#I might actually mess with giving him some cowboy boots for some of his other outfits lmao

[roses-for-rosalyn]

Cowboys

Ellie x reader

Part 1

Summary: a trip to the local saloon? With a man?!

Wc: 2.1 k (shorter ik sorry)

For the ao3 girlies

Cw: cowboy! Ellie x fem! reader, drinking, reader gets drunk, Jesse (just a little side character), mentions of domestic violence, reader has trauma!, reader has scars, lesbian touching and yearning, lots of talking

Minors DNI (fr)

Seriously there’s some descriptions of abuse here y’all I tried to keep it vague, but it’s important I promise! I am not the kind of author who gives the reader trauma for literally no reason. That being said if this isn’t your cup of tea I’ll see you in another chapter or different fic!

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK

You wake up with the sun. The warm light forced its way through your eyelids, refusing to be ignored. You got up and attempted to get dressed as quietly as possible. You use the reflection of a steel pan to pin your hair back.

You liked the mornings, normally you were very alone, but even with company, it was a peaceful time. Golden light filters through your windows, everything and everyone is still beginning to wake up. It’s quiet.

A face appears behind yours in the reflection of the pan.

“Mornin.” Her voice was a bit low and gravelly.

“Mornin, where are you off to today?” You finish flattening out the last little stubborn hairs and turn towards her. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, and bruises had begun to form on her face, but with the way she carried herself, you would never know what happened last night.

“Was thinking of going to the next town over, I have a few people to talk to.” You grab your boots from the floor and sit in the same wooden chair Ellie had last night. You try not to think about how close you were or how warm she felt against your fingertips as you lace up your shoes.

“You’re lucky you have that bandana.” You stand up and grab the hem of the fabric. “You’re a bit of a mess.” You pinch her chin between your thumb and forefinger and force her to turn to the side, and for some reason she lets you. You turn her the other way, inspecting the intensity of the bruises. “These’ll be gone in a week.” You brush your finger over a particularly deep purple bruise on her jaw, she flinches a bit even at your featherlight touch. “This one maybe two.”

“Whatever you say doc,” she replies with a laugh. You let go of her chin and head towards the door.

“I have to go, but you’ll be back before dark right?” Ellie just nods and you leave, hoping that she does actually come back.

** **

Today when you’re locking up the schoolhouse you hear a different voice, “Hi there, sunshine!”

You turn around and see Jesse. You usually didn’t see him at this time of day. He walks towards you like he has something to say.

“What’re you up to today?” He asks with a charming smile on his face.

“I was just going to head home and have dinner. How about you?” You really didn’t care to hear his plans for the day, but you had to be polite.

“I was hopin’ you might accompany me to a show at Buckhorn tonight?” His eyes are hopeful, he reminded you of a little boy, he hadn’t had the same life you did. You had really hoped you wouldn’t have to deal with him asking to court you, not completely sure you could manage to say no. You didn’t have a good reason for refusing, and who knows what he would say about you if you denied him.

“Um, alright, I suppose I could go. I can’t stay too late though, I don’t like ridin’ in the dark.” You manage a smile. Jesse looks like he is just barely keeping himself from jumping up and down in celebration.

He nods, “I will make sure you get home safe and sound darlin’. Suppose we should head on over then.” You untie your horse and take her by the lead, walking beside Jesse to the saloon.

You didn’t have much to talk about, the conversation was mostly small talk. You let him ramble on about his journeys to Santa Fe, the Apaches he’s encountered, hostile cowboys, thieves. No one ever actually threatened him, just passed by, but with the way he told the stories you would think he would be covered in scars and bruises.

You finally make it to the saloon, Jesse orders you both whiskey. You down it like a shot and Jesse seems surprised, but not appalled like you would have expected. “You want another?” he asks with raised eyebrows and a laugh.

“Yes please.” You smile up at him, a little more genuine. Maybe you could have fun, with enough liquor in your system you could get along with anyone. Drunk you was charming, magnetic, bubbly, men usually tolerated that a little better. Plus the drinks were free.

The band starts playing and you pull Jesse out on the wooden dancefloor. The music pulls at your limbs. As you dance with him you feel smooth as water, the more you drink the smoother you feel. Soon enough you’re leaning into his chest, swaying to the music. The night went by in a blur. You are at the bar getting another round of drinks when you see a familiar set of eyes appear at the entrance.

She makes a beeline towards you, shouldering people out of the way as she approaches. Her eyes look angry, but all she does is brush her hand down your arm like she was making sure you were real.

“I couldn’t find you.” She says, and you swear everything and everyone else melts away as she speaks.

She was looking for you.

“I was here.” You say with a drunk smile, relieved to see her. “With Jesse.” you point over to him. She doesn’t even bother to look. You lean in towards her to whisper, “He’s pretty boring, but he gave me free drinks.” you hold up a glass of whiskey as proof, slightly swaying with the movement.

“I’m gonna take you home.” She says gently.

“That would be very nice, I’m sure Jesse wouldn’t want to take me all the way out there. Just let me go tell him.” You haven’t stopped smiling since you saw her.

“Alright,” she nods, “I’ll be waitin’ for ya by the door.”

You stumble over to him, “Jesse, I gotta head home.”

“Ok let me go get my-”

“No need, my bodyguard over there is takin’ me home.” You point to the masked cowgirl by the door. Jesse looks at you, confused.

“I’ll explain it to you another time, I promise I’m safe with him.” You pat him on the shoulder for reassurance.

“Can I at least talk to him? So I can know you’re safe.” Well at least he seemed to actually care about you, not just the concept of you.

“I don’t see why not,” you grab his hand, it’s large and rough, his palm felt like sandpaper against yours, “follow me.” You lead him towards the cowgirl. She’s standing with her arms crossed, observing the drunkards surrounding her.

“Hi,” her head snaps towards the sound of your voice, her eyes soften.

“Hello darlin’,” she runs her hand alongside your arm again. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her touch. She looks behind you at the man you’ve brought over to her. “Who’s this?”

“This is Jesse,” you pull him so he’s standing alongside you causing him to stumble a bit. You giggle. “He wanted to make sure you were gettin’ me home safe. Said he wanted to talk to you.”

Ellie reaches out her hand to shake his, “M’ Joel,” she says in a gruff voice. Jesse’s eyes widen a bit. You hadn’t heard her man voice yet, it was a little silly. “Why don’t you go wait by my horse darlin’? I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Um, alright.” You didn’t love being booted from a conversation like that, but you were starting to get tired and your feet were starting to ache.

You walked out of the saloon to Ellie’s horse. You feel light and heavy at the same time. Then you remember you brought your own horse here. Your thoughts were so jumbled.

You walk over to grab her, untying her lead after a bit of a struggle. Figuring you would pony her over to the house. You would not ride horseback drunk. Again.

By the time you get back to Ellie’s horse she’s waiting for you. She grabs the lead from your hands and helps you up onto the horse. You were going to try like hell to remember the feeling of her hands on your hips.

“Thank you good sir,” you say with a giggle. She just shakes her head and mounts the horse, grabbing your horses lead before her horse begins to trot away from the saloon towards the quiet desert.

You probably couldn’t help the way you leaned against her back, pressing your body to hers. She was so warm. Your hands wrapped nice and tight around her waist and she hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even moved. She stayed sitting right up staring straight ahead. You couldn’t bring yourself to remember why you shouldn’t be doing this. You only knew that you wanted to and that’s what mattered right now.

“Who’s Joel?” You asked, cheek pressed against her leather coat.

“He’s- he was a friend.” She can barely disguise the sorrow in her voice.

“Was he your husband or somethin’?” Questions tend to just pour out of you in this state with no regard for the person you’re asking.

“No, no he was a good friend.”

“Mm, you’re lucky you never had a husband.”

“Why?”

“Well I don’t know if all husbands are like how mine was, but I wouldn’t try it again, just in case.”

“What happened?” You let the sound of the horses hooves hitting the dirt path fill the silence for a moment. You hadn’t really told anyone what happened in your house on the edge of town, where no one could hear you or see you.

“Well, I’ll start at the beginning I suppose. My daddy got sick, real sick and he wanted me to have a man to take care of me after he was gone. So I married a man he chose for me. I didn’t know him, I barely saw him before we got married. But I wanted to make sure my daddy could die knowing I’d be taken care of, so I did it. I still regret going through with it.” You nuzzle your cheek into her back, trying to get impossibly closer. “I still don’t like to think about our wedding night.”

“I’m sorry darlin’ you don’t have to-”

“No I want to, I haven’t said anything to anyone about this before. Kinda feels nice, I feel lighter. Anyways, we moved into that tiny house. It didn’t take long for him to get mean, real mean. Since we lived so far away, no one could hear the screamin’ and yellin’. I still have some scars from that him, that’s why I had that medical kit for you when you got hurt. I’ve had to clean myself up more times than I’d like to admit.” You let out an empty laugh.

“Where is he now?” Ellie’s voice has an anger in it that was terrifying, the type that was calm and sure. She knew exactly how she would remedy it.

“Well, every time he would hurt me I would threaten to shoot ‘em. He would laugh in my face like I had told some sort of fucked up joke. Here let me show you somethin’.” You hike up your dress, exposing the large scar on your thigh. You grab Ellie’s hand from the reins and place it on the Scar, her fingertips run gently across it, like she would hurt you if she pressed too hard. She traces around the jagged raised skin, it was like she was trying to put a picture of it together in her head. “The night he did that I shot him right in the chest. He was an evil, evil man. No one missed him. He’s buried about 500 feet from the house, his grave is unmarked.”

You feel Ellie’s body relax a bit. “That’s good. You did good.” She’s still absentmindedly running her hand along your thigh. The feeling made your breath hitch. Your whole body grows hot. You hadn’t ever felt anything like that. “He deserved it, I hope you know that.”

“Still doesn’t feel good though, didn’t make me feel any better when he was dead. The only thing that changed was that I was safe again.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when her hand slowly leaves your thigh, pulling your dress back down for you.

“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Sometimes it feels like the only solution though.”

“Yeah it does.”

** **

You’re half asleep by the time the horse stops in front of your house. You barely manage to lift your head up, but somehow you get off the horse.

“Go on inside, I’ll get the horses settled.” She didn’t have to tell you twice.

You were halfway to the house when you remembered, “Ellie,”

“Yes?”

“Come and sleep inside tonight.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @sakiigami @wishbones999 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @ellabssweetheart @lily-fics-11

If ur name is crossed out it wouldn’t let me tag u

Lmk what yall think! Notes, comments and reposts always appreciated! Thank you for all the support!

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x you #cowboy!ellie #western! au #cowboy!au #cowboys #cowgirl #the last of us 2

[yanverse]

I’m curious how the yans would react to their darling suggesting being free use? Some of them would never act right EVER again; but I also think some would start out too nervous to make a move, but once they do it a few times, they become something of a menace.

prrrrr.......free use, you say? i have.......ideas >:) (lmk if u want more! <3)

Elias, Kaito, Lilith, Isabelle, Adrian, Nina

(cws: free use kink, domination, degradation, dressing up, fingering, overstimulation, messy sex)

Elias obviously needs to keep you around while he's working, and it just so happens that he's also in need of a good secretary for his practice. Win-win! He can have the best of both worlds: keep you close enough that he can see you whenever he wants, and you've got something to busy yourself with when he gives you paperwork--but aside from filing a few things you basically just get to mess around on the computer while he's in session. And unless you're into it, you won't be hearing any questionable noises and thumping through the wall--he's had to rebrand and lost some repeat customers, but he's a taken man now, so no more shenanigans.

Of course, that means you've got a much hornier, much needier cowboy on your hands than you're used to. He doesn't need to jerk off between clients or on his break anymore if the mood hits him midday--that's what he's got you for now, right? He can just waltz out of his office, tap you on the shoulder, and drop to his knees right there. Worried you'll get caught, that someone might walk in early or a solicitor will drop by? Then you just need to stay nice and quiet while he's under your desk. He might just end up leaving indents in the floor from the spurs on his boots, cause it's so easy and you're so accessible and you don't even have to stop working! In fact, if he's in the mood to tease, he might dangle the threat of stopping over your head if you don't keep working while he goes down on you.

But knowing him, there'll be an equal chance of him rushing over, locking the door to the office, and just throwing you over the desk like he can't wait a second longer to have you. There's a reason he's got so much time in between his clients, and it's because there's no better time to mess up his cute little secretary, and make sure you have to sit with his cum leaking down your legs the rest of the day.

Kaito has half a mind to just sit you on his lap all day. He doesn't have to go out for work, he barely leaves the house as is, and you're around each other most of the time anyways. Why not? He could game or tweak his latest sketches with you settled and comfy on his lap, his cock twitching softly inside you with those pretty mewls of yours perking him up. That, to him, is heaven.

If that's not the case, though, then sparing a hand to entertain you is just as good. Especially if you're in an argument, or if he's mad at you, or if he's just annoyed but not in the mood to talk about it. He doesn't even have to be paying attention, but more than likely you'll be begging for him to give you some.

With the spare seat next to him and his eyes glued to his computer screen, he only needs one hand to fiddle with his tablet pen as he shades his latest drawing. And all the while he has his fingers buried between your legs, his reactions minimal as you soak his chair with sweat and grab at his sleeve in desperation. You keep cumming all over yourself, you're a mess, and he's already gonna have to clean you up after so at least don't distract him. Each orgasm aches more than the last with overstimulation melting your brain into your skull, but you won't even stop him. You probably could, but why would you? He said it himself: he's gonna clean you up when he's done, you just have to wait until he finishes up. But knowing Kaito, odds are he's gonna make you much, much messier before he actually gets to that part.

Lilith loves providing for you. She loves to make you happy, to come home with money and food and love, and to shower you with everything she has without you having to lift a finger. You love her, you've done enough.

But when the opportunity to bus tables at her restaurant comes around, it's a hard deal to ignore. Extra income, extra time together, and extra chances for you to socialize and put in some hard work? If you're all over it then she can't exactly say no. A good girlfriend wouldn't say no to such a simple request. It may have her biting her nails at first, but seeing you succeed fills her with a feeling of pride that gives her an extra spring in her step on those extra-hard days.

But she's lucky that the diner has so few willing waitresses and such a small staff to begin with, because you two can get so close to getting caught with your pants down. She'd never consider getting off at work before this, but with you so present and available all the time...shooting her those lusty looks across the dining room, bending over just a little too far while you're cleaning tables, brushing by her just a little too close while she's taking an order...if she didn't pull you into the bathroom and push you up against the stall, she might just go crazy. Whether it's your hand up her skirt or hers down yours, it really doesn't matter--if you're going to let her touch you whenever she wants, then she has to take advantage of it. Nearly every break soon turns into a chance to get away, her lunch swapped out for a glorious ten minutes with your legs spread, body bent forward, and her tongue making short work of that promise you made that you'd stay quiet.

Isabelle isn't offered the suggestion of free use. You are free use. You're her toy, you're meant to be used, and you're smart enough to know that she doesn't take such a stance lightly. She's not fucking around with any of that touchy-feely, "casual dominance" crap. You'll know she's dominating you because she won't let you forget your place--look away for a moment, let your guard down, and you'll be pounced on before you can make sense of it. Even if she's just finished making you cum for every year you've been alive, she could very well come back into the room after a minute and decide she's not quite done yet. Bathing, showering, eating, sleeping, it's all the same. So long as you're still breathing, there's an incredibly high chance that you won't go very long without her weight pinning you down or your legs pulled apart for her to have a taste. But at least you're still alive, which is more than can be said for Isabelle's other playthings and romantic interests.

You would think that someone as poised, confident, and professional as Dr. Moorwell wouldn't be nearly as intrigued by the concept. Adrian is a romantic, after all--a chivalrous one at that--so you would struggle to imagine him as being so crass and self-indulgent with his lover.

Alas, he is. In fact, he's like a beast while in pursuit of it. Adrian loves to catch you while you're unawares; reading, reaching up for something on a high shelf, organizing his library, taking a sip of your drink, crawling under the sofa to retrieve whatever you dropped, the view makes him shudder and his belt comes off like the buckle is melting. There's always a touch first, a light tap or a brush down your sides to reassure you that it's him, but it's just a formality. The quick smack of his palm hitting your backside is the real test, because so long as your cute little squeal is followed up by a whine or a moan, he knows there's no risk. He can squeeze you, pull you apart, violate those precious, sacred spots so deep they've never seen the light, and it'll satisfy you to the point of making you gush all over him like he's turned the dial of a sprinkler.

At this point he might as well give you the title of housemaid. Your presence in his home reassures such tidy, homely feelings even amidst the stacked clutter and the piles of unread books. Besides, he'd have an excuse to put you in one of those silly, frilly costumes with the headbands and the wrist cuffs, and you could call him--w-well, it doesn't matter what you call him, so long as you prance around as happy and sweet as usual, and look at him with all that love in your eyes even once he's reduced you to tears and trembling legs.

Nina would be the last person to ever accept such a sinister request. Touch you? Unprompted? Without gloves, or a thorough hand washing, or..? You seriously think she would ever do such a thing on a whim?

That terrible attitude only lasts a few minutes, however, because her complaints are only a farce for how her mind has started working in overdrive. Because you like her enough to ask her for something so lewd. Because you think she's pretty. Because you look at her and think hot, wet thoughts despite her difficult attitude and her insistence on keeping everything clean. You desire her, and that's a feeling that's only come by on very, very rare occasions.

Hence why your request is fulfilled so quickly--like, less than twenty minutes quickly. Less than the time it would take for her to shower and scrub and go through her step-by-step routine in order to touch you, because the waiting is too agonizing and she just has to feel you. To feel your love and your beating heart in your chest, your pulse pounding all the way up your fingertips as you spread her open on your stupid, dirty, filthy hands. The only reason she'll allow it is just because it's you, but don't you dare get a big head! This is just more convenient for her. She'll just take a shower afterwards. But...well, you're coming with her. It'll surely be easier to clean up if you're already in there, so if you think your bathing time from then on is going to go uninterrupted, you'll be very sorely mistaken.

#yandereverse #spicy writing #elias norwood #kaito ooe #lilith surrey #adrian moorwell #isabelle dmitriev #nina sojourn #male yandere #female yandere #ellie writes #yandere x reader #anons

[goatmilksoda]

Nothing in the Parenting Books Prepared Me For This

41. Date Night

Synopsis: After a long and difficult week of saving the world, Mobius and his Lokis decide to relieve some tension and go out on a date at a fancy restaurant where Mobius has a hidden surprise planned.

Word count: 1,905

Stand Alone?: Context helps but isn't necessary

Warnings: NSFW warning! Sylkius; no agere; some kinky stuff mentioned briefly at the end.

Notes: Hey! The story on this one's fine, but the "smut"... has room for improvement. This is a chapter you read for the plot, seriously. But because of the inclusion of graphic sexual content, it's being uploaded here and not my normal writing account.

I will say "smut" is used lightly here because most of the sexual stuff is just foreplay while sex is implied or just like an overview of the sex going on? Like it's not especially sex-y. The emotions are much more sandwhiched in the center of the story where the romance plot is. I might even edit the porn out because it's just not interesting.

Read it on AO3!

For once, the house was quiet. This morning the only noise as the rays of sunlight stretched over Mobius, were the ruffling of sheets. He was surprised to find not only Loki but Sylvie next to him. Both of them were clad in almost nothing besides the blankets and some tight boxer shorts. It had been a long night for the three of them. 

He brushed the hair out of Loki’s face, caressing his cheek to check in on him. The god started to move; his hair in a curly mess of bedhead. He removed his eye mask to kiss Mobius, even though they both had morning breath. 

Mobius repeated a similar motion with Sylvie. She rolled onto her stomach and into his arms to pet his chest with her fingernails and to caress his chin between her thumb and fist. She gave Loki the same sort of special affection, giving him a sloppy kiss and petting his back. 

Mobius got their attention when they were done. “I can’t wait for tonight,” he whispered as Loki climbed on top of him, straddling his torso. 

“Why wait?” 

“I just thought you’d be more in the mood after dinner and dancing,” Mobius winked. 

“Perhaps,” Sylvie said absently as she pulled down his underwear.

“Man, you two are enthusiastic this morning, huh?”

Before Sylvie could mouth him, he sat up on his elbows. “Let's get a little more comfortable first.” 

The last week had been so busy, dealing with a new, nearly planet devastating occurrence that Loki and Sylvie hadn’t had time to be little, but more importantly, they hadn’t had the time to even be around each other, and after four high tension days of nearly no sleep, it needed to be relieved. 

Most of the morning and afternoon was spent doing housework and mundane chores with some sprinkled in dirty-talk and teasing as a sort of bribe for Loki, and to an extent, Sylvie, to actually help. 

At six, they caught Mobius in the bedroom fastening a bowtie on, and fixing his cuffs. 

“Oh, fancy, is it?” Loki asked, making himself a similar, but slightly more extravagant tux with green and gold embroidered accents that could be accidentally overlooked if you weren’t paying attention. “Hm or maybe this?” he showed off by switching his entire appearance, face and all, to something more feminine, and then back. “No, actually I like this one for tonight,” he decided very confidently before giving his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek and exiting the room to go tell Sylvie. 

But apparently, she had already caught wind of the situation. He found her in the other bathroom, touching up her makeup and earrings while wearing a nearly identical dress to the one he had tried on, just a few moments ago. It was a sparkly, green, form-fitting evening gown with a slit up the side, up to the thigh. The skirt may have reached the ground if not for her stylish, sandal high heels, which rose a good four inches off the ground. 

Standing still, she looked absolutely stunning, but the second she moved, shifting her weight at all, it became extremely obvious she had never worn any shoes higher than a cowboy boot as she stumbled and tried to keep her balance. 

“You’re not doing it right,” Loki spoke, standing in the bathroom’s open doorway. 

“What do you mean I’m not doing it right?” she asked, setting down her eyeliner pencil. 

Loki sighed. “Sit down. Let me show you.” 

There was no need for this to even occur as either of them could just will it into being, but the two loved the romance that came with unnecessary, cliche, and dramatic displays of intimate, domestic, affection. Well, Loki did, at least. Sylvie had just learned to put up with it. 

She sat down on the lid of the toilet as Loki applied her eye makeup for her. 

“How do I look?” she asked after also throwing on some dark lipstick. 

“Absolutely stunning,” he responded, taking her by the waist into his arms and smiling. He bent down to kiss her after sweeping her into a low dip. 

“Hey! Watch the makeup. I just applied this,” she rebuked playfully, shooing him away. 

She had a tiny clutch purse with a silver snake clasp at the top and a green fabric body, which almost looked like carved stone from a distance. The fancy bag held absolutely nothing, but was nicely accented with a fur scarf of an animal that may have once been a fox if you were in a dimly lit room. 

As she showed off to Mobius, Loki applied his own subtle eyeliner, and because he actually decided subtlety wasn’t for him, it should be a cat eye, and better make it smoky and green, too. It complimented his 6 inch heels well, which he wore with incredible grace, mostly just to bother Sylvie. 

Mobius looked at his beloveds. “You two make me feel underdressed,” he joked. 

The restaurant was fancy and dimly lit, the kind that kept tiny tea light candles on the table. Dinner was filled with laughter and pining glances. 

While Loki loosened the lids of salt and pepper shakers, Mobius was in the restroom. Poor Mobius had kept it together all night, but the second he looked in the mirror, a wave of horrible anxiety washed over him. “What if it doesn’t work?” he asked himself in the silent bathroom. He washed his face, hoping to make the redness go away with a splash of cold water and then wiped the remaining moisture up with a paper towel. He shook out his limbs hoping to wiggle out the tension, and readjusted his tie with a deep breath. Then, after making finger guns at himself in the mirror, returned to the table. 

Before he had left, dessert was ordered, but the custard flan, creme brulee, and mini coconut chiffon cake hadn't arrived yet. Luckily, the champagne hadn’t, either.

Mobius tried to continue the talk, but the way the gods stared distracted him. It was like they knew something was going on, trying to competitively figure it out before the other, boring into his soul with their dazzling blue eyes.  

What distracted him even more was Loki’s legs rubbing against him under the table. After Sylvie got in on it, using her heels to pet his calves, it became a competition of who could seduce Mobius the quickest. 

“So… when are we going dancing?” Sylvie asked, beginning to get impatient although she knew she would probably be tripping all over the floor unless she took her shoes off. 

“Soon, I promise,” Mobius told her, trying his best to sound confident. This was taking forever. What if it went wrong? What if the waiters forgot? He worried silently, bringing his knuckles up to the side of his nose as if itching his face, even though it didn’t itch. 

Luckily, Mobius was quickly spared of his anxieties as a waiter brought the treats to their table, but perhaps much more importantly, they also brought three glasses of champagne. 

