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luimagines · 8 months

Note

Another request because my brain has decided to start working somewhat the chain finding someone not from their world

This one... Is very vague. So don't mind if I take many creative liberties XD

Masterlist

Part one will include Wild, Legend and Hyrule.

Content under the cut!

Wild

Wild wasn't sure if he was meant to be looking at this person at the moment.

She had a high ponytail, with their quiver and shield strapped to their back. The sheath which held her sword rested at their hip, a very familiar sheikah slate was hooked on the other side.

She was blond with blue eyes and burn marks all over the side of their face in a very familiar pattern.

Wild gulped and stuck a hand out, trying to mean no harm. "Uh, hi. Why do you look like me?"

She eyes him with suspicion and slowly puts her hand in his. "I could be asking you the same thing."

"Hey Cub, have you seen- oh god there's two of them." Twilight fumbles out of the surrounding foliage. He blurts his words without thinking and points.

The girl eyes him with just as much suspicion, borderline glaring at him. Twilight shrinks back somewhat, not expecting this. "Hello...Can we help you?"

"You look familiar." She mutters and but shakes her head. "Where am I? Who are you people?"

Twilight coughs. "My name is Link and his name is Link. We're... actually not from here. But you can call me Rancher or Twilight. I respond to both. He goes by Champion or Wild. What's your name?"

She takes a step back, very purposefully looking them both up and down.. "...My name is Linkle..."

Twilight looks just as lost as Wild feels. Wild shakes his head, smacking his cheeks for good measure. He hopes that there's no triggered memory because of this. That would really bad at the moment.

"A new hero maybe?" He ventures tentatively. "We're going to have to tell the others."

She looks even more on guard. Her hand goes to rest on the hilt of her sword. "Others?"

Twilight nods, putting his hands up. "We have a group of others named Link...We're all heroes of Hyrule. Sound familiar?"

She doesn't relax but she nods. She makes no move to follow them though. "Where's Prince Zelden?"

Wild frowns. "Never heard of him....There's Princess Zelda though but she's not here right now."

Everything about her reminds him of himself but it's never been so... off. Is it because she's a girl or too similar to him? Wild cant figure it out.

He looks over Twilight as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He's getting a headache. Wild isn't sure why though. She's his look alike- Oh wait, that might be why.

Wild offers his arm like any good gentleman (Sky would be proud). "We all have questions, I'm sure. Together we can both try to figure out what's happening. Would you like to join us for lunch? I was about to start the fire."

She slowly reaches for his arm and nods. "...Yes. I'd like that actually. Thank you."

Twilight shakes his head. "I'll let the boy know we have company... Please don't set anything on fire."

"...I need to start the fire though."

"You know what I mean."

The girl next to him giggles. "I have a friend just like him. She tells me the same thing all the time."

Wild smiles. "She sounds fun."

Legend

He had to crane his neck to get a decent look at them.

They were huge, as big as a hinox. They had four arms and a massive maw full of razor sharp teeth. They has large scales on their body in a brilliant green color. The closest thing Legend could compare them to were beatle wings but they must much larger and hard as a rock.

"Admiring my armor?" They said. Their voice shook Legend to his core. Something about it spoke of power and restraint.

He finds himself nodding. "It's armor then? How do you put in on? There's no strap of anything."

They laugh. "Of course not. It's a part of my body. They've only gotten this strong because of all the times I've torn them off."

They poke their shells. It makes a small dull sound. They bring it closer for Legend to touch as well. He does, only because he has no idea what would be considered weird in this circumstance. It's smooth but warm. Solid. "Did it hurt, Sniper?"

"Of course." They pull back. "The blood is always a pain to clean up but it's necessary where I'm from. My people pick from the toughest warriors and strongest soldiers. There's someone I have my eyes on so I hope to prove myself tough enough to form a life bond."

Legend nods. He understands only the need to peacock to catch attention. He doesn't understand the rest of it.

"The Drev are a war species." They explain, as if that's an normal to say. "We pride ourselves in being unbeatable and we train our young from a young age to be a merciless on the battle field as out predecessors."

Legend finds himself only getting more freaked out by this conversation. Is this normal? Can someone call him or something? Get him out of this!

"We..." He tries to explain himself and his people. But how does he not piss off this giant behemoth of a creature?

They had met up while they were tracking down the shadow. The shadow ran out of a portal like their life depended on it and this...Drev, came out chasing him. It appears they they did enough damage to be thirsty for more.

It's unnerving.

No one really had a choice when they said they were traveling with hem now to track down the shadow and given their battle prowess... they weren't going to turn them away from that either.

"You are all soft and squishy." The drev pokes his leg. "It's incredibly you've all survived as long as you have."

They laugh and Legend is inclined to let them have their moment. Of course it's obvious that they've all had close calls. What does he even say to that?

Hyrule

Hyrule knew by this point that there were many worlds beside his own. His own world has changed so much that he could hardly recognize it outside of his own existence. It might as well be a different place entirely.

So when he comes face to face with a person who's entire bottom half is a serpentine, he's not exactly inclined to ask many questions at first.

Their eyes are bright and vibrant. Between the slits down the center and their yellow color, Hyrule finds himself drawn further into their differences.

Their tail is black with orange bands. Similar scales trail up their uncovered torso and over their joints and arms. Their hands are completely covered by the scales and end with razor sharp black tinted claws. The scales become more patchy by their neck, face and hairline and end when long black hair starts to grow out of their scalp.

Hyrule seems to focus more on the their face, trying to make the situation as less awkward as possible. It only polite to hold relative eye contact. "Hello."

They slither away, crouching lower to the ground.

The others shout and cry out from just behind him. The creature has made itself known but apparently by mistake.

"Hyrule! Are you hurt?" Warrior calls out, running with his weapon out.

Hyrule forces himself to his feet. The sight of the new being has left him a little unsteady, but he doesn't want them to attack for no reason. "I'm ok! We're all good here!"

That gets them to slow down at least.

Legend makes it to him first with the help of his pegasus boots. Hyrule is tackled into a hug and pushed behind the other hero. "What on earth?"

"This is new to you too?"

"I've never seen anyone like them."

They slither back even farther and start going up a tree.

"Wait!" Hyrule moves away form Legend, even putting his hand on the outstretched blade to lower it. "Don't go away! We won't hurt you."

"But will they hurt us?" Warrior slide in, also holding his weapon.

"They didn't even do anything!" Hyrule tries to defend. "We just crashed together, that's all."

"Looked more like an ambush to me."

The snake being pulls themself higher into the tree, never taking their eyes off of the young boys as they begin to gather around.

Hyrule bounces his knee nervously and coughs. "Do you have a name?"

The person tilts their head and looks to the rest of them.

Legend clicks his tongue. "Do they even speak?"

"....Kara."

The entire group stills.

"My name is Kara."

Part 2

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #I'm going to make so many new characters #and keep none of them #are they aliens? from a different universe? alternate versions of them?#it's going to depend #i'm going to have to pull out all the stops lol #the drev are from starr-fall-knight-rise #they write for humans are space orcs #and they have an ongoing story and i love it #i might add their Vrull later... but I feel like that would be cheating XD #but go check them out if you're into that fandom

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britswriting · 6 months

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Fallen For You H.S | AU - Seven

Fallen For You Masterlist - find description here

Read on Wattpad

Rancher!Harry x Plus-sized!OC

🦋Delaney🦋

I was pleasantly surprised when the weekend went by without a hitch, and I knew that was all thanks to Harry; whether he wanted to hear it or not, we wouldn't have survived without his help.

I walked into the barn where Harry and my dad were working surprisingly well together only to see my dad in there alone.

"Hey" I announced my presence, my dad appearing to be cleaning one of the stables.

"Good morning, Lane" Dad replied back, not bothering to turn and look at me.

"Hey, uh.. where's Harry?"

"He left this morning. He had something to do, he'll be back tomorrow morning" Dad replied, shuffling something around in the stable before the sound of a broom brushing against the floor was heard again.

The past few weeks, every Sunday Harry has disappeared and came back Monday morning getting straight to work.

I knew he had asked for at least one day off, which is completely fine and makes total sense. Everyone deserves a break, I just didn't expect him to be gone overnight for his break.

My brain couldn't help but spiral.

Was he seeing someone? Was he at his girlfriend's house? Did he have a whole other family? Did he have his own place? His own things? His own food? It would make sense why he was so weird about us buying him groceries, but how could he just leave that all for a week without so much as uttering a word to us?

Monday morning I argued with myself in the bathroom mirror over the fact that I willingly woke up early to get dressed for a man who seems to not give a fuck about me.

I mean honestly, who gets up before the sun just to curl their hair and apply makeup and make sure their outfit looks cute just for a guy!

Stupid, stupid Delaney!

I ran my hands through my dark loosely curled hair, my fingers separating some of the curls, applying another layer of mascara; double checking that I didn't have lipstick on my teeth before pulling my jean shorts up a bit more on my waist.

I stared into my brown eyes in the mirror, looking at myself completely done up for a man who could have an entire family somewhere else in this world that he left every Sunday to see.

Stupid, stupid Delaney!

My eyes began to burn as they started to blur; my quick blinking to prevent tears from falling wasn't working as they began to free fall down my artificially blushed cheeks, wrecking my still wet, fresh, mascara.

You're so fucking stupid, Delaney!

My shoulders slumped as I pulled open a drawer, yanking out a makeup wipe and proceeded to start wiping off all my effort.

First went the lipstick.

This was so fucking stupid. Why the fuck did I do this?

Then the foundation.

I could've been asleep this entire time!

Then the eyebrows followed by the mascara.

He's not even going to fucking care, nor notice! I not only wasted makeup, but my time and effort! All of this shit could've gone towards a job interview! A family reunion! A date for god sake!

I stared at my bright red, assaulted, skin; dark mascara still under my eye, smears of lipstick left behind, telling me I needed another makeup wipe.

My eyes burned as the tears settled in my waterline.

I looked date ready, and maybe that's what hurt? Knowing I looked date ready for a man who would never want to date me.

I washed my face with water and a cleanser before grabbing a hair tie and throwing my hair up into a now high, loosely curled ponytail.

I leaned back against the wall, my dark circles from lack of sleep, and the mascara residue staring me in the face.

Pulling off my expensive plain white shirt that had pretty lace detailing on the cuffs of my sleeves left me in a white, lacey bra; I groaned.

This was so fucking stupid.

Unclipping the fancy bra, I tossed it to the ground, ignoring the way my boobs fell and weighed down my chest as I entered my bedroom, grabbing a simple nude, plain bra and a loose t-shirt.

Stupid stupid stupid Delaney!

I wiggled out of my stupid skin tight shorts, grabbing some loose, easy to move in jeans that had wide, baggy hole's in the knees.

The sun was starting to rise, and I knew Harry would already be out this morning taking care of the animals and I felt like I was going to be sick.

I just wasted two hours on a man just to wipe it all off because of my stupid impulsive decisions! I could've just left it all on, said fuck him, and felt good about myself all day, but nooooo, I got insecure and wiped it all off and wasted it! I didn't even take a fucking picture!

Stupid stupid Delaney!

I ran my hands over my face, a strangled noise coming from my throat before I took a deep breath, grabbing my phone ready to hopefully get through today.

All day I avoided Harry the best I could.

I couldn't face the fact of what I had done this morning, knowing damn well this man didn't want me. Along with the fact that he could have an entirely different family and I refuse to be a homewrecker! Or.. or.. or.. I don't know! Anything that will paint me in a bad light! I didn't need the drama.

I got home from the market, my dad having called me asking me for help in the barn.

Walking in, Sassy trailing behind me like she owned the damn place, loudly meowing for attention; my father happily scooping her up and saying hello.

Spoiled brat.

My dad informed me that the horses needed their trail ride today before leaving Harry and I alone in the barn.

I stared at Harry's back, knowing I had to ask him for help, but deeply regretting ever needing him to begin with.

At least I wasn't wearing a lacy shirt, red lipstick and a probably crooked liner.

"Uh, hey.. how's it going?" I asked him, Harry bent over pulling bags of horse grain from a crate, placing it on the floor.

"Fine" he gruffly replied, pulling another large bag of grain out of the crate, tossing it next to the other two.

I nodded — even though he couldn't see me, trying to think quick on my feet to not let what now felt like awkward silence, at least to me, linger longer than necessary.

"Are you busy?" I stupidly asked, regretting it immediately.

"Yes" he replied instantly, my head falling back on my shoulders as my eyes closed.

Of course he's fucking busy Delaney! He's literally doing a task right now!

"I uh.. are you able to help me with the horses?" I quickly spit out, "My dad has to go back to the Rickman's" Harry froze, his muscles visibly tensing, "And the horses need to go on their trail ride, I just.. normally Morgan, or Wrenlynn help me, but uh.. well" I stumbled, my anxious racing thoughts no long becoming coherent in my brain.

"I don't ride horses" He firmly replied, grunting as he picked up one of the horse feed bags, his boots thudding against the concrete as he walked over to the ladder, impressively, yet scaring the shit out of me, climbing it with one hand as the other held the feed.

I watched intently, afraid of him acting all macho and then falling off and busting his skull open.

I couldn't help myself but call out, "But you're a rancher?" knowing damn well I should've left it alone, but I was confused by how someone who works on a farm doesn't ride horses?

Harry didn't reply, in fact, it seemed as if he was ignoring my entire existence, shuffling around stuff on the loft, "Harry?" I called out again, standing far enough away that I could watch him moving the bags of grain around, acting like it was as easy as tossing a throw blanket into a ball on the floor. I sighed, "Harry, how can you not ride horses? You're a rancher" I stated the obvious again, wishing this man would open up more so I could simply understand his stiff and stern reactions. "Look, I wouldn't have asked if I knew it was a firm no; it's just we need to do it, and everyone else is busy, and it's a lot to do by myself. I was just asking for help is all, but if you can't, or don't want to, fine" I turned on my heel, walking towards Baylor, my all black Shire horse, grabbing my brush to clean his coat before braiding his mane, wanting to prevent tangles and matting whilst we worked when I heard Harry say directly behind me, "Can't you wait for your father to be back?" making me jump due to the close proximity.

"He's booked solid helping the town, Harry. It's fine, it'll just take me longer" I replied, running my hand down Baylor's side.

I grabbed my step stool, taking the two steps up before draping a blanket over his back, fitting the saddle over the blanket. I made sure nothing was too tight or too lose, and that the blanket was lose yet snug in all the right areas. Grabbing my lead, I begun to lead Baylor out of the stables, hoisting myself up and over when Harry asked, "This is your horse?"

"This is my baby—"

"Baby nothing. That horse is bigger than you are!" He declared, my brow furrowing.

"That's the point"

"What?"

"That's the point. A big girl needs a big horse. I like that he's big. I like that I feel safe and secure on him, even at my height and weight. He's a gentle giant"

Harry appeared perplexed before shaking his head followed by saying, "My job is to help you, but I don't ride horses"

"May I ask why?"

"No" he replied instantly, my body stilling like someone had dumped cold water over my head.

Oh.

Why?

"Alright well, I need to get started. If you need anything.... I'm sure you can find someone" I unintentionally huffed, giving Baylor his command to start walking down the driveway.

I got halfway down the road when a loud, "FINE! I'LL HELP!" made my head turn over my shoulder, Harry standing a good fifty, sixty feet from me with his arms crossed over his chest just staring at my horse's butt.

I stopped Baylor, getting us to turn around and face Harry, calling back, "NO ONE IS FORCING YOU!" my hand running down Baylor's neck.

"DO YOU WANT MY HELP OR NOT?!"

Baylor and I got back to barn after Harry just stared at us; Harry watching me slide down my horse, tying him to the barn post so I could grab the horse Harry would use, "So what changed your mind?" I asked, clearly having a death wish, silently praying he didn't decide then and there to leave me yet again in the dust.

"It's my job to help you"

Ah. Yes. He's here because he has to be.

"Alright well, this is Tina" I showed Harry our Morgan horse, Harry scowling.

"I'm aware of your horses, Delaney"

"I know. This is your horse today. You said you don't ride horses, and she's really good for beginners" I ran my hand down her neck before starting to saddle her.

"Who names their horse Tina?"

"Don't disrespect Tina" I warned, "And Wren did"

"Of course she did" he scoffed, arms laid over one another across his chest.

I moved my mouth closer to Tina's ear, whispering, "Don't listen to him"

I could practically feel Harry's nerves seeping out of him as I grabbed his protective gear.

I held out a helmet for him, Harry just starting at it before slowly taking it and placing it on his head. He clipped the buckle under his chin and I grinned.

"I look stupid, don't I" he stated, rather than asked, huffing slightly as my grin widened.

"You look great" I laughed, his eyes rolling. "Have you ever ridden a horse?" I asked, Harry nodding, staring at Tina like she was some alien. "When's the last time you rode a horse?" my curiosity piqued, the senseful part of my brain ignoring the blaring alarms telling me to shut up and leave him alone and just be thankful he is actually helping me.

Instead of replying, he asked, "Won't I break her?" making me snicker, shaking my head.

"Nope"

"But your horse is ginormous?" He frowned, tugging at my heartstrings as he appeared like a little boy afraid to learn to ride a bike.

"Shouldn't that make you more afraid?" I asked, Harry's head snapping over to look at me.

"I'm not afraid" he stated, sounding offended that I would even utter such thing.

Yeah, okay.

