”

“I—I—”

“Anything.”

“Just—you. Everything. Whatever you’ll give me. It’s been…”

“Too long.”

“Y-yeah.”

Their relationship, fragile and new and older and stronger than bedrock, still moved in fits and starts, and they’d been more friends than not for the past few weeks as they tried to work this thing out between them. Too long. How long had it been? How did they make it so long, and why?

Frantic to make up for wasted time, Alex kissed him again, stroking his cock faster. “I need you too,” he gasped, words so simple, base, vital they tore out of him, and he released him on the upstroke to reach back to rub at his hole, see how far Michael wanted to go tonight—

“Michael.”

His fingers hit slick. Michael’s ass was wet with lube, hole slacked like he’d been fingering himself on and off all night—he’d need more, but Alex wanted to torture him with it, suddenly, spend all the remaining hours of the night working his fingers in and out of Michael’s body, slow and quick and hard and gentle until Michael was sobbing and coming dry.

“Wanted to be ready for you,” Michael said, grunting when Alex breached him with a fingertip, rolling his head against the pillow. Alex palmed the scruff of his neck, rubbing the tense muscle there. “I kinda thought I might get you to haul me off to the bathroom of the Pony. Stuff of wet dreams ‘n shit.” He gasped again, hips flexing forward and back like he was already getting fucked, even as Alex just traced the pad of his finger in a circle. “Or maybe I just liked it—open and ready for you in the middle of a crowd—you could just bend me over and mmmnnn…”

He dissolved into a moan as Alex pressed one finger in inch by inch, into his blazing-hot core.

“I like it too,” Alex said. “Fuck, Michael.”

It was hard to breathe, hard to think with the heat and smell of Michael all around him. Alex had no grace left in him as he tried to haul his own pants off; Michael might’ve helped with his powers a little bit, nearly whimpering with need for skin on skin. When he was naked, Alex took both their cocks in hand and stroked them together, devouring Michael’s mouth again and again until they dissolved into sloppy breathing, hearts pounding side-by-side, eyes open to watch each other.

“I want you to fuck me,” Michael blurted.

“Yeah? Good. Good, I want that too,” Alex said, rubbing Michael’s back, pressing them even closer together. “Get the lube out of the nightstand for me.”

He did, and Alex drizzled it over his fingers and reached back to rub at his hole again, two fingers this time, stretching and thrusting and fucking into him. Michael’s eyes finally slipped shut, mouth falling open, losing himself in the sensation, shuddering when Alex stroked his prostate, thighs trembling around Alex’s hips.

“Michael—”

“Ah—ah—ah—ah—”

“So good. You’re so good.”

They shifted together so Alex could line up and push inside him. The angle still wasn’t perfect—Alex rolled his hips and without better positioning or better leverage couldn’t manage more than shallow thrusts—but he wasn’t willing to move, wasn’t willing to be anything other than face-to-face, eyes locked on Michael in rapture, fluttering behind his eyelids, tongue between his teeth, every tiny shiver of muscle.

“What do you want?” Alex said. “Tell me more. Tell me everything. I want to hear it.”

Instinct bound them together from the start—instinct, gravity, with or without intention, the same force that held the stars in their positions in the heavens—but the words were something newer, a muscle that needed working, and all Alex wanted was to work. On this, toward something better.

“I want—I want—”

“That’s it.”

“I want to be yours,” Michael cried, the words clawing their way out of him and latching onto Alex, Michael curling his fingers into Alex’s skin, holding on so tight. “I want to stay here with you; I want you to keep me—”

Alex’s thrusts stuttered, rhythm of his hips broken like the rhythm of his heart, wild and uncontrollable. He wrapped a hand around the back of Michael’s neck again, squeezing tight, pulling him in, burying his face in his shoulder to whisper in his ear.

“I will. I promise you, I will.”

Michael’s voice cracked. “Alex…”

Curling around him, Alex didn’t answer and focused on fucking him, pumping pleasure through his body every way he knew how, Michael’s nails in his back, sweat curling at his temples. Alex brought him off with single-minded focus with his hands and mouth and cock, until Michael broke over his name again and came onto his stomach.

Michael’s muscles clenched around him when he pulled out, his nails tightening in his skin, too, his eyes still desperate when Alex flopped onto his back to breathe the cooler air above them, each exhale punctuated with a little laugh. It took a minute or two before Michael laughed with him.

“Fuck me,” Alex chuckled. He was still rock hard, but he just wrapped his hand around the base and ignored it for now, until he’d made sure Michael was okay.

“Uh, other way around,” Michael laughed, scooting closer to tangle their legs back together. Alex hadn’t even gotten his prosthetic off. More importantly, though, Alex reached for him, massaging his thighs as the aftershocks rolled through him, until the shaking stopped.

“Are you okay? We got a little more intense than I expected.”

Michael nodded, enough to assuage any actual fear Alex felt, but he didn’t elaborate. He rolled onto his back and lifted his knees to his chest and said, “Talk later. We’re not done yet.”

“If you’re too sensitive—”

“I’m not.” Michael reached for Alex’s cock, and Alex hissed when his calloused, warm hand closed around him. “I want you to fuck me. Use me. Come in me. I want you.”

Well-fucked and flushed, he was even more gorgeous than before, Alex’s shirt splayed open, hanging from his shoulders, his hole on display by his lifted hips, red and open and eager. Alex sat up, moved over him, bent to kiss it just to hear Michael yelp. The taste of lube was more than worth it for the high, babbling noises Michael made as Alex laved his tongue against that well-used skin.