Loki didn’t study it more than simply acknowledging that it was alcohol. “Do most restaurants like this serve champagne with their dessert? You don’t get to choose?” he asked, while getting distracted trying to figure out what a coconut chiffon cake was and why Sylvie had ordered it. 

“No…?” Mobius answered, raising his voice to a higher pitch at the end.

“No?” Loki asked back in a mimicking tone, focusing his attention back to the champagne, and not the strange desserts. He looked at the glass, holding it up to the candlelight. He assumed it was champagne, as that was the only type he had ever seen served a flute- But he paused when something in it hit the light. 

Sylvie took a sip of hers and paused as a similar metallic object brushed her lips. 

Loki, understanding his hand wouldn’t fit in the glass, drank from it to get the fascinating item out. 

He spit it into his hand and studied it. A beautiful, silver ring with a large green emerald in the center of it, surrounded by small white diamonds. 

Sylvie followed his lead and did the same, inspecting her matching one, sliding it onto her delicate, calloused fingers. 

Mobius grinned at them. “So?” he prompted. 

“It’s wonderful…” Loki wistfully smiled.

“So, will you both marry me?” he clarified. 

“Marry you?” Loki and Sylvie both questioned in unison, then looked at each other nervously. 

Mobius almost repeated himself at their incredulous looks. Was it too soon? They had only been together for a year, and even though they had spent most of that year inseparable from each other, that was only a few moments in the long life of a frost giant like Loki and Sylvie. 

“Yes,” Loki whispered at first, examining the jewels on his finger. “Yes!” he exclaimed, making up his mind. “Yes! I want to spend the rest of my life with you!” 

“Sylvie? What about you? Do I have an answer?”

“Sure,” she shrugged. “I’ll marry you and Loki,” she added sarcastically, meaning every word of it. “Are you going to let me finish my dessert, now?” 

Mobius laughed. He had been so nervous, prepared so much for this moment, and yet, it probably would’ve gone exactly the same if he had asked them in the bedroom that morning. 

He finished his creme brulee, watching his partners eat their treats. 

Although she didn’t show it much outwardly, Sylvie was absolutely giddy. Her face was dusted with a light pink blush and she refused to make eye contact with her loves, knowing she’d break into smiles and laughter if she did. 

This was only confirmed after Mobius paid the bill and brought them back outside where Loki and Sylvie absolutely would not leave him alone, insisting on hugging him, or kissing him or holding his hand as they walked back to the car. 

“I think we should skip dancing,” Sylvie grinned, pinning Loki specifically against the car door and rubbing around his tented pants with her leg, but looking over to meet Mobius’ lips. 

“Yeah,” Mobius agreed breathlessly. 

He got in the front while Loki and Sylvie sat in the back, all over each other. 

“Sylvie, you’re gonna make him burst before we even get home. Can you wait until then? He hasn’t earned it yet.” 

Loki went bright red at the thought of earning it, but it just made him more susceptible to his lovers’ charms. 

Truth was, Mobius just didn’t want things to escalate enough to ruin the interior of his car further than it already was (and he wanted, if not to be part of the fun, at least to be able to watch). 

But Loki and Sylvie hadn’t forgotten about him; Upon getting home, they practically threw him down onto the bed, and not only that, they let him enjoy all the pleasures the night had to offer. 

The only part that stifled the experience for Mobius was when Loki kept pounding, and Sylvie kept trying to suffocate him, even after she had swallowed all of his emission and knew he had made it past the brink. 

But, with that being said, Mobius didn’t really mind being treated like their toy, just an object meant to be played with and told humiliating things.

A perfect night for the three of them. 

#not tagging this mostly because I don't care for it to be found ngl #I'm just gonna put the link on the masterpost and call it good enough

[slipperyskell]

Yeehaw or something or other

#I heard I got spurs that jingle jangle jingle n wanted to draw Tesh in cowboy boots for fun #honestly???? he actually looks p good in em #I might actually mess with giving him some cowboy boots for some of his other outfits lmao #Teshyta #disaster cambion #dnd #dungeons and dragons #baldur’s gate #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #original character #original character art

[chocolatecakecas]

To Infinity and Beyond: baby!Jack truthing Birthday Ficlet

Today already looked like the perfect day. Warm weather, the sun shining, the birds singing, all the usual qualifications for "perfection". And if Dean had anything to say about it, it is also going to be, the perfect day.

Because Dean had planned out everything. Tents and tables spread out in the backyard of their new house, enough hamburgers and hotdogs to feed an army, a giant sheet cake in the freezer, and it looked like a Party City catalogue threw up all over their house, both inside and out. Hell, he and Cas even got a bounce house.

Yup, today was going to be perfect, Dean thought as he surveyed the backyard. He was going to make sure of it, nothing was going to go wro-

"To infinity and beyond!"

And the next thing he knew, he had a recently turned four year old, barreling into his legs almost knocking him off the porch.

(read the rest under the cut)

He looked down to see Jack already dressed in his outfit for the day. A shirt with Buzz Lightyear's costume printed on it, complete with little cardboard Buzz wings (Cas made them), purple shorts with a purple tutu, and of course, his favorite Buzz light-up sneakers.

"I'd say that was a bit of a crash landing there, Mr.Lightyear" Dean laughed, as he bent down to right Jack's scribbled cardboard wings. Jack just ignored his reference, instead letting out an excited shriek as he took in the backyard.

Every tablecloth, plate, napkin, cup, balloon, and cardboard decoration was covered in Toy Story characters.

Toy Story, was the end all be all in their house, because they were Jack's favorite movies. So everything, was 100% Toy Story, 100% of the time, hence the party theme. And his favorite character was Buzz Lightyear, hence the costume.

"Dee where's your costume?" Jack questioned, after he finally recovered from the shock of seeing the, probably, overdecorated backyard.

"Yeah Sheriff Woody, where's your costume? It's almost one thirty" Cas called as he stepped out the backdoor. Cas was already dressed in t-shirt with Jessie's outfit printed on the front, her matching red hat, jeans and of course, cowboy boots which Dea-wait shit they only had a half an hour left.

And he hadn't even double checked th-

"The backyard and inside of the house already look incredible. Go on and get ready before everyone starts arriving" Cas smiled sweetly, knowing how worried Dean was about today.

"I will, after I chec-"

"Dean, I promise, I'll double check all the decorations, and the food. Me and the little space ranger have got it covered, right baby?" Cas supplied, looking fondly over at Jack.

"Yeah me and Da got it! Get dressed Dee" Jack cheered, as hopped down the steps and raced "flew" across the grass cardboard wings flapping behind him.

"Go get changed, cowboy. Everything already looks perfect" Cas teased, pressing a quick peck to Dean's lips. And then he was bounding down the steps towards Jack, warning him not to go near the bounce house.

So Dean reluctantly walked inside, forcing himself to ignore all of the things he wanted to check on, and instead making a beeline for their bedroom. He quickly pulled on his costume, but unlike Jack and Cas it was the real deal, not just a graphic t-shirt, Dean had the actual shirt, the vest, whole nine yards. Jack had asked if Dean would wear a real Woody costume and, hey who was he to deny his kid on his birthday?

So with a sigh, Dean made his way back to the living room so he could reorganize the snack table.

He wanted everything to be perfect today. Perfect for Jack because, this was his first real birthday party after all. And because Dean's oldest memory was of his fourth birthday, his last birthday party actually since it wasn't like they were throwing big family bashes on the road. No, birthdays were a box of cigarettes from his Dad (if he even remembered), or Dean sometimes scraping together enough money to get a cake for Sam's birthday.

Which is why today had to go smoothly. Because Jack deserved the world, he deserved to have a good life filled with memories of big family parties with fun decorations and food and laughter. And Dean could give it to him now, give him what he and Sam never had. So today had to be special, it had-needed to be perfect.

"Dean, I don't think Jack is going to care if the clouds are a little crooked" Cas pointed out, amusement dancing in his voice as he walked into the living room.

Dean huffed a laugh, but didn't stop his mission to straighten out the paper "Andy's Room" clouds taped to the wall above the table. Cas just sighed as he gently pulled his hand away from the wall, turning Dean towards him.

"Dean I know how much you want to make this day absolutely perfect for Jack, believe me I do too. But he's going to love every single second of it. He's practically bouncing off the walls already, and the party hasn't even started yet" Cas assured as he squeezed Dean's hands.

"I know, I know. But he deserves to have the best damn birthday. Especially after everything and he's just- Jack shoul-" Dean started, only to be cut off by the sound of the doorbell.

"It's Uncle Sammy and Aunt Eileen! Can I open the door, please?" Jack called from down the hall, asking for permission.

"Yeah buddy, you're allowed to open the door. Let them in" Dean shouted back, unable to help the smile pulling at his lips when he heard Jack enthusiastically telling them about "all the cool decorations".

"See? Jack is already loving it! Now relax, and enjoy the party, cowboy. Everything is going to be perfect" Cas smiled as he made his way down the hall to greet Sam and Eileen. But not before giving Dean's ass a little smack.

A few hours into the party everything was smooth sailing, and Dean had only been scolded for readjusting some decorations four times. The kids Jack invited from his class were having a great time, as where their parents, which was especially great because not a single one of them managed to see a member of Dean and Cas’ family discreetly place their weapons in the spare bedroom (Dean wasn’t a fool, it was a party full of hunters, he wasn’t just gonna make a no weapons rule because what if something happened?). So then Dean and Eileen manned the grill like champs, Cas and Garth kept an eye on the kiddos in the bounce house, Sam had handled the Buzz Lightyear shaped piñata perfectly, while Dean organized the kids, making sure Jack was the one to break it. The sun stayed shining, the birds kept singing. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

And it was all Dean’s fault.

Dean's stomach dropped as he stared down at the now smudged faces of Woody, Buzz and half of the green aliens. Because Dean just smooshed the entire left side of the cake while trying to take lid off.

He just destroyed the most important part of the party, the part Jack was most excited about. Now Dean just ruined everythi-

"-come in star command, do you read me?" Cas joked, completely startling Dean, because how long had Cas been standing there?

"Dean, what's wro-oh" Cas sighed as soon as he caught sight of the cake. 

"I friggin smooshed the whole thing with the lid. It's destroyed we can't-the party and Jack and-" Dean rambled, heart pounding against his chest, while Cas took the life from his hands and gently set it on the other side of the counter.

"Dean, stop it's okay breathe for me. It's just the cake. It's not your fault. It's still edible, we can fix this" Cas soothed as softly cupped Dean's cheeks in an attempt to ground him.

"Hey are you guys alri-oh shit" Eileen gasped as she and Sam walked through the kitchen door, which caused Dean’s heart rate to pick up again.

"It's okay, it'll be fine. We can try to scrape some of it back together with a knife" Sam offered, quickly moving Dean and Cas to the side so he could get at the cake.

But it only made the faces look completely unrecognizable.

"Damnit, what are we gonna-"

"Dee! Can we have cake now?" Jack asked as he came racing into the kitchen, and Dean, Cas, Sam and Eileen quickly huddled in front of the counter to hide the cake from sight.

"In a few minutes squish, we're still uh-getting it ready" Dean managed plastering a wide, hopefully convincing smile on his face.

"Why don't you go jump around the bounce house again, buddy?" Sam suggested, which had Jack nearly bolting out of the kitchen again with a nod

"Make sure one of your aunts or uncles, or your friends' parents are watching you!" Cas called after him, which only got a tiny "okay Da" in response.

They all let out a breath when they heard the backdoor slam, and quickly turned to look at the offending cake again.

"It's not that late, what if one of us runs to store and see if they have ano-"

"They won't, we ordered this specia-"

"And there seems to be no sign of intelligent life anywhere" Claire joked as she entered the kitchen and quickly surveyed the mess before her, eyes widening when she spotted the cake. And Dean normally would have teased her the reference but he was too busy, freaking the fuck out, so he chose to ignore it.

"What do we do? We can't fix this, there's no time it's completely rui-"

"Wait, dude calm down. I have an idea, hold on a minute" Claire proclaimed, and swiftly exited the kitchen, which did pretty much nothing to calm Dean's panic. In fact he was getting desperate.

"Do you think Rowena might have a spell-"

"That's not how magic works. But honestly Dean, I'm sure Jack won't even notice-"

"The kid can recite the entirety of Toy Story 2 from memory and you don't think he's gonna notice Woody is missing his entire head?"

"Alright, start grabbing the Toy Story figures and wash them off. Then we can put them all over the cake instead, and cover up the horrifyingly smeared faces" Claire ordered as she came back into the kitchen with Kaia in tow, and box of Jack's toys in hand.

And Dean could have cried from relief (he did).

"Holy shit Claire you're a genius" Dean praised, as he quickly began sifting through the box.

"I know, I know. Now c'mon, I want cake"

And a few minutes later everyone was gathered around the dining room table, singing a completely off key rendition of Happy Birthday. Jack was seated in the center of it all, with a half smooshed, slightly lopsided, plastic figure covered cake, with Dean and Cas crouching on either side of him. Jack hadn't even commented on the completely smeared face of Woody or Ham, he was just clapping along, bouncing in his seat. In fact, he the biggest smile Dean had ever seen on his face, and he teared up at the sight.

"Blow out the candles and make a wish, baby" Cas encouraged, and Jack attempted to do just that. Only succeeding when Dean secretly helped blow out the candles for him.

"Yay! To infinity and beyond!" Jack shouted again, as he stood up and jumped on his chair. The room easily erupted into laughter, while Charlie and Jody each snapped pictures from across the table.

"Alright Lightyear, let's not fall with style into the already smooshed cake" Dean joked, as he quickly stabilized Jack, which only caused everyone to burst into more laughter.

So, Dean scooped up Jack, sitting in his chair and placing him on his lap, while Sam offered to cut up the cake. And Cas took plopped down in the chair next to them, sliding him and Jack a plate.

"Are you having fun at your birthday party, baby?" Cas questioned as he handed Jack a plastic fork.

"Yeah! Claire jumped in the house with me! And Danny and Sarah and me played in the sandbox! An-and we played tag, and Aunt Donna played too! And the cake has all my friends on it, see!" Jack rushed out all in one breath, stopping to point at the now sliced cake. By "friends" he of course meant his actual Toy Story figures of course. But before Dean could even react to any of that, Cas was whispering in Jack's ear, and pulling away.

"Thank you for all the party things, Dee!" Jack beamed as he turned and threw his arms around Dean's neck.

And Dean's heart clenched as he tightly wrapped his arms around his kid, feeling a tear roll down his cheek. He looked back up to see Cas smiling widely at them, so Dean whispered something in Jack's ear too. And then Jack was off flinging himself around Cas' neck.

"Why doesn't all the family get together, I can take the photos" Marissa, the mom of one of Jack's friends offered.

And soon the three of them were surrounded by their family on all sides. Everyone laughing when Marissa suggested they all say "yeehaw" instead of cheese. Jack giggling when Claire zoomed over, and bent down so she could smoosh their faces together for the obligatory "silly face" picture. Dean quickly swiping icing on both Cas and Jack's noses, causing Cas to tip Dean's cowboy hat and Jack to shove a handful of frosting on Dean's cheek.

So maybe it wasn't the flawless, smooth sailing birthday party Dean had planned. But the weather stayed warm, the sun still shone, the birds still sang. His family laughed, and ate and had a blast.

And Jack looked about as happy as they had ever seen him, as he ran around the yard with his friends and played games with his family. Dean would even go as far to count it as a complete success. Especially since Jack asked Cas, "when can we have a big party again?", as they tucked him into bed later that night.

So as far as Dean is concerned, it was the perfect day.

Tag list:

(please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!!💛)

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @writtendevastation @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @sinnabonka @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149

@shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26 @multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs @multi-fandom-dark-lord @perfectkoaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs

@dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @angelic-bee-enthusiast @nguyenxtrang @idiot-on-the-hill @ethicalbitch @fandoms-and-things @doreschary @confix @milfcodeddean @seraphcastiel @seraphlm

#toy story 2 IS jack's favorite movie i will not be debating this. he is a boy of taste #dean and cas are secretive and dont trust the mail ahshdha #this is so self indulgent toy story 2 is my favorite movie of all time #this is based off when my parents accidentally smooshed half of the cake at my 3rd bday party and did exactly this asfhajdhah #so this is literally just a bunch of toy story references i apologize for nothing i had to hold myself back from making even moRE #de and da supremacy because its both parts of 'daddy' and he started calling them that when he first started to talk but it stuck #also its written from deans pov bc i couldnt write from actual 4 year old jack's pov so i apologize for that #HES FOUR!!!! #baby jack truthing #baby!jack #happy birthday jack!!!! #dean winchester #castiel #sammy #eileen #claire novak #destiel #destiel fic #bec writes #nougatparty #dad!dean #dadstiel #userzaddy #seraphcastiel

[achliegh]

Golden

(Sorry if this Chapter is lack luster :/ )

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Ladies Love Country Boys

Bonfire Playlist: Spotify, Youtube

Watching Airplanes

Chapter 2:

Cowboy Sweet Ass sent you a Location

New Message from Cowboy Sweet Ass

See you there ;)

Finn was nervous, he wasn’t gonna lie, Logan and Him are leaving tomorrow for Gryff and this is the last night they can see Leo. Who, neither of them will admit this, has kindly wiggled his way into their brains for every minute of everyday. Sometimes to break a long silence between the two of them they will talk about Leo. How they were going to cope when they can’t see him again is unknown and something he didn’t want to think about.

They hadn’t actually seen Leo in the past five days, with their training schedule and Leo helping set up a charity arena for the thing they were supposed to meet him at tonight, it was just late night calls that were still kinda awkward at times. But always had them smiling as they fell asleep.

Walking up the dirt path, where the uber had dropped them off, Logan and Finn weren’t sure they were in the right place until they saw the huge crowd gathered around a tall metal fence with bleachers and an announcers corner that's up on a hydraulic lift, speakers set up so people can hear the quick talking of the men commenting on whatever was happening.

Horses and people on them were everywhere. This causes Logan a lot of stress, as someone who is terrified of horses… This is not ideal. Especially when one is trotting toward them at a scary fast speed.

Finn recognized Clayton immediately, trotting over at a leisurely pace on a cool looking horse he waves. He notices Logan hiding himself completely behind Finn’s back. Finn held his hand out for Logan to take and squeeze if everything got too much for him. Logan wasn’t good in big crowds.

“Well look who it is!” Clayton hops off his living vehicle and patting her neck. “Let me introduce you to my babe, This” He gestures towards the mare, “Is Leroy, she is a Blanket Appaloosa! Have you guys met Peanut yet? He’s chilling with Eloise, Leo’s mom, you better hope he likes you or else… yeah, or else.” Clay flashes them his slightly crooked but stupidly white smile as he absentmindedly pets Leroy’s neck.

Feeling a squeeze of his hand he looks back to see an absolutely terrified Logan, not knowing about his fear of horses Finn is just confused. So, he goes into a ‘ get Logan alone’ mind set.

“We will find you in a minute, we’re gonna explore!” Finn smiles back and Clayton nods as he swings his leg back over Leroy and clicks his tongue so she struts back towards the group of other yeehaws on their own horses, they all had numbers pinned to their backs which was weird but Finn guessed Leo would explain later. Claytons was CR243, and it looked like it was about to fall off. He notices how someone would go in real fast and then come out after a minute or two. The announcer talked too fast for him to catch.

Leading Logan to a more open area he turns to face him and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, what's wrong?”

“Ummmm, J'ai peur des chevaux….” Logan isn’t looking him in the eyes and has an embarrassed flush to his face. Finn, having no clue what he said, gently grabs his chin to make him look at him, Lo hasn’t run his finger through his hair yet so that means he isn’t nervous around Finn at least. Fixing Logan with a slightly irritated but still worried look, Logan sighs and tries to say something but instead what comes out is a terrified yelp as something takes his hat off his head and pulls some of his hair at the same time, then drops it at his feet.

Whipping around and jumping into Finn’s arms bridal style Logan shrieks as he is met with a blonde horse that almost looks smug. The little splotchy white stripes on its snoot may make it look kinda cute but Logan knows what can happen if you get on a horse's bad side. It happened to Sydney, he didn’t need it to happen to him too.

“Peanut!” A very tall and beautiful older woman walks over to them laughing a little, she has a hearing aid in her left ear and soft blue eyes bright with amusement stare them down. “Sorry Y’all, he likes to find new people to mess with.” She smiles and there is just something so familiar about those deep dimples and sharp cheekbones. She is wearing tight jeans with knee high army green cowboy boots, a white button up with a black cowboy hat contrasting the golden curls falling out from under it. She is wearing a sash with the words ‘Miss Louisiana 1971’ the wrinkles on her face didn’t make her look old and crinkly like people like to think, but more like a gracefully aging woman. She holds her hand out to Finn for him to shake, Logan is still in his arms so it is as much of an invitation to him as Finn. “I’m Eloise, this is my son’s horse.” She looks them up and down after shaking both their hands. “He would like you two.” She smiles one last time, giving them a giant wink and leads Peanut away from them back to the bullpens where they spot Leo sitting on the top of a fence talking to a couple of people.

Finn looks at Logan and sets him down.

“So.. horses?”

“Shut up”

“You go for a cowboy and are afraid of horses!” Finn is bent over laughing and clutching his stomach while Logan crosses his arms and looks around annoyed after he dusted off his hat and put it back on his head.

“What’s so funny?” they look over to see Leo in full get up. Smiling bright, showing off his chipped tooth. His hair was flattened by a black sturdy cowboy hat, his blue button up vibrant under his black vest. The vest had a couple of logos stitched into it for Absolut Vodka, Mt. Dew, and Ariat…. Leo was sponsored? He was also wearing some jeans that fit him just right around his booty that they could see through his assless black chaps that had iridescent tassels on them, with his black boots and belt to match. His silver buckle stood out with the light reflecting off it.

“Wow… you look great.” Logan just melts into Leo’s side when Leo wraps an arm around his shoulders. “But tell Finn to stop being a jerk.” Logan put on his best pout when looking up at the taller man, who looked at him with a look that made his heart feel like it was about to jump out of his chest. It didn’t alarm him though, it was nice to feel like this. But it can’t last forever.

“What's he doing that's so mean.” Leo turns his attention to Finn who is smiling at them like he's watching two kittens cuddle into each other. His eyes bright with happiness, his smiles wide.

“He’s making fun of me because I’m scared of horses.” Logan wraps his arms around Leo’s waist and squishes his cheek into his chest to look as cute as possible, so Leo will be on his side. Which… fails.

“You’re afraid of horses!” Leo hugs Logan as he starts laughing, smacking a kiss on the top of Logan’s annoyed forehead and squeezes him. “You’re so cute.” Suddenly they hear numbers coming over other speakers and Leo perks up. “Oh I’m up soon! I hope y’all are gonna stay and watch because I would love to take you to the bonfire tonight.” He pulls Finn into the embrace and gives them both a quick peck on the lips, smiling when they chase his lips. “There should be an open spot in the bleachers or, you could watch from Peanut.”

“Bleachers!” Logan gets out of Leo’s arms and starts pulling both the boys towards the crowd without horses. Leo helps them find a spot next to some girls who flirt with Leo but he has no fucking clue. He is just focused on getting Finn and Logan a good spot.

“Alright, my number is BR11710, so when you hear that you’ll know I’m up! I think Clay might come and find you, he had a good run earlier wrangling those troublemaking claves, so keep an eye out for him.” He smiles and climbs down the bleachers gracefully until the last small step where his spur gets caught and he has to yank it out of the cevous it got stuck in. Looking back up at Finn and Logan his cheeks were red as he shrugged and sauntered off towards the chutes.

“Hola losers!” Clayton plops down above with and slaps a hand on their shoulders. “Excited to see him ride? Or have you already? Actually I would know because we overshare way too much.” Smiling, Clayton is covered in dirt and his cowboy hat has been traded out for a ball cap and his button up taken off to be just a white tank top. A tall pale girl sat down with Clayton and was scrolling on her phone looking uninterested. Clayton sits up and wraps an arm around her waist. “Oh this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” She looks up and gives them an irritated wave before going back to her phone.

“Ride? What’s he doing?” Finn looks at him confused after sharing a look with Logan about the irritated girlfriend, then they hear the announcers call Leo's number.

“Alrighty ladies and gentlefolk! We have something special for y’all! One of our very own PBR riders is here to ride the roughest toughest bull of the day! Ole Forty Days!” The crowd cheers as a confused Finn and Logan look at Clayton who whoops and hollers for his bestie. Whistling with his thumb and forefinger in his mouth.

“Alright Jimmy lets get in some commentary before the ride starts, Leo Knut is a 19 year old Professional Bull Rider, his Mother is Eloise Knut also known as Miss Rodeo of 1970 and Miss Louisiana of 1971. His father was Wyatt Knut, Air Force Veteran who was also Leo’s biggest role model.”