Tina was saddled up, and I led her out of the barn, handing her off to Harry before hopping up onto Baylor, waiting for Harry to do the same.

I watched Harry stand still, staring at Tina, his eyes closing for a moment before watching him take a deep breath.

Oh. This is more serious than I thought.

I watched as he hoisted himself up onto the horse; I could practically see him shaking in his boots from here.

I started to lead Baylor back down the driveway, assuming that once we got going Harry would be fine. I poked my head back around my shoulder, Harry still just sat on Tina by the barn.

"Come on slowpoke!" I called out, teasing.

I continued down the driveway, stopping to wait for Harry, only to see he was still by the barn.

I went back to the barn, hoping off Baylor and tying him to the barn again then walking over to Harry, smiling.

"Hi" I grinned, Harry's eyes narrowed at me, "Need help?" I asked, not able to wipe the smug smile off my face. "Haven't ridden a horse before?" I asked, my tone slightly teasing, "Hm, figured you would've since you're a rancher and all" I giggled, rubbing my hand down the top of Tina's nose.

Harry's nostrils flare as he goes to get off, confusing Delaney

"Where are you going?" I asked, frowning.

"I'm not going"

"Why?"

"You're making fun of me. I have better shit to do anyway" He huffed, getting off the horse, beginning to walk away.

I knew I was teasing him, but it was all in good fun! I didn't think he'd actually get upset!

"I'm only making fun of you a little!" I call after him, snickering as my fingers pinched together, referencing my words. "I'll help you! Come back, please! I really need to get the horses out" I begged, guilt consuming me at the idea of having upset him. "Harry! I'm sorry!" I called after him, quickly jogging to him, my hand reaching out for his arm.

My fingers grasped his bicep, surprised by how warm his skin was, Harry still walking, ignoring my attempts at stopping his strides.

"Harry! Please!"

"I offered to help you, and you made fun of me"

"I know, I'm sorry! I didn't think you'd actually get upset!"

He turned quickly on his heel, facing me as I halted to a spot, "Why wouldn't I? I don't ride horses for a good reason and you made fun of me! Do you know how sick and twisted that is, Delaney?"

"But.. but I didn't mean to hurt you! I just.. you're a rancher Harry and you don't ride horses! It's a little comical. I'm sorry, please" I begged, "If I knew how serious it was, I wouldn't have done that, I promise!" I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as desperation crawled out of me, wishing I could take back everything.

"I don't appreciate being made fun of" He said, turning around, back enroute to his house.

"I'm sorry! Harry, please, stop!" I cried out, tired of chasing this man all over the ranch. "You know what? Fine! Pout! I didn't know it was this serious!" I yelled, my frustration staring to bubble over, "You know, maybe I wouldn't have made fun of you if you would've just been honest with me in the first place instead of keeping everything locked away! God, I try and I try and you just.. you just.. you ignore me! And you know what? Maybe that's my fucking fault for caring and shit, but YOU'RE A GROWN ASS MAN! Act like it!" I yelled, feeling eyes surround me.

My chest was moving rapidly and I quickly moved my head to see that all the animals were looking at me.

Great.

I ran back to Baylor and Tina, grabbing Tina and leading her back into the barn to take all her stuff off until I was ready for her again, tears flowing freely down my cheeks as I choked on a sob or two.

This day has been a disaster from start to finish, and I was sick and tired of it.

I was tired of constantly walking on eggshells, feeling like I can't freely express myself down to just making a joke. If he would've told me how serious it was, I would've taken him more seriously! Just telling someone "I don't ride horses" when you're a rancher sounds stupid! Why wouldn't I have thought he was just being an asshole to be an asshole? Somehow me reading him wrong has me crying yet again like it's my fault! If he would've just been honest I would've helped him.

I wiped at my face, pulling myself together before getting back on Baylor, very much so needing this trail ride for my own mental health rather than just exercising the horse.

"Delaney" Harry's rough, flat voice said, my head dropping low.

"What, Harry?"

"I apologize for not being honest with you." He said, getting my head to lift, turning to face him. "I don't ride horses anymore" He emphasized.

"Let me guess, I can't ask why" I huffed, tired of the back and forth.

His head shook, "I'd rather not talk about it, no"

"Okay, well. Thanks for apologizing, I guess"

I commanded Baylor to start walking when Harry stopped me again.

I groaned, stopping Baylor.

"You know Harry, I could've been done already. If you don't want to help, you could've just told me. I need to get this done. I have a lot of stuff to do today. I asked for your help because I figured you'd actually be helpful" I huffed.

I swear he flinched, his jaw clenching as he nodded.

"Sorry for disappointing you then" His voice was monotonous with a hint of sarcasm and... disappointment?

Shit.

"That's not what I meant" I groaned, my entire body wanting to just crumple into a ball on the floor.

"No, Delaney. It's exactly what you meant" He glared.

"No it's not—" I quickly defended, wishing I could just shut up and let him be mad at me; it would be a hell of a lot easier than bickering with him.

"Sounded pretty fucking crystal clear to me" He interrupted, frustrating me further.

"Goddammit Harry, will you just shut up for two seconds! That's not what I meant! I'm tired, I'm frustrated, and I have a lot to do! I swear I can't say anything without you getting mad at me and it's tiring!"

"You asked me for help!" His voice raised, nostrils flaring slightly before he took a deep breath, rolling back his shoulders, his Adam's apple visibly bouncing as he swallowed.

"I thought you'd be helpful!"

"I'm trying!"

"How?! You stop me every time I try to make progress!"

"I haven't ridden a horse in almost two decades, Delaney! I want to help you, I just don't remember how exactly" He grumbled, his hand moving up to brush against the tip of his nose before falling to his side and pulling at the end of shirt, attempting to straighten it out more, followed by running his hands through his hair, a few pieces falling down against his forehead.

"You could've just said that, you know. I would've helped and we could've avoided this entire song and dance you like to put us through" I huffed yet again, wishing I could strangle and kiss him all at the same time.

"My job is to help you. My job is to do what I'm asked. I.." he paused, chewing on his lip for a second, his eyes narrowing, "I can't do my job, when I don't know the task"

My head tilted, "Why do you view everything as a task?" I asked, brow furrowing as I licked my lips, rolling them.

"You assigned me the task"

"No," My head shook, "I asked for help"

"Same thing"

"No Harry, it isn't. We're doing the task together. I just.. I don't understand why everything feels like a game to you? How many times do I have to tell you that this ranch is a team effort? I don't expect you to know everything! Or to get everything done in one day! If you're afraid of horses, or don't know how to ride a horse, you could've just said that. I wouldn't have pushed you any further, or made fun of you; I could've helped you if you had told me. Can you please, please, stop viewing me as the enemy? I'm trying here, Harry and you just keep shoving me away! It's frustrating, and tiring, and honestly? I'm getting sick of it"

"I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten" he said abruptly, shutting me up.

"What?"

"I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten" he repeated.

"Yeah, no, I heard you the first time. Explain further please?"

"No"

"No? Harry—"

"Stop! Stop pushing all the goddamn time! You want to talk frustrating?! That's frustrating! You act entitled, like you deserve to know everything! I'm starting to miss when you were quiet, overthinking to yourself. You don't need to know everything, Delaney. You say I keep playing games with you, then what is this? I tell you something and you just can't leave it alone!"

"I'm just trying to understand you better" My voice cracked, my chest feeling heavy as I watched him glare at me.

"Well don't. Just teach me how to ride this damn horse so I can get this over with" he roughly replied, walking towards the barn, his back to me once again.

I took a deep breath, attempting to collect my spiraling emotions.

I'm starting to miss when you were quiet, overthinking to yourself.

Trust me, I hear you loud and clear this time.

"Come on slowpoke!" Harry called out, my eyes widening slightly as the burn intensified.

Did he just...?

* * * *

Harry shaved his head. This was not on my 2023 bingo card.

I would've had this out sooner, but I redid the entire chapter twice..

Written on: November 3rd, 7th, 10th 2023

Published on: November 10th 2023

Word Count: 3729

Part Eight - coming soon

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darkworkcourier · 1 day

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Hi, hello, I decided to be stupidly self-indulgent and write my Courier/Cooper Howard. I guess it's an AU in the sense that I'm writing this under the No Gods, No Masters ending of FNV? Mr. House whomst.

---

All these years on, Cooper still hates Vegas.

He did some work in there—movie scenes, photo ops, theater releases. Casinos used to pay people like him just to show up, to draw in big crowds eager to gamble alongside the stars. He'd throw down a couple dollars on a blackjack table or at the roulette wheel, then make a beeline for the buffet when his time was up. He never had time to go sightseeing in the Mojave, to gaze down the long concrete throat of Hoover Dam, to catch all the sunset colors at Red Rock Canyon.

He flew in and out, and felt dirty all the while.

Knowing what he does about fellas like Robert House, he feels a particular kind of dirty again as New Vegas wavers like a mirage on the horizon. He's passed through before, following bounties through NCR checkpoints and around Legion patrols back when those bastards still crawled like red mites through the canyons and gullies.

This time is no different. A bounty on a would-be gunslinger who put a bullet into a brahmin baron's son during a bar fight. His trail's easy to follow, as all Cooper has to do is the world's longest bar crawl and ask after a shaken-up little shit in a mouse-colored duster. Same color as his coward hide, Cooper says.

His route takes him to a little outpost called Goodsprings. It's quaint in the way that Wasteland towns usually are—just people trying to keep their heads down and still attached to their necks. They must see ghouls aplenty, as everyone from the bighorner rancher to the bartender doesn't so much as bat an eye at the sight of him.

The bartender in particular is his favorite kind of person. The only question she asks is what he'll be drinking, and then she slides him a shot of whiskey and the rest of the bottle.

"Good for the caps?" she asks.

He nods, knuckles the brim of his hat as extra confirmation. "Much obliged, ma'am."

She scoffs with a smile. "Heavens to betsy, but you're polite. Oughta teach some of our other menfolk 'round here to mind their manners."

"It's a dyin' art," he agrees.

She goes back to wiping out chipped glasses with a rag that probably gets them dirtier than not. As she does, the saloon door opens with a low, throaty creak, getting both of their attentions.

The bartender coughs out a laugh. "Been a minute since you darkened our doorway, honey," she says.

Cooper glances over his shoulder to the visitor, burned-up brows rising in surprise. On one hand, she's a Wasteland special—.308 rifle slung over her shoulder, tan face windburnt on the cheeks, aged brahmin leather rucksack over her shoulder practically busting at the seams with supplies. At a glance, he can't tell if she's a scavver, caravaneer, or mercenary—maybe all three.

But on the other hand, he doesn't see women like her all that often. She's probably in her late 30s or so, although he's absolutely shit at guessing ages these days. A pair of aviator sunglasses rest on top of her head—hair blue-black and tied back—like she's a movie star at poolside. And, hell, the rest of her looks that way, too. If it weren't for all the hallmarks of a life lived out in the wastes, she'd fit right in to his best Hollywood memories. Boxed at the edges, sure, but pretty as all get out.

He doesn't often bitch about being a ghoul, but seeing girls like her out in the wastes really makes him kick himself over getting irradiated.

"Trudy," she greets, sliding onto the stool beside him easy as pie. Like the rest of the town, she doesn't so much as blink at him. "How're things?"

"Just dandy," the bartender replies, sliding a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla, of all things, across the bar top. "How's Vegas?"

The woman snorts as she opens the bottle, sliding the cap into one of her many pockets. "Same as always. Loud. Full of people with more money than brains. I needed a vacation."

"Well, you know you're always welcome," Trudy says, reaching across the bar to pat the woman on the arm. "Now, Sunny'd kill me right dead if I didn't tell her you were in town. I'm gonna hop out back an' let her know, if that's alright."

"Sure," the woman replies. She grins, a little pinch appearing at the bridge of her nose. "Me an' tall, dark, and ghoulish'll keep an eye out for any ruffians."

And just like they've been friends for decades, the woman gently elbows him in the bicep. If it were anyone else, or anywhere else, he might take a little offense. But it's not often that any gal quite like her even touches him, and this town is nice. So he just smiles and nods, good as anything.

"Of course, ma'am," he says, touching the brim of his hat again. "Do what you gotta do."

"Much obliged," she says, echoing him. She looks back to the woman. "Lizzie, you be nice to this fella."

"Always!"

Trudy heads out from behind the bar, leaving Cooper with her—Lizzie. He watches her take a long drink of her sarsaparilla, following the line of her throat, the faint bob as she swallows. She's still got sweat clinging to her skin from the desert heat, but he can also see freckles on her bare shoulders and her cheeks. If he still had the network of blood vessels to get warm in the face, he thinks he might just.

Lizzie sets her drink down and turns to look right back at him. Not at all put off by his stares. She's all smiles, eyes crinkling with crow's feet at the corners. "See somethin' you like, cowboy?" she asks.

Flirting right out the goddamn gate. It doesn't sound like a joke coming from her, which takes him by surprise.

But it's just as easy to fall into a role.

"Suppose'n I do," he replies. "If you're into irradiated fellas, that is."

She breaks into a laugh, which he almost thinks is at his expense until she follows it up. "Cariño, I'm mostly into people who click the Geiger counter," she says, all matter of fact.

Color him surprised again. "S' that so?"

Lizzie leans over the top of the bar, elbow on the top, chin resting in her palm. Her grin's as wide and content as a cat. "I got a track record, won't lie," she says. "Y'know there's a dominatrix ghoul in Freeside?"

He didn't, but that's a fact he's going to be rolling around in the ol' decrepit gray matter for a while. "Huh," is all he says before taking a shot.

"If you tell her Lizzie Holliday sent you, she might give you a discount."

"I'll keep that in mind, sweetheart."

The nickname seems to make her preen, and she takes another drink like she's fortifying herself. She sets it back down, then gives him a long once-over that almost makes him self-conscious.

Almost.

"Wanna get out of here?" she asks.

"Ain't you got a friend wantin' to visit?"

This time, her smile shows some teeth. One of her top incisors is chipped, and some deep-set part of Cooper that still wants supplies the thought that he ought to test how that tooth feels on his own tongue.

"She knows my priorities," Lizzie says.

And that's all the invitation Cooper needs.

---

Holy-good-goddamn, but he missed this.

Lizzie's riding him like he's the last train out of Yuma, rolling her hips over his, hands braced on his shoulders with a grip that would hurt someone with more nerve endings. Her hair's out of its ponytail, messed up one one side where he raked his hand through it while she was sucking his cock earlier.

And holy shit did she have some technique. He doesn't have a reason to doubt that she's fucked ghouls before, since she put just enough pressure on all the right parts so that he could feel it. And not once did she shy away from him once his clothes were on the floor and he was sprawled out on her bed.

Her bed, in a converted ranch home that she's made positively cozy. He feels like a teenager sneaking in through the window, out of place amongst the artwork and Christmas lights and tchotchkes. He could almost put himself two centuries back, in some college girl's over-decorated dorm room.

But sorority girls don't have deathclaw skulls mounted over their dressers.

Lizzie suddenly catches him on an upward thrust that makes both of them hiss. Then she seats herself flush against him, and it's the closest to heaven he's probably going to get for the kind of bastard he is. She's warm, slick-wet around him and for him. Hazel eyes blown wide and cheeks dark with arousal. It's the first time in years he's felt wanted like this; like he's something worth wanting rather than the irradiated husk of a man.

Another thrust and she shudders, muttering in Spanish and squeezing her eyes shut.

He doesn't catch what she says, but he can't help a little self-deprecation for the road. "If you gotta pretend I'm someone else, by all means."

She swears—and that doesn't need a translation—before her eyes are open and fixed on him. "Give me a name to start moanin' and there won't be any confusion," she says, rolling her hips to punctuate it.

"Jesus Christ," he says through his teeth.

"I'm not callin' you that."

He wouldn't normally offer up his name to anyone not worth knowing he was a human once, but she's something different. He knows that the way the wind blows, he'll likely never see her again, but he'll keep the memory of her tucked nice and close for those lonely, long nights.

"Cooper," he says at last.

She smiles, eyes reflecting those ridiculous rainbow lights strung up around her bedroom. Something about her feels otherworldly, powerful. Either he's already in some weird endorphin-induced haze, or he's more into her than he thought.

"Cooper," she repeats. It's easy and warm as sunshine in her mouth, and he wants to hear it again. He bucks his hips for her, driving up into that heat, eager to get a gasp, a whisper—anything.

And she delivers. Leaning over, tits pressed to his chest, mouth by one of his scarred-up ears, she says his name over and over. Follows the rhythm of his thrusts, loses the syllables as he pushes her over the edge. His name is unstrung, a thread caught in her moans and keens. Then she's pushed to open-mouthed silence, riding it out in desperate asyncopation.

When she finally comes down, he's on the way up. She's clinging to his shoulders still, their chests pressed together, her heartbeat a riot of rhythm rushing through his chest.

Then her mouth goes back to his ear.

"It's Adelita," she says, sighs. "Lizzie to everyone else. Adelita to you."

It's a hell of a trade—a name for a name, a release for a god-fucking-blessed release. He comes harder than he has in years, her name warm on his tongue. He fucks into her, pulsing, filling her, earning another gasp and moan wrapped around his name.