Then Alex sat up and pulled Michael’s hips into his lap, legs falling open around him, and fucked back inside, thrusting hard and fast, splaying one hand out across Michael’s vulnerable stomach, pushing up to twist his nipples (--Ahn!--) until he had both hands curled around his shoulders, inches from where his lifeblood pumped in his bared throat.

Michael bit his lip, so “Let me hear you,” Alex gasped, kneading the sweat-slick muscle in his hands. And Michael did, opening his lips and throat on a throbbing whine, a sound of pure pleasure, pure sated need, that more than anything else, more than the tight, hot muscle gripping his cock, more than the beautiful, pliant enthusiasm Michael bled, had him coming deep in Michael’s body with a few more artless pumps of his hips.

When Alex pulled out a second time, Michael let out another groan, grasping for Alex’s hip like he could hold him still, hold him inside even a moment longer, but Alex laid out next to him again instead, cuddling him close, cupping his chin in both hands to kiss him.

Every line, every hair, every pore and freckle on Michael’s face was precious. Alex scattered kisses across his eyelids, across his cheeks and forehead. He had nowhere else to put the love too great to fit inside his body; there was nowhere else it belonged.

Minutes later, when they both could speak again, Alex repeated his earlier question. “Are you okay?”

With postcoital clarity, Alex twinged a bit with doubt at the marks he’d left all over the canvas of Michael’s body. Loving that fiercely, losing control when Michael gave up his own, freeing the thing in his chest he’d spent a lifetime starving and caging…it was new. And not something he’d expected out of tonight when Michael was just being playful at the bar trying to rile him up.

“Never better,” Michael rasped. His lidded eyes glittered every bit like they glittered in the sun in the back of his truck when they were seventeen and Michael made him feel like the only boy in the world who was loved.

“Yeah?”

Alex traced his fingers up and down the line of Michael’s spine. He needed to get a washcloth to clean Michael up, take care of him, but he wasn’t ready to move yet.

“Yeah.”

“It—I—wasn’t…too much?”

“Never.” Michael lifted himself up on one elbow so he could leverage himself even closer; he twined their fingers together and pulled Alex’s in. “I didn’t know the night would end like that either, but, hey, chemicals reacted, baby.”

Snorting at Michael’s sleazy smirk, Alex said, “Okay, dork.”

“You love me.”

And abruptly, Alex was serious again. “I do.”

At that, Michael hesitated, like Alex thought he might. His eyes dropped away to the vicinity of Alex’s chest.

So he repeated, “I do, Michael. So much.”

“I love you too.” His eyes flickered back up to Alex’s and away again.

“And you can trust me,” Alex blurted. “I know I haven’t always been trustworthy in the past—”

“Alex, no.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not torturing myself with it, I just…know. But I-I want to be worthy of the things you want from me. Please don’t be embarrassed for wanting them. Or for saying them out loud. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, actually.”

Michael finally relaxed as Alex babbled, and the visible release of tension from his shoulders loosened the knot in Alex’s chest, too.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Because—it’s all true. Every, uh, every humiliating bit of it.”

“It’s not—”

“Shh.” It was Michael’s turn to interrupt with the reassurance. “It’s kind of embarrassing to tell your not-quite boyfriend that you want to be kept.”

“It’s not. Not to me.”

Alex lowered his eyes, and he slid his hand from the back of Michael’s neck around to the front. Carefully, he watched his own thumb roll little circles against the apple of Michael’s throat, and as he watched he pushed down gently.

“There are so many ways I want to keep you,” he said. He felt Michael gasp, air passing under his touch to reach Michael’s lungs, oxygen to his veins. “You might not like all of them.”

“I would,” Michael spoke, the vibrations buzzing through Alex’s fingertips and up his arm. “I would. I do.”

His hand circled Alex’s wrist, a warm, loose manacle holding his hand steady, not pulling it away. Slowly, Alex fit all his fingers around Michael’s fragile throat, holding him in every vital inch, not squeezing, only applying the slightest pressure so Michael could feel him.

Michael’s head lolled back, weightless, giving all his trust over—it was as heady as the scent of rain and musk soaking off Michael’s skin—Alex drank it in and got drunk on it. Something out of Alex’s worst nightmares turned into something even more powerful in the gentleness it required. Only Michael made him feel like this; only Michael was himself and every hurt he’d ever felt living and shielding and loving outside his body, and vice versa. A binary system.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Alex said, raw. “I don’t want to be a not quite anything, anymore. I want us to figure this out together for real.”

He let up even the tiniest, barest pressure he’d exerted, but he left his hand where it was.

“Not quites are old news,” Michael agreed fervently. “Half-assess and past tense, too. I’m in if you’re in. All in.”

Alex nodded, even though they were so close together it made their foreheads tap, adding a silliness to the gesture that brought a smile to Michael’s face, and Alex fit his thumb into the line beside his mouth it created.

“I’m all in. No more sleeping apart. No more wondering if we should call or text. I never don’t want to hear from you.”

“No more second guessing or avoiding each other at the grocery store so it doesn’t get awkward.”

Alex winced at that, and at himself. “You noticed?”

“Your handsome face can’t hide behind a soda tower, babe.”

“Damn.”

Laughing, Michael said, “And more asking for what I want, no more trying to provoke you in our friend’s bar…”

“I don’t know…” Alex grabbed his ass hard enough to make him yelp. “Maybe we can give that one another go sometime.”

“If Maria doesn’t make my life a living hell laughing at me for it, that is.”

“Only then, for sure.”

Alex rolled Michael onto his back to kiss him again, pinning him to the bed, where they intended to keep each other for a very long time.

#malex #malex fic #rnm fic #michael guerin #alex manes #my fic #rated e #for e-motional sex #my brand