“Was?” Logan whispers and gives a sad look to Finn who is busy watching Leo, he is on this tank of an animal, large, white, horns the size of his whole forearm. Leo was adjusting the way he is sitting and has an underside grip on the rope around the bull, wrapping it around his palm to make sure there isn’t a tether that can be stepped on and yank him off.

“Ole Forty Days is the only PBR bull here today, worth millions he is undefeated 32-0 in his career this year. Will Leo who is 30-2 this year be able to stay on those eight seconds.”

Leo hits the challenge button and the gate flies open, Ole Forte days is wild! Finn is automatically on his feet as he watches Leo with his hand up in the air, eyes hard from focusing and counting in his head. Forte turns a 45 degree buck and just about tosses Leo but his grip is so tight that he lasts those eight seconds. The announcers went crazy the entire time.

As he dismounts the still bucking bull his wrist gets caught in the rope he was holding earlier because of the way his glove is falling apart. The rodeo clowns distract the bull fast enough for Leo to get himself detached, falling on the ground. The bull tosses Leo onto the ground and just misses stomping on his ankles. Leo hops onto the fence, the adrenaline is pumping through his veins and his eyes are bright as he searches for the boys in the stand watching him with fear etched into their faces. When his eyes met Logan’s the fear turned into relief and Leo felt the adrenaline making his heart beat even faster.

After Forte is corralled back into the pen to have the rope around his hips removed Leo jumps off the fence and takes his hat off bowing to the crowd, and they love it, whistling and whoops are heard. He points to Finn, Logan and Clayton. Clayton is so excited and starts dragging the other two down the bleachers leaving Ashley behind. Leo doesn’t like her at all so it's fine. Leo turns around and walks towards sports medicine and lets them take a look at his wrist. As his adrenaline starts to fade away the tweak in his wrist starts to bother him as the medic wraps it up.

“You just ruined Forte’s career!” Clay hugs him from the side and picks him up all excited, his girlfriend who decided to join looks at them unapprovingly. Finn and Logan basically tackle Leo to the ground once Clay puts him down. One on each side of him, balanced.

“Are you insane! That could have killed you!” Finn is shaking a laughing Leo by his collar as Logan examines the way his wrist is wrapped.

“I know, I technically wrecked at the end but I still got my eight seconds!” He smiles and takes his hand from Logan, cupping his cheek and rubbing his thumb over the soft skin.

“You never told us you rode bulls! Leo, a little heads up would have been appreciated!” Logan whacks him on the back of the head after they stand up.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?” Leo puts an arm around them and kisses their temples. They had an idea. Where to do it was the question.

The rodeo ended not long after Leo’s ride, the charities the winners chose would be given a five thousand dollar check courtesy of the Knut’s. After Leo was done taking down the arena, a large pile of wood was set up with large equipment. Leo pulled a Clayton and took off his chaps, vest, button down, and hat off so he was wearing a white shirt and a ball cap.

Leo made up for scaring Finn and Logan by pulling them into the back seat of his truck. Leo sitting in the middle of the seat with Finn straddling one leg, hunched over and sucking on Leo’s neck. Logan straddled Leo’s other leg and kissed him with a ferocity that made them both groan. Leo rested his hands in Finn’s hair and on Logan’s hip. Pulling away Leo turns his head to face Finn, guiding him from his neck to lips. He feels Logan push his hand underneath his shirt and smirks into his kiss with Finn. Moving his hands to squeeze both of their asses, causing Logan’s breath to hitch and Finn to moan. He is about to suggest something spicy when a knock on the window alerts them that the party has started.

Why does Clay always have to stick to his word? Leo asked him to let them know when it was time to move his truck to have the tailgate facing the fire, and now was that time. Leo’s head thumps back onto the seat as he lets out an annoyed sigh.

“Well, I guess we have a party to attend… I’m gonna get so drunk.” He smiles and gives his boys one last kiss before he ushers them out of the truck so he can get out of the backseat to move it.

Finn wanders over to Clayton who has Ashley under his arm, she is tall and very skinny. Her long brown hair was in a French braid, she was wearing short shorts, boots and a crop top. He has a very sour look on her face as Finn walks over to them. Logan on the other hand, goes to take a piss in the porta potty. Something he is not fond of doing.

Leo moves his truck and gets out to put the tailgate down so people can sit on it, climbing into the bed of the truck he opens the cooler in the back and takes out two budlights, Leo doesn't really care for budlight but they need to be drunk.

“CLAYTON!” He shouts as the three walk over to the truck, chucking the beer at his friend; they both take out their keys, puncturing the cans and shotgunning the beers.

A few hours and a lot of drinks later Leo was singing to Finn, standing between his legs as Finn sat on the tailgate next to Logan who was filming.

“You can train 'em, You can try to teach 'em right from wrong. But it's still gonna turn 'em on!” Finn can’t help but laugh and wrap his arms around Leo’s necklaces he sang, every once in while facing Logan's phone and singing into the camera as he filmed. Taking a drink of his beer he smacks a sloppy kiss on Finn's cheek and skips away to Clayton to dance like idiots as Luke Bryan sang about shaking it for birds and bees.

The two drunken best friends wrap and arm around each other hips with their drinks in the other hand, putting left side to right side they swing back and forth to the beat as they scream out the music.

Later on Leo picks Logan up so his arms are around his neck and his legs are around his waist and spins around while humming to a song about wheels and Finn looks so smitten that clayton takes a picture to show him and laughs as he send it to Leo, who has managed to misplace his phone… for the millionth time.

Setting Logan down he wraps his arms around the shorter man's shoulders and rests his chin on top of his head as he bounces to the beat. Logan leans his forehead to rest on Leo’s chest and uses his hand that isn’t holding his water to loop his finger into one of Leo’s belt loops he wishes he could take a screenshot in his brain.

Hours passed, singing and horrible dancing, more drinking for Clay and Leo until it sounded like a good idea to see who could crush a folding table by jumping off Clayton’s truck. Finn managed to lead them away before they actually tried it by telling them’ Leo could def dance better than Clayton’. Which turned into the worst dance battle ever seen. Two drunk teenagers and country music make for terrible dancing but a lot of laughs. Eventually, the fire dies down, the drinks run out and the boys get tired. Finn wrangles Leo into the back seat of the truck after lifting the tailgate, moving to go to the drivers seat because Logan might be to short to drive and they are to dumb to figure out how to move the seats, Leo latches onto him and pulls him into the backseat with him.

“Hey! How do you expect me to drive back here!” Finn pokes Leo’s nose and Leo catches his finger in his mouth biting him. Finn squawks and pulls his finger away. Looking at Leo offended, laughing a little as Leo is looking at him with this tiny smirk. “That was rude.” Leo narrows his eyes playfully and flips them so Finn is laying on his back with Leo snuggling into his chest.

Logan gets in on the passenger side and looks up to see Finn in the back seat being snuggled by an oddly cat like Leo who is rubbing his face on Finn’s soft t shirt, when his eyes meet Logans he blushes so vibrantly pink and has the shyest smiles as he hides his face in Finn’s chest again. Logan looks at Finn who looks like he's dying from cuteness overload. Logan moves over to the driver's seat and sits all the way on the edge of the seat to be able to touch the petals. Logan doesn’t have a clue where Leo lives… but he does remember how to get back to the hotel.

Trying to get a clingy 6’3” cowboy into a hotel room while he is intoxicated is a lot easier than you would think. He was tired, stripping down the second they walk into the door he lands on the bed in his boxer briefs and spoons Logan and grips Finn’s arm as he falls asleep.

They all slept incredibly well that night, warm, close, and together.

The next morning was the morning The Lions leave to go back to Gryffindor. Leo was up before the other two, showered and dressed when he woke them up with peppering kisses all over their faces.

“Good morning, Honey Bees. Y’all need to get up and get ready to leave, you go home today.” Leo runs his hand through Finn’s hair as he greets them with a sad smile. He doesn’t want them to leave, but he knows that this isn’t some fairytale where two princes will give up their dreams to be with him. That’s not what he wants anyway. The other two finally get up, Finn goes to shower as Logan changes and packs his bag. Glancing at Leo every once in a while, like he wants to say something.

“Leo, what are you still doing here?” Logan drops his bag by the door and turns around to face the taller man, crossing his arms and giving Leo a cold look. Leo is a little taken back by this, Logan has never looked at him like that, and he wasn’t expecting it from how nice yesterday was.

“I was to see you two off… is that okay?” Leo starts to feel uncomfortable under the harsh eyes he found so pretty, he starts picking at the wrap around his wrist, breaking eye contact with Logan as a sinking feeling seeps into his chest. He never expected anything to actually come from this but he ached for it.

He knows where this is going.

“I don’t know what you think is going to happen after we leave, but we aren’t going to be fawning over you when we are busy with our own careers. You are just… a guy who we had a fling with. Finn and I aren’t even together so don’t expect anything.” Logan's voice stayed low in volume but echoed in Leo’s ears.

“I wasn’t expecting anything. I just wanted to see you guys leave, say goodbye, maybe…” Leo didn’t finish his sentence when he looked up at an annoyed and frustrated Logan. “What did I do?” He hears the bathroom door open and Finn walks into the room whistling in fresh clothes as he dries his hair with a towel.

“You don’t mean anything to us Leo'' Finn hears Logan and knows exactly what’s going on, Logan has done this to him many times. This is Logan’s way of cutting off something he wants in a way he knows won't bring the person back, even though he always feels horrible eventually. Finn has been a victim of Logan’s lashing out many times, and he hasn’t left, because he loves Logan. He really really likes Leo, he gives his heart a similar jolt that Logan does. From what they have discussed, Logan felt the same. Logan doesn’t allow himself the luxury of feeling like this though.

Leo looks absolutely shattered after Logan’s words sank in. He looks over to Finn who looks like he’s in his own head, then back to Logan. “I really really like you guys-”

“Stop being a fucking child Leo! This isn’t something we can continue after we leave, we would get torn to shreds by the league! Not everything is about you and we don’t want you! So just go back to your fucking farm and forget us.” Logan grabs his bag and walks out the door slamming it shut, going to be the first one on the bus that just pulled up to take the team to the airport.

Leo stares at where Logan was when red catches his eye, Finn stops and gives Leo a sad smile, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. Finn then turns his back to Leo and follows Logan out the door. Leaving Leo alone in the hotel room… He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the hotel keycard, standing up he goes to leave it on the table of the room, he stops just before he sets the key down.

He takes the card and walks out of the room, Climbing into his truck that was horribly parked, he finds his phone on the floor of the passenger side. Picking up his phone, he calls up the only person he knows who would be willing to hang out even if he was sick from last night.

“Clay? Can you meet me somewhere?”

A half hour and some McDonald's hash browns later. Clayton and Leo were sitting on top of Leo’s truck hood watching the airplanes take off, sipping on soda they got with their food. They watched in a comfortable silence as planes brought people in and took people away.

Logan and Finn were on one of those.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

[vaguely-concerned]

R-r-r-rewatch thoughts for The Mandalorian S2 Ep2

(or Chapter 10 as they seem resolved to call it)

- can I just express my joy for a moment that in one episode we get peli, the answer to my pleas for female representation in the ‘sketchy middle aged car mechanic’ niche, and a female alien designed with no consideration towards sexiness. (I mean I’m sure there’s someone. There is always someone somewhere on the Internet, is the bitter truth history has shown to us. but it’s not the intention behind the design haha)  

- they do take great pains to deliberately show you boba’s armour several times both in the recap and in the episode itself, so never despair he is very likely still on his way onto our screens once more

- this dude holding the baby hostage wanting specifically the jetpack in exchange is the one (1) break this whole episode gave din lol 

also the Patented Mando Finger Curl of Stress while he talked softly and calmly to not promp this asshole to make a sudden move... the most endearing character tic, I love my space cowboy dad so much 

- fun continuity detail: din is all out of whistling birds now, and you can see it here!

I wonder if he could still use the same mechanism with different ‘ammo’, it’s just not as effective? from the way the armorer spoke whistling birds seem quite rare and it would be an inefficient use of beskar if that’s the only thing it can be loaded with

 - I love how after the last episode, a 50 min epic with a bunch of original trilogy significance and impressive technical achievements and exciting character reveals, I was like ‘yeah okay I suppose that is quite interesting’, and this mess/comedy of inconveniences is the thing that fully makes my brain tip into the obsessive ‘BABY AND DAD SHOW!! BABY AND DAD SHOW!!!!!’ mind state lol

- ah the traditional ‘mando trudging slowly but steadily through the desert’ montage we all love to see (I hope this is going to be a Thing for the second episode of every season from now on) 

Also I assume his suit has some sort of temperature regulation built in and that’s how he didn’t, y’know. die under the blazing desert sun

-

CAT FIGHT CAT FIGHT man I love the jawa. also mando doesn’t even glance over at them, really emphasizing how he’s like. done with this entire day (and it’s all barely even getting started din! i’m sorry)

 yodito’s look in this scene tho... he’s like ‘we’ve Seen some shit lady’ (actually I think he’s staring at ‘dr mandible’ like O___o. it’s been a long day for a lil boy) 

you get to see dr mandible’s cards a few times, so I assume anyone who knows the rules of... sabacc? probably? could figure out beforehand that he was in a bad spot. (the star wars fanbase is one of those where I KNOW the rules exist somewhere, and I know people who know those rules exist too)  

- that sound the baby keeps making -- the ‘boo-a’, sometimes with a p-sound at the end -- if that’s the precursor to him saying any variation whatsoever of ‘dad’ or ‘papa’ or ‘baba’ or even ‘buir’ or anything, I will die. I will sink to the ground in a heap and never get up (the way he keeps seeking out gaze contact with the helmet and seems perfectly satisfied with it too... fasdhfaskdjhl my FEELINGS)

- it seems confirmed in this ep that the mandos who died on nevarro did so while holding off the enemy so the rest(probably especially the children) could get away; some of them appear to have escaped. which I guess is a small relief

- 

frog lady stepping out of the shadows and into our hearts

I like that her firm nod after Peli translates ‘her husband has seen them’ lets us know she understands... basic? is that the common tongue thing in star wars there’s just so many to remember across fandoms lol? perfectly well, even if she can’t speak it. 

- mando might be running low on ammo for the pulse rifle, if the fact that he hasn’t replaced the missing cartridge on his... bandolier belt thingy is any indication

ETA: actually ignore me this has been a thing since the literal first episode of the show my brain just had a hiccup lol

- so baby seems to use a little bit of the force to pull the eggs towards him -- I wonder how often he ‘taps into it’ or if it’s always ‘on’ in the background for him. if so I guess there’s no wonder he’s so hungry (but also... kid you can’t end this lady’s entire family line like that one cat who singlehandedly made extinct a whole species of bird! D:)

- din so rarely gets openly angry, he just gets passive aggressive and grumpy. and that’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with things but I love him

- frog lady reacts so strongly to when din sends the ping when nothing else woke her up, I wonder if she can hear more frequencies than a human

- 

hello darkness my old frieeennnddd

- 

proof nr 1508 that din does not starve this baby you guys, he even has his own little tray just the right size for him! as it happens the baby simply seems to prefer eating things that are... still alive in some capacity. which, uh. maybe they can invest in some form of non-sentient crickets or something for him to hunt down and.... oh dear

- 

Look how they massacred my boy

By the way I finally managed to put into words why the Razor Crest -- and particularly the way it keeps getting beaten to hell and back and patched up again --  is so symbolically important and meaningful to me in this show in this post over here! it’s always a great relief to me when I can finally understand what the hell I’ve been going on about all this time and this was one of those lol

-  honestly if it weren’t for frog lady and (more importantly) the baby I think there’s a slight chance din would’ve gone ‘well I had a good-ish run of it for a while there’ and just let the ice claim him haha   

- “Why don’t you come over here and give me a hand. Make yourself useful” This is the one time in the episode I think he crosses the line into just being a dick for a moment (but noticeably the baby isn’t just a little hurt at this reaction, he’s clearly surprised and confused, which means this really does not happen often. after the time mando’s been having recently I guess a moment’s snappishness is understandable haha. he does follow up right after with being much more responsive and attentive when the baby toddles away from him, so it feels like it’s going to be okay)

also the ‘boo-ap’ sound is there again when he’s trying to get din’s attention. just sayin’ 

when din comes over to see the footprints baby makes a declarative little meep like ‘see??? I did tell you!’ haha

- it is very funny that mando is using all his technology meant to track down dangerous bounties in the grungy depths of the criminal underworld... to find a naked lady just chillin’ in a hot spring 

- 

cue the ‘father is evil?’ memes fsadfda. actually the funniest thing about this moment (apart from the fabulous finger acting) is that din actually snatches a few eggs out of the baby’s reach more subtly right before, and that baby only whines for ALL OF ONE SECOND before he goes to sniff around for other food possibilities fkadfhjkds. from my experience with human children he’s a lot less prone to tantrums. yodito doesn’t get mad, he gets even 

- baby running towards din through the hatching spiderlings like ‘DAD I FUCKED UUUUUUP’, din’s little strangled ‘ngh’ sound as he picks the baby up and watches all the creepy crawlies come out... *chef kiss* impeccable 

(that little ‘ngh’ and the soft shocked ‘ah ah AH!’s from when he goes flying at the beginning of the episode... pedro pascal and his voice work for this character gives me so much life. in some ways din has this sort of dignity and grace and in other ways he uh extremely doesn’t. he gets to be cool but also vulnerable in ways a lot of male main characters don’t and it’s probably why I love him so much) 

btw here is that moment when din moves to hold the baby tightly against him with both hands as the big spider appears, because it gets me right in the heart... it such an instinctive thing of holding on to the dearest thing you’ve got before something bad is about to happen

fdsafhsdakjlfhsdkjlhfsdajhf oh my god the baby is clutching din’s finger with his little hand during the chase!!!! 😭😭😭

this FUCKING SHOW has just WEAPONIZED putting in small details everywhere to convey the love and tenderness and attachment felt by a little muppet doll even where only weirdos like me will frame by frame their way through the video to see it I am so MAD

- frog lady going ‘fuck this’ and bounding along is  e v e r y t h i n g 

- din is an amazing shot, though, he doesn’t seem to miss a single one in this whole scene (then again there’s something to shoot at basically everywhere one can take aim so lol)

-

baby hiding behind/half hugging din’s boot as he tries to get the doors closed hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I can’t breathhhhheeeee 

honestly every single one of the baby’s proximity seeking behaviours in this ep has me on my knees 

- it’s very unfair to play the heroic happy mando music like everything is going to be fine and then have a huge fuck-off spider drop down from the ceiling and break it off mid-tune, the mandalorian, you have trained me in certain ways and now do you betray me??? how can I trust again

- the camera work in the scene with the new republic guys gives such a good sense of the discomfort of being judged from on high by someone or something you can’t really see -- the glare of the lights blocking out everything in the shots from din’s pov makes it feel like a tense interrogation (the new republic dude who is actually dave filoni has such a look of fondness as he watches din tho it’s kind of sweet)

- ...oh no I think baby was actually considering munching on that dismembered spider leg YODITO NO JUST EAT YOUR KRAYT DRAGON BABY

- hngh this is a weird filler episode and it has my entire heart. I suspect we might get some episodes of a more stationary baby between active ones like this -- you can tell a little bit in this episode that especially having him running around fast is quite difficult to have look natural, they likely save that effort up for when it best serves the narrative  

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian meta #the mandalorian spoilers #mmmm brain empty only dad and baby show in here #(actually that's not true there's some tf/graves activity going on at all times too haha)

[theneverfinishedstory]

6. Six-Shooter

(Whoops I am several days behind in yeehugust )

Mirage collapsed in a heap. Gasping in for air, she tried to keep from dry-heaving or worse, actually throwing up the corn mush she ate for breakfast. Breakfast that was only maybe three hours ago when the sun hadn’t even gotten up. Shakily holding herself up on her elbows, she heard the patient footsteps of one of her mentors behind her. Her leg shot out just as the person came close. 

“Gods damn it,” Ransom swore. He barely caught himself from falling into the dirt next to her. Mirage rolled her head back to look at him, grinning.

Even though the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, Ransom wore his beaten cowboy hat. His white hair was shaved close on the sides with the longer unruly pieces stuck out under the hat across his forehead. Even with the shade from the brim, Mirage saw white eyes looking down at her. Like other members in their branch of the Shifting Sands caravan, he wore a marigold colored bandana around his neck. On it was the broken hourglass symbol. Tiny grains of sand spilled from the shatter and pooled around the glass. Ransom’s shirt underneath was buttoned up to the top, his sleeves were unrolled and firmly buttoned at the wrist, and his pants went down to the heels of his boots. Being a drow in the desert sun was a life of avoiding it. Mirage hadn’t heard him complain about it yet though. 

“I came down here to tell you your form is all wrong. You aren’t nearly as quiet as you think you are and I think I could outrun you even if you had a head start,” Ransom said, his drawl quiet in the early morning. 

Mirage dropped to the ground and rolled on her back. She scrunched her nose up, angry at the dark blue early morning clouds for no particular reason. 

 “Well, whaddya expect? I had to do a buncha push ups and then a buncha pullups and then run down that stupid hill and jump around on boulders” she huffed. “And I know I’m doing better than last week. I heard you almost say it yesterday!”

“When?”

“When you thought I was asleep and you were talkin’ to Arabella.”

Ransom made a noise of disapproval. He offered a hand to her anyway. Mirage counted to three before grabbing it and pushing off the ground. Even though the ends of her hair tended to drift up and away like smoke, sweat on the other hand, glistened on her forehead. She used the back of her arm to wipe some off. 

She smirked, “So that makes me think I’m doing better then you’re tellin’ me. You’re just mad I tripped ya.”

Ransom walked off, Mirage trailing behind him. The last week or so had been a blur for Mirage. She hadn’t been the only person the Caravan chose to train. A few others had been picked up across the desert and each Caravan branch leader got one to train. Mirage had been chosen by Arabella McClain, an impressive tiefling woman. Ransom Jericho was her second and in charge of running Mirage ragged. Every day there were countless exercises building stamina, strength, and flexibility. While Mirage had never been very out of shape she had never been this in shape either. She was seeing changes to her body and even felt like there were a few in her mind too. Everything seemed a bit sharper and her reflexes felt more natural then they ever. What she really wanted was the thing Arabella and Ransom kept calling ki. With that, the possibilities were endless. 

Skipping behind Ransom, Mirage leaned a little closer, asking, “Since I’m gettin’ better, are ya gonna show me the cool gun trick?”

Ransom snorted. “What cool gun trick? We don’t use guns, Mirage. Rule number seven.”

“C’mon, Ace was telling me all about it. The six-shooter test!” Mirage said. 

Ransom stopped in his tracks. He turned his head towards Mirage. “He did, did he?” 

“Yep.”

“Did he tell you what that was?”

“No,” Mirage said. Seeing the hard stare Ransom was giving, she took half a step back. “But he said you think I might be ready.”

“Did he?”

Mirage felt unease burn inside of her. Before she responded, Ransom started off in the direction of camp. Mirage had to run to keep to pace. At the camp, breakfast for the full fledged members had just started. Most of them had a tin plate with some reheated corn mush on it. A human man had a spoonful halfway to his mouth when Ransom hoisted the man out of his seat. The corn mush plate fell in the dust. 

“Ransom, what in the Nine Hells-” he started. 

Ignoring the outburst, Ransom called over his shoulder, “Arabella, I’m gonna need that gun.”

Scrapes of spoons on tin stopped. Grumbled conversations halted. Arabella, holding a cup of hot coffee in her hands, raised an eyebrow. 

“Why?”

“Six-shooter test.”

Arabella lowered her coffee mug. “Oh?”

“And Ace here is gonna lead it.”

“I am?” he repeated. 

Ransom let go of Ace’s shirt and went over to Arabella. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a bundle of rags. Inside the bundle, was a small silver key. Ransom took it and went over to Arabella’s pack. After taking a few bundles, he got to a small case. The key went in easily like it was a lock that wasn’t used very often. Inside was a simple six-shooter gun. He loaded it as he stood back up. Looking at Ace, Ransom motioned with it to an open space between clusters of sage bushes. 

“Mirage, you too.” Ransom ordered. 

At that, Arabella stood, yet she made no move to stop her second. Ace looked at her, eyes shining with hope. When Ace didn’t move, she said, “You heard him.”

The uneasy feeling in Mirage’s stomach was growing to be the size of a boulder. Her mouth always got her in trouble. Typically, she could get out of it. But this seemed like she was stuck in a dust devil with no way out. She walked over to the empty space, Ace, Ransom, and Arabella following. The other members remained seated but their eyes were glued to the scene unfolding. 

“Mirage, go on down there. Maybe about thirty paces or so,” Ransom said. 