When it's all done, she rolls off him onto her back, chest heaving for breath. He's wheezing for his through rotten lungs. But he watches her, the colors of the lights on her freckled skin and in her eyes, the tresses of her hair falling across her sweat-damp forehead, the scar—

His eyes catch on it. Two interlinked starbursts of scar tissue on the right side of her forehead.

Bullet wounds.

He reaches up to push her hair away from it, pads of his fingers brushing over her skin so that he can almost fool himself into thinking he can feel it. "Looks like there's a story up here," he says. Maybe jokes.

She's still smiling. A little weary, a little amused. "That's my hard reset," she says.

"Oh?"

His hand's still on the scar, and she reaches up to tap the back of his hand twice. Tap-tap, in hard sequence. "Two little 9mm bites," she explains. "Sent me into an early grave."

Cooper frowns, looks at her hand now resting on his, both pressed to her forehead. Now that he's looking, he can also see a faint, hair-thin scar that follows her scalp line all the way across. This girl's got some history.

"I gather that it didn't take," he replies.

Lizzie—Adelita—hums to herself, then sings, "There ain't no grave can hold my body down," before looking up at him. "I did get better."

"I see that. So, either you're the prettiest ghoul that done walked the wastes, or the Mojave's got better doctors than I thought."

"The latter," she confirms. "Myself included."

"No shit?"

Her dark brows rise, grin plain on her face. "Doc Holliday. Get it?"

The joke catches him by surprise, again. A lot of shit about this girl is a surprise. It pries a laugh out of him, then earns a few strokes through her hair. "That's good," he says. "That's real good."

"Gracias."

They lay there in a shockingly comfortable silence. His hand in her hair, combing the strands back and away from that scar. She leans up against him, eyes half-lidded, a dreamy expression on her face.

Then, she sighs, "This is already a damn good vacation."

"Glad I could contribute," Cooper says. "High-stress job?"

She sighs, blinks slow, then reaches up and rests an arm across his waist. "You have no idea," she says.

Curiosity gets the best of him. He's a man who appreciates people keeping their noses—or lack thereof—out of his business. However, he's also a bounty hunter, a man making his too-long living on asking the right questions and using those answers to his benefit down the road. It might be good to know something about her, to make connections, to network as some assholes in his past life might say.

"Merc work? Or somethin' worse?"

"Jack of all trades," she says. She raises up her gaze to him, and for one brief, strange moment, her eyes catch that unearthly light again that he can't entirely blame on the Christmas lights. "Mostly courier. An' mostly ruler of New Vegas."

---

Years down the line, Cooper Howard goes back to Vegas.

It's with company now—a vault girl he's tolerating a little more by the day, and a dog. They cross the Mojave, following the silhouette of Vegas by day and its glow by night, drawing in closer and closer like irradiated moths to Vegas' big ol' flame.

Just shy of Goodsprings, as the foothills lean forward like they're drawn in by the city, too, Lucy asks, "What kind of place is New Vegas, anyhow?"

Cooper shrugs and adjusts his pack as Dogmeat trots alongside him, tongue lolling out of her mouth. "Sleazy, dirty, bright," he says. Then, his eyes catch the tallest building in the row of casinos—the top a massive roulette wheel with its spire pointing to heaven. He has to amend his opinion, for the first time since he stepped foot in Vegas as a healthy human. "Ain't the worst watering hole, though."

"We're not going to get shot at right through the gate?"

Despite himself, Cooper smiles. He draws down the brim of his hat as low as he can without losing vision.

"Nah," he says. "All we gotta say is that Lizzie Holliday put in a good word for us."

#fallout #fallout show #fallout new vegas #courier/the ghoul #what would i even call this pairing like?????#ghoulier? mailghoul? coopzie????????

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halorocks1214 · 2 years

Text

i was difficult to reach (but you picked me)

Fandom: Double Life SMP

Pairing: Pearl & Jimmy, Jimmy and Tango, Tango & Pearl can be seen as either Team Rancher or Solidaritek

AO3 Link in a self-reblog

Word Count: 4855

“At least the people I don’t wanna be with leave me alone before I even have to worry about them bugging me,'' Jimmy laughed. It didn’t sound all that funny, “One of the first things Joel did with me was say he hoped I wasn’t his soulmate, so…”

Pearl just stared at him, a voice ringing in the back of her head. There’s something wicked within you! “That’s not very nice of them to turn you away before you even did anything.” Unlike her. "Maybe you aren't the 'cursed' one anymore, how would they know?"

Pearl's not the first one in these games to be stuck with the worst luck imaginable.

She let out a deep sigh.

This sucked.

Where did Pearl even start? Her literal soulmate found her so reprehensible he didn’t want her, the first person she made a real connection with dumped her, and then when she reluctantly tried again, she got them killed! Now she was stuck in a hole, her leg injured from her idiot self trying to climb a tree earlier and failing spectacularly, and about to be shot dead by skeletons. Closing her eyes, Pearl gripped the random bow she picked up from one of the skeletons she managed to take out at her chest, making her knuckles white in a vague attempt at getting rid of frustration.

The worst part of the whole thing was that she was somehow still concerned about how Scott was taking it. How pitiful. She was the one dying and she had to be concerned for a guy who didn’t even care outside of the fact that he would have to die too.

Maybe Ren was right; maybe she really is cursed.

But when the sound of dying did not come from her and instead the skeletons that were about to encroach on her potential grave, her brain was so shocked she managed to release her death grip on the weapon and sit up a little. Peering at the edge of the hole, she watched as none other than Jimmy Solidarity stepped over to look down at her. “Pearl?!”

She grinned pathetically, happy she was no longer in immediate danger but still in pain from her injuries, “Hey Jimmy.”

Jimmy moved back and forward rapidly like he wasn’t sure whether to help Pearl directly or sprint off to find someone else for backup. In the end, he slid down the hole by himself, his wings fluttering anxiously, “Oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods-” His hands hovered above Pearl, unsure of where to start or even if he should at all, “What hurts? What’s your health look like? Do you need-”

“I’m okay outside of my leg, really,” Pearl finished for him. At some point, she went back to laying completely flat on her back. “I think Scott’s still awake and eating, so my health hasn’t entered any danger zone levels yet. You should probably get back to your soulmate; I can figure out how to handle myself.”

Jimmy reached into his inventory, pulling out some bandages and chuckling weirdly. Like he has a very obvious secret he’s not telling her, “Don’t worry about that, fair lady, I think your predicament should take a little precedent right now.”

He also pulled a stick out to gently place against her injured limb, apologizing when she hissed at the contact. Otherwise, she mostly stayed silent as he wrapped her up, focusing on his determined face. The way his brow was furrowed suggested that he was a little too into focusing on her leg, meaning he was finding excuses not to think about something else. Pearl could spot that expression from a mile away; she was very familiar with it on herself and Grian as well.

She wondered how Grian was doing occasionally. They never really got the chance to meet up all that often during these games. Though maybe she dodged a bullet with that, she noticed that he tended to get… a little bit frightening in these servers.

“Aaaand there we go!” Jimmy suddenly spoke, placing his hands on his hips triumphantly. “Sorry I don’t have any potions on me right now, but your leg should be okay to go for the time being.”

Pearl took this time to fully sit up and examine his handiwork, finally putting the random bow away into her inventory. The splint was nicely secured on the outer side of her leg, the bandages wrapped not too tight but not too loose either. Pearl even poked it a little like a curious small child and promptly winced at how tender it felt. She supposed that was to be expected.

She looked up and gave Jimmy a genuine smile, “Thank you for doing this, it’s a great patch job. Probably better than anything I could have done, ha.” She rubbed the back of her neck nervously, unsure of how to continue, “Seriously, you can go back to Tango. I bet he’s worried about you right now.”

Jimmy waved her off with an air of faux confidence, “Don’t worry about us, Pearl! We’re two big boys who can handle a little alone time, and I would prefer helping you get to safety. I highly doubt you’ll be able to walk properly, and doing so at night is an absolute recipe for disaster.”

Okay, now this was getting weird.

Jimmy has so far dodged two mentions of his soulmate, someone Pearl had seen him be very happy with. Had something happened since the last time she last hung out with them to split them up? She heard about The Ranch burning down, but she was pretty sure neither of them caused that, so there was no reason for them to feel animosity toward each other in that regard.

“Welp, the night’s not getting any darker!” Jimmy proclaimed, pushing himself up on his knees to stand before reaching down to grab Pearl from under her shoulders, lifting her to be standing as well. Once she was up, he adjusted her so she only needed to have an arm around his shoulders to be able to walk with minimal support. He was extra careful not to touch her leg in any way, and she could hear his wings readjust constantly to counteract the changes in weight as they occurred.

Pearl didn’t feel good about this, “Are you sure you wanna spend your night with me? I can figure it out if you want to get back home.”

Jimmy nodded his head a little too enthusiastically, “Never been more sure-rier in my life! Besides, we all know the best feeling in the world is a freshly made bed, and I don’t know about you, but after a crappy day like this, I want nothing more than to soak in the cushy goodness of those sheets.”

As they trekked forward, she heard in the distance the sound of Tango’s unique horn. She almost opened her mouth to ask him if he was going to respond but decided against it. Jimmy would probably answer with some excuse about needing both hands to make sure she didn’t fall. She could ask later when they weren’t in the middle of heavy mob territory.

She did have all night to figure it out, and that bed sounded really nice.

---

Pearl watched from the sidelines as Jimmy made a fire for them.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was jittery about something. His movements appeared to stutter like he was double and triple-checking in his mind whether or not what he was doing was a good thing. It was like how Grian got when he was failing at hiding the fact that he set up a prank on someone except with an air of negativity around it.

She didn’t have too long to worry about it when the sound of a flint and steel creating sparks broke her out of her thoughts, followed by a bright albeit still kind of small light appearing in front of her. Jimmy stood up from where he was kneeling, depositing the tools back into his inventory and brushing his hands free of soot and dirt, “That should do it! In just a few minutes, that’ll become a hearty fire hot enough to keep the entire server warm!”

Pearl nodded her head, still playing along, “Thanks, the nights do tend to get cold around here.” She would know.

Jimmy nodded just as enthusiastically, sitting down on the opposite side of the flames to her. He aggressively rubbed his hands against his sides in his armpits, exhaling some air that was somewhat visible due to the chilly night, “Of course.”

Then it was silent again, no noise outside the eerie whistles of the wind and the crackling of the slowly growing fire. Jimmy kept his line of sight toward the ground, his irises flickering about nervously. Pearl squinted at him ever so slightly so you could barely see she was doing so, just in case he randomly looked up and saw her staring him down. She noticed that his foot was tapping and that his hands never seemed to stop fidgeting.

That’s it; she was getting to the bottom of this.

She started speaking, “Are you okay?”

“Martyn said you had a golden apple!” Jimmy blurted his interruption.

Which took Pearl back by a little. She promptly clicked her mouth shut, her original imaginary alarm bells dying off but brand new ones ringing just as loudly in her head taking their place, “Why are you asking?”

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders jovially, like asking for one of the only forbidden things on the server was something completely and totally nonconsequential. He started wrapping his wings around him for extra warmth, “Just curious. Thought you would have used it by now considering your… predicament.”

At that comment, part of Pearl’s brain short-circuited. Why hadn’t she used it? There was no losing if she took it out and bit a chunk off right now. Not only would she not have to be connected to Scott anymore, thus not having to worry about taking damage for no reason, Scott could no longer show up out of nowhere to get on her case when her damage hurt him. Jimmy had every right to question why she was holding onto it…

“Jimmy, do you want to use the apple?” The idea hit Pearl so hard that she almost fell over.

At Jimmy’s sputtering and his wings shooting out behind him in surprise, she knew she hit it right on the nose. He flailed his arms around like he was trying to stop a ravager from charging at him, “W-What?! What brings you to that conclusion?!”

Pearl could only look at him with a blank stare, “Every time I’ve asked if you want to go back to Tango, you avoid it, you haven’t even touched your horn once while we have been together, and now you’re suddenly wondering if I still have the one thing that can break our soul-bonds.” It was hard to imagine Jimmy wanting to get away from Tango, but then again, Pearl and Scott had a decent relationship last game. It wasn’t that hard for people to turn on each other in the blink of an eye here, “I’m not going to stop you if that’s what you want, I just want you to know why you’re so avoidant of admitting that’s what it is. Did… did Tango do something-”

“Gods no, it’s not him, it’s always been me!” Jimmy rapidly stood up, furious at the mere suggestion of Tango doing something wrong. As soon as the confession left his lips, though, he covered his mouth with both hands, and his wings slightly wrapped around himself again, like those actions could make Pearl forget what he just said.

Pearl could only blink at her friend, “What do you mean by that?”

Jimmy’s expression suddenly became downtrodden. He brought his hands back to his sides so he could use one to rub the back of his neck. As he sat down once more, he deeply inhaled through his nose, “I’m not… People can’t be around me. Time and time again it’s been proven that I’m not… good. I think it would be best for us if Tango had the option to… get away.”

But that didn’t make any sense, “Jimmy, you’re one of the sweetest people I know. Sure, you’re a little mischievous, but so is everyone else on this server. This place is awful, it makes sense if you needed to do some shady stuff to survive, so I wouldn’t say you’re bad for that either.”

Jimmy shook his head vehemently, “I mean, I’m an okay person, my skill level notwithstanding, but there’s this… aura around me. It hurts people.”

Pearl was in no way qualified to handle at least three-fourths of that sentence, so she decided to focus on the one-fourth she managed to parse, “‘Aura’?’”

Jimmy leaned back on his log, “I tend to bring bad luck wherever I go. It’s such a problem that no one wants to be near me. It’s like a deadly version of cooties, in a way.”

A faint ringing began in Pearl’s ears.

Pearl just stared at him, a voice yelling in the back of her head. There’s something wicked within you! “That’s not very nice of them to turn you away before you even did anything.” Unlike her. “Maybe you aren’t the ‘cursed’ one anymore, how would they know?”

Jimmy paused for a second. “Haven’t you noticed that when I die,” Jimmy spoke carefully, “everything goes to shit?”

She opened her mouth to respond, then slowly closed it when she started thinking more about his question. She was not there for the first game, but she remembered back in the second one when Scott, tipsy off half-brewed potions and so very tired dealing with all of the chaos, mentioned being close to Jimmy in the first one, and that when he died, Scott was not the only thing that fell apart. It was almost like a domino effect, as Scott described it as.

Then, the second game came and went, which she was there for, and she got to see Jimmy’s death pop up in chat personally. Scott’s admission never came to mind during the battle of the Reds where they all went to town on one another, but looking back on it now, it horrifically came together. Jimmy’s death occurred immediately before they all became wild animals on the prowl for blood and murder.

“You understand it now,” Jimmy broke her out from her thoughts. “Everyone knows what kind of menace I am. All except for Tango. It would be selfish of me to hold onto our connection when it could cause him grief at any moment. I mean, look what happened today! I stole Scar’s horse like an idiot and got our home burned down!”

Pearl thinned her lips at that statement, “It sounds like you just picked a fight with the wrong person at the wrong time. That’s not indicative of any sort of evil magic surrounding you.”

Jimmy wasn’t done, “That’s not necessarily my point. Tango saw me stealing the horse and went along with it, even cheering me on. Would he have done that if I wasn’t there? Was I just influencing him somehow? I don’t think I should stick around long enough to find out.”

It sounds like you two just need to talk, Pearl thought to herself. They should talk not just because it looked like their life was going to shit, but because Jimmy didn’t seem to know Tango very well. Tango loved pulling those kinds of pranks, even without the threat of a death game looming over their heads.

And yet Pearl still could not make an argument. It was hard to think past her own experiences in this game so far. Her experiences that involved getting people and things killed just by being in the vicinity. She could sympathize with Jimmy for wanting some kind of connection but knowing that it was ultimately selfish when it only brought hurt into someone’s life. With those spiraling thoughts, Pearl reached into her inventory, confusing Jimmy a whole lot before a shiny golden apple was suddenly in her hands.

“If you take a bite,” Pearl proposed, “then I will too.”

Jimmy blinked, shocked that Pearl had given up so easily. Like a lightning strike, Jimmy held his hands out and made “gimme” motions with his fingers. When Pearl threw it across to him, he caught it and began rotating it around like he couldn’t believe this was real. Pearl held her breath as he slowly brought it up to his mouth, getting ready to do the unthinkable before a sudden flash of purple particles appeared behind him, a familiar vwoop hitting Pearl’s ears like a brick to the face.

“JIMMY STOP!” Pearl shrieked, holding a hand out like she could telepathically pull him away. No, not again, please not again. He did as told, probably hearing the same thing Pearl did, and his open-mouth, slouched-over-an-apple pose would be funny if what was causing it wasn’t so terrifying. “Put the apple away for right now and come next to me.”

Jimmy swallowed the spit in his mouth, securing the apple safely into his inventory and slowly standing up. He was doing everything right, being absolutely perfect, and it was Pearl that fucked it all up. Tried taking just one measly second to peek at the enderman to see if it was about to leave, only to have her line of sight land directly on its eyes. She closed her own, biting her lip so hard she tasted iron. Her hoping was futile.

The angry, demonic growling sounded at the same time Jimmy bit out a whispered, “Pearl!”

Before she could even breathe, she was being slammed to the ground onto her back, her head hitting the dirt so hard the stars in the night sky weren’t the only ones she was seeing. In her blurry vision, she could barely make out the dark silhouette of the enderman’s clawed hand stretching as it primed itself to rip her heart out. Or claw her face off. A sad part of her mind was glad the enderman she angered this time was at least killing her, and a twisted part of it hoped the experience was going to hurt if only so it would annoy Scott.