She did as he commanded, but didn’t turn her back, instead walking backwards, too scared to take her eyes off of him.

 “Ace, since you said I thought Mirage was ready for the six-shooter, I guess I’ll have to agree with you,” Ransom said

He clicked the safety off and handed the gun over to Ace, who had only gotten paler with each second. 

“Since you’ve been training with her day after day after all,” Ransom said as Ace took the gun.

 “Now Mirage,” Ransom called over “What you have to do is dodge and deflect the six bullets Ace’s gonna shoot at you. Now this is pretty close range so you’ll have to be quick on your feet. And, of course, if you mess up, a real bullet’s gonna be in your chest. Keep that in mind.”

He clapped Ace on the shoulder. “Ready when you are, Ace.”

Mirage tensed and fought to control her heart rate. The way Ace had talked last night, he made it sound like it was a gun trick, not a gun test. This was not something she felt remotely ready for. Barely evening her breath out, Mirage widened her stance and raised her fists, trying to focus on the gun in Ace’s hand. But the seconds dragged on. Ace raised then dropped the gun a few times before fully aiming it at Mirage. Now the seconds turned into a full minute. Nothing happened. The gun remained pointed at Mirage, Ace’s finger twitching at the trigger. Arabella, her lips pursed the entire time, put her hand on Ransom’s shoulder. With that, Ransom grabbed the gun away from Ace and in a quick follow-up, punched him straight on the jaw. Ace stumbled to the side, almost falling over. 

Grabbing at his jaw, Ace choked out, “Ransom, it was a joke is all! Stupid joke! I just wanted to ruffle her feathers a bit!”

“Don’t you dare lie to someone using my name,” Ransom growled.

“ ‘M sorry, Ransom. Won’t happen again.” Ace said. He rubbed his jaw more as he straightened up. “Just thought-”

“That pretending I thought she was ready for something and fillin’ her head with big ideas would be funny? Or have you forgotten that this training is the most important thing we got going for us out here. And if we don’t train our recruits right they end up dead? Or have you forgotten that?” Ransom looked like he was ready to swing again.

Arabella whistled a short high pitch whistle. “Alright Jericho. Bring it in.”

Ransom clenched his fist but eventually stepped back next to Arabella. Arabella took the gun from him and started to unload it. Each bullet made a clink in her pocket. 

“Ace, take a walk to the stream and dunk your head in. Maybe the chill will clear your head of any more stupidity with our recruit,” Arabella said. “Ransom, go in the opposite direction and beat something up. Neither of you come back till you’re sane again.”

Ace nodded, turning on his heel and headed for the stream half a mile away. Ransom said something in hushed Undercommon before walking back towards the camp. He didn’t stop there, instead he walked past back towards the training grounds. Mirage stood at the other end of the impromptu shooting range slowly lowering her fists. 

Arabella walked over to her. Once close enough, she asked, “You okay, Eolian?”

“ ‘Bout shit my pants, but now that’s done with,” Mirage let out. She looked towards Ransom’s retreating back. “Did I mess up? I didn’t know it was such a big deal, honest. I woulda never brought it up! I thought it was some sorta cool move or something!”

“You didn’t mess up. Ace’s stupid,” Arabella said. “Six-shooter is an old Caravan test that I’m not fond of and don’t really like using. Neither does Ransom. And Ace should know better than saying Ransom recommended it.”

“Did something happen?”

Arabella looked down. “I won’t give you the details. That’s Ransom’s story. But someone close to him didn’t make it through the six-shooter years ago. Since then, he’s pushed against its use. But Caravan hasn’t banned it yet, so it’s still in rotation.”

Mirage glanced at the empty pistol. “So I’ll have to do that?”

Arabella moved the gun out of sight. “Not until Ransom thinks you’re ready.”

“When will that be?” 

“Never, maybe.”

#yeehawgust2021 #yeehawgust #six-shooter #ttrpg stuff #dungeons and dragons #original story #fantasy writing #dnd story #smoke genasi #dnd monk #dnd character #short story #wild west dnd #cowboy stories #dnd 5e #late post #trying to play catchup #dnd drow #dnd tiefling

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp These Are Books: the March 2021 Edition

There aren’t even any pictures! Except in that one book where there were pictures! It was weird! This was a weird book month! Back at it again with thoughts and opinions about a whole mess of books that no one explicitly asked for, but I’ve got lots of thoughts and opinions and they only count if I share them on the internet. Seriously, someone let me go to a baseball game soon. Obligatory warning for spoilers and vaguely unhinged rants under the cut. As always, feel free to come tell me what else I should be reading at literally any time ever.

Best Book of the Month Honors Goes to This Book, Even Though They Called It Halftime at a Hockey Game. A Hockey Game!

The Dating Plan by Sara Desai

Daisy Patel is a software engineer who understands lists and logic better than bosses and boyfriends. With her life all planned out, and no interest in love, the one thing she can't give her family is the marriage they expect. Left with few options, she asks her childhood crush to be her decoy fiancé. Liam Murphy is a venture capitalist with something to prove. When he learns that his inheritance is contingent on being married, he realizes his best friend's little sister has the perfect solution to his problem. A marriage of convenience will get Daisy's matchmaking relatives off her back and fulfill the terms of his late grandfather's will. If only he hadn’t broken her tender teenage heart nine years ago… Sparks fly when Daisy and Liam go on a series of dates to legitimize their fake relationship. Too late, they realize that very little is convenient about their arrangement. History and chemistry aren't about to follow the rules of this engagement.

— Ok, it’s important to know that I really did love this book. It hit all my trope-wants. Childhood friends, incredibly stupid misunderstandings, pining, seriously God the pining, fake engagement, BANTER. It was all going great. I was occasionally swooning. They kept making out! And then! THEN. They went to a hockey game. On a date. A fake date. Cool, cool, cool. All tropes, all the time right? Not so fast, internet! Because these self-proclaimed Sharks SUPER FANS referred to intermission as “halftime was coming up.” Halftime! At a hockey game! That’s—that’s not how hockey works! If this hadn’t been “traditionally” published, I probably could have let it slide. But that was not the case. This was a “real” book with, I can only assume, real editors. All of whom saw the words halftime and hockey near each other and we’re like YEAH, PRINT THAT SHIT. I read that at nearly one in the morning and seriously considered waking Justin up to be like CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS IN A REAL BOOK? Anyway, it was still real cute. Everyone lived happily ever after. It made want to eat samosas.

This Book Had Pictures, It Was Weird

Clean Sweep by Ilona Andrews

On the outside, Dina Demille is the epitome of normal. She runs a quaint Victorian Bed and Breakfast in a small Texas town, owns a Shih Tzu named Beast, and is a perfect neighbor, whose biggest problem should be what to serve her guests for breakfast. But Dina is...different:  Her broom is a deadly weapon; her Inn is magic and thinks for itself. Meant to be a lodging for otherworldly visitors, the only permanent guest is a retired Galactic aristocrat who can’t leave the grounds because she’s responsible for the deaths of millions and someone might shoot her on sight. Under the circumstances, "normal" is a bit of a stretch for Dina.

And now, something with wicked claws and deepwater teeth has begun to hunt at night...Feeling responsible for her neighbors, Dina decides to get involved. Before long, she has to juggle dealing with the annoyingly attractive, ex-military, new neighbor, Sean Evans—an alpha-strain werewolf—and the equally arresting cosmic vampire soldier, Arland, while trying to keep her inn and its guests safe. But the enemy she’s facing is unlike anything she’s ever encountered before. It’s smart, vicious, and lethal, and putting herself between this creature and her neighbors might just cost her everything.

— So, Ilona Andrews is a name that keeps coming up because when I borrow a book from the library I have to go through Kindle and Amazon is like...here are some other absurd fantasy romances you’d enjoy. Also, one of her other series had been recc’ed to me. Only problem? The first book in that series is the only book in that series not available at my library. So, I was like, ok, I’ll start this one instead. It was...weird. Honestly, it felt like I’d been dropped in the middle of the story and the narrator was like, well why don’t you already know what’s going on? In theory the world building was cool. (I was not expecting alien werewolves, lemme tell you that!) But also it all felt very rushed and the end just sorta happened.

In Which I Continue to Love “Same Verse” Books & No One Else Had Sex in the Port Jeff High School Dugout. For Which I Was Grateful

Love Her or Lose Her by Tessa Bailey

Rosie and Dominic Vega are the perfect couple: high school sweethearts, best friends, madly in love. Well, they used to be anyway. Now Rosie’s lucky to get a caveman grunt from the ex-soldier every time she walks in the door. Dom is faithful and a great provider, but the man she fell in love with ten years ago is nowhere to be found. When her girlfriends encourage Rosie to demand more out of life and pursue her dream of opening a restaurant, she decides to demand more out of love, too. Three words: marriage boot camp.

Never in a million years did Rosie believe her stoic, too-manly-to-emote husband would actually agree to relationship rehab with a weed-smoking hippie. Dom talking about feelings? Sitting on pillows? Communing with nature? Learning love languages? Nope. But to her surprise, he’s all in, and it forces her to admit her own role in their cracked foundation. As they complete one ridiculous—yet surprisingly helpful—assignment after another, their remodeled relationship gets stronger than ever. Except just as they’re getting back on track, Rosie discovers Dom has a secret... and it could demolish everything.

— Listen, one of my absolutely favorite tropes that I do not think gets enough love in the world is COMMITTED LONG-LASTING RELATIONSHIPS. And, like, ok, sure the premise of this was that they were separating in that long-lasting relationship. But no one really believed that, did they? Rosie and Dominic were real cute and their banter was good and I wasn’t totally skeeved out when they literally fucked on the kitchen floor. So, I think that’s saying something. Also, also! I seriously appreciated the realism of this book because no one on Long Island would ever call Manhattan Manhattan. It’s the city. Every other borough gets a name, but Manhattan is just the city and I nearly cheered when they said that. But also, no one’s taking a cab from Port Jeff to the Meatpacking District. You know what that would cost? God.

Tools of Engagement by Tessa Bailey

Hair, makeup, clothing, decor... everything in Bethany Castle's world is organized, planned, and styled to perfection. Which is why the homes she designs for her family's real estate business are the most coveted in town. The only thing not perfect? Her track record with men. She's on a dating hiatus and after helping her friends achieve their dreams, Bethany finally has time to focus on her own: flip a house, from framework to furnishings, all by herself. Except her older brother runs the company and refuses to take her seriously.

When a television producer gets wind of the Castle sibling rivalry, they’re invited on Flip Off, a competition to see who can do the best renovation. Bethany wants bragging rights, but she needs a crew and the only member of her brother's construction team willing to jump ship is Wes Daniels, the new guy in town. His Texas drawl and handsome face got under Bethany's skin on day one, and the last thing she needs is some cocky young cowboy in her way.

As the race to renovate heats up, Wes and Bethany are forced into close quarters, trading barbs and biting banter as they remodel the ugliest house on the block. It's a labor of love, hate, and everything in between, and soon sparks are flying. But Bethany's perfectly structured life is one kiss away from going up in smoke and she knows falling for a guy like Wes would be a flipping disaster.

— It should first be noted that in the three books of this series, I could not and cannot understand why Bethany’s brother was such a monumental dick. He was just...he was a dick. His marriage was awful. How long was his wife pregnant without him knowing???? I digress. This continued to be cute, Bethany was a legit heroine as far as those rom-com things go, Wes was very Texas and that got a little over the top, but they had sex in a bed like normal people so that helped. Oh, except that one time on the construction site. Whatever, this book was cute. This whole series was cute, really, and I was a big fan of the happy little wrap-everything-up with a bow ending.

Romance That Happens In Point Two Seconds Is...Unbelievable

Too Hot to Handle by Tessa Bailey

The road trip was definitely a bad idea. Having already flambéed her culinary career beyond recognition, Rita Clarkson is now stranded in God-Knows-Where, New Mexico, with a busted-ass car and her three temperamental siblings, who she hasn't seen in years. When rescue shows up---six-feet-plus of hot, charming sex on a motorcycle---Rita's pretty certain she's gone from the frying pan right into the fire . . . Jasper Ellis has a bad boy reputation in this town, and he loathes it. The moment he sees Rita, though, Jasper knows he's about to be sorely tempted. There's something real between them. Something raw. And Jasper has only a few days to show Rita that he isn't just for tonight---he's forever.

— For as much as I loved the Port Jeff series by my new pal Tessa, this one was...oof. Too much, guys. Too much. Fucking in trucks. Fucking in back offices. The whole book lasted, like, three days. And keep in mind this is coming from someone who has written like two million words about Killian Jones, self-loathing champ 250 years running, but Jasper’s self-loathing was a little over the top. Like, let’s not objectify dudes, but also...I don’t know guys. Maybe the other books in the series are better? I was mostly just annoyed by Rita.

What the Hell Happened at the End of This Book?? Seriously, I Have No Idea

The Queen’s Assassin by Melissa de la Cruz

Caledon Holt is the kingdom's deadliest weapon. No one alive can best him in speed, strength, or brains, which is why he's the Hearthstone Guild's most dangerous member. Cal is also the Queen's Assassin, bound to her by magic and unable to leave her service until the task she's set for him is fulfilled. Shadow of the Honey Glade has been training all her life to join the Guild, hoping that one day she'll become an assassin as feared and revered as Cal. But Shadow's mother and aunts expect her to serve the crown as a lady of the Renovian Court. When a surprise attack brings Shadow and Cal together, they're forced to team up as assassin and apprentice. Even though Shadow's life belongs to the court and Cal's belongs to the queen, they cannot deny their attraction to each other. But now, with war on the horizon and true love at risk, Shadow and Cal will uncover a shocking web of lies that will change their paths forever.

—WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED AT THE END OF THIS BOOK??? I figured out the so-called twist like...two chapters in. Fine, ok, whatever. It’s YA, this is not rocket science and I was interested enough in Cale and Shadow to see how it all played out. Only it didn’t really play out! Because the whole end was just this like four chapter retcon of basically EVERYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENED and I genuinely could not believe it was happening. It didn’t make sense?!? Like with the plot? Also, spoiler, good thing Shadow and the other king haven’t consummated their marriage yet since she and Cale totally fucked after her wedding? What is YA? Why is Amazon telling me this is a Teacher’s Pick? Why hasn’t my hold come through on the sequel yet so I know what happens next?

Low-Stakes Romance Was Real Boring and All The People Were Boring In It

The Ten Rules for Faking It by Sophie Sullivan

As birthdays go, this year’s for radio producer Everly Dean hit rock-bottom. Worse than the “tonsillectomy birthday.” Worse than the birthday her parents decided to split (the first time). But catching your boyfriend cheating on you with his assistant? Even clichés sting. But this is Everly’s year! She won’t let her anxiety hold her back. She’ll pitch her podcast idea to her boss. There’s just one problem. Her boss, Chris, is very cute. (Of course). Also, he's extremely distant (which means he hates her, right? Or is that the anxiety talking)? And, Stacey the DJ didn’t mute the mic during Everly’s rant about Simon the Snake (syn: Cheating Ex). That’s three problems. Suddenly, people are lining up to date her, Bachelorette-style, fans are voting (Reminder: never leave house again), and her interest in Chris might be a two-way street. It’s a lot for a woman who could gold medal in people-avoidance. She’s going to have to fake it ‘till she makes it to get through all of this. Perhaps she’ll make a list: The Ten Rules for Faking It. 

— I am a broken record. Shouting. From the highest hilltop. Just because you think someone is cute when you’re technically not supposed to be dating them does not mean you get to be anything less than nice around them! It’s not cute! And part two, which often goes with part one: rom com dudes have GOT to stop lying or hiding or otherwise avoiding telling people who they really are. It’s a convoluted, passably lazy way of writing and dropping a third-act bomb on the story. Don’t do it. Stop doing it. We’ve moved past the need for hidden identities. Unless he’s, like, a spy or something. Um...this was a weird book. I know Everly had anxiety and that became a PLOT POINT, patent pending, but she was also not super relatable? Which is crazy considering my very real, rather undiagnosed anxiety. Chris was boring. The whole plot, as this title suggests, was very low stakes and no one actually  seemed to remember that their jobs were ever on the line? Did Everly and Chris have a conversation before they decided they liked each other? Who can say, really.

Shipped by Angie Hockman

Between taking night classes for her MBA and her demanding day job at a cruise line, marketing manager Henley Evans barely has time for herself, let alone family, friends, or dating. But when she’s shortlisted for the promotion of her dreams, all her sacrifices finally seem worth it. The only problem? Graeme Crawford-Collins, the remote social media manager and the bane of her existence, is also up for the position. Although they’ve never met in person, their epic email battles are the stuff of office legend. Their boss tasks each of them with drafting a proposal on how to boost bookings in the Galápagos—best proposal wins the promotion. There’s just one catch: they have to go on a company cruise to the Galápagos Islands...together. But when the two meet on the ship, Henley is shocked to discover that the real Graeme is nothing like she imagined. As they explore the Islands together, she soon finds the line between loathing and liking thinner than a postcard. With her career dreams in her sights and a growing attraction to the competition, Henley begins questioning her life choices. Because what’s the point of working all the time if you never actually live?

— YOU NEED TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH SOMEONE TO DECIDE YOU LIKE THEM. AUTHORS REALLY REALLY NEED TO LEARN HOW TO BUILD ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS. IF THEY ONLY LIKE EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY KISS WELL IT’S NOT A GOOD RELATIONSHIP. AND THIS IS COMING FROM ME. Back at it again with the annoying so-called heroine who was just...occasionally real mean to Graem for no reason at all? Also her name was Henley. Which is not a great reason to dislike her, but here we are.

Apparently I Read These Books Out Of Order. Who Knew?

Pride, Prejudice and Other Flavors by Sonali Dev

It is a truth universally acknowledged that only in an overachieving Indian American family can a genius daughter be considered a black sheep.

Dr. Trisha Raje is San Francisco’s most acclaimed neurosurgeon. But that’s not enough for the Rajes, her influential immigrant family who’s achieved power by making its own non-negotiable rules:

·       Never trust an outsider

·       Never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s political aspirations

·       And never, ever, defy your family

Trisha is guilty of breaking all three rules. But now she has a chance to redeem herself. So long as she doesn’t repeat old mistakes.

Up-and-coming chef DJ Caine has known people like Trisha before, people who judge him by his rough beginnings and place pedigree above character. He needs the lucrative job the Rajes offer, but he values his pride too much to indulge Trisha’s arrogance. And then he discovers that she’s the only surgeon who can save his sister’s life.

As the two clash, their assumptions crumble like the spun sugar on one of DJ’s stunning desserts. But before a future can be savored there’s a past to be reckoned with...

A family trying to build home in a new land.

A man who has never felt at home anywhere.

And a choice to be made between the two.

— Surprise, apparently this was the first book in the series. I did not know. It didn’t affect my enjoyment of the Persuasion version in this same ‘verse, which is also strange because I liked the Persuasion one way better. There was a lot of medical in this. And not super uplifting medical, either. This was like...oh the Jane character (I guess???) has cancer and either she’s going to go blind after having a surgery (also she was an artist, so you see how this was a problem) or she’s just going to decide to die. Wait, what? That came out of left field, really. Also DJ and Trisha were not nice to each other. Like, I know this is Pride and Prejudice so there has to be some of that at the start, but it wasn’t like Trisha ever really went through the Darcy-required time at Pemberly. She just decided she liked DJ and told him and it was as awkward as Jane Austen intended it, but then we got more medical and everything was cool. It felt very rushed and shoehorned into a modern setting and the Persuasion one was better. You can’t have Darcy’s growth without the Pemberly stuff. You just can’t.

In Which I Didn’t Like a Nickname??? Is the World Ending??

Crazy Stupid Bromance by Lyssa Kay Adams

Alexis Carlisle and her cat café, ToeBeans, have shot to fame after she came forward as a victim of a celebrity chef’s sexual harassment. When a new customer approaches to confide in her, the last thing Alexis expects is for the woman to claim they’re sisters. Unsure what to do, Alexis turns to the only man she trusts—her best friend, Noah Logan.   Computer genius Noah left his rebellious teenage hacker past behind to become a computer security expert. Now he only uses his old skills for the right cause. But Noah’s got a secret: He’s madly in love with Alexis. When she asks for his help, he wonders if the timing will ever be right to confess his crush.   Noah’s pals in The Bromance Book Club are more than willing to share their beloved “manuals” to help him go from bud to boyfriend. But he must decide if telling the truth is worth risking the best friendship he’s ever had.

— If Noah was going to call her Lexa, then her name should have been Alexa and not Alexis. That’s it and that’s all. Also, the story was n u t s. Estranged dads and kidney failure and they got together so fast in this book. Which usually is cool by me, but I really could not get over the nickname and the estranged family was mean to Alexis. Lexa. HER NAME SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALEXA, IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Also Noah was a former hacker? The estranged family accused him corporate espionage or something? A lot happened in this book, guys. Her name should have been Alexa.

Dumb Brother Was Dumb™ Everyone Else Was Real Cute

The Off Limits Rule by Sarah Adams

I have found rock bottom. It's here, moving in with my older brother because I'm too broke to afford to live on my own. It's okay though, because we've always been close and I think I'm going to have fun living with him again.

 That is until I meet Cooper...

 Turns out, my brother has very strong opinions on the idea of me dating his best friend and is dead set against it. According to him, Cooper is everything I should stay away from: flirtatious, adventurous, non-committal, and freaking hot. (I added that last part because I feel like you need the whole picture.) My brother is right--I should stay away from Cooper James and his pretty blue eyes. He's the opposite of what I need right now.

 Nah--who am I kidding? I'm going for it.

— This was cute, mostly mindless fluff. Hit some trope high points, including, obviously, best friends sister. Only the brother in question was a Neanderthal and I really thought people were going to make out more while said brother was on his business trip. I got it for free off Amazon. Which I think should explain a lot. Like, story-wise. Sorry, free Amazon books. Don’t be insulted.

Prose, Prose, Prose, Please Someone Have a Conversation

Trick by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Spring, Poet is renowned. He's young and pretty, a lover of men and women. He performs for the court, kisses like a scoundrel, and mocks with a silver tongue. Yet allow him this: It's only the most cunning and manipulative soul who can play the fool. For beyond the castle walls, Poet guards a secret. One the Crown would shackle him for. One that he'll risk everything to protect. Alas, it will take more than clever words to deceive Princess Briar. Convinced that he's juggling lies as well as verse, this righteous nuisance of a girl is determined to expose him. But not all falsehoods are fiendish. Poet's secret is delicate, binding the jester and princess in an unlikely alliance—and kindling a breathless attraction, as alluring as it is forbidden.

— The purplest of prose. Mauve prose. Royal purple prose. Lavender prose. There was so much writing here. So much. Too much, some might say. I say. Actually. If we want to get specific. And that was a shame, really, because when Briar and Poet actually had a conversation, they were interesting to read about. Also, the world building here? Yeeeesh. The so-called, wait for it, FOOL TRADE played a prominent role and that was...super cringe. Super Cringe. That being said, I asked Justin what I should read next and he thought it was funny that a book was just called...

Dare by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Summer, they say she's wild. Locked in a cage by the sea, Flare dreams of escape. She dreams of a lost world, known only in legends. The island is calling to her. And she won't let anyone keep her from it. Especially not him. They say he's cruel. Jeryn has crossed the ocean for the Trade, to bargain for those fierce, imprisoned creatures that make his skin crawl. By law, they're subjects meant for experimentation. And easy to despise. One girl in particular. But on the cusp of transport, the tide rages. That hidden island awaits. Stranded, the prince and prisoner must fight to survive. In a mysterious rainforest, they must band together...if they don't slay one another first. Or become something more to each other.  Something just as dangerous.

— This was Justin’s fault. He could not believe this book was just called Dare. It should have been called “We’re going to weirdly force what is basically slavery into this story and then a prince is going to fall in love with an escaped slave and we’re also going to call that ROMANCE.” y i k e s. Remember that one story that took place over three days? This was the complete opposite. Years! They were shipwrecked for years! They got saved, spoilers, the DAY they started having sex. What are the odds, right?? And then MORE YEARS passed. Multiple years! Five years! They couldn’t actually be together because of that aforementioned slave trade. What the shit, man? Natalia, ya gotta be kidding me with this. The internet claimed Trick was good and a solid follow to reading ACOTAR and that there was this whole verse and it was also good. The internet was wrong.

Nothing Happened, Everything Happened, I...Hated It

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Kristin Cashore’s bestselling, award-winning fantasy Graceling tells the story of the vulnerable-yet-strong Katsa, a smart, beautiful teenager who lives in a world where selected people are given a Grace, a special talent that can be anything from dancing to swimming. Katsa’s is killing. As the king’s niece, she is forced to use her extreme skills as his thug. Along the way, Katsa must learn to decipher the true nature of her Grace… and how to put it to good use. A thrilling, action-packed fantasy adventure (and steamy romance!) that will resonate deeply with adolescents trying to find their way in the world.

— I can’t believe this was a book. Katsa was so annoying! Like, listen, I know her life was sad. And she was a pawn being used against her will. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. The tone of the whole book was so strangely formal and Poe was strangely in love with Katsa? Who obviously didn’t want to get married because she was WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR. Or kill people, as the case may be. Only she wanted to make out with Poe? Only ONLY they didn’t even really get together at the end? I could not believe the end of this book. I nearly threw my Kindle across the room. Once again, no apologies for spoilers because do not read this book, but HE WAS BLIND? Katsa had to leave him behind to save his cousin and he just ENDED UP BEING BLIND? AND THEY NEVER GOT TOGETHER REALLY?? What the fuck? Seriously. Steamy romance, my ass. Nothing happened. The villain got defeated in point two seconds. There are other books in this universe? No, thanks.

#book recommendations #book rec #fantasy recommendations #book recs #laura reads books #this was longer than i realized it was going to be #documentation of a very weird book month #but we're almost back on track now because i am LOVING a darker shade of magic #welllp these are books

[rachelkaser]

Stay Golden Sunday: Big Daddy

Blanche’s Southern gentleman father visits with unusual news. Sophia curses a neighbor.

Picture It...

Sophia and Dorothy meet in the kitchen the morning after a big storm. Sophia is cranky because Rose woke her up, afraid and wanting comfort. All four Girls meet in the living room, where Blanche excitedly explains that her father, who she calls Big Daddy (who everyone calls Big Daddy, in fact), is coming for a visit. She excitedly reminisces about how beloved he was by her community growing up, getting caught in her remembrances of her saccharine Southern upbringing (which Dorothy finds ridiculous). Blanche hurries out to go get gifts for him.

Rose goes out to the lanai, and calls out for Sophia and Dorothy. They find that the storm has knocked a tree down on to their lanai furniture. Their next-door neighbor, Mr. Barton enters and notices the tree. When Rose says it’s fortunate his tree didn’t fall on his house instead, he takes exception to it being “his.” He refuses to move the tree despite Mrs. Barton’s attempts to smooth over the situation. When he makes a derisive remark about “you Italians” to Dorothy and Sophia, the latter gives him the Evil Eye. He’s now cursed until he moves the tree. Mr. Barton scoffs and leaves with his wife.

DOROTHY: Oh Ma, why’d you do that? You just made matters worse with that ridiculous curse. SOPHIA: Ridiculous? The curse works. Believe me. I’ve used it before. DOROTHY: Oh, when? SOPHIA: Baltimore Colts, New York Jets, 1969. Draw your own conclusions.

The next day, Dorothy says she’s confirmed via their property map that the tree definitely belongs to Mr. Barton and he has to haul it away, though Sophia still things the curse will do the trick. Blanche emerges in a mint-colored Southern Belle gown, but when she answers the door, it’s Mr. Barton. He’s convinced Sophia slashed his tires, and refuses to move the tree. Dorothy opens the door in a fury after Mr. Barton storms out, only to see Big Daddy Hollingsworth, in a Colonel Sanders suit with a ten-gallon hat on.

Blanche excitedly introduces everyone to her father. Big Daddy pays great compliments to Rose, who he compares to Dinah Shore (which... yeah, I can see it); and to Sophia, who he praises for her stunning, classical “Eye-talian” beauty. (Sophia: “You need boots to listen to this guy.”) He tells Blanche he has a surprise for her: He’ll be singing at a club the next night. Blanche is stunned, and asks why he’d do that, and he says singing is his “calling.” After he leaves, Blanche worries at his apparently out-of-character behavior, and Dorothy encourages her to talk to him instead of jumping to conclusions.

BLANCHE: I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation for why my daddy’s lost the stuffing out of his comforter.

Big Daddy returns that night, and Blanche is waiting up to talk to him. He effuses about how much he loves singing, and plays her one of his own compositions. It’s a genuinely terrible song that leaves Blanche cringing. When he finishes, she tells him this sudden career change concerns her, and tells him to go home and rest. He reveals that he sold their family home to fund his singing career, and Blanche explodes, forbidding him from continuing with his schemes. Big Daddy takes exception, and yells back until the other Girls come in. He apologizes to them and leaves the house.

Blanche is still upset and tells the Girls her father’s really gone off the deep end, selling the property he spent his lifetime building. As the Girls drift into the kitchen, Blanche is having trouble reconciling that her father is no longer the pillar he once was and has reached an age where they need to start thinking about his mental health. Dorothy and Rose comfort her, with Rose reminiscing about a time her father pulled a tuna-shaped parade float up a hill singlehandedly while dressed as a jar of mayonnaise. Blanche says her dad’s always been there to take care of her, and now she’ll have do the same for him.

BIG DADDY: You know, if there was some rain coming down, and a soft train whistle in the distance, this moment would have the makings of a first-rate country song.

The next night, Blanche, Rose, and Dorothy are off to see Big Daddy’s show at the Sagebrush Club -- Sophia declines when invited. Mr. and Mrs. Barton arrive, and Mr. Barton is a mess, asking to see “the witch.” He begs Sophia on his knees to remove the Curse, as he’s suffered several other inexplicable misfortunes. Sophia agrees when he promises to remove the tree, and he quickly hurries out. Mrs. Barton stays behind to apologize to the Girls and reveals that she did all the “curse” work to get her husband to act right.

The Girls arrive at the rather seedy Sagebrush Club, where Blanche pretends not to know every man present or that there’s a mechanical bull in the backroom. She asks a waiter about their reservations, and he reveals management canceled Big Daddy’s second show after the first show. Blanche goes backstage to comfort her father. A very stereotypical cowboy named Rusty attempts to put the moves on Dorothy and Rose, but Dorothy quickly puts the smackdown on him.

Blanche enters Big Daddy’s dressing room and tells him how sorry he is that his show was canceled. Big Daddy says he’s just going to have to try again. Blanche asks him why he’s going to continue when he’s no good. He tells her he knows he’s no good, and opens up to her about the real reason he wants to try this: He’d always wanted to have a big adventure, but settled down with Blanche’s mother. Now he wants to try something new, something adventurous. Blanche apologizes for not hearing him out, and sings the chorus of his song with him.

“Excuse me, Rose, but have I given you any indication at all that I care?”

Both the A- and B-plots this week are excellent, and the characters all have some great zingers. Big Daddy, Blanche’s very Southern father, makes his first appearance on the show, and after being talked up by Blanche both in this episode and in previous episodes, he doesn’t disappoint. He honestly wouldn’t look out of place as a one-off character on Dallas.

I find it interesting that both Rose and Blanche have already had episodes where they have to learn how to interact with their parents as adults. Dorothy and Sophia are already on that level, so I suppose it makes sense that those two need to learn how to do the same thing. Outside of Sophia, parents don’t play as big a role in this show as children do, which makes sense considering the Girls are grandparents themselves -- Big Daddy is the only one who will play any kind of recurring role.

BLANCHE: Now listen girls, my father is an old-time Southern aristocrat, who is used to fine manners and gentility. So please, please, please be on your best behavior. *they all look at Sophia* SOPHIA: Why’s everyone looking at me?!

The A-plot’s a bit melodramatic, but it’s mitigated by the scene where Big Daddy tries to sing. It’s such an hilariously terrible performance, but I think the funniest part actually comes from the audience. After he strums the final note on his guitar, there’s a beat for the audience reaction, and you can hear one or two members hesitantly start to clap, as if they’re not sure if that’s the expected reaction, but other than that it’s silence until Blanche says her line.

This is one of the final roles of character actor Murray Hamilton. It’s not often I get to say an actor appeared on both of my favorite older TV shows: Golden Girls and Perry Mason. If only he’d also appeared on I Love Lucy, then I’d get the hat trick -- I’m still looking for the actor who was on all three. Hamilton died just four months after the episode aired, which is presumably why the character was recast when he appears in a later episode. He’s very convincing as Blanche’s gentlemanly father, even though he was only 10 years older than Rue McClanahan. Though it is a bit disconcerting that Blanche’s father looks younger than some of the men she’s dated.

No one says how old Big Daddy is, but presumably since Blanche is in her 50s (she wouldn’t admit that on pain of death, but come on, she has a 16-year-old grandson), he’s got to be in his late 70s, early 80s. While it might be a bit late to launch a career as a country-western singer (who does Beatle medleys for some reason), the message that you’re never too old to try new things and your mental health should not be called into question for it is still a good one.

That said, the part that worries me is when he tells Blanche, almost as an afterthought, that he’s sold his family estate to fund his new venture. Since that’s a property that presumably his four children would have grown up on and that they’re now not going to inherit, it’s actually kind of concerning that he just sold it without making any of them aware of it. I know I got on Kirsten back in the episode about Rose’s will for acting entitled to her mother’s money and getting mad that Rose would have spent it, and I still stand by that.

SOPHIA: Play it safe. Stick with the curse. DOROTHY: Ma, I’ve stayed with you all these years. *Sophia raises her hand to administer the Evil Eye again*

But the difference here being Blanche is more upset that he would do something so impulsive after having spent so much of his life building up that estate -- and I’m with her on that, not because it points to a potential health problem, but because it’s reckless and foolish. And it doesn’t really get resolved. Blanche just agrees to support her father and doesn’t seem to address the fact that he’s now effectively homeless.

One of the funniest parts of the episode is at the beginning, when Blanche is reminiscing about her Southern upbringing and makes it sound like she grew up 100 years in the past -- what with all the sipping mint juleps under an old magnolia and exchanging prize-winning pecan pie recipes. That’s funny enough, but what makes it funnier is that Dorothy and Sophia have about as much patience as you’d expect two Brooklyn women to have for such gauzy nonsense:

DOROTHY: Tell me Blanche, during any of this, would the farmhands suddenly break into a chorus of “Dem Old Cotton Fields Back Home?” ... BLANCHE: I want him to feel right at home. SOPHIA: Then get the Millers across the street to tar and feather their lawn jockey.

The B-plot is what really makes this episode great. While Blanche and her father working out their issues is engaging enough, but Sophia steals the show when she goes to war with Mr. Barton. The Evil Eye she directs his way is nothing short of epic. I also enjoy that Dorothy is just as invested in it as her mother is, getting equally offended at being referred to as “You Italians,” she tries to get Mr. Barton to back down through the power of civic justice and a property map, and when all else fails, echoes her mother calling him “Mouth,” albeit accidentally to Big Daddy.

Also, bravo to this show for fleshing out Mrs. Barton. She appears in two scenes and at first appears to do nothing but try ineffectively to correct her jerk husband. Then comes the revelation that she was actually responsible for all the misfortunes that befell him -- I admire her ingenuity, because that’s the only way a stubborn bastard like her husband would ever apologize to his neighbors, despite clearly being in the wrong.

DOROTHY: Blanche, who do we see about our table? BLANCHE: Oh I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve ever been here. RUSTY: Well howdy Blanche! COWBOY: Howdy Blanche. Ladies. BLANCHE: No, I’m wrong. I think the museum did have its Christmas party here.

By the way, is it just me, or is there a lot of interest in Sophia’s Italian-ness this episode? Not only is her subplot about the Sicilian evil eye (when I was a kid, I thought that was made up -- I’m obviously not even remotely Italian), but Mr. Barton uses it as an insult, and then Big Daddy compliments her “Eye-talian” beauty. Sophia’s Sicilian flavor is one of my favorite things about her, and this episode has some of her best moments.

Out of all the characters, Rose is the one who ends up getting short shrift this week. I’m noticing something from this first season: Whenever there’s an episode where one Girl is left out of the bulk of the story, the writers compensate by giving her a big monologue in roughly the middle of the episode, usually in the kitchen over cheesecake. Once you notice the pattern, it’s impossible to un-notice it -- several episodes in this first season alone have followed this pattern.

ROSE: What on earth do you do with a mechanical bull? DOROTHY: Introduce him to a mechanical cow, Rose.

Still, if Betty White only gets a handful of lines and one monologue this week, she makes full use of them, and it’s especially cute that, unlike Dorothy and Sophia, she seems to enjoy the very Southern-ness that Blanche and her father exude, saying “It’s like being in Gone with the Wind!”

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰🍰 (four cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

The entire curse B-plot, especially the lines: “I can’t sleep! I can’t eat!” “You can’t sit.”

#golden girls #stay golden #picture it #stay golden sunday #blanche devereaux #sophia petrillo #rose nylund #dorothy zbornak #s01e24 #big daddy

[eponymiad]

Queen’s Thief Appreciation Day Four: An AU (this is a country western AU. Drag me for it, if you must. I deserve it. But it has been a JOY to write). 

Irene's friends drag her out to a country western bar. She's less than thrilled to be there. Helen's obnoxious cousin, on the other hand, is thrilled.

*

Irene can’t believe her friends tricked her into a night out at this godforsaken country western bar again. She’s leaning against a wall in the darkest, emptiest corner of the bar and she’s— well, she’s painfully aware of what a TV stereotype she looks like, brooding in a corner, sipping her double whiskey and glowering at the crowded dance floor. She’s not going to pretend otherwise.

She’s still annoyed when her brooding is interrupted.

“Those are really cool earrings.”

She jumps at the sudden voice in her ear, close and loud enough to be heard over the music. Irene turns to look at the guy, who looks pleased to have gotten a reaction. How the hell hadn’t she seen him walk up?

Irene knows him, but can’t seem to place him. He’s got warm, brown skin; dark, curly hair, and... Oh. He only has one hand.

Helen’s cousin.

Irene can’t remember his name— something old-school, maybe a family name? Or religious?— even though they’ve met a few times, at bars and parties. He’s much younger, and from what she can remember, immature and desperate for attention.

Clearly that hasn’t changed. He’s managed to take the western theme entirely too seriously. He’s in a Nudie suit — dear gods, did he own this already? — embroidered with erupting volcanoes, some men sword-fighting, and what looks, inexplicably, like elephants. His brown leather cowboy boots have matching gold accents, and his double ear piercing includes a thin gold hoop and what looks like a carved sapphire stud. The entire outfit is ridiculously over the top.

Much to Irene’s irritation, it actually works.

“What?” she says. She’s distracted.

“Your earrings — they’re really cool,” he repeats.

Her hand flies up to the golden bees dangling from her ears. They’re her favorite earrings, inherited from her mother. She wouldn’t have worn them tonight if she had known she’d be coming here. “Thank you.”

He smiles at her, warm and friendly, if a little awkward. “Gen, by the way,” he says loudly, talking over the noise. “I know we’ve met but, well.” He gestures at the loud, drunken space around them as if that explains why he expected her to have forgotten him.

It probably does.

“Irene.”

“I remember,” he says with another warm smile. It tugs at something in her chest.  

“But really, what’re you doing wearing those earrings here? Those are the nicest things this bar has ever seen,” he says.

She gives his Nudie suit a once over.

“Well,” Eugenides says, with a thoughtful head tilt. “Maybe tied for the nicest thing.”

“Mmm,” she says, and half-turns back to look at the dance floor, worrying one of her earrings between her thumb and forefinger. “I thought we were going to dinner.”

From the corner of her eye, Irene can see he brightens, though she can’t imagine why.

“Well, you’d have to ask me out first, but I’d say your chances are pretty good.”

Her single raised eyebrow belies the hitch in her breath she manages to hide. That was obnoxiously smooth.

“I’m going to dance,” he says, left hand — only hand — palm up, tilted slightly toward her in offering. “Join me?”

She looks at him. “No.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself. It was nice talking to you, Irene,” he says, and waltzes off to the dance floor. Within seconds, he’s found someone else to dance with.

*

Irene is leaning against the bar, a fresh drink in her hand, when the music shifts to something upbeat and familiar. Oh — apparently they’ve moved on to the line dancing part of the night.

She’s watching the drunken crowd dance to “Cotton-Eye Joe” when she spots Gen. He’s front and center, dancing in a group, and somehow, inexplicably…he’s good.

A line dance to “Cotton-Eyed Joe” isn’t supposed to be something anyone is good at — it’s a dance they teach five-year-olds in PE. It doesn’t involve any actual skill.

Except apparently it does. Gen is moving with a practiced grace that shouldn’t be allowed at a country western bar. He’s dancing in time with Helen and five or six other people who look as though they could be relatives . Irene wonders if they’re one of those families — it happens sometimes, a group shows up who is so good it blows everyone else in the room out of the water.

Irene can’t stop watching them.

Eugenides looks over at the bar and catches her eye. She still can’t bring herself to look away. He gives her a giant, toothy grin and, without ever looking at his dance partners, slips his right arm over one man’s shoulder, his left arm around a woman’s waist, and together they lift two women off the ground for a spin.

*

“Red wine, please. And a cup of water?”

Gen has appeared at her side again, fresh off the dance floor, face sweaty and hair a little wild.  

The bartender looks back at him funny. Gen tilts his head, feigning ignorance. Irene snorts. Gen doesn’t turn, but she sees a tiny upward tilt at the corner of his mouth.

The bartender rolls his eyes and pours the wine without any more fuss. Gen’s smile is victorious when the other man looks away.

Drinks in hand, Gen turns toward her. “Having fun?”

“Definitely,” she says, sarcastically. “Nothing more fun than fending off drunk assholes at a bar.”

Eugenides wrinkles his nose. “Well, I’m not that drunk. But point taken,” he says, with a nod, and starts to leave.

Ah, shit.

“No,” she says, with a quick hand on his elbow. He freezes. “I meant— Not you.”

“Ah,” is all he says, and takes a sip of his wine. “Why’re you here, then? Aside from admiring my dance moves.”

She gestures at the throng of people. “Got dragged out by friends. If I leave, they’ll just make me go out next weekend. If I stand here and drink my whiskey while they dance with drunk strangers, it buys me another two months.” She shrugs.  

Gen smiles. “Do you want to get some air?” he says, and gestures at the exit with his right arm.

Irene debates. She doesn’t want to give him the wrong impression — she knows what men are like. One yes and suddenly they think they’re entitled to positive answers the rest of the night. Alternatively, he seems marginally less drunk than everyone else who has approached her, and it’ll get her away from the guy who’s been leering at her across the bar for 20 minutes now.

“Sure,” she says, and heads toward the door without waiting to see if he follows.

*

Of course he follows.

Outside, where the din from the club is distant, they have a real conversation. He lives up in the mountains, and hates horses, and asks for the story behind her earrings. She tells him about the vintage jewelry collection her mom left behind, and about running her dad’s company.

“What do you do? Or are you still in school or...?”

Eugenides laughs.”I’m a computer hacker, basically. But an ethical one,” he assures her.

“What does that even mean?”

“Companies pay me to break into their systems and expose security threats. It’s fun,” he says, and waggles his eyebrows a little. Irene laughs despite herself.

They chat some more, but eventually there’s a lull in the conversation that neither of them seem to know how to fill. She’s swirling the ice in her glass idly, fighting her desperation to be home with a reluctance to end the conversation.

“Do you want another drink?” Gen says tentatively, like maybe he thought she was angling for him to buy her one.

“No, I think I’m going to head home,” she says, because the...everything is getting to her, the concentration of stimulus and emotions making her skin itch,

“Oh, okay,” he says, and he definitely sounds disappointed. Which, again, is the problem with ever telling men yes.

“I need to close out my tab though,” she says. He nods, and makes his way toward the door.

*

The dancing looks fun. It always looks fun. It’s the actual act of dancing that’s less than enjoyable. Crowded dance floors, strangers trying to touch you, people watching…

Irene wishes — though she’ll rarely even admit it to herself — that she could dance with the carefree abandon she’s seen people like Eugenides relish in her entire life. Unfortunately, she wasn’t afforded that luxury.

Irene is eying people on the dance floor while she waits for the bartender to finish up with someone else. She sees Eugenides watching her in her periphery. She looks at him. Gone is the shy kid from two minutes ago. The sly smile is back. It’s like he can see through her; it’s unnerving.

“Irene...do you want to dance?”

She hesitates, but just for a second. Fuck it.

Gen looks delighted.

He leads her out to the dance floor. The song switches just as they find an empty spot, and Irene freezes. She’s not going to do a fucking square dance, and she’s certainly not going to do it with him. Gen might have a modified choreography with his relatives, but that doesn’t mean he can manage to dance one-handed with a woman who barely knows the steps. She’s awful at following dances she doesn’t already know. She’s going to fuck this up and embarass them both.  

Somehow, Gen picks up on her exact freakout. He shakes his head. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ve got you. Just reach for me like you’re expecting my right hand, but I only use my left.”  

And he does.

Irene is fairly certain she wouldn’t be able to explain, even in an hour, how the hell Gen does it, but she makes it through the entire dance without messing up a single time. It’s entirely thanks to him.

It’s also...very fun.

She’s not sure how long they’ve been dancing, but Gen is spinning her every few seconds to something carefree and upbeat, her hair slipping out of her bun, when a very large man puts an arm on Eugenides’s shoulder to get his attention. Irene recognizes him from earlier — she’s fairly certain he’s one of the cousins.

“Gen,” says the man, with an accent so heavy she can hear it from the first word. “We have to go.”

Gen looks at his cousin sharply. “Why?”

“Boagus,” the man says with a heavy eye roll. “Got into a fight outside.”

Gen narrows his eyes up at the man, but eventually shakes his head in resignation.

The tall man looks from Irene to Eugenides. “I’ll meet you outside,” he says over the music, and walks off.

Eugenides turns to her. “What luck you have,” he says, and his smile is back to shy. He hesitates for a second.

Irene wants to say something — though she has no idea what — and she’s probably being ridiculous — when Gen leans forward just enough for her to realize what he’s going to do. He pauses, and gives her time to pull away. Instead, she can feel herself swaying toward him just enough that he takes it as invitation to close the gap.

He has his hand on her jaw, angling her face down toward his just a little. The kiss is far too soft and sweet for the middle of a sweaty dance floor, surrounded by drunken fools and loud, pounding music.

It’s a really nice kiss.

When he pulls away, he grins at her, a full-faced thing that makes his eyes twinkle.

“Bye,” he says, with a quick wave, and he’s gone.  

What the fuck was that?

*

Irene kicks off her kitten heels and dumps her purse on her silver entryway table the second she’s through the door.

This was a weird night, and she’s so relieved to be home she could cry. Her skin is still prickling from the kiss-and-dash, and all she wants to do is scrub the night off of her with a hot shower.

She gets the water running, and doubles back for her phone while it heats up. Maybe she’ll put on some music — ABBA or Beirut or literally anything but country music.

She flips open her crossbody bag, and sees a folded napkin she definitely didn’t put in there. Opening it, she recognizes the horse and lilies from the bar’s logo. Scribbled in terrible handwriting just below it is a name and number—

Gen

471-288-6547

*

Find it on AO3 here! 

My ETERNAL, undying love to @helvetica-upstart for the life-changing betas. 

#qtappreciationweek #I take full responsibility for my actions bUT ALAS THE FATES WANT WHAT THEY WANT #queen's thief #queen’s thief #these disaster humans y'all #BUT THEY'RE VERY CUTE AND THEY LIKE EACH OTHER A LOT OKAY?

[the-crowess]

Altrovough: Adventure on Every Horizon

Chapter 1: Out of the Dark I hadn't been playing for six months. Not because it had become too expensive. Not because work became too much for me. Not because I got a significant other. Not because the community was bad or anything like that. No, I hadn't played in six months because my avatar was stuck in a trap.

            There are glitches, you see. Somehow in this modern VR experience there are still glitches. And with glitches comes assholes who use those glitches to their advantage.

            So, here's what happened to me: Me and my party went into a dungeon. We split up. Two went one way, two went the other, and I (though I protested) was by myself. Even though I had a lantern when I walked down into the hallway it was completely black. That should have been my first clue that this was a trap of some sort. My lantern still had fire, but no light was being produced from it. Being promised treasure and being a dumbass, I continued forward into the dark. After walking just far enough into the hallway to make the doorway disappear, I sprung a tile trap.

            The floor beneath me sloped downward and I fell rolling after it. Head over heels I fell until I smacked my face and passed out.

            I woke up in chains. I was propped up against a wall. My wrists above my head were on short chains, and my ankles on longer chains.

            Okay, I thought, no biggy. I'll just restart the day.

            Okay, so that didn't work. Which is weird... I'll call my party members...

            No service? What the fuck? That's not even an element in this game!

            Well, uh, okay I guess I'll just bust out of these—rusty—old—chains!

            ...

            Nope.

            After exhausting my options, then exhausting them again I logged off.

For months I kept receiving messages that players were interacting with my avatar, so I would log on, only for them to laugh at me and be utterly and completely unhelpful.