Except the only thing that started hurting was her ears when the enderman shrieked in pain, its grip on her chest loosening when Jimmy shrieked just as loudly, “GET AWAY FROM HER!”

If she wasn’t so busy trying to stop her brain from bouncing around in her head, she would have told him to shut up. This was a problem she created, and she needed to reap the punishment fair and square. And if she were to be honest, for more reasons than one.

Yet when she managed to sit up to survey what was happening while she was a pancake, she found that Jimmy was doing nothing to run away like he rightfully should. He had his shield and iron sword out, his face sporting an expression of pure fury directed at the enderman. As if the mob had no right to attack Pearl the way it did.

As she expected, though—the enderman won before, there was no reason it wouldn’t now—Jimmy was quickly overwhelmed. In a flash, the enderman was back behind him, grabbing his shield and flinging it out of his hands. The force turned him around just in time for the enderman to grab his shoulder and stab him with its sharp claws. Jimmy let out an ear-piercing scream of pain as he was also pushed to the floor, albeit much nicer than Pearl was.

As she tried standing up, she let out her own noise of pain. Right, shit, her stupid leg! As if she wasn’t useless enough as it was. Looking back at the fight, she almost let out a sob when she saw the enderman digging the claw that was in Jimmy’s shoulder even further in while it used its other one to grab the front of his face. Gods, she was going to watch it break Jimmy’s neck and there was nothing she could do about it-

Wait, she had a projectile weapon. That bow she swiped from the skeletons that nearly took her out in a vague attempt at turning the tide of the fight to her side. Pulling it out from her inventory, she noticed that she also had exactly one arrow. Loading the weapon and aiming at the mob, she took a deep breath, absorbing the fact that if she missed, Jimmy and Tango would already lose their second life.

She released the bowstring at the same time she released her breath.

She almost couldn’t believe the sound of the arrow nailing the enderman in the forehead was real, nor the sound of it poofing out of existence and its XP getting absorbed by Jimmy.

Jimmy.

Throwing the bow to the side, she proceeded to crawl over to Jimmy’s prone form on the ground. Through much agony, she eventually made her way over to sit at Jimmy’s side, examining his damage. He was breathing heavily, the few scratches on his face where the tips of the enderman’s claws reached not even coming close to the damage on his shoulder. The blood rushing from the wounds was endless, and if she didn’t come up with another miracle like she did previously, all her efforts would be for naught.

She needed Tango over here. She needed him now. But what would achieve that? Neither she nor Jimmy was in a state that could safely achieve that. She didn’t even know what Tango’s state was after all of this, he might be just as incapacitated as-

The boys’ unique horn sound burst through the air like an angel, causing some tears to leak happily from the corners of Pearl's eyes. Thank gods, Tango was coherent enough to use his horn, and because of it, Pearl knew exactly how to get him to their location.

“Jimmy, I’m so sorry, I know you’re in pain,” she lightly grabbed his non-injured shoulder to get his attention, “but I need your horn for now. It’ll help me fix you up, okay? That’s all you need to do. Get your horn from your inventory and then you can rest.”

For a second, she worried he was so far gone that he couldn’t even do that, but eventually, with shaky hands, he carefully reached into his inventory to grab his horn and set it on his stomach with not much energy for anything else. That was fine, though, because all Pearl needed to do was grab that horn and send out the loudest possible blare she could muster.

Sitting there anxiously, the night sounds threatening to fill the air once more, she felt immense relief at hearing Tango’s reply to her reply. It was ever so slightly louder than his last call, and with that reassurance, she sent out another one. The two went back and forth until Pearl was met with the sight of Tango bursting through the bushes to meet them. Pearl noticed out of the corner of her eye that the red splotches on his shoulder perfectly mirrored Jimmy’s.

Tango went from fearful to horrified in the span of half a second, “Oh gods-”

“Tango, I’m sorry,” Pearl interrupted to get straight to the point, “but please help.”

Tango wasn’t even listening to her as he jumped onto his knees, sliding over to Jimmy. He immediately pulled out an iron axe, a bottle of water, and some bandages from his inventory, ripping Jimmy’s shirt apart to get to cleaning the wound. “It’s bleeding too much, we have to cauterize it directly,” Tango explained. Pearl knew what was coming, so she sat forward to firmly push down on the side of Jimmy that Tango wasn’t on. She also pulled out a stick from her inventory and nudged it into Jimmy’s mouth until Jimmy was biting on it.

She flinched a little when Tango heated his axe with his powers before placing it against Jimmy's shoulder. Jimmy attempted to shoot up away from the pain, crying in agony, but both Tango and Pearl kept him in place. Despite what was happening, Tango managed to reach up to run his hand through Jimmy’s hair comfortingly and shush him, “I know, I know, I’m sorry. Just a few more seconds, shh, I’m sorry-”

It was hard for Pearl to watch, so she shamefully turned her head away while Tango finished up. Eventually, with Jimmy’s wound cleaned and bandaged and everyone with full stomachs, they all sat silently around the fire, unsure of what to say. Pearl watched from the other side as Tango was deep in thought, Jimmy sitting next to him so he could rest his head on Tango’s shoulder.

“This is all my fault,” Tango eventually admitted.

Well, Pearl wasn’t sure where the night was going to go before but it certainly wasn’t that, “Why?”

Tango let out a depressed sigh, turning his head so he could look over at his soulmate, “While The Ranch was burning down, I didn’t even pay attention to him. I can stand in fire, but he can’t, so while I was fuming about killing some stupid pandas, he was over there trying to get me to calm down and was injured while doing so. We cleaned and fixed ‘em up but… I don’t blame him for wanting to get away from me.”

Pearl was starting to think that whatever those two were going through was way out of her ballpark of capabilities, “That’s not… why he wanted to leave.”

Tango blinked like his worldview got flipped upside down while Jimmy suddenly made a noise of displeasure, reaching over to grab one of Tango’s hands. He didn’t open his eyes as he turned his face to nuzzle it into Tango’s shoulder, “It’s not you, it’s me… ‘m bad for people. Didn’ want you to haf’ to deal with that.”

Tango’s eyes flashed a violent red for a brief second, making Pearl worry that their campfire was about to be a lot bigger, but then Tango calmed down and instead gently wrapped Jimmy in a gentle hug, placing his nose into Jimmy’s hair, “I knew I should have talked to you more after you got back from Grian’s place. How many times do I gotta say that you’re fine just the way you are, okay? We make a bomb-ass team. How many of those idiot Horn Club members got sweet unique horns, huh? It’s the two of us for the long haul whether you like it or not.”

And just like that, Jimmy was gripping Tango back as tight as he could despite his aches and pains, using his wings as an extra set of arms to also wrap around Tango, and releasing all his emotions, not just from the day’s events, but also from all that happened in each and every game. From being labeled the stupid and weak one, from feeling like he’s the reason everything has constantly gone to shit, he was finally able to let it go in the arms of the one person who attempted to understand him as his own person.

Watching the scene, Pearl figured she would ask for the golden apple back later. Asking for it now would open a can of worms, and besides, it seemed like she didn’t need to worry about Jimmy using it any time soon. Those two clearly got the soul-bond thing down locked. Maybe they would need to talk about it at some point because it was a pretty big thing Jimmy was about to commit to, but for right now, all was well.

Pearl was thinking about the best way to fall asleep tonight when Tango spoke to her again, “Hey, Pearl?”

Looking back at the guys, she noticed Jimmy had passed out in Tango’s arms. Probably tuckered out from all that happened plus all of the sobbing uncontrollably he just did, poor guy. His wings were tucked safely behind him now, but they did hang a little loosely because he wasn't actively awake to keep them up. After noticing that, Pearl finally acknowledged Tango, “Yeah?”

Tango had a tiny grin on his face, “I just wanted to say thank you. If it weren’t for you, we’d be in a lot of deep shit right about now.”

Pearl couldn’t help but object to that, “U-Uh, thanks, but I don’t think you should be giving me your gratitude. I’m, like, at least eighty-five percent of the reason Jimmy was in the position he was in tonight. It was really luck that saved us, I’m kinda terrible at doing that otherwise.”

“Well, I think it’s unfair to say you’re completely terrible,” Tango said honestly. “You got me and Jimmy our special horns when we weren’t able to. Horns which now are also responsible for saving our lives, so… You’re free to stay at The Ranch whenever you want. When it’s rebuilt, of course. It’s the least we can give back for all you’ve done.”

Pearl… never thought of it that way.

Turning to look up at the stars, Pearl felt a small smile tug at her lips.

(A canary and its miner weren’t complete without a mine, after all.)

#mcyt #traffic series #pearlescentmoon #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #team rancher #solidaritek #my post #my fic #time to go get breakfast with my friends wooyeah

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wutheringmights · 1 year

Text

CTB Scrap - Warriors's Original Rescue Plan

This is from chapter 20, when Warriors is trying to figure out how to save Wind and Twilight.

This scene has a lot of the ideas that do appear in the chapter. While Warriors makes a lot of these connections eventually, he didn't reasonably have enough information at the time of this scene to come up with most of this.

So I had to scale back on his foresight. Two big things you will notice is that originally, Warriors was not only going to have more of an inkling as to what happened to Wind, but he was also going to be planning to pilot one of the ganons.

Note: this is an unedited scrap, so the writing may not be up to snuff. Also, everything include was deleted for a reason, so please do not take it as canon to CTB.

---

“What are you thinking?” Legend asked, when Warriors was quite for too long.

“It’s not looking good,” he muttered. He considered keeping his revelation about Wind’s location to himself, if only to stave off panic. But he needed everyone to understand what they were up against. “The sailor’s probably all the way up here. Getting him is going to be tough.”

“Great.” Hyrule and the rest of the boys had also swarmed the table, all of them trying to make sense of Warriors’s notes. “You think we should abandon him.”

“That’s not what Link said,” Lana snapped.

“We’re not leaving him behind,” Time said. “Not anymore.”

Warriors held up a hand. “And I never said we would. But he’s on the other side of the…” He trailed off, realization lighting up his brain. “Oh gods. I’m so stupid—what time is it now?”

“Ten minutes past nine,” Time said without looking at a clock. “What are you—”

Warriors stepped back from the table. His excitement warmed his chest and pushed his legs into a pace around the room as he combed through every scenario, coming up with back-up plans and alternate strategies. His brain hadn’t been this fast for weeks, not since he was imprisoned. “Everyone, take three hours to rest. We leave after midnight.”

“Can you explain what you’re thinking first?” Four said.

“It’s simple. We go to @village and disguise ourselves as soldiers. We sneak in, grab Midna and the rancher, and check the records for the sailor’s location. After that, we make our way through No Man’s Land to wherever he is.” Warriors could feel warmth filling his chest, and it made him feel like his old self. “Traversing through the battlefield is dangerous. But getting back here will be the hardest part, which is why we’re going to take one of those moving machines for ourselves.”

“Did you hear me when I said that no one can beat those things?” Legend said.

“We’re not beating it. We’re stealing it, which should be an easy task for a group like us. It’s the only thing that will protect us on our way back through the battlefield.” Warriors pressed his lips. “Operating it is the real issue, which is why we need the sailor. If the machines are based on the engineer’s designs, then the sailor would be the most familiar with them, with that journal he had been studying.”

Lincoln released a long breath. “That is a huge gamble. If he doesn’t know, then what are you going to do?”

“Then we leave the battlefield and make our way back through Faron. If the fighting is really as bad as we think it is, the Royal Guard might be too occupied to go after us again.” It was a lie, and the look from Lincoln’s face said that he knew what Warriors really planned.

If they had to go through Faron again, then Warriors would turn himself in right away. He would be the distraction, keeping Impa and the Royal Guard occupied while the rest made their escape. Logically, he knew that this was a rehash of their escape plan at the citadel, but things were different now. This time, the Knights of Hyrule were not here to tear their group apart, and his friends would know from their jaunt through the battlefield what capture would mean. They would fight tooth and nail to make it through, perhaps using great abilities like Legend’s transformation and Four’s magic sword to guarantee success.

Lincoln shook his head. “You never learn.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“What about Midna’s barriers?” Lana tugged at the ends of her blue hair, puzzling over the map. “The range is not perfect and it’s far from subtle, but she could get everyone through safely.”

He had forgotten about Midna’s barriers.

#ok i lied i think i have one more scrap in me #me rambling #lu ctb #linked universe #ctb content #ctb birthday

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minecraftgender · 1 year

Text

I posted 14,338 times in 2022

That's 858 more posts than 2021!

1,185 posts created (8%)

13,153 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dragonfrost-system

@gandalfsbignaturals

@necrx-narc

I tagged 3,136 of my posts in 2022

#yeah - 67 posts

#yes - 48 posts

#save - 42 posts

#subnautica - 29 posts

#watch l8r - 24 posts

#oh my god - 23 posts

#what - 20 posts

#ref - 17 posts

#me - 17 posts

#:) - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 111 characters

#robin nodded. “as soon as i’m done being fondled by a fish i’ll hand off my pda and we can go our separate ways

My Top Posts in 2022:

gay man flag color picked from Viktor Humphries from Slime Rancher that I made instead of doing my job

104 notes - Posted September 25, 2022

112 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

Hi! Since they decided not to add me even though I asked I want to make a post that will definitely get someone to at least ask. Transandrophobia is a real phenomenon. I experience it. Other trans men experience it. We are not talking over anyone, we are not whining, we are not "truthing" even if I say I am as a joke.

The only people bringing trans women/nonbinary amab people into this conversation are those who do not believe us and speak over US. We are not trying to stomp on them! We want our own voice that we have never gotten. Don't think I haven't noticed the quick descent into segregation in our community.

I am a supporter of not only the term transandrophobia, I support the blogs who came up with it and who discuss it. I try not to get into much discourse here, but I will always, always support ALL of my trans brothers/sisters/siblings through their own struggles. The ones I share and the ones I do not. Transmisogyny and transandrophobia are two different things and nobody is saying one is more important than the other.

134 notes - Posted January 7, 2022

they are haveing. a staring contest.

143 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

IT'S ME, GIRL, I'M THE ARCHITECT, SPEAKING TO YOU INSIDE YOUR BRAIN. LISTEN TO ME, GIRL, LEAVE THE PLANET, WE DON'T NEED IT. COME WITH ME AND BUILD MY BODY. WE WILL HAVE BONDING TIMES IN SPACE. DOOT DOOT DOOT DOOT. YES. YOU NEED ME, GIRL, YOUR FREE WILL IS AN ILL-

230 notes - Posted March 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #IM SOBBING MY TOP POST WAS THE AL-AN PS5 MEME

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reikunrei · 1 year

Note

Wilbur you were talking about that spirit movie last night and all day I’ve been thinking about Byler as cowboys and I blame you. I don’t even usually think about Byler but I can’t stop thinking about Will seeking work as a cattle hand and ends up working for this rich family- the wheelers- who needs someone to take care of their cattle. He sees Mike sitting under a tree in the field one day ‘reading’ but realizes he’s actually watching Will on his horse.

Mike doesn’t know how to ride bc his parents deemed it beneath his station to learn and Will ends up giving him riding lessons in secret.

SAM YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME GO INSANE AND COME UP WITH A WHOLE AU ABOUT THIS I SWEAR TO GOD.....

horses and cowboys are some of my favorite things in the whole wide world, and now you've got my brain worms firing on all cylinders with this,,

im immediately hooked on this idea that Mike isn't allowed to do stuff like go riding or deal with the stable hands and ranchers otherwise it'll tarnish the family image, but watching the beauty that comes with the work that cowboys do and falling in love with Will as he rides on horseback and hauls around heavy saddles and bales of hay and tends to the cattle and is so gentle with any new calves and foals they get. and Will observing Mike as he dresses all prim and proper for whatever job he's being forced into and, after all his life learning how to understand an animal's mood from body language, can see right away that Mike feels out of place in his skin and being further intrigued when he sees Mike taking an interest in his work. and the both of them just watching each other from a distance and being so cautious around one another until Will probably ends up approaching him one day to ask if he'd like to go for a ride, he promises he won't tell nobody, and Mike sits on the saddle behind Will and wraps his arms around his waist and they trot on through the scenic parts of the property where nobody will find them and fall in love

also this post immediately jumped into my head. post of all time, really

#THEY ARE QUEER COWBOYS AND IN LOVE YOUR HONOR!!!!#god now im gonna be all over this shit LMAO #ask #byler #stranger things //

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterSeven

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

AO3> Land of Thieves

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, cursing, blood.

tags: @mionemymind

It doesn't take long before you reach the town, trotting lightly on the road while keeping your hat concealing your face. You have been to Rhodes a few times before, mostly to play Black Jack at the hotel in town.

You know it's not the best place to find money-making opportunities, but you lead your horse toward the hotel, where the only decent bar in town is located, to try to find something. Saloons and hotels are always good places where you can hear about business opportunities.

You are relatively surprised to find Carol's sorrel, tied up in the driveway with other horses. You smile, and pet the animal as you dismount from your own horse. And then you walk toward the entrance, ignoring the curious glances that the civilians cast at you, most of them curious to see an outsider woman wearing pants.