            My party visited me four separate times. And all of those times were to make fun or my misfortune, even though they knew that ANYTIME they could unlock the chains and release me. The first time it was all of them together. The captain Jockster (or Jerkstar as I call him) had squatted down in front of me and said, "this is what you get, you know. Playing this way has consequences. Thanks for taking one for the team." Then he had laughed like the drug addicted jackass he was. The others laughed with him. The second time it was only Aliciandria (our rouge) and Marlquan (our cleric). They had been discussing what to do with me when Alicandria accidentally kicked my foot and I responded, and I woke up to them talking about if they should just kill me so that they wouldn't have to worry about how people were judging them for not helping me. The third time it was just Havanio (the sorcerer). He woke me up, then sat across from me and said nothing for an hour. He just sat there like a fucking douchebag and looked at me like I was some caged beast put there for his entertainment. And the last time doesn't matter.

            Players of all kinds and from all districts would stop by only to laugh at me. I became a joke, and even more that that I became a meme! Screenshots of my avatar hanging there like a prisoner spread all over the internet. To add to my torture, a player whose avatar was a homely goblin woman would harass me constantly.

            Behind the happy smile of someone who literally baked cookies for visitors was a demented maniac. This guy—I know she is a he because he fucking DM'd me dick pics. I think he harassed me for three reasons: 1) I fell right into his trap 2) My avatar is a hot man and I think Little Miss Goblin Man is gay or more likely bi and uncomfortable with his sexuality 3) I think he thought he figured out that the gender of my avatar and the gender of myself might not be the same, and he was definitely trying to intimidate me. This asshole physically and sexually harassed my avatar, and I couldn't even report it!

            Not like I didn't try to report it—when I did the staff would send in an NPC (Non-Player Character) and see literally nothing. So, in this trap: it's a glitch mixed with a non-invasive virus; meaning the virus only effects this one spot and not the whole server or game. It can't get into your computer. It like can't get past the firewalls or something I don't really know.

            So, not only did this jack-wad figure out a way to trap me, but he also figured out how to keep his dirty deeds hidden from the staff. For almost three months I continued to check in. Two weeks after the initial incident I jumped at every UAN (Unconscious Avatar Notification) but I quickly learned that nobody wanted to help me, they all just wanted to see if the rumors were true and maybe get a picture. Eventually I stopped responding and eventually my avatar fell out of the popular meme rotation.

...

BEEP. BEEP. UAN! Someone's interacting with your character! 😊

BEEP. BEEP. UAN!! Someone's interacting with your character.

BEEP. BEEP. UAN!!! Respond you asshole! You should log on!

"Uhg! Fine!"

I left my lunch (thinking I would return to it real soon) and went to my game room to log on.

I woke to a girl poking my cheek. I snapped at her fingers.

"Oh! Fuck!" She pulled her hand away, shaking off the close call, "you're hard to wake up! Not much for answering your UAN's huh?"

Standing over me was a girl of maybe nineteen. Her clothes draped and flowed about figure in Cleric glory. Great. A fucking cleric. She wouldn't've stood out more. Dark skin with undoubtably "sea green" eyes. Her hair was done up in some completely unattainable style that was loopy with braids and pigtails sectioned into pompoms; it was a shade of maroon that says, "I'm a supporting character, but I want to think I'm a main character!"

"Is it true you've been down here six months?"

"O.O.G."

"What?"

"Out. Of. Game. I've been 'down here' six months out of game."

"Holy cow, man! That's a while."

"Did you need something?"

"Excuse me?"

I made cold eye contact with her, "Did. You. Need. Something?"

"Uh... wellllllll, I heard a rumor that there was some poor fuck stuck down here who can't get himself out."

"Oh. Fantastic." An awkward silence split between us, "well, thanks for stopping by. Take a screenshot, it'll last longer."

She stared blankly at me, "no. I think you misunderstand. I'm here to help you."

"What."

"I'm here to help you."

I couldn't think. Couldn't fathom this thing unfolding in front of me, "what?"

She began to fiddle with the chains on my wrist.

"Wait, no!"

She looked down at me the way a mom would look at her two-year-old who says he doesn't want to eat mashed potatoes because they have eyes and he doesn't want to eat mashed eyeballs.

"Wait." As my heart pounded loudly in my chest, I asked her, "what do you want from me? Like, you—you can't just want to let me go. You must want something from me."

She sat back down on her heels and looked away, her lips followed her eyes away from me and back, and she said, "Well, no. Not really. Like I said: I heard there might be some poor fuck who was trapped and couldn't get out on his own. I thought for my first adventure, I'd go get 'im." Then she went right back to messing with the chains.

I laughed and shook my head.

She stood up and put her hands on her hips, pouting. Lordy, she was cute. The puzzled look on her face gave me some hope that maybe she might actually be able to save me. With a huff she sat down again and confessed, "you're the only reason I got this game. You're a meme, a legend. You're so classic that you're practically nonexistent. Every time this game comes up in social media you're mentioned. On all the subreddits, and in the deepest parts of tumblr—you're there. I just had to come see if you were real, and I was—and still am—planning that if you were actually here that I would help you out."

"No catch?"

"No catch."

I smiled to myself, knowing now that it was I who had the advantage. I could use her. After all, every party needs a healer. Now I just had to make sure she wouldn't ditch me anytime soon. "Are you sure you don't want to try and find a catch? I was a level 52 before this whole ordeal."

She perked up, "what's your level now, cowboy?"

"35."

"What?! You're so dilapidated and all your equipment was stolen. H-HOW?"

"Cause I'm just that awesome." This should do it.

"I've changed my mind!"

Perfect.

"I want you as a bodyguard! For two years—"

"One year."

"Alright, one year." She looked like she wanted to ask me to shake on it, but then thought better of it, "can I please help you out now?"

"Yes."

Very quickly, and with very little trouble she released me from my chains. Bruises and scars tattooed my wrists and ankles. How the coding of this game works is literally so fucking far beyond me. I pulled my limbs into myself, feeling the stiff resistance of time.

"Can you get up?"

Without needing to consider it I said, "no, I don't think so. Do you have any potions that will give me a boost?"

"Oh yes! I knew that if I found you, you'd need medical help immediately, so I spent all the gold from my—"

"All your gold??? Are you stupid?"

"Whaaaa? I-I... I—just—"

"Whatever. We'll figure it out. What potions do you have?"

She nodded very curtly, and pulled up her bag contents and read them off to me: "fifteen Good Health Potions, fifteen Great Health Potions, fifteen Fantastic Health Potions, ten Boost 'Ems, seven Leaves Of Health, two Gladiator Liquid Bandages and two Beats of Life. What'll it be?"

"Gimme a Boost 'Em."

She tapped on the icon and a Boot 'Em materialized in her hand. She put it out to me, but when I grabbed for it, she pulled away. I of course made eye contact with her, thinking she was gonna pull a fast one on me. Instead she said, "Valhalla."

"What?" My immediate confusion fell away into fear. This must be a trick. But why would she do that? It doesn't make any sense. I'm clearly smarter than her. It's me that's tricking her, why would she—

"That's my name. Valhalla."

The interruption of my panicked thinking threw me off guard. That's a stupid name. Before I could tell her how stupid I thought her name was she put the Boost 'Em in my hand.

Taking the potion, I had trouble removing the cork. Valhalla silently offered her help, but I shooed her away. I grumbled something about how I was perfectly capable of doing it myself.

With much effort and significant struggling, I yanked the cork out and threw it over my shoulder. Only for it to bounce off the wall and back into my lap. With the kind of drunken vigor seen at taverns I swallowed the creamy blue liquid. The moment it touched my lips, a feeling of power hit me like caffeine in a low-calorie energy drink. Going down my throat it felt like warm milk and honey. Electrifying energy flowed outward from my middle. It snaked its way through my arms and legs. It made my fingers and toes tingle like pins and needles.

I leapt up, a new man. I knew this wouldn't last long, and I knew that later this would end up hurting me more, but fuck.

Fuck this feels good.

"Do you have any weapons?"

"Uh, yeah." Valhalla pulled up her bag again and tapped on the Equipment tab. "What do you want?"

There were certainly more weapons than should have been in her bag if she had just started, let alone had spent all her starter gold on potions. I chose to ignore this. "I'll take the mace." I reached up and engaged with the weapon. The heavy steel handle materialized in my outstretched hand. By the look on her face, it must have been the first time Valhalla had seen anyone engage. I'm glad I was able to be the one to show her, in all the glory I could muster.

"This is a pretty nasty weapon, baby." I swung it a couple of times, feeling the weight; testing the blow power.

"I picked it up because I liked the color!"

I laughed, "I guess I overlooked the purple steel, but this will do nicely."

"Nicely for what?"

"Do me a favor, doll. You see that door over there? Go knock."

"Okay, but," she came right up close to me and stuck her face in mine, "I'm not a fucking doll."

"Noted."

I followed her as she warily walked to the door of the goblin woman's kitchen. Valhalla knocked timidly on the door.

"Come in!" The goblin wench cooed, "I just baked some fresh cookies! We can pose next to the body if you want!"

I caught Valhalla frown and furrow her brows at "the body".

Oh how sweet this will taste, I thought as adrenaline pumped through my veins. I passed in front of Valhalla whispering, "stay back."

I slid through the open door. The goblin hag had her back to me, this couldn't have been planned more perfectly. I crept up behind her with my mace raised above my head and my six-foot-five shadow engulfed her. She turned around with horror, a tray of cookies in hand. Her eyes widened and she tensed as if she were to scream.

But I didn't give her a chance.

"Your actions have consequences."

I let the mace fall down upon her head. The crack of her skull resonated harmoniously with the clang of the cookie sheet on the ground. Giddy joy sprung forth from me as I smashed the mace into her again and again. The second blow shattered her ribcage. Her ribs sprang up and splintered through her tissue. Smashing her hands made her fingers pop off, they flew in all directions. A blow to her thigh created a fountain. Warm blood hit my bare chest, my exposed legs. It splattered on my face. It coated my hands. It made the mace slippery in my hands. Her blood soaked what little was left of my shorts. It sprayed the walls, the kitchy table and chairs, the coffee pot and baking ingredients. Blood decorated the cookies that now laid scattered on the floor. 

Satisfied by the pulpy mound of oozing, squirting flesh and bone I subsided. Reaching down, I tore a blood-soaked rag from her dress. Turning to the wall I wrote LEAVE.

Standing back, I let out a heavy sigh. The effects of the Boost 'Em would soon wear off. I turned around and cracked my neck. I looked over in Valhalla's direction, but over her head. "I need some new clothes." I declared.

She stared at me. Her eyes pulled mine in and her mouth morphed into a grin, "fuck. YEAH!"

"Huh??????"

"Dude she called you 'the body'. And we both know that she was the reason you were stuck down here. Plus: THAT WAS AWESOME!!! I am so glad I came to find you! Best $130 dollars I ever spent." She then ran up and hugged me. The contact made me tense up.

I shook out of her embrace, "let's get out of this dungeon."

She led the way out. It was different from the way I had come in. We walked down the hallway that I had stared at for so long, hoping that somebody, anybody would come for me. Not ten feet into the tunnel we turned a corner and there was the exit. My stomach dropped. I felt sick.

It had been so close the whole time. Learning this made me want to revive that sonofabitch just to kill her all over again.

Emerging into the sunlight hurt my eyes. I was blinded.

What a sight we must have been. Myself: six-five, soaked in blood, starved, almost naked. Her: small, sweet-looking, fresh-faced, and not a drop of blood on her.

I still couldn't really see when somebody started talking. "Hey, are you guys okay?"

"Oh, we're fine," Valhalla sang sweetly sang sweetly next to me. At that very moment, I lost all my energy. My health bar plummeted, and sirens rang through my headset. My vison flashed red. I fell to the ground.

The group that had approached watched, alarmed. Valhalla looked like she wanted to eat her words.

Stupid girl. She had no idea what to do.

I had fifteen seconds before I'd die. This had happened once before when my former party and I had just started the game. We got attacked by a level 20 dragon and one strike had me seeing red.

10 seconds.

They were bickering about the best course of action. They had no idea I was on the brink of death. Valhalla stared at me looking like a lost idiot.

The sky began to spin. Valhalla's blurry silhouette swayed above me.

Did she forget about all that stuff she bought? How many gaming hours did she log before she came to find me? Did she even go on the tutorial adventure? I mean, you can technically skip it, but—

"BEAT." I coughed out then my head lolled.

The party erupted into tense panic.

5 seconds.

Oh please, please Valhalla. Please don't let me die. After all, you told me you came to save me. So save me!

Just as if she could hear my internal pleas, a beat was shoved in my mouth and my jaw forced upward from the outside to crush it. The juicy tuber gushed in my mouth. I felt Valhalla's hand on my lips, pressing down to keep everything in. I'd heard rumors of the experience of Beat of Life. Some players said they almost wish their party members would have let them die. The juice was hot, potent, and sour. So sour is made my jaw ache. It felt like someone was twisting a wheel, making my jaw tighter and tighter. My teeth felt like they were going to pop out of their gums. It burned my throat, made my eyes water and my nose run. My stomach did not want to accept it. I wanted to throw up, but I couldn't move. Hot flashes waved through my body. An ocean of churning heat pushed and pulled at my organs, my brain. I could feel myself sweating. Growing hotter by the moment. My head swam. My limbs grew numb. I passed out.

I was saved. Unconscious, but saved.

But Valhalla didn't know that. Stupid girl, skipping the tutorial. What was she thinking? Guess I'd have to ask her when I woke up.

And so I took off my headset and it was dusk.

#writing #write #story #creative writing #swear words #lots of swearing #tw #crude humor #violence #gore #gore tw #violence tw #video games #viddy games #video game story #original fiction #fantasy #high fantasy #tw swearing #vr #virtual reality #vrgame #vr game

[amara-scott]

Halloween

Movie: Blackkklansman Characters: Phil Zimmerman x Reader Categories: M’sorry this is long, everything? lil smutty at the end

So, yes- I may get a little more excited for unimportant holidays than the usual American citizen should. But does that mean others have to be cranky or a grump? No. Why not just go with the flow and enjoy some free candy?

"Okay- I get that you don't like it, but what's your costume going to be?" I ask Zimmerman as I sit on his desk at work, looking through a catalogue of adult costumes. Extremely boring ones, might I add. The ones you see in every store and every commercial.

I hear his sigh and glance over the edge of the current page. He rolls his eyes, not looking up from the paper he's reading. Jimmy laughs behind me, Ron joining in. I give them a grin, like every year, I love teasing poor Phil.

"Not happening this year." He mumbles, taking a sip of his coffee, grimacing afterwords. Probably already cold. I hop off his desk and take the mug.

"I'll give you time to think while I get you a fresh, hot coffee—" I walk out the office, patting his shoulder as I go and make out Ron who can't contain his snickering. He receives a glare from Flip but no further comment. I hurry and greet a couple guys in the kitchen.

"Flip! Hey, I have an idea guys. Since it's my turn to host the dinner, we'll all keep it a secret what we dress up as. What do you say?" I place the steaming mug next to Flip's papers and he groans, leaning back and looking at me.

"Seriously? Why do we have to dress up at all?"

"Flip, why not?" I point at Ron, agreeing with his question.

"You're my favorite officer, you know that, Stallworth?" I walk over to him and place a hand on his shoulder as we share a smile.

"Hey." Jimmy says, I look over and wave him off.

"You know very well you're high up on the rank as well." He sighs relieved and sinks back into his chair with a grin.

"What about Flip?" Ron asks, smirking and we all glance over at Phil. He's obviously listening but trying to ignore us, head down and pen ready to write.

"Officer Zimmerman? Oh, I don't know. He's been quite rude lately. I would say— just below Landers."

"Hey!" His head snaps up and he frowns at me, all of us chuckling at his expression. I skip over and lean my elbows on his desk.

"You know what to do to change that." I wink at him and stand back up straight, walking toward the office door. "I'll see you on Saturday then, no more complaints." I raise an eyebrow at Flip at the end, him sighing deeply but nodding. I grin and wave, turning. My bell pants moving and flowing with my long strides.

___

I wait for Patrice to come over that Saturday. She helps me with the food and dips, decorations and music. As Bobby Pickett's Monster Mash is playing in the background, we get ready, dressing up in our costumes.

I slip into my rather tight Bat Girl suit and Patrice in her Wonder Woman outfit. I place the crown in the perfect spot in her wild hair and we help each other touch up on our makeup. We giggle as we pose, taking polaroids and skipping through my small house like we were saving the world. I'm about to take some more popcorn to throw at her but we hear a knock, freezing and I grin, walking over to the door. I see Patrice straightening her outfit, making sure everything's in place.

I open the door and peek outside, seeing my three favorite men of the night. I can't help but burst out laughing, Jimmy dressed up as Tin Man from Wizard of Oz. Even his face is painted silver, shining brighter than my glitter eyeshadow. Patrice walks over and giggles, welcoming Ron and I hug him afterwards. With Jimmy I try to keep his face a little further from mine.

Ron honestly couldn't have picked a better costume. His name tag reading Agent Bond. Which he kind of was. A really good undercover detective. And a secretive bag in his hand.

And Flip? Flip wore a flannel, his hair as messy as ever and Jeans and boots as usual. I don't want to frown, not showing him that it disappoints me he didn't put any effort into it. I really do like him, and I know he likes me too. We spent many evenings together, staying longer at diners and bars than the others. Talking and exchanging looks. Maybe I'm just overreacting.

"Good you're here Flip." I give him a smile and hug him, wondering why he is so quiet. I raise an eyebrow as we pull away and lead them all inside, showing them the food filled table and offer them beers.

Patrice and Ron sit together, Jimmy on one end and the seat next to Flip still open. I feel his eyes on me as I walk between kitchen and dining room. I also picked the costume because it honestly just looked really good. It sparkles just like Yvonne Craig's version, purple and tight. I pull up my mask and sit down next to Flip, trying not to be too mad at him. It's just a costume for goodness sake. Or rather the lack of one.

"Hey Flip, what do you think of (Y/N)'s costume?" Jimmy says, biting into a piece of meat, raising his silvery eyebrows. Ron smiles, glancing up at Flip too. He hasn't even eaten anything yet, is he grumpy today?

"Yeah and what about the food, you don't like it? I'm sorry that I invited you- won't happen again-" I let out, growing more angry every second he's just sitting there. He looks like he's trying to suppress a grin, struggling to keep a straight face. I frown, not sure what's going on. Jimmy and Ron join in and Patrice too after Ron whispered something in her ear.

"I think you look bloody good tonight, Bat Girl." Flip says, turning to me and I glance at his mouth, wondering why his words sound muffled. He grins at me and my eyes grow wide. Vampire teeth. Everyone starts laughing and I can't help but giggle, slapping his arm. He's unbelievable.

"Just for you." He says, quickly taking out the teeth and drying his mouth.

"Well I have to admit- that was good." I say, taking my beer and holding it up to the others.

"To a fun night with Bond, Tin Man, Wonder Woman and- a wanna-be-Dracula." We all toast and take a sip, I finally feel relaxed and take another glance at Flip, shaking my head at him as he looks back at me, winking.

___

We let movies roll in the background and played Pass Out while eating and laughing. Once we finished the game and Flip won, having ten pink elephant cards first, he raises his fists in the air, Ron and Jimmy groaning in annoyance as he gets his last tongue twister right. I feel very tipsy, not used to too much booze. Who could have figured that Ron would bring that game?

I lower one of Flip's arms, shushing him. "Calm down, cowboy. It's just a game." I hear myself slur at the end, frowning. I need water.

"No way, I've never seen you drunk before, Batsy." Flip responds and I click my tongue, trying to stand up. I had to wait a second before actually moving toward the kitchen. "Hey, hey— let me help you." A hand wraps around my waist, holding me to their side. I look up at Flip and nod.

"Thanks." I say quietly, my cheeks warm and eyes glossy. "I want water." I mumble and he helps me sit down at the small kitchen table, leaving me and returning with a glass of what I hope is water.

I take a sip and frown, a weird taste after all the beer, wine and whiskey we had this night. "You doing alright? Feel like you need to throw up?" I groan, not wanting to even think about it. I lean forward on the table, head in my hands and close my eyes for a moment.

"You want me to bring you upstairs?" He suggests, his voice sounding closer than last time he spoke. I glance over my fingers and he sits beside me, rubbing my back now, beneath my costume cape.

"No, I'm good-" I hiccup, holding a hand to my lips and growing even warmer in the face as Flip chuckles, running a hand through his hair and standing up, holding out a hand to me. I sigh taking it and his other hand is back around my waist, holding me up. I can walk myself, I want to pull away but am not strong enough. Maybe it's good he's holding me.

"Hey guys, the host needs to lay down, I'll bring her to bed." I frown at Flip, shaking my head.

"No, I'm fine-" hiccup "-I just need more water." I can't make out anyone's expression before being lead to the stairs. I hear good night and thank you but the next thing I feel is already my bed. Soft blanket against my cheek. I sigh, not wanting to move an inch and sleep for days.

"Let me get Patrice." Flip says and I hear a couple steps. Then my hair is lifted off my face, moved right behind my ear. "Sleep tight." I feel something wet on my forehead and then nothing. Only quiet. And dark.

___

I roll over, feeling around for my blanket and cover my cold skin. With one eye open I look around, trying to figure out what's going on. My window is open, curtains pulled together, darkening the room. I groan, frowning. The phone rings and I flinch, holding a hand to my warm head. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to ignore the shrill tone but it doesn't stop. In one slow but swift motion I sit up, taking a second to regain my balance and blink my eyes open.

"Hello?" I get out, clearing my throat afterwards, not knowing what's wrong with my voice. So groggy and deep.

"Wow, good morning Bat Girl, had a little too much to drink last night?" I hear Patrice's voice and roll my eyes, sighing.

"Why did you let me drink that much? You know me. At least I thought you did." I grin, shaking my head and closing my eyes again, leaning forward, head in my free hand.

"You should know your limits, sister. Maybe you got a little closer to knowing them last night."

"Sure thing, sister."

"You up for a run later?" I raise an eyebrow, not sure if she even drank anything at all last night. I stand up carefully and draw the curtains aside, squinting my eyes as the first sunlight burns my eyes.

"Wow, how late is it?"

"It's one thirty. I'm glad I finally woke you up."

"I'm glad too, I bet it's a mess downstairs. I'll call you when I'm done cleaning, a run should do me some good though."

"Yes, right on, sister. See you later."

As I put on a robe, scanning my costume at the end of my bed, I walk out and down the stairs. I sigh relieved, the mess not as big as I thought. I hope the boys took some leftovers home to eat. But I see all the food stacked in the fridge. I roll my eyes and pack boxes, to drop them off at the station later.

I get ready, drinking a rare cup of coffee and put on grey leggings and a turquoise long sleeve for my run with Patrice. I'll meet her in about twenty minutes at the station.

As I drive there, I try to remember what all went down last night. The pass out game was maybe a little too much for my fragile stomach. And Flip, his Dracula teeth still make me grin. Such a dork.

I park my car and walk inside the station, having all the food stacked on my arms. As I get to their office I make out Patrice at Ron's table, laughing and sitting down on his desk.

"Hello guys, anyone ordered leftovers?" I place down boxes on their desks and lastly at Flip's, sitting down on his.

"Someone arose from the dead I see." Flip says and Patrice nods.

"She was still asleep two hours ago." I frown at her, mouth agape and cross my arms.

"Why do you have to betray me, Patrice?" They laugh at me, Flip nudging me arm. I glare down at him, not able to hide a smile.

"Especially you, Dracula."

"What? I didn't betray you, I even brought you upstairs." He raises his hands in front of himself, eyebrows doing the same. I roll my eyes and stand up, telling Patrice to wrap it up and go running.

"You're going for a run? You mind grabbing me a good coffee on your way back?" Flip says and continues to scan through papers.

"Who says I will come back after my run?" My hands land on my hips, eyes on him as he slowly looks up, adjusting his holster over his red plaid shirt. Which was my favorite. I loved the color on him and it's the softest out of all of them.

"Well, I know you need those tupperware boxes back so-" He shrugs his shoulders, smiling innocently.

"You're lucky you're cute, Zimmerman." I mumble, hitting his shoulder and the guys laugh, Patrice and I walking out.

___

"So are you dating now or what?" Patrice huffs, running alongside me as we enter the park and follow the path down to the water.

"Who? Me and Flip?"

"Obviously, he's absolutely into you."

"What makes you say that?" I swallow, trying to take a look at her but struggling to do it while running. I just see her eyes rolling.

"The way he's treating you, looking at you. Last night for example, he helped you go to bed and was such a gentlemen. He came back down, asking me to help you undress."

I frown, hoping not to trip as I try to remember the wet sensation on my forehead last night. The way his finger ran across my forehead. My skin tingles at the thought.