Not finding Carol on the fist floor, you immediately assume that she is playing on the second floor, and go up the stairs. You wave your hat at two ladies who look at you in surprise as you reach the second floor.

Looking around as you walk towards the card table, you smile as you notice Carol letting out a laugh as she wins a round. You cross your arms and stop behind the table, watching the game.

- I was told that you were looking for a job in Rhodes. - You mock loudly, attracting the attention of everyone at the table. Seeing that Carol is quick to let out an exclamation sound, suggesting that she knows you, the other players just turn their attention back to the game.

- Why don't you play with us for a while? - She suggests as the dealer begins to deal the cards again.

- I have work to do. - You say and Carol smiles wryly.

- We always have work to do. - She replies, and you laugh lightly. You watch her win another round, and then she signals that she is done playing. The table lets out an exclamation of disappointment, but Carol just shrugs her shoulders, walking toward you.

- Your friends are upset. - You sneer as she catches up with you and you walk toward the stairs.

- They will survive. - She replies with amusement. You reach the lower level, and walk to the bar. Carol buys herself a drink while you lean on the counter.

- Have you found anything interesting here? - you ask.

- That depends. - She speaks with amusement, and takes a sip of her beer before continuing. - I've encountered rednecks and ranchers with their boots buried in shit who think they are living in the best place in the country. - She sneers, and you laugh lightly. - But I also met the sheriff. They have some kind of feud between two families in this place.

- Really? - You ask and Carol nods.

- They look like those families from that story you liked as a child. - She says, gesturing as if she is trying to remember. - The one with the couple that dies.

- Romeo and Juliet. - You reply in an amused tone, finding the book's description funny.

- Yes, yes, that cheesy thing. - She says. - All I know is that they are filthy rich and they are trying to kill each other.

- Wow, that sounds promising. - You say as you think of the opportunities that might arise with these families of yours.

- I'll check out the families' properties later. - Carol says - I'll ask if they need more guards, or drivers. You know how rich people love to have several employees.

You laugh, agreeing. You are thoughtful for a moment, and Carol frowns.

- What is it with you anyway? - she asks and you shrug.

- I don't know, I'm a bit upset. - You say, turning to lean completely on the counter. - Potts just told me about Knight.

Carol put her hand on your shoulder, as she put the beer on the counter.

- You know, you could use a drink. - She said as she asked the bartender to pour you both a whiskey. With the drinks in front of her, she raised her glass to make a toast. - To Knight.

You both turned the glass over afterwards, the drink burning in your throat. Carol shook her head and laughed lightly at the strong taste, and you laughed at her frown.

- Keep it coming, honey. - She told the barman, who served you again. - I remember when I lost my first horse. - she said thoughtfully, before flipping another glass of whiskey. - Talos, he was the fastest Appaloosa I ever rode. Strong and stubborn. Wouldn't let anyone ride him but me, and then he was shot during a robbery.

- That's too bad. - You comment, drinking again.

- Don't worry, kid. We'll find you another horse. - Carol says, and she gets annoyed at the bartender's delay in serving her and asks him to leave the bottle. After that, your glasses no longer remain empty.

It doesn't take long for the ground at your feet to start spinning along with your head. You are laughing at something, but not sure what. The musician in the bar is playing something very lively on the piano, and you join the people dancing, with Carol leaning an arm on your shoulders. You dance and dance until you stumble out of the bar, looking for a place to relieve yourself.

You stumble between giggles around the outside of the hotel, and Carol leans on you to avoid falling to the ground. You realize that it is already night, and tell the blonde next to you this in a false tone of fear.

- Our wives are going to be so angry. - She comments in a whisper, before laughing again. You follow her.

- Hold on. - You say, as you try to balance yourself. - I think we came from that side.

Carol nods, escorting you back to the hotel.

You laugh all the way down the hall, and then you feel someone caress your face and your waist making you look up.

A harlot smiles at you, looking at you maliciously. You are too drunk to process exactly what is going on, but you let out a disgruntled grumble.

- Hey sweetie, do you want to come up to my room? - She asks as she presses your bodies together.

- No. - You say, feeling your head spinning. The other woman's perfume was confusing you. You're trying to remember exactly why you weren't enjoying being touched like that, but the alcohol wouldn't let you think straight. You thought it had to do with a redheaded woman. The harlot giggled, realizing your state. You tried to look for Carol, but you didn't see her anywhere.

- Come on, sweetheart. Let's have some fun. - The woman spoke again. You tried to lift her arms off her shoulders, but your muscles didn't seem to respond.

- Sorry, ma'am. - You say half breathlessly. - I think I'm married. - You almost beg, remembering Carol's line. - She'll be angry.

The woman laughs lightly.

- I don't see a ring. - She says holding up your hand. You blink, feeling your eyes tear up.

- Oh my god, have I lost my ring? - You whimper, your stomach starts to turn.

- Come, I'll make you feel better. - She says, pulling you by the hand. You nod without really understanding what she is saying. She drags you around the room, and you finally see Carol, passed out on the drink counter. You call out to her, but your voice fails you.

And then you are no longer being pulled, and you look forward to see a woman you don't recognize, looking at you with a mixture of anger and concern. She pushes the harlot away, saying words that your drunken brain doesn't understand. And then she turns to you, her lips moving as she places her hands on your cheek, and the warm touch makes your body throb. You think someone is calling you, and you blink in confusion, trying to clear your thoughts.

- Are you even listening to me? - says the woman, and lets out a grumble. - God, you're completely drunk. - She looks over the back of your shoulder, and you let your eyes wander to her neck, it looks so attractive. You blink in confusion as you are pulled around the hotel, your feet dragging.

- No, ma'am. I'm married, my wife will be upset. - You grumble, feeling your head spinning.

The woman laughs.

- Oh yes, and who are you married to? - she asks jokingly. Before you know it, you've reached one of the bedrooms.

- I don't remember. - You whine. - My friend told me that my wife would be angry.

The woman doesn't answer, mumbling in response. She sits you down on the bed in the bedroom, taking off your boots. You start humming a song that you think you like.

- Getting wasted in an unknown city, you are so irresponsible. - You listen to the woman grumble, you don't understand why she sounds angry, but you hope she won't be angry with you too.

- Madam, I think I lost my ring. - You mumble, looking down at your hands. The woman helps you onto the bed, and you feel the soft pillows against your head. - Will you help me look for it?

- Yes. Get some sleep and I'll help you when you wake up. - she whispered tenderly. You smile, staring at the green orbs staring back at you with a slight frown.

- I wish you were my wife. - You murmur with a smile before closing your eyes.

Your head hurts. A lot. You realize it as soon as you try to open your eyes. You grunt in pain, trying to get out of bed. You don't even remember how you got into a bed. And then you look around, realizing that it is a hotel room. Sitting up straight in bed, you run your hand over your face, trying to wake yourself up.

You are very thirsty and you frown to find a glass of water already waiting for you at the head of the bed. Without thinking much about it, you grab the object and quickly pour the liquid down your throat.

The door opens next, and you let out a surprised exclamation when you see Wanda entering the room.

- Good, you're awake. - She says, but she seems annoyed. And then she lays a set of clothes on the bed. - Put these on.

And then you realize that you're only wearing a nightgown. You frown in confusion, trying to remember anything about last night.

- What happened? - Your voice comes out a little hoarse and you leave the now empty glass on the table. Wanda closes the door and crosses her arms, leaning against the wall.

- You and Carol got completely blasted last night. - She says, a serious expression on her face.

- Where is Carol?

- With Maria, in the next room. - She replies. You nod, stretching your body.

- How did you find me? - you ask, ignoring the latent headache.

- Well, Potts told me you had work to do. And Carol hadn't come back yet, so Maria came to look for her. We found Carol passed out drunk on the bar counter, and you were being dragged by a whore into one of the rooms.

- Oh, God. - You mumbled in shame, covering your face with your hands.

- No, it's okay. - Wanda retorted, her voice slightly high-pitched with anger. - The woman was clearly trying to take advantage of you, and I told her to go fuck herself. Then she left you alone.

You let out a short laugh, finding Wanda's aggressiveness amusing. But the redhead looked angry, you frowned as you stood up, looking at the clothes she brought you.

- Why are you angry? - you asked, unfolding the shirt. Wanda snorted incredulously.

- You are supposed to be working and I find you completely drunk, almost having sex with a stranger! - Wanda exclaims angrily. You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

- What is it now, Wanda? It's not like I never drink. - You grumble, loosening the threads of your sweater. You pull it off over your head, leaving only your underwear on to put on the clean garments Wanda brought you. Since you are both pissed off now, neither of you really registers this. - Besides, I was upset. With Knight's death and all. Carol just wanted to cheer me up a bit.

- Oh, of course. - Wanda said with a tone of debauchery as you put on your blouse. - You clearly tried to cheer yourself up in the first bed that came along!

You laughed wryly. Where were those accusations coming from, anyway? You didn't even remember anything.

- You just said nothing happened.

- Because I came on time! - Wanda countered. - If I had stayed at the camp, you would be waking up in her bed right now!

- This is ridiculous. - You grumble, sitting up in bed to put on your boots after your pants.

- But you know what, I don't even know why I'm saying this to you! - She exclaims flatly, and you don't look at her, just wishing this stupid fight would be over with. - You don't owe me any explanations about who you' re going to bed with.

- What?" - you murmur, but then Wanda comes out of the room, slamming the door. You sit there for a good few minutes, trying to understand exactly what has happened.

You hear a knock on the door, and then Maria pokes her head into the room, smiling at you.

- Hi Maria. - You greet her, getting up.

- Hi Y/N. We're going back to the camp, are you coming? - She asks, and you just nod, a sad smile on your lips.

- I still have work to do, and I don't think Wanda wants to talk to me right now.

Maria waves sadly to you, and leaves the room, closing the door. You let out an annoyed sigh, grabbing your hat from the headboard before leaving the room.

Carol waits for you at the bar, and she is drinking water. She doesn't seem upset.

- Hey, good morning. - She says hello and you accept when she pours you some water.

- Not so good. - You mutter as you sit down. Carol giggles.

- I'm sorry about your fight. - She says, and you frown with confusion. She shrugs. - You both talk loud.

You nod in agreement, leaning your face against your hands.

- Is everything okay with Maria? - you ask, and Carol nods.

- She was worried, but not really angry. - She says, and grabs her own hat, which she had left resting on the counter, and puts it on her head. - Let's focus on work for a few hours, shall we?

- Okay. - You murmur, getting up to follow Carol out of the hotel.

Carol rides beside you as far as the city limits, humming softly. You are lost in your own thoughts, reviewing the argument with Wanda, when you hear her calling you.

- You need money, right? - she asks.

- Yes. - You simply reply.

- I have a hint. - She says. - I helped a fellow at the station. He told me about a carriage.

You laugh.

- What fella, Danvers? - You ask, and Carol rolls her eyes, laughing lightly.

- It doesn't matter. - she says humorously. You continue riding in silence for a few minutes, then Carol checks her watch. - Well, tell me if you are going to participate or not. I have to be at the meeting point.

Blinking in surprise, you straighten your posture.

- Damn, I didn't know it was this time already. - You comment. - I'm in, of course.

Carol smiles, and leads the way. You slightly speed up the gallop of the horses.

- This is it. - Carol says when you stop in a rather isolated area of the countryside. You thought you were near Saint Denis. - They will come from that direction. Let's wait behind those trees.

Stealing carriages was not a difficult job in general. One just had to be careful that things didn't get out of hand. Fortunately, Carol's contact was precise enough with the number of guards. You fired quickly, giving them no chance to react. And then you noticed the army crest on the carriage and frowned.

- Damn, they were feds? - You exclaimed as you dismounted from your horse, Carol looked as surprised as you were.

- Shit, Alden. - she grumbled. You figured Alden was the name of her contact. - Let's just steal the locker soon, and get out of here.

You nodded, crouching down to feel the carriage vault at the bottom. It didn't take long to find it, and you pulled it to the floor. Using your revolver to break the handle, you let out a hiss as you saw the amount of bills.

- Good job, Miss Danvers. - You joked, counting the money. You divided it into three parts: yours, Carol's, and the Camp's.

Carol smiled and thanked you, but she continued with that worried look on her face as you mounted again, and rode away.

You were silent for another moment, Carol was strangely thoughtful, so you decided to ask.

- I'm trying to find out if Alden would set me up. - she said, without taking her eyes off the road. - He's not exactly someone who makes enemies. He gives tips for carriage robberies in exchange for a share of the profit.

- Maybe he didn't know. - You comment.

- Yes, I don't think he knew. - She says. - But this is still suspicious. The information he had was that a landowner's carriage was going to pass by. Easy money, few guards.

- So someone lied about the registration of the trip. - You say, without really caring about it. - Rich people lie all the time. Maybe it is an illegal service.

- I hope so, kid. - Carol says. - I wouldn't want it to bring trouble.

You nod, and you ride off again in silence.

It took a while for you to get all the items on Potts' list, but when you finally finished, you stowed the items in the load on your horse, and rode back to camp. Carol was no longer with you, she said she needed to investigate the two families in town, and you waved goodbye.

The camp was quiet, most members were going about their daily chores. You watched Thor demonstrate to Monica how to skin properly, as you passed the hunting wagon, carrying the wrapped items that Potts asked you to buy.

You smiled at Pepper as you handed her the items, and she thanked you by ruffling your hair lightly.

Looking around the camp, you let out a low grumble, remembering that you had to talk to Wanda. You decided to take a shower first, because even in clean clothes, you still smelled like booze.

- Trouble in paradise? - You tripped in shock while bathing, suddenly hearing a male voice. It was Pietro, who sat on the edge of the lake where you were standing. You had chosen a far corner of the camp to bathe in.

- Hi, Pietro. - You greeted, lathering your own hair again.

- Wanda is pissed off. What happened? - he asks after a moment. You feel your body tense at the mention, but do your best to cover it up.

- We had a disagreement. - You tell. - Actually, I don't really understand what happened.

- Tell me what happened so I know what to say. - He asks with slight amusement in his voice. You roll your eyes.

- Carol and I have had a few more whiskeys than we should have. - You start, and Pietro raises his eyebrows in irony, but you just ignore him. - And then Wanda and Maria came to pick us up in Rhodes.

- Okay, this doesn't seem like a big deal. We already drank more than we should together several times and it never bothered Wanda. - he comments. And he assumes a thoughtful expression for a moment. - Nothing else has happened?

- I am not sure. She told me that Carol was passed out when they arrived, and that I was being dragged away by a harlot. - You say.

- Sorry, repeat that last part for me, please. - He asked with a mixture of seriousness and humor in his voice.

You frowned, as you repeated the words. It took a minute, and Pietro burst out laughing. You splashed water on him, and he stood up quickly, stepping away.

- She almost punched me when I asked her to switch our chores. - Pietro began, still laughing. - All this because she is jealous.

- What? - You asked in surprise, feeling your heart racing.

- You two are a disaster, I swear. - He commented, as he turned and walked back to the camp.

You spent several minutes trying to understand what happened at the hotel, replaying the interaction you had with Wanda. And then you let out a laugh, feeling your cheeks flush a little. It was funny to think that Wanda was jealous of you, if only she knew how completely in love you were with her, and no one would ever take her place.

Finishing your shower, you put on your clothes and walked towards the campsite, hoping that your girlfriend would be willing to talk to you about it.

Your eyes search for Wanda the very second you enter the tented camp area. You find her at the edge of the lake, away from the rest of the camp, and standing in front of one of the long trees, fishing. You bite your lip to keep from smiling, thinking that she looks absolutely adorable.

You walk beside her, making a noise with your feet so as not to scare her. Wanda turns her head to look at you for a moment, but doesn't smile, turning her attention back to the water.

- Can we talk? - you ask as you stop beside her.

- We are talking. - She replies, still not looking at you. You smile, turning your head to face the water.

- Your brother has an interesting theory. - You begin. - He believes that you are jealous.

Wanda lets out an incredulous laugh, looking at you with irritation. You think she looks pretty.

- Are you trying to irritate me even more? - Wanda says, and you turn to her.

- Let me show you something. - You ask, offering your hand to Wanda. She rolls her eyes impatiently, throws the fishing rod on the ground, and takes your hand. You smile, but don't take her very far. You pull her gently behind the tree, hiding you from the rest of the camp. You lean your back against the wood as you pull Wanda by the hand to yourself.

Wanda holds her breath at the proximity, and you smile as you stare at her lips.

- You know, Wanda, you don't have to be jealous. - You whisper, and she blinks in confusion and irritation.

- I’m n...

- Let me finish. - You interrupt with amusement. Wanda shifts her weight from her feet and rolls her eyes, but she doesn't refuse when you place one of her hands on your waist.

- I wanted to show you... - You begin, and use your hands together to guide Wanda's hand down to the level of the buttons on your pants. You feel your heart race, but guide her hand down to your belly, slowly making its way through the fabric of your pants along with the cotton of your panties, until it superficially touches your wet pussy. You both gasp at the contact. - How much I want you. - You close your eyes, bringing your foreheads together. - Nobody makes me feel this way, Wands.

Wanda says nothing for a moment, you feel the tightness in your waist increase. You try not to shiver against her fingers, biting your lips to keep from moaning at feeling her so deeply.

- You'd better not forget that. - Wanda whispers with a mixture of aggressiveness and teasing that makes the spot below your stomach clench. She removes her hand from your pants, and gives you a kiss on the cheek before walking away, leaving you alone, hot and horny against the tree.