"I don't know, Patrice." I say and she sighs, changing the subject.

___

The whole way back to the department I have to think of what Patrice said, nearly running into a couple officers. I carry the four big coffee cups from our local Colorado café that usually doesn't do takeaway coffee. But for the department they do. So sweet of them.

"Three orders of hot and delicious coffee?" The guys look up and I give them the cups, Jimmy nearly burning his finger. "Careful!" I say and giggle. I give Flip his cup and he hums, smelling the liquid, eyes closed.

"That's the good stuff." I grin, nodding and take a gentle sip myself, sitting back down on his desk.

"Flip?" He looks over, nodding and drinking the coffee. I push a black strand of hair out of his face, adjusting my seat and face him more. "Can we talk later?" I ask quietly, not wanting to cause a scene or give the boys anything to tease Flip with.

"Uh, sure. After work?" I nod and rub my arm, smiling at him. "You could come by my place, if you want." He adds, seeming hesitant but tries not to show it, drinking more of the coffee. I stop moving for a second, not sure if I heard him right. To his place? I've never been there. Weird, to be honest. I've known him for a while now, nearly a year. Patrice introduced me to them all after an incident with an investigation she told me. That's how she met Ron too.

"I'll be there at around eight?" He nods and smiles at me. After writing down his address for me I leave and decide a hot shower would be the best now.

______

I'm done cleaning up my house and myself, when it's already 7.20. I curse under my breath and quickly get dressed. It's chilly outside and I settle with a thin white turtle neck and my favorite blue plaid skirt, short but beautiful. At the door I put on my black thigh highs and grab my purse and coat, finally leaving at 7.45. It's about 20 down to 21 Street so I hurry, still staying with the speed limit.

As I pull up to number 1813, I take in the house. It's matching the blue tones of my skirt, the lawn turning dry and a huge oak tree standing to the side. It's a cute one story house. I smile and step out, a cold breeze welcoming me. I pull on the coat and hug myself, walking up to his house. After knocking it only took him about a minute to open the door.

"Hey there." We share a hug and he leads me inside, taking my coat from me. I take off my boots, him clearing his throat and then moving from behind me toward a different room.

"Just follow the smell once you're done." He calls out and I look up to see where he's going. I grin and try to imagine Flip cooking a dinner. I walk toward the kitchen and stop in the doorway. He's stirring something in a pot, then goes over to grab a couple plates from a cabinet.

"Can I help?" I walk in further, smoothing down my skirt. He looks over, up and down my form only briefly and shakes his head.

"No need, I can manage. You can pick a drink and sit down in the dining room, right through that door." He nods ver to a different entry way and I open the fridge, looking through his options.

"Alright, you want a beer too?" He hums in response, tasting the sauce next and I try to peek but he points to the door, looking at me seriously.

"Okay okay, I'll leave." I raise my beer bottle filled hands in defence. Before going out the door I glance over my shoulder, his eyes on my bum, not realizing I caught him. I smirk and sway my hips more, leaving and sitting down at the round table in the room. I bite my lip, crossing my legs, running a hand over my exposed skin.

"Here we go." Flip enters, carrying two plates. Pasta with red sauce. I mean, it's nothing extraordinary but it doesn't have to be. It's a good dish and smells really good.

"Thanks, Flip, looks and smells amazing. Where have you been hiding your cooking talent all this time?" He chuckles, joining me across the table. We clink our bottles and start eating. My thigh high socks warm my feet and legs, it's really gotten cold out now. November is one of my favorite months.

"How was work, everything alright?" I ask, wiping my lips with a napkin and take another sip.

"Yeah, it's gotten more busy lately, though." He sighs, twirling more pasta on his fork. I just watch him for a moment, eating. I want to place another fork full into my mouth but it's too much sauce and splatters onto my white turtleneck. I groan, wiping my mouth and start dabbing at my shirt. But it's only getting worse. I hear him chuckle and watch me.

"Hey, that's not funny. Do you have dish soap?" He frowns, nodding though. "Excuse me for a second." I stand up and walk toward the kitchen. I make sure the door is fully closed and step up to the sink. I pull off my top, running some warm water over the spot. Then I look for the dish soap. Nowhere to be found. I want to groan again but start looking through the cabinets. Where does a man keep his cleaning supplies?

"Flip? Where is the dish soap?" I call out and hear his chair squeaking. I freeze, panicking. He'll see me in my bra- I block my chest with the wet top and shiver, the water cold against my bare skin. He walks inside and stops for a second, looking at my state. He clears his throat, hiding a smile and opens one of the upper cabinets, pulling out the dish soap from a shelf that I clearly could not have reached all by myself. Idiot.

"Here you go." He hands it to me and I smile tightly, trying to avoid eye contact. "Do you Want me to get you a shirt?" He asks, leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. His grin warms my face even more and I only nod.

"Thanks." I mumble and he pushes himself off, walking past me and toward his bedroom, I assume. I let out a breath and use the soap to quickly soak into the fabric, rubbing the spot together and running it under warm water again. I repeat that until there's only a very light shade of sauce, nearly gone. One time in the wash should get rid of the rest.

"Here you go." I flinch, turning around and accept his shirt. A black plaid shirt that I haven't seen on him before.

"Is this new?" I try to act casual, pulling it on and buttoning it up- but wrong. I groan and he pushes my hands down gently, redoing the buttons. His fingers grazing the skin of my stomach and chest. He apologizes quietly, focusing on the buttons. My heart races fast and at hope he doesn't feel it.

"There- and yes. It's a new one." I thank him again, tucking the shirt into my skirt on one side at the front. The sleeves are long and wide, covering my hands as well. "You want to sit on the couch?" I bite my lip, nodding at him. Before we move he steps closer and wraps his hands around my neck, my breath stuck in my throat. His fingers push out my hair that's stuck underneath the flannel. "Better."

He smiles down at me and walks past me, looking back to see if I'm following. I do. And sit down next to him. Right leg tucked underneath me and hands in my lap as I face him. "I like this one." I say, playing with the ends of the sleeves.

"Me too." I look back up, he's already watching me. "So what did you want to talk about?"

I knew this would be coming but I hoped he forgot. He's a detective. He doesn't forget anything. Maybe struggling to remember names sometimes but that's about it.

"I- uh, you know I just wanted to see how you're doing. I care about my- friends." He nods slowly, totally not buying my words.

"Well I'm doing just fine, thanks for asking." I nod, looking down at my lap, hoping he would let it go.

"How long, (Y/N)?" I meet his ganze, a sigh leaving his lips.

"What do you mean?" He shakes his head, chuckling and inching a little closer, his left hand over the back of the couch and right hand taking my left one, holding it and then gazing back up at me.

"How long are we supposed to keep this game going? I mean, it's fun, don't get me wrong. I love flirting with you and showering you with compliments but- you know, I think-"

"-it's time we take it a step further?" I conclude for him as he starts struggling with words. He nods, sighing with a smile. I take his big hand between both of mine, running my thumbs over his skin.

"Exactly." He adds, his voice calm and warm, like always. Another thing I love about him. I don't know what else to say so I lean my head closer, watching his lips and eyes, his own face leaning in. I close my lids and concentrate on his and my breath mixing. Soon our lips meet, gently and slow. My left hand going up around his neck, trying to sit closer to him. His hands hold onto my waist, lifting me up and setting me on his lap. I giggle against his lips and he chuckles, pulling me tightly against him. Our flannels rubbing together. He's still caressing my hips, digging his thumbs into my skin and hands cupping my bum. My skirt riding up with every movement. Soon his thumbs hook under the hem of my skirt and stay there for a moment. Our tongues fighting and tasting each other. My fingers running through his thick dark hair. His beard tickling my neck as his lips move from my mouth down to my neck. I hold his head and lean mine to the side slightly, giving him more space to play with. His breath is heavy and hot against my skin, his lips leaving a wet trail as he tries to move even lower, quickly opening the top two buttons of the flannel I'm wearing.

"Flip~" I whimper, his teeth pulling at my lower lip, hands back by my skirt, lifting it even further until the fabric is around my waist, panties exposed. My core tingles and I can't help and rock back and forth on his lap, glancing down and making out his hard member inside his pants. I unbutton my shirt even further and pull it off completely, his eyes glued to my every movement, cupping my breasts as soon as they are free. I still wear my bra but he's quick to unhook it and throw it to the side. Hands back on my breasts.

"Fuck." He says under his breath, kneading them and playing with my nipples. I inhale sharply as his teeth graze that soft skin. I try to take off my high socks but he grabs my hands, shaking his head at me, going back for a kiss. His hands now running up and down my thighs up to my ass.

I finally get to unbutton his flannel and he pulls it off, shirt following. I already try my best at opening his buckle but struggle, sighing and stopping the kiss to have a better look. He chuckles and helps me, pulling down the zipper too. I feel his fingers move around my bum and push my soaking panties to the side, teasing my lips and bud. I moan, moving my hips and palming him through his boxer briefs before freeing his member fully. I stroke it, his forehead now resting on my shoulder as he breathes deeply, small but low moans leaving his luscious lips every now and then.

And that's how we had sex for the first time.

___

The next morning I wake up to low snoring, I smile before opening my eyes, glancing over at Flip's peaceful form. The blanket only covering his lower body. His bare chest falling and rising with every breath he takes. I reach out, pushing his hair back gently and watch him, covering myself with more blanket. I move closer to him, resting my head in his chest, fingertips dancing across his stomach. His breath calms down and he's sighing, still sleeping as I glance up to his eyes. I look back down and bite my lip, my fingers moving further down and pushing the blanket as I go. Soon I reach his member, lightly touching it. I lift myself off the sheets and move lower, parting his legs carefully and kneeling between them, I wet my lips and kiss his semi hard cock. I watch his face, twisting and moving. And when I finally take him whole into my mouth his eyes slowly open, hands gripping the sheets as he looks down, smirking and chuckling as he throws his head back against the pillow. I smile as I lick his penis, kissing the tip and running my hands along his abdomen, dragging my nails down. His muscles twitching underneath my touch.

"Good morning to you too." He mumbles, his voice still sounding way too tired. He rubs a hand across his face and the other one tangle ps in my hair, guiding me up and down at a pace he enjoys. His other arm is tucked behind his head and he looks relaxed. His breath is getting heavier, louder, turning into moaning. But suddenly he sits up, me following his movement as his wide eyes search for his alarm clock.

"6.30? Fuck-" He stumbles out the bed and nearly bumps into his dresser on the way to the bathroom. I didn't know he would be working today. Oops. The shower is running and I hear him exhale loudly, soon turning off the water again. I walk to the bathroom as he comes out, pulling out clothes from his drawers. I have to suppress a grin, holding a hand in front of my lips as I still see his hard member. He's trying to tuck it into his pants but I push his hands off, kneeling down.

"If you're late, ten more minutes won't be a problem." I say, his face twisting in frustration and he groans, pulling on his shirt and the black flannel I wore yesterday. I start my job, trying to make him release fast.

"Fuck, okay- this might work." He says, sounding more awake and guiding my head again, his head tilted back. He's pushing my head so far that I'm near tears, struggling to take a breath. The pace quickens and he's holding me down, groaning and twitching in my mouth, now loudly moaning and releasing his load down my throat. I hold onto his legs, hoping he'd let go soon so I could catch my breath. And that he does, I gasp and cough, wiping my mouth and swallowing down his cum. I wipe my eyes and smile up at him. I kiss his tip as he takes a couple deep breaths.

"No more- I need to get going." He tucks his member away, zipping up and buckling his belt. I stand up wiping some spit off my face. He stops and turns to me, pulling me into a hug. "You're incredible." He whispers into my hair, kissing my forehead. He steps around me and I follow him into the living room where he quickly covers me with a blanket from the couch. "Careful love- only I'm allowed to see you like that." He winks and I giggle, pulling it tightly around myself, watching him put on his boots. "I'll bring you lunch later." I say and he smiles, walking over and giving me another kiss, this time on the lips.

"Thanks, see you later." I wave and watch him leave, going to his car and driving off. I go into the kitchen and sigh as I see my stained shirt still laying there. I clean up his house as best as I can, taking a simple black short sleeve shirt from his drawers and get dressed. Before I leave I make sure he has dinner for tonight and write a quick note.

Thanks for last night, I loved it. Dinner is in the fridge, hope you like it. :)

I leave and take all with me that's mine, driving back to my place to make him some early lunch. I make sandwiches, grab an apple and a piece of my homemade chocolate cake that they didn't finish at the Halloween dinner.

Once I'm freshly showered and wearing new clothes, a sweater and my bell pants, I drive back to the station. It's now 11.30 am.

I walk into the office, a big smile on my face. Their conversation dies down as they see me and Flip stands up, taking my bags and pulling me into a hug, kissing my lips. I melt into his touch, stroking his cheek. Other hand holding his strong arm.

Once he lets go, he goes in for a second but brief peck on the lips.

"When did that happen?" We look over at a stunned Ron and smirking Jimmy who looked like he was waiting for it to happen.

"You owe me, Stallworth."

I ignore that our friends were betting on us and only look at Flip. "I made you lunch and brought you some cake as well."

"What about us? Are we getting no food no more?" Ron gasps, holding a hand over his heart.

"I don't know yet. Maybe you should ask Patrice." I raise a brow at him and Flip throws an arm around me, pointing at me.

"She's my personal chef now, none of yours. Get used to it. Comes with having a girlfriend, Stallworth." I look up at him. Slowly smiling.

"Girlfriend, huh?" He shrugs, smiling innocently and I ignore the comment he made about me. Instead I agree with him. Hugging him around his middle.

"He's right." I mumble into his flannel, loving his smell. I could fall asleep just like this. And just like that I won not only a man who I want to spend a lot of time with- no- I also gained a best friend. My Flip.

_________________________________

More Blackkklansman Imagines

Full Masterlist

#blackkklansman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman #blackkklansman imagines

[1rosex]

BTS reaction to teaching s/o how to dance

Request: can I please get a fluffy reaction to dancing with their s/o or teaching them how to? Thank youu

A/N I did this completely via mobile so hopefully nothing goes wrong-

Masterlist

Jin

You watched as Jin flailed his arms around like a one of those floaty tube things you see outside of a store.

"Follow my lead Y/N! And one and two and one and two and onetwoonetwonetwo." Jin started to flail around so much you were afraid that he'd dislocate his shoulder. "Jin, I'm taking lessons from Hoseok remember?"

"From J-Hope?!" Jin stopped and turned to look at you with a look of utter betrayal. "Why?? I'm just as good as J-Hope! No, I'm even better. I'm the best dancer on the team! I invented dance, I invented this band. They might as well be calling it Jinhit cause I'm carrying this whole company on my broad shoulders!" Jin's face had turned red, which caused you to laugh. He sat down along the wall with a huff, looking like a scolded child. You got up and moved over to him, taking his arms and pulling him back to his feet.

"Can you teach me how to rap to Fake Love?" You asked with a smile. His whole face lit up.

"Ah, I knew you would come to recognize my superior talents."

Namjoon

You couldn't help but laugh when Namjoon tried to prove to you that he could do the worm.

"Is this supposed to be the worm or fish out of water?" You asked.

"First of all, ouch." Namjoon said as he gave up and came to a sitting position. "Second of all, I am trying to teach you my ways. Be grateful."

"You're right, my bad." You laughed. Namjoon sighed and sat down besides you, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Sorry. I'm not the best, or the most talented, I'm not Park Jimin. I can't teach you, but I can make you laugh. And that's all that matters."

"Namjoon you've practiced so hard. You are an amazing dancer. I am proud of you." You said, and Namjoon beamed. Suddenly Jin was rushing into the studio. "Wait, you're teaching Y/N how to dance??"

"Oh no.." you breathed.

"Yes! Together we can teach her!" Namjoon got to his feet, and you laughed as they both teamed up to try and teach you. Well, you said you wanted to learn how to dance. You never specified how well.

Yoongi

"How was that?"

"You're doing great." Yoongi didn't even open his eyes, laying down on the ground on the verge of sleep. "I really liked the part where you uh.. Did the jump.."

You looked back at him with a look of annoyance. "There was no jump." You hoped that would wake him up but you swear you heard him snore. You walked over to him and waved your hand over his face. He opened his eyes slightly, squinting against the light.

"Yoongi, I didn't ask Hoseok to teach me to dance because you said you wanted to. But you're not even teaching me, so if you want you can go home and I'll just call him-"

"No no," Yoongi's eyes suddenly opened, he rushed to his feet and stretched his joints like a cat. "Give me a beat."

You shook your head as baepsae started playing. Instead of breaking into the actual choreography, Yoongi started doing his own thing. You broke out laughing as he made a fool of himself, wondering where the burst of energy came from.

"Try to keep up Y/N!"

J-Hope

The Gordan Ramsey of choreography. The Simon Cowell of dance precision. Aka, your boyfriend Jung Hoseok.

You don't know how or why you agreed to let him teach you some of his bands choreography, but it was proving to be more stressful then what you had initially believed. He was practically breathing down your neck at every move and you felt like he was going to turn into that video of the instructor yelling "Patricia" at any given moment.

"Hobi please. I don't think anyone is going to notice of my foot is at 92° instead of a precise 90°." You sighed in exhaustion as he corrected you.

"I'm not trying to be precise, just close."

You suddenly started laughing, as Hoseok gave you an unamused look. You went over to the speaker, ignoring his protests as you changed the song to a compilation of girl group dances.

"Show me how you can really dance." You teased him. At first he seemed annoyed that you wouldn't just cooperate with his lessons, but within minutes you were competing against him in who could do a better hair flip to Boombahyah.

"This isn't fair Y/N, if I had long luscious hair I'd be winning for sure.

Jimin

Jimin was an amazing and talented dancer, but he was an awful teacher. He ran through the moves too quick, which led to you not picking up all of the counts and timing.

You tried to replicate what he showed you but you missed a step and caused him to give you a stern look.

"You're hot when you're mad." You said which caused him to get flustered, but that was quickly replaced by a cocky smile.

"Well maybe you need to start messing up more hm?"

"Maybe I will" You purred as he snaked his arms around your waist and kissed your neck.

You both jumped when the door slammed open. "Hey! Not in the practice room!" Jin yelled, separating you two. "This is the hip hop room not the bedroom!"

You smiled at Jimin as the rest of the members filed back into the room, which meant you wouldn't get back to your private lessons anytime soon.

"Oh well, I guess this will have to wait for another time."

Taehyung

"Get ready to go down Y/N!" Taehyung looks exhausted, his hairs a mess, his chest is rising and falling and he's sweating. But you probably don't look any better. You'd been going hard at a game of Just Dance for an hour, and this was the last round. If Taehyung won this round, you would lose. If he didn't, then you'd be tied.

"Try me Kim Taehyung!" You challenge. You had concluded that the loser had to be the one to make breakfast tomorrow for the other boys. Jin was out all week, and no one was going to let Namjoon do it. If you tied, you both had to.

"NO" Taehyung yelled as his score came onto the screen.

"YES!" You pumped your fist in the air in victory. Sure you still had to cook either way, but at least you didn't have to do it alone. Taehyung fell dramatically to the ground and laid his head on the carpet.

"You're lucky I make a good omelet..."

Jungkook

"What in the world are they doing?" Namjoon asked. He had barely stepped into the dance practice studio and he could already hear the music blasting from the practice room.

"It's Jungkook and Y/N. I'm not sure I even want to know." Yoongi sighed, as the members approached the doorway. They peeked into the room to see you and Jungkook dancing around while Old Town Road blasted on the speakers.

"I GOT THE HORSES IN THE BACK"

"HORSE TAK IS ATTACHED"

"HAT IS MATTE AND BLACK, GOT THE BOOTS THAT'S BLACK TO MATCH"

You suddenly stopped singing and came to an abrupt stop when you noticed the amused members at the door, Jimin quietly filming the whole scene. You started frantically hitting Jungkook on the shoulder, who was still into the song.

"CAN'T NOBODY TELL ME NOTHIN- ow ow, what's your issue Y/N??" He gave you a betrayed expression before following your gaze to the door and seeing the members all laughing. He adjusted the cowboy hat on his head and smiled sheepishly. "Howdy."

"I thought you were going to be teaching Y/N choreography??" Namjoon asked.

"I am.. Just not to your average BTS songs."

#bts #bts reactions #bts scenarios #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #suga #yoongi #bts request #kpop reactions #rm #kpop scenarios #bts x reader #hobi #bts fluff #v #jin #jhope

[smokahuntis]

Tulitque

Signet

Kenobi Series

Chapter 1: Salvator

Summery: Maze starts to practice her Jedi skills as they make a trip to Nevarro to get some money, meeting a new friend and having a talk with an old Jedi Master.

Word count: 4,007

Authors note: this is an original series based 37 years after the rise of Skywalker!

Chapter 2: Tulitque

Maze sat in her room staring at a pen, trying to do something, anything really. She didn’t understand how any of it worked. She barely knew anything about the jedi, other then the price of their items on the market. She honestly started to question if this was all a bad dream, or if the lightsaber killed her. She was starting to hope that was the truth, she couldn’t save the jedi. She wasn’t a good person, she knew that, she was a black-market tradesman. She’s helped countless bandits and sith, Murderers and Bounty hunters a like.  She groaned giving up on the pen, looking up at the helmet she brought with her, it sat on a shelf in front of her.

“Like you can do any better.” She said in a mocking tone towards the hunk of Baskar, it didn’t move.

“I believe it is unhealthy to speak to the helmet.” SYI said standing at the door, barley fitting threw it because of his wide shoulders.

“I think, I like talking to him more then you.” She said looking over her shoulder at the droid. She stood from the carpeted floor of her room and picked up the pen she tried to move earlier. Just as she was about to speak again the ship shook causing her to fall against the wall of her room. “What in oblivion was that?” she said gaining her balance back, before walking out of the room to the cock pit to talk to Neo.

“What was that?” she asked looking out the front of the ship at the fleet of TIE fighters.

“We’re under attack.” He said casually, flipping on buttons. “I’ll get us out of here, might want to buckle up.” She moved sitting in the copilot’s seat and opened the weapons of the Cruiser. The see threw, light blue screen lit up in front of her. It didn’t take long for her to lock onto a TIE fighter, blasting it from existence, exploding in front of them. Neo stared in shock as the purple beams destroyed the small fleet of TIE. After everything was clear, he turned to her. “I thought this was a cruiser!” he yelled in shocked.

“Modified, cruiser.” She said before taking out any of the others who opposed the ship. When everything was done she shut down the cannons, and the folded back into the ship, like they were never there.

“can you do that from pilot’s seat?” he asked looking at the screen that disappeared from in front of her.

“Yea, but its better if you focus on flying, I’ll take care of the weapons okay?” she said standing up and messing up his hair. “also,” she started before turning to him pointing her fingers at him like guns. “we need to go to Nevvaro.” She said turning back and walking towards the door.

“Nevvaro? What for?” he asked still turned to look at her.

“I have to return something.” She said about to leave but cutting back into the cockpit to look at him. “You might want to change.” She said pointing to his Resistance jumpsuit. “They’re not a big fan of, uh … the resistance.” She then left and walked back to her room to grab the items wanted on Nevvaro, leaving Neo to question himself in the cockpit, before turning back to set a destination.

Maze made sure everything was ready for the trade on Nevvaro.

Finding herself with a welder’s mask on in her office as she heated the metal of Beskar to remove the Signet delicately from the side of the shoulder plate. It was a beautiful signet really, a tribally decorated mudhorn, showing a glimpse into the life of its bearer. She would have liked to meet him really, especially after all the hell she went threw to get this specific piece of armor. The buyer however was someone Maze and SYI knew well, well SYI better then Maze since he did all the trading for her. Maze usually stayed back on StewJon working for the next job and SYI delivered and picked up information for and from the guild. Because of this she had never actually met the guild leader or anyone she traded with really. Just like yesterday, when the Darth Spiro came to her, it was shocking for someone so high up the chain to come to her instead of a trooper or assistant. Now that she knew why he was there it was not as shocking.

The blue and red sparks flew from the Beskar as she worked to get the signet off neatly, Beskar was always something she had had problems with since she was not Mandalorian. It took much longer to mold and mend, but the pay off from it was huge. Sometimes she almost begged for Beskar based jobs over Ship work. She’d worked on ships her whole life; it was tiring. But with Vin being a hero, and the money she got from helping, ships were still her main work. It wasn’t uncommon for ships to run out of fuel and land on StewJon, or even crash. However, it was not common for those planes to be X-Wings and TIE. The empire and resistance rarely came to StewJon since it had no material or real use, so they thought. The people that were lucky enough to call the place home were some of the best fighters known to space kind, and by fighter she means fighting death. People on StewJon lived for what seemed like forever, some of them were probably older than Yoda. Maze could never figure out why they all lived so long, some would say its because how pure the planet is, others would joke and say it was because of the force, and honestly right now, she didn’t think they were joking.