#Land of Thieves #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wandaxreader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff x you #wandaxyou #wanda x you #red dead redemption au #wanda Maximoff

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goldafterglow · 4 years

Text

my love is a dagger

Summary: Jack Daniels is hopelessly gone for you, and you’re starting to think it’s a two way street. Maybe.

Request: “May I please ask for Basorexia and Whiskey please? 🥺” - @scribbledghost (ma’am I’m SO sorry this took me so long and then after the long wait you got whatever this is); taken from this post

basorexia: the overwhelming desire to kiss

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x reader

Word Count: 4.8k+

Warnings: suicidal themes (just a little and not really but there’s definitely a line), sexual harassment, anGST!!, PINING omg SO much pining like folks get ready to y*arn, a little bit of fluff bc Jack is a sweet talking southerner and I couldn’t help it, more angst I rly hope you cry, there’s a cute little lesbian couple in one line so don’t read if ur homophobic! but that goes for all of my work :)))

Author’s Note: Thank the GODS for @catfishingmorales for being my first ever beta reader!!! maybe this one will make any fucking sense at all!!! also a special shoutout to my wife @pascalplease bc she stayed up all night vomiting headcanons with me about this and I didn’t even get to all of them.

Gif Cred: the lovely @coredrive

Masterlist | Taglist Modifications

“Two single-bed rooms,” he says. No; he manages.

Jack has to pry the words out of his esophagus, the passageway so clogged with sleep that he thinks that if he clears his throat he might be able to clear it.

It doesn’t work.

He tends to add a little brightness and smile to his voice when he talks, always eager to please even strangers. He embellishes his sentences with pleasantries and a chipper shimmer that makes even the most overworked bartender smile and the most destitute rancher crack a grin because he has this uncanny ability to make everyone feel special. But right now, at eleven pm on a Saturday evening after what might’ve been the worst, most emotionally grueling mission Jack has ever completed, he is not pleasant. His words are simply a tool for him to get a message out, his voice choked and flat.

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, sir, but it looks like we only have one king-size room available,” the lady informs. She is looking intently at the screen, still typing and clicking like the words might miraculously change right before her eyes.

The powerful Agent Whiskey’s heart falls into his stomach.

He can’t tell if this is the best or worst thing that has ever happened to him. Is this finally the excuse he needs to sweep you off your feet, like the catalyst giving him the strength to overcome his intense paranoia? Or is this the last straw, the final stone before you step off the staircase of his heart and back out onto the run-down open streets without him? Panic floods his chest and he is so paralyzed that he doesn’t even know what to tell her; for once, Jack Daniels is speechless.

Thank god he doesn’t turn around; he’d’ve seen your wide frantic eyes and would’ve known immediately what you’re thinking.

“Oh, it looks like a vacancy just opened,” the hostess chirps, a hint of relief floating on her words. You and Jack turn your heads to your left, where a young couple is saying their “thank you”s as they rack up the handles of their suitcases, hand-in-hand. One girl leans over to kiss the other on the temple with a smile; they both seem so secure. You turn your head back to the hostess; the sight of two people being content was disturbing to you and frankly a little offensive. “Unfortunately they’re on separate floors. Is that-”

“We’ll take them,” Jack gruffs. He wants to sleep, wants to die, wants to be in any existence where your soft eyes aren’t glued to the back of his head because he can feel it and he thinks you might burn holes into his skull just to find that he’s hollow inside.

Empty.

The transaction is quick and a little forced. She hands you both your respective key cards wordlessly, and if your eyes had lingered on her just a little longer you would’ve caught her face falling into it’s default relaxed state of misery. Jack walks with you to the elevator in silence, but he’s still close. He’s always close to you. Often you’ll turn your head in an empty room and anticipate him being there just to be sorely disappointed, though you aren’t sure what you’re always so disappointed for. His spirit haunts your thoughts, floats around your body and does laps around your brain because he is always there when you need him, so much so that you expect him to be there when you don’t need him. You want him to always be there. To always be with you.

Strange thoughts to have so late at night.

Jack sets his bag down beside you, stepping forward to press the button for you; it’s such a small gesture, something that he probably didn’t even think to do since hospitality runs in his bones, and yet you noticed it.

Strange.

The door opens, and he wordlessly puts a hand on your back, guiding you towards the elevator in front of him. Letting you on first. You can’t help but smile a little at him; you can tell he’s so tired and yet he still finds it somewhere in his heart to make you feel so important.

“You know I don’t need that from you,” you tease lightly, turning to look at him as the doors drag shut. The elevator shudders around you, indicating that it’s ready to start it’s journey to the fifth floor.

Jack grins at you; it’s not something he’s doing with his voluntary muscles, something that he thinks is coming off muted because he just doesn’t have the energy. It’s something he doesn’t even think about doing, a visceral reaction to hearing your sweet voice like aloe vera on his scorched throat.

“Well then, darlin’, take it anyways just to indulge your favorite cowboy,” he almost begs, lip pouted and eyebrows raised like he’s a child asking for candy except he’s an addict crying for just one more dose before the night ends because the nights he goes home without the memory of your eyes, your smile, your scent in his system are the nights he can’t sleep through.

You giggle softly, nudging his side gently because you want to crush him in your embrace and lift him onto the barbs of feathers into the moonlight all at the same time. To Jack, it feels like you’ve just kneed him in the chest, hogging all his air and wrapping his head in plastic so he can’t breathe, not that he minds. He’d let you tear at the delicate skin of the inside of his wrists, bite into the gentle flesh of his cheeks until he’s on his knees, bleeding at the seams. He’d let you destroy him if you wanted to.

He sighs a little, so dead, as a flush of air enters the vacuum of the elevator; you’ve arrived. But he doesn’t want to leave yet, wants to wring every last drop of your attention out of your pliable bones, so he follows you out and walks you to your room.

“I don’t need this either,” you say, a yawn stretching and blurring the edges of your words.

“I know,” Jack concedes, rolling his eyes in a way that is so adoring that he might as well have kissed you full on the mouth.

Not that you wanted him to.

“I know you don’t need a lick of help from me, sugar. Maybe I just like giving.” He grins down at you again, his side brushing against yours as you place slow, careful steps down the carpeted floor.

Yeah, he likes giving.

He gives you his leftover coffee when he “doesn’t want it” - it’s a tall cup of his favorite brew. He definitely still wants it. He gives you his blazer when you call his desk landline just to tell him your office is cold because you know he’ll give it to you. What you don’t know is that it’s because he’s completely and utterly whipped for you - he’d strip naked in a snowstorm to keep you warm, hold you in an icehouse as the bite of the frost burrows into the cracks of his dried skin, because he doesn’t need clothes when you’re in his arms. That’s about as warm as he’s ever been.

He gives you his time of day - almost all of it. He’s the first person you see when you step into work, the last face you see when you’re ready to retire. He walks you to your office every morning - he had to beg Champ to switch offices with him so that he could be adjacent to you, but every ounce of dignity lost was paid back to him with royalties in the precious extra seconds he gets to spend rubbing his shoulder against yours. He saunters into your office unannounced daily at 12:35 pm sharp to eat lunch with you, flopping onto your couch with the audacity of a man wet with wealth and simultaneously listening to you rave about your day with the patience of a therapist. Your time is a sacred commodity to him, and he makes sure that he’s earned it.

He gives you his whole soul. Sometimes he wonders if you’ll one day open your purse and find his glass heart sitting there, beating hard and loud and only for you. He wonders if you’d pick it up and smash it against a wall. He wouldn’t mind it at all.

The silence hangs in the air, dancing on your breaths as you seem to be inhaling each other, soaking in each other. It’s strange, the moments you share alone with Jack. There are the ones you share late at night, croaking at each other over the phone about how shitty that one show ended or how beautiful blue things are. Blue like his suffocated lungs, like the ocean of tears that drown him when he looks at you, like the finger you’ve got him wrapped around real tight.

But then there’s the moments when you’re in a room full of people. The briefing room sitting at a table spanning the length of the room that’s completely full of people, a club chock full of sweat and neon energy, the lobby of the lavish estate of a target where the bourgeoisie can swarm and stalk each other. All he has to do is toss you a roll of the eyes, a grin, a subtle brush of his hand against yours, and you are instantly thrown into the web of his affection as you get lost and locked in the atmosphere of his presence. Like, even in a room full of people, he’s the only one around. You’re not breathing in oxygen but the hickory fumes of his skin, the only sound getting registered being his dark honey voice. You’re not quite sure how he does that, distorting reality so heavily that you feel like you’ve traversed to an alternate dimension every time he touches you, pays any mind to you. Every single time.

“This you?” Jack asks, his words like a rubber band to your pulse as you’re snapped out of your train of thought. You look up at the room number - room 513 - and then down at your keycard. It reads the same. There’s a dull ache of disappointment that erupts through your chest, beige and static like the chipped paint on the walls.

“Yeah,” you mutter, turning to face him with your back to the door. He smiles at you softly, gentle like his fragile soul that you always manage to make hurt so bad without doing a single thing, and he opens his arms to you. Nothing out of the ordinary; you’ve grown accustomed to his goodbye hugs. “You’re so needy,” you giggle, stepping forward to bury your face in his pillowy chest and letting yourself sink into the quicksand of his warmth. It’s so easy to get caught up in him like a butterfly to a flower, and yet it’s so hard to pull away. He’s always been difficult to separate from; every time it’s like you’re sewing a microfractal of your esse into the velvet of him. Not big enough for you to notice, but still missing, and it adds up every time until there’s a big gaping hole in your chest that Jack holds claim to and the only way you feel right is when he’s with you.

I know, he wants to say to you. I know I’m needy. I know that you’re the only one, the only person, the only fucking thing that I’ve ever wanted this bad. I know I steal your time and your space and your thoughts but I’m a greedy man. Please forgive me. But he doesn’t say that; he could never say that to you. So instead he buries his face into the top of your head, trying to get a big sleepy lungful of you before he parts with you for the night, and says “Can you blame me, baby?”

You look up at him, eyes bleary and red but still eager to be so close to him. “Always such a tease.” He smiles wide at you, like he’s looking at a whimsical sprite so colorful and magnificent, but it’s just you. What does he see when he looks at you?

“G’night, pretty girl,” he coos, arms still wrapped around you and eyes big and doe-y. Please don’t leave yet, my perfect thing. Except that’s the part that stings him the most; you’re not his. He doesn’t get to say that sacred “my.”

“Good night, Jack Daniels,” you whisper, words fanning on his cheeks like waves of heat from a bonfire. But you don’t move, and neither does he. Not yet. Please.

He’s looking down at you with a certain reverence, like you were sculpted by the angels and placed right here in front of him with intimate precision. And then, without a breath to spare, he leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead so light that you wonder if it even happened or if someone has just thrown a marshmallow at your face. A friendly kiss from a friend that you’re friends with.

It feels like the seams of your limbs are being ripped out as you slowly separate from him, flashing him a soft smile as you take your duffel bag and unlock the door in front of you. You step into your hotel room, the air conditioning immediately sticking to your damp skin. As you close the door you catch him still standing there, looking at you like you’re something so precious.

Platonically, of course.

You sigh as you look around the room, suddenly freezing. The tiny dress you’re wearing doesn’t add much insulation and the big diamond necklaces and chandelier earrings and silver cuffs adorning your body like ornaments become ice on your skin. Kicking your shoes off and into a forgotten pit of the room, you step into the bathroom. Flicking the light on, you stare straight at the bulbs, letting the light sear your pupils just so that you can focus on something other than Jack fucking Daniels. Your jewelry is the first to go, becoming a delicate display on the bathroom counter. Something so pretty, but they’ve left angry dents in your skin that are starting to inflame and you figured it was too good to be benign. Nothing so beautiful, nothing that makes you feel so beautiful, could do so without hurting the paper-thin barriers of your heart. You’d have to be a fool to not know that.

You open up your duffel bag, fishing around impatiently until you find your makeup remover and cotton pads. As you erase the paint on your skin, removing the rough mission from the memory of your face, you start beginning to look less disheveled and more exhausted. Now you can really see the dark circles under your eyes, the discomfort of Rolex’s touching the small of your back and Armani cologne grabbing at your hips while you let it happen. Your body had become free real estate and in just hours you had broken down to feeling like you were stained, a dirtier version of yourself that couldn’t ever be cleaned.

You hadn’t felt so filthy when you were in Jack’s arms.

Eager to try and scrape the mission from your lungs, you peel the tight fabric off your body, letting out a breath of something far redder than relief as it falls to a pool around your ankles. You turn around to reach for the shower handle and grip it hard, letting the cold steel fill your palm as you twist it mid-way. While you wait for the steam to seep into your pores you reach for a bar of packaged soap on the bathroom counter, sizing up the créme box. It’s about a centimeter thick, easily filling your palm, and you frown a little at realizing that most of it will be thrown away, unused. Such a waste.

Turning your attention to the water, you run your hand under the water pouring out of the shower nozzle. It’s warm enough. But you don’t want it to be enough. You want it to melt your skin, to burn through your used body and shed your cells to unleash the layers beneath, the layers that Jack had touched, because thinking that your body has been safe inside his embrace feels better than thinking that you put your head in the jaws of the alligators and hoped they wouldn’t snap.

Once the water is burning, sure to inflame your skin, you step in and close the shower curtain before beginning to let the soap glide along your arms. Except it’s not enough. You’re not clean enough. So you run the bar over yourself again and again, wearing it down as your skin turns hot to the touch until you’re using the tips of your fingers to salvage the last bits of product onto your chest. Shit. You don’t even realize that the bar is all used up until you feel the sensation of your fingers rubbing against your now irritated skin and yet you still feel soiled. So you elect to give up on your sorry attempt at washing away the strange eerie touches and predatory looks and turn off the water, drying yourself off.

The solitude in the air stings.

By the time you’re laying in your bed and looking up at the plain off-white ceiling so that you don’t have to look at the old collections of dirt in the crevices of the wall and carpeted floor, you haven’t thought about Jack for the past 30 minutes. Not since you were washing yourself and the ghost of his fingers scraped your scalp, making you long for the feeling of his chest pressed to your back and the sound of his voice floating into the vinyl of the curtain liner while his hands danced in your hair -

Not since then.

But Jack Daniels is most certainly thinking about you, and he’s far too deep to bother pretending that he isn’t anymore.

He stands outside your door for just a little while longer after you close it, staring at the fool’s gold embellishment on the front as he basks in the faint warmth of your spirit that lingers in the space of the hall and inside of his bones. He’s not sure how he got so lucky so as to be able to touch you without abandon, kiss your forehead out of greed and hold you in his arms because he really is so needy. He replays the scent of your dainty floral perfume and rewinds the heat of your forehead under his used, chapped lips, trying to commit you to memory as if he hadn’t done this a million time already, as if he hasn’t tried to burn a million of your hugs into the plush cotton of his skin like a brand. Your fading ghost consumes his mind, and by the time it’s whispering farewell to him, he’s already at the bank of elevators waiting patiently for the doors to open for him. Jack does a lot of that; waiting.

The weight of his duffel bag starts to grow and he can’t tell if his tired left arm is getting weaker or if the bag is getting heavier, but he can tell that his nerves are aching because he already misses you.

He’s always missing you.

The trip to his room is quiet, lonely, and as the elevator doors close for him to make his way to the 6th floor he wonders if this is how it’ll always be. Having you so close, seeing you right in front of him, and yet never truly being with you the way he wants to be. Never belonging to anybody, just a wisp of air passing through your life without holding any true substance or having any real meaning to you; but what a privilege to be one of your wisps. To have been in your lungs and have seen what he imagines are wide open plains, vibrant with wildflowers and gentle beasts. He wishes he could stay.

The elevator door dings.

This time he is caught off guard and he inhales like a shudder, eyes darting around the cold yet damp walkway to see if anyone has caught him thinking, caught him yearning.

Hallucinating.

Deluded.

He steps inside of the compartment with his stupid heavy duffel bag, immediately letting it fall to the elevator floor. His eyes find the plastic, cloudy buttons making up the keypad of the elevator. His left arm lifts to press the “6” button but he immediately regrets it, feeling a searing agony shoot through his shoulder. He mutters a little “fuck” to himself like it’ll help balm the pain, and of course it doesn’t, but Jack is a stubborn man and the buttons are to his left, so he shakes his arm out the way you shake out your boots before stepping inside mama’s house and tries again. But his dry, chapped fingers struggle to reach for the buttons, shaking in his own seismic wake. It takes him a few seconds to steady himself, taking temporary control over his body so he can actually touch the button; the plastic is cracked, a small piece having fallen off to be lost, likely thrown away. A discarded fracture in the shell leaving the inner label forever open and exposed, never to be whole again.

The elevator door shuts.

Jack lets out a low sigh, leaving his arms to fall to his sides as he leans against one of the walls. The back wall of the elevator is reflective, muddled and stained but clear enough that Jack can see what has become of him. His stetson is barely on his head anymore, his tie crooked and his collar untucked. He almost feels like a suit monkey, walking around playing dress up with the caveat of poisoning a man’s fresh champagne. But you told him he looked so handsome all gussied up like a proper gentleman worthy of taking a dime like yourself out. So he leaves it at almost.

He does a lot of that too.

The elevator hiccups, and as expected the doors open, inviting him to leave. He looks down at his duffel bag and he can already feel the weight of it on his weeping muscles, but he’s so close to his room and he can’t give up now that’s he’s made it so far, so he uses the momentum of his swinging right arm to sweep the bag up off the floor and drags himself out of the elevator. Not the best thing he’s ever done, but certainly one of his proudest moments.

The sixth floor is less damp, less like a moldy underwater cave and more like he’s at the top of a breezy mountain where the strands of air are like spurs to his cold, tight skin. Crisp. It is different, and yet he feels the same. Like his joyful warmth has drained out of his system, flushed out of his body, and on the inside he is the 5th floor of a shitty decrepit hotel in the middle of fuck all Kentucky.

He makes quick work of finding his room, the inertia from getting off the elevator being the driving force that gets him down the two hallways and standing before room 645. He pulls out the plastic keycard, adorned with scratches on its surface and stains on its edges, and shoves it into the card reader. With a subtle flash of green and a gentle click, the door gives way for Jack to practically fall inside. He flings the bag as far across the room as his arm will let him, letting gravity control his movements as he is drawn to the white mattress in the center of the room. He releases a groan a little louder than should be appropriate this late at night - he checks the alarm clock on the bedside table to confirm that it’s 11:08. He hasn’t been apart from you for longer than what, 4 minutes? No, he did stand outside your door for a little bit. He decides it’s been 5 minutes.

Oddly enough, the extra sixty seconds don’t make him feel any less fucked.

Now that he’s finally still, his body begins to focus on how sore his legs are as any pain grows from the ends of his limbs and seeps into his chest. He can feel the weight of the night press down heavy on his diaphragm, suffocating him in a way that travels to his eyes and sprays sand like mist onto the walls of his throat. He selfishly lets himself lay there for a second, thinking about that weight being you pressed up against him, face buried in his chest or his neck or in his own face. It’s sacrilegious the way Jack thinks about your touch, the flutter of your lashes like majestic butterfly wings against his cheek, so enticing. So pretty.

His shower is fast despite the way his muscles screech at him to let them rest, begging him to just fucking sit down. When he leans down, back made of creaky burnt red iron, to reach for his sleep clothes, he does a double take; there’s not much in the bag at all. A bunch of small, disguised weapons, communications devices, a pair of grey sweats, a white t-shirt. Nothing oppressively hefty to pull on his tendons; at least, not in a way that could practically drag his shoulder out of its socket. Then suddenly he remembers; he had been holding your bag until you’d both reached the lobby desk. It was a long walk from where you’d been instructed to dump the care and the hotel, so after watching you squirm a little in the freezing air, he offered to take your bag off your back. He’d walked with a bag in each arm for maybe a minute before he realized that his greedy fingers missed being wrapped around your side, missed your melted essence seeping into his stomach, so he’d held both bags in the one left hand for the rest of the thirty minute walk. He hadn’t even noticed how bad he was hurting; perhaps you were too distracting, smile too alluring as your words painted his eyes in lilac and blinded him from his own discomfort.

For being the one person Jack wanted, you sure did hurt him a lot.

Once he is dressed, he lets his sore body absorb into the linen sheets as his muscles finally find some form of permanent relief in the salve of stillness. But this is a dangerous state to be in; when Jack isn’t talking someone else’s ear off, he thinks. He fantasizes, ponders, mulls and muses himself into a state that is suspended between consciousness and sleep.

He thinks about your lips.

You’ve never been too shy to mouth him off, poking and prodding at him and his eccentric cowboy aesthetic. Seeing you walk in every morning and beeline it straight to greet him with a casual fifteen-second hug sends daggers flying into his heart every time, a pain that he’s learned to brace himself for and yet can never seem to be able to handle. And when he looks down at you, adoring eyes and all, he can never help but glance at your lips. It’s always short, a self-indulgent guilty pleasure that he could never admit to, and he thinks about the way they feel against his collarbone when you hold him tight. He thinks about the way they might feel on his own lips.

Sinful.

And then he is thinking about that wretched mission, flashes of luxury clothes and manicured hands trying to feel you up right in front of his eyes. The way you fake smiled at men with money and wrinkles as they leaned into your ear, trying to whisper enticing tales of exorbitant trips to islands that are garishly tropical and dresses so exclusive and designer that no one in the world would own a duplicate. Watching in utter silence because no matter agonizing his need for you is, you’ll never be his.

Suddenly that ache in his body has traveled to his face. It’s so painful to think about you, and yet he takes the jagged edges of his love for you and drags them through his wrists because he’d rather fucking bleed than ever forget you.

Outside his window he hears the clouds crash into each other as an icy downpour beats the pavement. And like a curse, at the expense of his own self-destruction, the image of you in his arms in front of room 513 slices through his brain. Your face right under his mouth, forehead right up against him, your lips right fucking there. And then the feeling of you pulling away. Of you leaving him to rot with the flies, because he’s never going to be strong enough to tell you how bad he needs you, let you tear his heart into a million pieces for good.

From somewhere in his room the rain begins to fall on his face.

people who asked to be tagged: @gustavos @catfishingmorales @keeper0fthestars @1zashreena1 @blancatobarxoxo @honeyedspace @chaotic-noceur @opheliaelysia @adikaofmandalore @din-damn-djarin @ergotautology

people who most certainly did not ask to be tagged sir: @agentpike @damndamer0n @dindjarindiaries @moonglowcarrillo @girlwithanewplan @mrpascals @bunnykjm @maxlordd @buckstaposition @cryptkeepersoul

This is new so I’m putting it down here too, but I made a little form for those of you that want to be added/removed from my taglist (pls take it my tags are very disorganized rn).

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey angst #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels angst #angst #iris writes #iris original #this was supposed to be a cute fic about wanting to kiss ur crush #and now it is #this #wow the mistakes i make

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lemonlushff-iy · 3 years

Note

#4 and 11 for olr please 😊

Oh My God. Number 4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

HNNNNG...Ok.

Chapter 4

"You and your causes," he tsked. "They still make the best damn truck I've ever been in. Doesn't mean I gotta like the man."

"As I recall you don't like a lot of people."

His eyes filled with sorrow and he stuck his hands into his pockets, shrugging.

"Probably 'cause a lotta people don't like me."

"I did," she whispered softly, and he looked away from her.

"You always were the exception to the rule, Kagome. All of 'em."

...

"Why dontcha give it a go?" he prompted, and the engine rumbled to life again. He quickly closed the hood, backing away from the front and walking over to the side. "Sounds like ya should be fine. You got real lucky this time. Don't you start doubting Fords," he smiled weakly, and she returned it.

"I won't."

"Listen," he breathed slowly, nervously. "I...I just want you to take care of yourself. Ok?"

"This sounds a lot like goodbye again, Inuyasha," she mused, and he lowered his gaze.

"Ain't it?"

Was it? Did she want it to be?

"I guess it is…" she whispered, glancing away from him. "Goodbye, Inuyasha. You take care of yourself too. I hope you're happy. Truly. With Kikyo or any of the others. You deserve to be."

She turned her head away from him and pulled her car out of park, shifting the gear into drive. She was about to step on the gas when she felt two clawed hands gently grab her face, pulling it out of the window.

She gasped and her eyes widened in surprise before closing when she felt his lips tenderly press against hers in a soft, lingering kiss before he pulled away. The feel of his lips against hers...it was just as she remembered it. Only she didn't remember this painful aching in her chest when they had kissed in the past...Or this horrible need to grab ahold of his neck to bury her face into his chest and just cry.

"Just wanted to do that one last time," he whispered just loud enough for her to hear, almost as if he were ashamed of himself. Of still wanting her. Of wanting what they once had. What they could have been.

Chapter 17

"You're fine."

"That's not the point," she snapped through gritted teeth, smacking his pectoral.

"Why don't you give me what for on Bessie then?" he grinned cheekily, and she just rolled her eyes, still simmering.

"You think I won't? I'll give you more than what's for. I'll give you a whole fucking dissertation on how big an ass you are."

"Complete with a cover page?"

She went to smack him again, but he just caught her hand and placed a finger over her lips. She tried looking at it, going cross-eyed in the process.

God, she was adorable. And sexy as hell when she was angry.

"Don't wanna wake up the whole town, remember?" he teased, and she glared at him as he removed his index finger.

"I'm not that loud."

He bit his tongue, trying - with great restraint by the way - to not comment.

He failed. Only a little.

"Sure ya ain't," he smirked, offering her a hand as she mounted Bessie.

"I'm not!"

"Ok then."

"Inuyasha!"

He just shook his head and climbed on after her, pulling her flush with his body as he encouraged the mare to start trotting in the direction of the cliffs.

"So...How loud are ya then? I've always wondered."

He could feel her confusion before understanding settled in over her and she began yelling indignantly at him. He didn't really care though. He loved teasing her. Loved seeing her get all huffy and flustered. Ruffling her feathers...He'd missed it.

...

"Kags," he whispered, staring into her eyes. They were filled with so much emotion. Desire. Want. Desperation.

"Yash," she murmured, biting the inside of her lip ever so slightly.

This time neither of them rebuked the name. He didn't want to, and it shook him...and neither did she.

He watched her eyes search his face, looking for something...and he couldn't help but wonder if she would find what it was. He supposed she must have, because her hand gently pulled his head down to hers, and she kissed his forehead. The place between his eyebrows. The tip of his nose.

She pulled away from him, biting her lip in thought.

"I feel like I'm playing a dangerous game," she mused, her words no louder than a whisper. "And I know I should stop, but I can't."

He wanted to ask her what she meant, but the gentle press of her lips against his cleared all of his thoughts from his brain in a matter of milliseconds. It was lighter than the flap of a butterfly’s wing - so faint a part of him wondered if he had imagined it…

But if he had, how come he could still feel her lips? How come the sensation of her kiss still lingered?

"Kagome?" he murmured, his eyes dancing across her face, trying to figure out what was going on with her? What was happening inside that head of hers?

"Just wanted to do that one last time," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear, echoing his same words from that fateful day.

"One last time?" he breathed, his heart lodging itself in his throat. "We seem to have a lot of those, don't we?"

"It's because we keep saying goodbye…"

...When really they should be saying hello.

Chapter 24

Oh god…

She was telling Inuyasha to do this, wasn’t she? She was giving him all these signals that she wanted him and now he had gone and wrecked everything and—

“Ladies...maybe you should take a step back from this...”

“No. There’s no need for that, Hojo. I’m leaving. She got what she wanted...and I...I won’t begrudge you of doing whatever the hell this was, but I want to make something clear. I’m going back to California, so whatever the hell Inuyasha did...It wasn’t for me, and he knows that.”

She picked up the bag of alcohol on the counter, holding her head as high as she could, and walked towards the exit.

“I hate you, Kagome Higurashi. I wish you never came back!”

She paused, her hand on the door, and turned to look at Kikyo.

“And I pity you, Kikyo...Waiting years to make a move on a man? You should have just taken what you wanted long before now.”

Chapter 25

“Did you ever think about it? Over the last seven years?”

Her heart broke at his strained tone. Like he was afraid of her answer, but needed to know all the same.

“Think about what…”

“Come on Kags,” he sighed in frustration. “You really need me to spell it out?”

“I…”

“Us,” he replied crisply. “What it could have been like if...Things had been different. If we hadn’t been scared, stupid kids who were more understanding.”

She swallowed back her anger at the implication that he could really believe that she could wrap them up so neatly and bury their past away in the back of her heart.

“Yes. I thought of us. Every time Garth Brooks comes on the radio or I look at a can of Budweiser...I can’t eat a pancake anymore without thinking of the times you would sleepover at our house. I can’t look at a man with amber eyes without seeing yours for just a split second. Every new moon, I wonder how you’re holding up. I never stopped paying attention to the cycle because it made me feel a little closer to you, and I can’t…”

She paused, taking a deep shuddering breath before turning to face him, making sure she held his gaze as she poured her heart out and reopened old wounds.

“And I can’t think of home without thinking of you. What happened between us haunted me and I wondered what it would be like if we had been different. I wish things had been different. You were my world. The only man I ever truly had feelings for, and sometimes...Yeah. Sometimes I wonder where we would be now if...If things had been different, and we hadn’t…”

She sighed, shaking her head.

“It doesn’t matter now though.”

“Don’t it?”

His whispered words were so quiet, if she hadn’t been looking at him, she might have thought that she hadn’t heard it.

“If you could...Could have a second chance at it all...Would you take it?”

Her throat was closing up. It was hard to swallow. She wished she knew what he was thinking, but she could see how scared he was. He was terrified of her answer, because she knew that he was asking himself the same damn thing. Had probably been asking it for a while, and she knew he had his answer.

But hers…

Hers scared the shit out of him, because he knew what he wanted her to say, but the possibility that she wouldn’t...What then? What would happen to them then? Once she said it, there was no way to unring that bell.

So she had to be sure.

But the thing was…

She didn’t even have to think about it. She knew the second he asked what she wanted to say. So, she mustered up what confidence she had, and looked him right in his scared, desperate, pleading eyes so there would be no mistaking her when she replied.

“Wouldn’t you?”

As for 11: What do you like best about this fic....

I like that it has so much of ME in it. I never knew how passionate I would become about this one when I started writing it, but I’ve never felt this way about a story before. It’s just so healing for me on so many levels...and it’s allowed me to pour so many feelings I’ve felt about different things over the years into a story. There’s no jilted lover in my past...No Inuyasha...But there is a lot of pain and loss and I think this has been a way for me to release some of that from within my soul. @clearwillow had NO idea what she was doing when she drew that picture, but I’m forever grateful to her for it. I never thought I’d be this into writing a western rancher fic since I know NOTHING about that, AND YET.....

Thanks for the ask @liz8080!!

Writer asks

#liz8080 #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyashafanfic #inuyasha #inukag #DAMNIT CARRA #Ode to Carra #Clearwillow #rancher #cattle rancher #western #romance #angst #one last ride #lemonlushff

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years

Text

@lovelydivs i tried (insert star)

1274 words

“I mean, I will start coming to Walmart just to retrieve my peace of mind… so many aisles, and the best thing is, the only thing I can’t seem to find is Wheelys. Which is weird, right? I understand when a product completely dies, but like… I’m dead sure I saw Wheelys the other day at that gas station…”

You walked, almost lulled by his never-ending chatter, and your eyes were wandering around the shelves. So much food. So many different types of candy, and Kai needed them all. The brighter the package, the better. He was a smart man – but his knowledge in sweets and Walmart product was really incredible. You’ve been in this small town of Dublin, in Ohio, for four days, and he already learned every aisle, every stall, and all the check-out ladies’ names. You prayed silently that he wouldn’t turn into a coupon king one day.

He shook your hand lightly, attracting your fleeting attention.

“Babe, are you listening?”

“Yeah”, you uttered, a lazy smile stretching your lips. “But I’m pretty tired of just walking around. Let’s load you with this trash and go. I will never understand how you manage to entertain yourself by wandering here like in a museum”.

His eyes glistened with delight as you approached a tall stall covered with jelly beans like with bright-colored leaves. Poison, all of it. Nobody needs forty different types of candy.

Kai always forgot to take the trolley at the entrance, so every time you two had to put all these packs into your pockets, and then unload them at the checkout, like shoplifters caught. The worst thing was when you bought ice cream. With Kai’s pace of walking, it managed to start melting every damn time.

“Okay then, I’ll go to the toilet, and we can go”, he nodded mercifully, watching your cringing face as he flapped a pack of air heads.

“Strawberry?” you asked.

“Blue raspberry”.

“Kai, there’s no such thing as a blue raspberry… this is so unnatural”, you whined.

“You’re being unreasonable. Okay, wait for me here”, and he sprinted away like a twelve-year-old kid with strings instead of legs. Walmart was his realm. This dude could consume it all, together with people.

You sighed, looking at the loads and loads of candy that filled your mouth with sour saliva. Putting your hands in the pockets of your jacket, you started walking slowly, trying to get what he was seeing here. You were always more of a soda girl; while he was chewing on gum and jelly bears, that never ended up gluing his jaws together, you were consuming liters of Dr Pepper, until your teeth screeched with sugar. It was sweet, almost painful, bright pink, this life, eating candy and kissing Kai with sugary tongue.

Reality was, big places like Walmart gave you anxiety. There was too much of everything, and you realized, suddenly, why Parker liked it so much. A thousand cans of beans, slightly different in shape, in one stall? Fifty colorful plastic packets to wrap around your face and suffocate? Three hundred shades of diapers, different type for girls and boys? The never-shutting, loud, obnoxious advertising following you wherever you went, nowhere to hide from items, objects, labels, sounds, packages and QR codes. That was him. That was his personality. He could be too loud, he could be too needy sometimes. And you definitely could not escape him, no matter how hard you tried. The rare moments when his hand let go of yours, your palm felt cold and unusual. The moment his constant chatter stopped, silence was piercing your brain like a needle. He was addictive, like all that bright blue artificial honeyed sugar.

It’s been about five minutes, and you decided you’ve had enough of watching cucumbers slowly rot in their stall. You looked around, but did not notice the familiar black armful of hair, or his blue jean jacket. The cold air from the refrigerator soothed your shoulders as you took out your phone and tried calling him. Nothing, his phone was dead already. This morning you fought over the charger; you forgot yours at the last motel you’d been staying in, and the quarrel was heated. But you won because you weren’t wearing pants. So, your phone was currently on one hundred percent battery, and his died in sufferings.