The signet removed easily, and she placed it neatly into a dark box she had made before-hand. She really didn’t know why the item had such a price on it, but she knew that the Karga’s would do anything to get it into her hands. She ended up with It out of luck, really she thought she was going to die trying to get it from the Jawas. Most of the armor at the point she got to the shoulders and helmet, was destroyed, but she still managed to save a piece of the chest plate. She didn’t understand why, no one did really, it was garbage at that point, but the shredded pieces of the Mandalorian chest plate spoke to her. Maybe she thought she could use it one day, maybe she thought she could sell it for its beskar, but either way it found its way into one of the closets the ship had. That’s where Neo’s next question came from.

“Why do you have a ruined chest plate?!” he yelled out across the ship, some how finding an accusing tone in his voice as he came into her room. She lifted up the protective helmet and looked at him from her spot on the floor.

“I was going to use it…” she stated in a duh tone of voice.

“Use it for what?” he asked looking at her.

“It’s Beskar, I’m sure ill find something” she said before completely taking off the protective gear and laying It aside. “you look good” she said gesturing to the plain white shirt and brown leather jacket he wore.

“I look like an idiot,” she said looking at her.

“looks better then that horrid orange jumpsuit…” she mumbled before pushing past him grabbing her harness before clicking it over her body. It was the same outfit she wore anytime she left StewJon for something, tightened black cargo pants with a matching long sleeved turtleneck, and laced boots that came just above the ankle. The harness held her blasters and ammo, and the rest of the ensemble worked to intimidate people, plus with SYI at her side no one really tried anything with them.

“That jumpsuit was my fathers!” he said following her into the main room of the plane.

“That is exactly why it should be retired!” she said smiling at him kindly. “Plus, you look…” she walked over fixing the collar of the jacket, before taking a good look at him. “Like you’re ready to be a space cowboy.” She giggled before covering her mouth to not laugh. He did look good, but it defiantly wasn’t him. He rolled his eyes and walked over to a mirror, running his fingers threw his hair and shaking his head.

“can you a least tell me what’s so important on Nevvaro?” he asked before turning back to her.

“If me and you are going to fly across the universe in search of jedi or whatever we are doing, we need money.” She claimed as she walked towards the cockpit and watched as the jet slowly landed just outside Nevvaro City, “I have a certain object that pays a lot, plus I need to ask some questions.”

“You know people on Nevvaro?” he questioned looking at her.

“Sorta…” she said walking out the door of the ship and onto the ashy earth of Nevvaro. He followed after her argently, speaking frantically.

“Sort of? What do you mean sorta?” he asked looking at her, SYI trailing behind them, guns out and ready.

“I’ve worked with him before.” She said as they moved towards the tall gates of the city.

“I’ve worked with him before.” SYI stated as he walked behind them.

“Okay SYI has worked with him before, but on my behalf.”

“And he knows you?” Neo asked looking at her, being careful to not bump into anyone on the way.

“In a way…” She said stopping and looking at him. “Look, if we are going to work together I need you to know some things. One, I work illegally and violence sorta follows me. Two, No one but you SYI and everyone back on StewJon know my real name, I have many names… hell you don’t even know my real name.” she said as she began to walk again, he was about to speak again when she added to her statement. “Three,” She turned pointing at him. “I have no damn clue how the force works, and I don’t know anyone who does, so if you have a suggestion id like to hear it.” They started walking towards the old cantina, SYI opening the door for them and going in first since they were familiar with him.

“Wait what’s your real name?” he asked looking at her and she shook her head walking into the cantina. The loud voice of the infamous guild master rung threw the place as he greeted SYI.

“SYI!” he said standing to move towards him, but paused seeing Maze and Neo, “and you brought friends?” he questioned looking at them

“I would hardly consider us friends.” SYI stated causing Maze to roll her eyes.

“I’ll remember that next time you need a tune up.” She said, The Karga picking up on who she was with her statement. He smiled in shock once it really connected to him who she was.

“If it isn’t the Black Bird herself, Rocket-man, The star reaper!” He exaggerated as he moved his hands threw the air, announcing her many names. She still wasn’t sure how she got Star Reaper, something about how well she built weapons for ships. “I thought you’d be taller…” he said looking down at her small figure, all eyes were on her at this point, disappointed to say she actually knew most of these men from selling ships and weapons.

“I thought you’d be younger…” she retorted back to him and glanced towards the seats, sitting down with her and Neo, SYI standing next to them guarding them.

“So, what brings the little hermit from her cave?” he asked leaning back in his seat.

“A few things really, one being this item,” She said pulling the black box from one of her many pockets, laying it down on the table. He leaned forward eying her before opening it, staring at the beautiful metal of the signet in wonder.

“The buyer will be ecstatic with this.” He said running his hands over his face. “I thought we’d lost it…” he shook his head before snapping his fingers at the bar keep who understood quickly and left the room.

“Two, you are one of my best customers, and I know you work with a lot of people.” He nodded for her to continue. “I want to know what you know about the force.” To say he was shocked with the question was an understatement, but he nodded and agreed.

“I don’t know much, but if you are asking for the reason, I think you are, I know you are not safe here…” He spoke low, leaning forward so she could hear. Her blonde brows furrowed together as she got the message, the bar tender came back with a container made of steel. Neo looked around seeing eyes were 6 her again, as the container hissed and revealed the amount of units in it, she stared at the guild master in shock.

“Who did that signet belong to?” she asked causing Neo to look back and see the units, letting out a small ‘wow’.

“That’s for me to worry about,” he reminded as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and writing something down on it before putting it in the container and closing it. Sliding it back over to her, SYI picked it up before looking down at the Karga. “But you need to go before someone deicides they want.” He nodded towards the door and she took the sign, before shaking his hand and leaving.

“what was that about?” Neo asked looking towards the container, looking back up at the people around them, eyes trailing them.

“We’ll find out on the ship…” she said looking at him, finally noticing the looks. They had almost left the gates of the city when they were stopped. A deep loud growl of a voice boomed behind them calling out for the bounty droid.

“Hey SYI! Forgetting something?” the man asked, his voice loud rough and deep, his skin dark blue and scaled like a lizard, just like the men who stood beside him. The three of them turned around looking at the man, Maze being the cocky person she was, was the first to speak. Stepping forwards, her boots digging into the black sands of Nevarro, her hands on her hips.

“And what would that be?”  she asked glaring the large Mythrol down as he stepped forward in a challenging tone. Maze may have hated SYI, but nobody was going to speak to him like that.

“Step back blondie, this don’t concern you. It’s between me and the droid.” He said starting to move past her and to SYI, but she put her hand on his chest pushing him to a stop he glared down at her, his men reaching for their weapons.

“Yea, he’s my droid, so this does concern me I’m afraid.” She said in a calm manor, she was used to dealing with assholes who brought things to her at the shop, so she wasn’t intimidated by him. Not yet anyways.

“Your droid huh?” he said moving to look at her, towering over the small mechanic. His eyes trailed her before he chuckled, grabbing her by the front of her harness and holding her into the air. His face inches from hers, she could smell the alcohol and rotten stench of his breathe, her face twisting in disgust. “I’ve been waiting for the day I could meet this little shit’s maker!”

Maze reached for her gun and about the same time Neo and SYI pulled out their guns, causing the small group of bandits to do the same. Even though there wasn’t that many of them they still outnumbered the trio.

“Let them go Greevan!” A voice said from behind them, loud and modulated, yet somehow feminine. The Mythrol groaned, dropping Maze back to her feet, barely catching herself. His attention turned to the figure behind him, shining in the sun of Nevarro stood a Mandalorian. Their black and gold armor instantly pulling the attention of Mechanic. She could already tell they were a woman, a woman who struck fear into the blue beast.

“Astro…” he groaned looking at the helmeted woman that stood before them. His voice rang with annoyance and anger. “This doesn’t concern you…”

“Greevan…” The Mandalorian said stepping forward, towards them, she completely caught the attention of everyone around as she spoke. She peaked everyone’s interest, maybe it was what she wore, or how tightly she gripped her twin pistols, or maybe the sword that attached to her back. But nobody moved, nobody spoke or stopped her. She stopped in front of the reptile skinned man, he still towered over her, even Maze almost towered her.

Greevan’s breathe was instantly ridged, careful, and scared. How could this one girl scare him so badly? Just as Maze started to ask herself that questioned, the Mandolorian she came to know as Astrid quickly moved. Kicking the mythrol back onto the black ash of Nevarro, quickly recovering she tightened the grip of her pistols. The moment everything set in shots were everywhere. Maze and the Mandalorian were quickly thrown behind a large cart shooting over the top of it. Neo and SYI, on the other side of the path behind a building, peeking the side to take shots.  

“You know, I wasn’t expecting this when I saw you!” Maze yelled over the gun fire, The Mandalorian only chuckled and looked at her.

“well I was tired of them running off business.” She said, maze swore she could hear a slight chuckled escape the modulated tone of her helmet.

On the other end, Neo and SYI were barley holding on, finally Neo got an idea. “SYI help me up!” he said pointing to the roof of the smaller building they hid behind, SYI quickly complied and helped him onto the roof. Crawling across the roof with his gun in hand, he peered over the edge smoothly, taking out two of the blue men before they noticed him. This gave Maze and Astro an opening, an opening they both took. Sliding out from behind the cart, maze quickly picking up a long metal rod from the side of the cart, Astro quickly pulling the sword from her back, sparking to life in her hands. Maze moved forward, a Mythrol swinging at her with his rifle just she slid to the ground taking out his legs, sending him straight forward and his neck into Astro’s blade. Maze recovered from the ground quickly, her back-meeting Astro’s quickly.

“Nice move.” Astro complimented as she swung at another one of the Mythrols, Maze chuckled as she pulled her gun back from her waist and shot a man that was running after her.

“Thanks, I tripped…” She said calmly before they separated taking out the rest of the bandit Mythrol group that plagued Nevarro City. Their breathes heavy as they turned looking at each other, the bodies of the blue men surrounding them, shot and cut up. Neo and SYI quickly moved towards them, recovering from their hiding and sniping spot.

“Well, that was.” Neo started and SYI finished.

“Intense.”

“Yea, im sure it was really intense from your hiding spot SYI!” Maze said turning to face the IG unit. “Why did he even know your name?” SYI’s eyes lip up as he was about to answer but Astro beat him to it.

“His name is, was, Greevan, he separated from the guild about a year ago and has been stealing from and hurting guild members.” She turned to Maze again putting her right hand out, all her fingers exposed but her middle, covered by the type of glove she wore. Maze took her hand shaking it firmly. “You’ve done a great service to not only the guild, but the tribe, I saw his manor towards you as an opportunity.” She pulled away before sliding her sword back into its holster. “We could use someone like you.”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit caught up at the moment, but it seems like you have things under control.” She said gesturing around to the bodies once again. Astro chuckled and shook her head. “However, I have a special talent for finding things that belonged to important people, so if I come across another, I’ll be sure to return it.”

“Thank you…” Astro said her voice seeming monotone because of her gold helmet. Still shiny an gold, little drops of blood covering near the eye area, yet it seemed stunning still.

“I’d watch that helmet, she has a thing for them.” Neo says pulling them all from their train of silent thoughts. Maze shook her head and sighed.

“He’s not wrong.” SYI said causing maze to quip back quickly.

“Okay! Let’s go to the ship before we get another welcome party out here!” she says before thanking Astro one last time, as they start to walk in their separate ways she gives one last glance to the manalorian, followed by. “I hope to see you again, Astro”

They boarded the ship, Neo quickly finding his way to the cockpit so they could leave, SYI setting down the container of Credits down on a table. Maze moved over, opening it and grabbing the small slip of paper, unfolding it exposing the message written on it.

                    “The Jedi and the way of the force has been long forgotten out here in the outer rim, however I hear of old survivors on Jaguada and Tatoonie, maybe they could help you find what you are looking for.”

“Jaguada…” she said running her fingers over the lettering like it would change, the name echoed in her head like she’d heard it before, images flooding her head of red oceans and green sands. Mountains taller then any she’d ever since. Then suddenly it was as if the world around her slowed and faded to blues and greys, familiar yet distant voices filling her ears.

“It’s familiar because you’ve seen it,” Master Windu said approaching her, looking down at the paper in her hands. “Some Jedi have the ability to see important events before they happen… even if they are years even decades away.”

“Still haven’t decided who will train me have you?” she questioned looking up at the tall man before her.

“On the contrary, it is a hard decision since we don’t know much about you, Maze.” He began walking around her before his eyes trailed her like a vulture, trying to study her. “But of course, you could always call out to one of us…”

“Call out?” she asked watching him, he stopped in front of her, looking at her eyes, remembering Obi-Wan so fondly as he looked at her.

“Yes, when a jedi who has no master still and is in need of training, finds themselves in dangerous, there strength of the force calls out to the fallen jedi and pulls one to them.” He began looking at her, “For Example, you are outnumbered.”

“Like today?” she said cutting him off before he continued.

“Think more intense, but yes…so you are in danger and the force isn’t guiding you and you cant figure out why… its because the spirit of the force inside of you is searching she another to connect to you.” He finished and she nodded understanding and looking at him, leaning down and pulling the lightsaber from her boot before looking at him.

“Would this have a sway on who it connects to me?” she asked before looking back into his eyes. He nodded, and as he did they were cut off as Neo entered the room breaking the illusion. Mace faded away as neo took in the scene before him.

“Why the hell are you holding the lightsaber like that?”

The character Astro, belongs to my friend @astromechovess you can check out her page here!

Taglist: @hxldmxdxwn @jediminddicks1000 @tereza-96 @everythinggeeky @obiwkenobi @fanboyswhereare-you @labyrinth-runner

#star wars #star wars original series #kenobi series #obi-wan kenobi #astro #dameron #nevarro #Mace windu #jedi #jedi master #reblog!

[cuorepietoso]

Things you said with clenched fists / Things you said over the phone

requested by and ft. @katarinadvpont

     I.  2014

     They’re back in Libya, of course. Sometimes he feels like he’s never fucking left this place, like he never will. Blue skies above, with that scorching hot sun that always leaves him casting his gaze around for some shade when the clock hits about noon. Pale sand that gets into all the creases on his body, fills his shoes and his socks. Another civil war, the second in three years, orchestrated by the powers that be for… what, oil? He’s not sure he even knows anymore, which side he’s supposed to be spilling blood for. On base, his hand never seems to stray very far from the scar cut across his abdomen, because more than enough of the blood he’d spilled the last time he was in this country was his own.

     They have a new Carabinieri attache-- she’s almost eye-searingly blonde and lily-skinned in the bright sunlight, he can’t help but wonder how she keeps from turning as red as a lobster. The military police are hardly ever well-liked among the rank and file, seen as fun-killers at best and crooked at worst, but… Tahan thinks she’s probably alright, if only by virtue of the fact that one Capitano Daniel Lombardi hates her. He watches the pair of them from the shade of the MRAP that the late afternoon provides, his legs outstretched in the dirt before him, arms crossed over his rifle. Lombardi is bristling, trying to loom over her like his scant few centimeters he has on the woman affords him any kind of advantage in the face of her icy calm. Yeah, Tahan thinks, he likes her just fine. She’s got a spine of steel, at least, glaring Lombardi down and snapping back at him.

     DuPont, he thinks her name is. He’s never spoken to her directly, just the occasional respectful nod as they pass each other on base, or when he and Rossi are bent over a map, heads bowed together as they work on planning operations, and she sweeps into the room. Right now, she looks like she’s going to choke Lombardi. He thinks he might like to see it-- Rossi’s toe nudges his thigh, and when he tips his head back to squint at him, the younger man gestures silently toward the pair. His meaning is more than obvious: end that before it really starts.

     Ah, well. He really would have put money on the Carabinieri, the way her face has clouded. Tahan stands with a long sigh, and then stalks forward on cat-quiet feet, his rifle slung back over his shoulder. It’s so hot when he gets out of the shade that he almost immediately starts to sweat-- how can these two bicker like this? How do they have the energy?

     He catches the tail end of their conversation, Lombardi hissing out a quiet, “You don’t know what you’re messing with, DuPont--” before he interrupts by clearing his throat. Lombardi cuts himself off and turns his baleful glare onto Tahan, and DuPont takes a moment to try and smooth the anger out of her features. She mostly fails. Her fists are still bunched, the lines of her shoulders and her mouth pulled taut. Before Lombardi can bark out a ‘what’, Tahan snaps out a frankly disrespectful salute to him and then speaks.

     “Maggiore Romano is looking for you, DuPont.” His voice is flat, and he keeps his bored gaze focused on a point between them. It’s a calculated risk-- the Major outranks Lombardi, so the Captain can’t do anything but let her go, and the pair gets along even more poorly than it seems he and DuPont do, so it’s not terribly likely Lombardi will ask. Not terribly likely, but the man trusts Tahan about as much as Tahan trusts him, so it’s still possible. Not that he’d get in all that much trouble. Lombardi opens his fat mouth to say something, but Tahan doesn’t give him the chance, sweeping his arm out in an ‘after you’ gesture for her, with a quiet offer: “I’ll walk you there.”

     The flat line of her mouth turns furious once more, but thankfully she holds her tongue until they’re out of earshot, not even bothering to say goodbye to Lombardi. They walk together in silence until they round a corner, and then she whirls on him, fists curled like she’s thinking about striking him. At least she hasn’t gone for her gun. “Are you insane?” She demands, her voice ringing out of her like thunder. DuPont steps forward, one of her hands gesturing broadly toward the rest of the base. “Does the Maggiore actually need me, or did you make that up?”

     Tahan rocks back on his heels, biting back a smile. He has the feeling his amusement would only serve to act as gasoline on the fire of her fury, so he simply gives her a one shouldered shrug. “Sometimes, and no. Are you?” She stills, high spots of color creeping into her cheeks. “Insane, I mean.”

     “No,” the answer cracks out of her like a whip this time, waspish and ice cold. “I’m beginning to suspect that everyone else here is, though-- you know you’re supposed to be working with the United Nations on all of your operations, don’t you?”

     God. He rummages around in his pockets and pulls out his pack of cigarettes, offering her one as he lights his own. The look she gives him is venomous, but she takes one and he lights that one for her as well. “I’m aware--” Her brows furrow, and she opens her mouth to say something, but he holds up his hand. The gesture is enough to silence her for a half second, if only because she didn’t expect it, and that half second is all he needs. “Listen to me, picking a fight with that fuck Lombardi isn’t going to get you anywhere good.”

     DuPont exhales smoke harshly, staring hard off into the camp. “All this-- all this fucking--” He snorts, taken almost aback by the curse falling out of such an angelic face, and she snaps her electric eyes to him. “This cowboy bullshit. There’s a system in place to make sure everything is done by the book, and done well, and to keep casualties at a minimum, and it seems like nobody cares.”

     Nobody does care. He manages to keep from saying it, but only barely, instead he watches her, brows furrowed. Her fists are still clenched at her sides, like she actually cares. Maybe she does-- he’d heard she’s fresh out of the academy. Hasn’t had any time to let the world tint her idealism into something darker, yet. He doesn’t want to be the one to break it to her. Another long sigh rolls out of him as he turns to watch the walls of their base camp. “There’s something you need to understand about Lombardi.” He stops, there, and when he glances back at her he can see her eyes trained on the side of his face. “He’s gotten away with a lot of shit. He’s been allowed to get away with a lot of shit. And you’re a threat to that-- a threat to him.”

          “Good--” she sneers.

     “Bad,” he replies, cutting her off. “Because do you know what Lombardi does to people that threaten him? He eliminates the threat. Like he was trained to do.” She draws away, and he can see he’s losing her, so he gestures out to the camp. “I’m not saying do nothing. You can report him to our superiors until you’re blue in the face. I’m just telling you now, it’s not likely they’ll do anything. We’re a black operation unit, and we… unofficially play by different rules. But if you keep running your mouth off to him, he’s going to start thinking maybe you’ll actually get something done.” A pause, for effect. Her eyes are almost, almost wide. “And then he’ll just make you disappear.”

          The blonde’s jaw is so tight he could almost swear he can hear her teeth grinding. “He can try.”

     “He can succeed. That prick has been here for fifteen years, and if we’re unlucky he’ll be here for fifteen more.” Tahan is agitated, he’s already burned through the entirety of his cigarette. He puts the butt out against the bottom of his boot, and tucks it back into the pack, unwilling to start another. “I’m not saying do nothing. I’m saying keep quiet about it until you’re far the fuck away from here. You understand?”

          Her eyes, her face is grim. She nods, finally. He turns away before he can determine if she means to actually follow his advice or not.

     ii. 2016

     Her mouth runs just as hot in Verona as it did in the desert two years ago, he thinks with no small amount of amusement. The leaves are starting to turn on the trees, and a cold wind creeps in between the cramped, ancient buildings of the city. Every time he sees her, she looks like she’s bundled for arctic weather, and she undoubtedly notices how drawn he looks, the faint tremble to his fingers. He feels half-mad, some days, mourning something he’ll never be able to put words to, all the things and the days he’s buried deep. She calls him, maybe once a week, and he tries to be good company.

     The days pass in anniversaries, marked permanently in his mind. One year since Rana slipped headfirst into that ditch. One year since Rossi pulled that bullet out of that corpse for evidence. One year since, once year since, one year si--

     His phone is ringing. He’d forgotten it was ringing when he saw who it was that was calling him, staring at the screen until it rang out to voicemail. She’s calling him again. Battista wonders what’s got her… what, concerned? Angry? Enough to call him twice in a row. He answers.

     Katarina DuPont’s voice rings tinnily on the line. “Oh, good. You’re alive.” Her voice is almost totally flat, like she’s pissed she felt like she had to call again. He stares out over the Adige, sluggishly moving along.

          “Don’t sound so excited about it,” is his dry answer. “Did you need something?”

     The line is silent for a minute. He thinks about sinking into the cold water in October of 2009, getting dragged out by the strap of his rifle. The shock that had come after. Leans against the railing, and peers down into the muddy brown river below. Her voice startles him out of his reverie. “No, I don’t need anything, you-- Have you eaten anything today?”

     Battista’s brows shoot up on his forehead, and he allows it because there’s nobody around to see. He leans his chin on his hand, his elbow resting against cold stone and supporting most of his weight. It takes him a moment to think. Has he? He can hardly remember, it seems. He doesn’t think so. His hands feel a little weak, he’s tired. “Yes,” he responds softly. The water churning below looks cold. He pulls away from the edge and starts walking away. “Did you call just to ask me if I’d eaten anything?”

          “No.” Katarina’s voice… he can tell the amusement in his question rankled her, in some way or another. “Do you need anything?”

     He wonders when she’s going to work up to asking if he’s been taking his meds-- probably soon. She’s not one to mince words. He lifts a hand to wipe the half-smile off his face and pauses, wondering if the faint smudge of crusted blood under his nails is real or imagined. Looking away from his hand won’t keep him from obsessing, but it will keep him from seeing.

     Does he need anything? He doesn’t know. He can’t stop thinking about Rossi, the Captain. That whole mess. He can’t stop thinking about the heroin, or the pink jacket. He can’t stop thinking about how Bianchi had leaned so close to him, his grip hard enough to bruise his collarbone, and the acid that had poured out of his mouth. And perhaps this is all loyalty will ever buy him, in a world so deprived of goodness and warmth and light. A world deprived of love. It buys him pain. In the night, in the day. A great screaming void. Death at his master’s door.

     For a moment, a mad moment, he lets himself feel a spark of… of something. Maybe he wants more than that. Maybe he wants justice. Maybe he thinks she can help, or offer advice, or maybe he just wants to talk about it. So he opens his mouth, and his voice is raspy when it rolls out of him, like he’s parched. “Have you ever heard of--” Bianchi, he doesn’t finish the sentence. She may have met him in Libya, might even remember him. But he doesn’t know how, or perhaps can’t, ask for help. The two extremes: she won’t care at all. He didn’t know her two years ago, and he hardly knows her now, except for the fact that she feels obligated to reach out to him occasionally. Or she could get herself killed, looking into it. He’s not sure he could articulate how dangerous it is. He’s pretty sure he could never choke out all of what happened, either. “Never mind,” he finishes, softer than before. Battista glances around and finds he’s back at the river, and this time when he turns his back on it, he tells himself it’s for good. “I don’t need anything, DuPont. Listen, I have to go.” There’s a long silence on her end, and he adds, “I’ll talk to you later.”

          Apparently that’s enough of a promise for her. At her loaded “Goodbye, then,” he snaps the phone shut, and slips it into his pocket.

#/ / DRABBLES . #tw ptsd #tw drug mention #tw suicidal ideation #super vague on the last one but just to be safe #those are just in the second half. the first half is only discussion of murder