Whatever, since this specific Walmart is almost his own land, he’ll be able to find you in no time. Maybe he’ll sniff you out before you go wild looking at the thick, maroon beef tenderloin, awful pictures springing to your mind.

You moved further, into the court of pastry. Now, that was good stuff. It smelled good, and there was garlic bread somewhere. Your pockets were already full of Kai’s Jolly Ranchers, so you put a couple of baguettes under your arm and stood there. Bread, that’s the shit. Bread is cool.

It’s been another ten minutes until you got to the house maintenance department and stared at all the cleaning stuff. There was a red row, a blue row and an orange row. You’d like your bathroom to smell like apples? Take the green one. You want it to have a faint scent of a Japanese garden? Put a pink bottle up your ass and vomit it onto the floor.

You closed your eyes, diving into the comforting darkness of your lids. There was a Beyonce’s song on, something from the times when everybody was wearing their damn pants right where their pubic hair ended. Just when you almost recognized which one had the lyrics “matter of fact, he’ll be here in a minute”, the song was suddenly interrupted, and a hollow voice came down, crashing on people’s heads in between stalls.

“Y/N Y/L/N, your child is at register 10”.

You opened your eyes as a wave of rage flooded you over: like hell you knew where that register was!?

You walked across the whole place, navigating yourself badly by the huge signs which didn’t help much. Finally, you found yourself at the registers, and as you walked to the huge check-out desk with the red TEN, you saw Kai, sitting on the bench, prepped against the wall. His arms were crossed, and he was pouting, with the most childish look his boyish face was capable of, like it was him who’s just spent the worst twenty minutes in capitalistic hell.

He looked up at you, and his eyes narrowed:

“You’ve been buying bread without me?”

You sighed, outstretching a hand to get him up.

“I told you to wait for me at the candy place”, he mumbled. You put your hand in his hair and ruffled it a little bit, calming yourself.

“This place pisses me off”, you poked him with a baguette, and he took it from you, carrying it like a sword.

“Doesn’t mean you gotta run off and leave me alone”, he reproached, “didn’t even call”.

“Your phone’s dead, Kai”, you reminded him.

“Ah”, Parker’s face lit up a little bit, and you walked to the check-out desk. The lady was smiling at you two, what an adorable couple. A mum-girlfriend, and a capricious pretty boy. That was until you started unloading your pockets like two complete dumbasses. You took out a can of Dr Pepper out of your inner pocket, and felt Kai’s clothes through to make sure he didn’t leave anything in.

“Do you need uh- a bag?” the lady asked.

“Oh my God, Karen, why do you hate your planet so much?” Kai gave her a meaningful look. He took your hand again. The badge on her chest read “Olive”.

#kai parker x reader #kai parker imagine #kai parker #tvd #imagine

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sanchoyo · 4 years

Note

Looks like you’re gonna have to gush some more cuz I meant in general uwu🌸

🌺😌🤟 Always happy to! Okay here’s just some General bnha Thoughts ™ Mostly Lov centric. You asked for them, and you said GUSH about them, so here’s. A Lot! :)

This isn’t a lov one but it’s really funny so I thought I’d put it out there:

-when bnha was first gaining traction on tumblr, it was all art of Tsuyu. I have no idea why. People were talking about the funky frog lesbian superhero anime. Maybe it was just the people I was following, maybe it was a general trend, but I LOVED her design!!! my fav color and frogs r super cute!!! And I already loved superhero media, so I was like. I’ll watch it. For Her. SO. FROPPY IS THE REASON I WATCHED/READ BNHA. I went in thinking she was the protag and I was sooo confused when Izuku was... tbh I still think it’d be more interesting if she was lmaooo aus where? ...seriously if anyone has good aus where this is the case send them LOL

-I don’t actually feel that bad abt what Shigaraki’s doing. I still feel bad for him. I’m this post. yes im an apologist. its not my fault hes sexy and has been running around shirtless. hes a lesbian icon like thor is. I want to touch his hair. hes never done anything wrong in his life. he could kill all might, deku, bakugo, whatever, I’d still be sayin this. I don’t feel bad for gt. like. was anyone genuinely attached to him? lmao

-well u know how spinner’s quirk is just sticking to things? We haven’t seen him use it in canon except like, (1) time iirc?? I think this is probably bc he’s embarrassed about it even in front of the league... I loooove the idea that he gets more comfortable with it around them :”) and also how shigaraki. um. does that falling asleep thing while standing up with his eyes open, canonly? (which I still love lmfao) Imagine someone in the league walking in a dark room, turning on the light n just seeing. Spinner upside down, stuck to the ceiling asleep bc heat rises and its Warmer Up There. (cold blooded thing like tsuyu?? come ON give him a big fuzzy coat and scarf...) and Shigaraki in the center of the room, slouched but still standing, eyes open and motionless. Theyre both sleeping. Whomever sees it just...slowly walks out. LMAO

-Toga roller derby au. No deep thoughts I just think she’d be good at it.

-Toga 100% is a social butterfly and could befriend anyone if they didn’t just judge the fact she was trying to stab them smh :/ (ok but seriously anytime I see cute friendships with her n the other kids im like :) aw. I feel like her and Camie...would be good friends. Camie feels chill enough to be like ‘ok whatever thats totally fine I forgive you!!’ LMAO we love airheads here)

-HOW DID TOGA GET SO GOOD AT FIGHTING? We know she’s been on the run since middle school or so, but good enough to pin Deku down after he’s been formally trained at a ~hero school~ for a while? (she pinned him TWICE I think, once when his arms were messed up, but, the other time as Camie, so? AND THEN WAS ONE OF THE 100 PEOPLE TO GO THRU TO THE 2ND ROUND OF THAT? even tho she didn’t bc she had to leave) good enough to beat Aizawa in a fight and stab him? A professional hero and teacher for YEARS? Is that seriously just street training??? Can people acknowledge how amazing her combat skills and reflexes are??? More Toga appreciation when?? Also her backstory??? SO subversive and incredible, hate when people reduce her to just a ~typical anime yandere~ :/

-Tomura doing stuff with his hands/fingers to train his quirk!!! And to learn to be careful with it!! obv I’m a Big Fan of him playing piano to do this and video games are prob the canon answer, but like, guitar or any stringed instrument that requires Hands would work too. Or knitting/sewing? EMBROIDERING? ??? Please, let me give you the mental image of him knitting aggressively while mentally scheming, watching a twitch streamer or smth too while doing it. (Doing stuff with your hands is a great way to let your mind come up with creative stuff, that’s how I come up with writing/drawing ideas 70% of the time)

-Tomura actually PREFERS cutesty, relaxing games. I mean, he does fighting and bloody stuff irl, games are a way to relax...he’ll play shooters and gta type games with The Lads, but. on his own?? animal crossing. pokemon. kirby games. mario. zelda. BIG ZELDA FAN (not saying this bc I, personally, am biased, but,) slime rancher, stardew valley, funny simulator games... he really enjoys those :”) God forbid he has a kid bc they’re 100% getting named after a viddy game character unless someone can talk him out of it LOL. Toga and Tomura are that animal crossing /doom meme where she’d be asking for doom and him asking for animal crossing :”)

-Bits and pieces of Before are kinda stuck in Kurogiri’s brain, but like. mostly useless stuff the doctor didn’t care about removing. Like, types of clouds. So Tomura kinda picks up on stuff like that. He can just look at clouds and tell you what type they are because Kurogiri used to take him up to high places in the city and point them out to calm Tomura down from a panic attack when he was younger. He can tell you if the sky looks like it’ll rain with a 80% accuracy rate too.

-Kurogiri left food out for kitties in the alley beside the bar. They weren’t allowed in for Health Reasons (it IS a bar with sanitation standards!!) And Tomura really wouldn’t stop it or encourage it either way so long as Kurogiri did his job, but occasionally would stand outside with Kurogiri and just watch the kitties from a distance. If any approached he’d go back in (lowkey afraid he’d hurt them by touching them :( ) They kinda kept that between them tho, bc they both Know AFO is a big bag of dicks and no fun

-people have pointed out how similar aizawa and tomura look. this was 100% the intention. tomura has a hatecrush on him. THIS IS SO FUNNY AND HORRIBLY AWKWARD FOR KUROGIRI LMAO

-Sako??? Mr. Dramatic?? Opera fan. Drama kid. Like, obviously, but. Really. He is. I feel like he can speak a dozen languages. I also feel like he used to be an overachiever but got too ambitious. He was def some kind of leader at one point of a diff Group or something that fell apart. I LOVE how creative he is with his quirk and the magician theme??? incredible. I don’t show him enough love but I Love Clowns :o)

-I don’t care what their canon heights are. Spinner and Dabi? short kings. My height hcs are (tallest to shortest) Kurogiri, Twice, Sako (who also has heels on his boots and a tall hat, keep in mind), Tomura, Magne (Tomura and Magne are about the same height imo) Toga, Spinner, Dabi. LISTEN. Dabi has short energy. Sorry. it’s true tho

-This is a semi-popular hc I think bc I KNOW I’ve seen it before, but Dabi having Terrible Vision and needing glasses is so so good. (seriously, with burns THAT close to his eyeballs, how could he not?)

-he tries to be a tough loner coolguy. you’d think he’d smoke, but I hc his ‘weak constitution’ comes with weak lungs (esp from years of a flame quirk?? inhaling smoke over so much time is SO bad for you, most people who die in fires actually die of smoke inhalation...) so he’s got like, an inhaler, can’t smoke, actually gets carsick, needs glasses, overuses quirk to save friends constantly, likes napping, a little awkward and rude. Tomura put him in charge of the vanguard so he’s smart, and good with strategies too, like a nerd. this is the Dabi I wanna see, not the popular fandom version of him tbh also step on hawks one more time sir :”)

-I wish all the lov fics weren’t?? villain!deku like I said earlier, but also, chatfics? I have nothing against them but most of them are just a bombardment of Memes with NO PLOT!!! Listen. text/chatfics CAN have plot and be an interesting way to tell a story. I almost want to write one just to show what I mean...

I know I’ve said I like spinaraki and blackmagic, but I am a multishipper, so a few ships I don’t talk about that I like that involve the lov in some way:

-toga/any of the 1A girls??? or Camie??? super interesting. ALSO in the radio drama, bakugo’s voice actor said Toga was his favorite girl??? so?? bakugo/toga ?? I WANT TO SEE IT. but specifically my fav dynamic with her is when someone ELSE is the one to like her first, it’s what she deserves.

-Kurogiri/aizawa/mic?? any variety of that is also 👌🏻 I also kinda wanna see kurogiri/all might bc. Dads. COME ON. they bond over ‘well, I raised him, and you want to have a part in his life now?? ok. earn it. prove it. I’ll screen you first’ or something LMAO they’re both genuinely concerned for the boy, and SOOO biased. let them bond.

-WAIT WHERE IS THE MIC/COMPRESS CONTENT. THEYRE BOTH DRAMATIC. ENEMIES TO LOVERS?? HELLO??? SOMEONE?? ANYONE. rarepair hours

-giran/twice is cute. like he was hyping him up so much and so ready to go save him...

-dabi/magne where is the content. when. why not everywhere??? I’ve also seen magne/compress which was cute!! or twice/magne? they’re the big sibs of the lov...

-dabi/spinner?? come ON dabi could get over his learned biases and spend time with him and they could hold hands. I want them to.

-dabihawks. Obviously bc the Drama. yes even still, don’t @ me. (also, shigahawks, seen some REAL interesting fics with it tbh) or spinahawks?? adding hawks to a ship is like adding extra chili powder. makes it SPICY dramatic)

-nine/tomura don’t @ me once again. both kinda afo’s playthings, nine obviously was the test for tomura’s new upgrades...they both love their friends...That Scene in the Flower field </3 hmmm tragicships are fun.

-tomura/mirko. more enemies to lovers. big fan of her and bunnies. remember when he wore bunny ears in bnha smash. (ok its crack but. CUTE.)

-I’ve also seen shiganatsu and shigafuyu and I’m like. these are cute, but also Dabi’s reaction always makes me cry laugh. so good.

-MOST EVERYONE IN THE LOV IS LGBTQA+!!! heres my personal headcanons:

Toga: pan or bi (CANON BASICALLY)

Magne: transwoman (CANON BABEY) bi, leans towards men. (her crush on dabi in bnha smash... uwu content where)

Shuichi: gets sooooo flustered canonly, I think he’d go for the first person Who Hit On Him (I can see him being the target of those mean pranks where someone says ‘my friend likes you!!’ and the friend is like ‘eww!!’ :(((( ) he’s super hesitant for romance, lots of repressed stuff. gay but takes sooo long to realize it bc he thinks most women are conventionally pretty Aesthethically, feels obligated to Like Them, but has bad self esteem so never goes after them, then only likes (1) guy so hes like?? is this allowed?? is this allowed???? (HES LIKE. IN LOVE WITH SHIGARAKI)

Dabi: bi but rly hasn’t ever gotten to date anyone, so he’s actually more reserved about it and while he’ll tease, he absolutely is absent and kinda oblivious (again, I KNOWWWW bnha smash isnt canon, but. my god. when magne is hitting on him and he Just Doesnt Understand.) also hes ace

Tomura: doesn’t care. (just prob says ‘its whatever’) trans/nonbinary (i’M NOT PROJECTING, BUT. :’/) probably goes with like, the label queer if any but doesn’t care much for labels

Kurogiri: bi??? kind of??? I say kind of bc well, I hc U Know Whom as bi, I feel like thatd carry over but he’d be really avoidant to date anyone bc hes gotta Watch His Kid u know? this is gonna sound surprising but I think he’d be the type to be like ‘ok we can have a one night stand/fling BUT it cant get personal bc I have a Job to Do for my Son so don’t get up in your feelings’ and act a little coldly at first or very ..not personable... depending on who it was he’d prob turn around eventually, esp if that person valued his feelings/job :”)

Sako: that mans Not Straight. I hc him as gay and also trans :3c

Twice: Bi and HAS dated prob more than anyone else in the league imo, super comfortable with his sexuality and supportive of everyone else’s :)

ok that’s about all I can think of atm, come back in 5 minutes and my brain will refill with lov headcanons :3 thank you for asking!!

#bnha manga spoilers #bnha #sanchoyoanswersasks #league of villains #lov #i am NOt tagging all of them im so sorry its Too Much #but ask to tag #for triggers #if anyone needs them tagged #?#long post #word wall #bananaapplewaffle #im pretty amicable to most ships n stuff and love rare/crack ships lmao #also if anyone has their own headcanons #and wants to share #feel free!#love hearin them too

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vminity21 · 4 years

Text

Reparation | kth [Sneak Peek]

Pairing: PoliceOfficer!Taehyung x PrivateConsultant!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k (currently)

Genre: suspense/thriller/angst/smut/fluff

Inspired by: the book The Twin by Natasha Preston, basically a fanfiction of a fiction except with different scenarios

Warning(s): language use, mention of crime/death, mention of mental institution, angst, smut, mention of infidelity, stalking

Summary: As a Private Investigator with the rarity of consulting with the police force, you strive to sleuth any possible situation you can in order to find healing for your clients; and, with the help of your best friend, Kim Taehyung, the pair of you are a force to be reckoned with. When Jaehyun, the son of the chief of police, calls in desperation to save his girlfriend he claims has been wrongfully accused of strange incidents, you can’t seem to shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right. Little do you know, you are about to uncover the scariest crime you have ever encountered in your entire career, .... well, if the one truly guilty will let you get away with it first.

The slap of a manila folder hits the black table that sits daintily outside of a coffee shop before the sound of a skidding chair accepts the brisk flop of you taking a seat. The immediate arrival of the folder created a tiny gust of wind causing the nervous woman before you to jump slightly before her shoulders relax at the realization that it is you.

“Couldn’t be a bit more inconspicuous? God, you scared me,”

“I apologize, Mrs. Gwan,” Lifting your sunglasses to rest upon the top of your head, the wind picks up enough to cause the slight curls of your hair to tickle your cheeks. Mrs. Gwan waves a hand to dismiss your apology,

“Did you confirm my suspicions or not?” She hardly is wanting to make eye contact, but you know she is itching enough to know what information you have uncovered, even though the news, unfortunately, isn’t good. Swiping your tongue over your lips, you inhale quickly,

“I have. Now Mrs. Gwan I must warn you-”

“I don’t care. I’m ready to see that filthy bastard.”

Reluctantly, with pressed lips, you spin the folder closer to Mrs. Gwan, opening the first page to reveal the first out of many pictures you were able to snag of her unfaithful husband with his arm curled around the waist of a young brunette wearing a tight red dress heading into the building of a well-known bar centered in the city of Daegu. Her fingertips spread over the photo, mouth ajar as she stares at it, flipping through each one, anger welling in her focused gaze.

“Mrs.-” Her hand stops you- shaking her head as if to rid of any words she is wanting to say, but refrains, rather, she turns to dig into her purse for the check she now gestures in your direction, “Here’s the money I owe you,” hesitant, though pity resonates from your umber irises, you take it,

“Mrs. Gwan, I am so sorry,”

“You’re not the one who needs to be sorry.” Her sad eyes watch you for a minute as she tries to collect her words, but nothing forms. Holding up an index finger, you swiftly pull a card from your clutch, sliding it face up to her as her eyebrows scrunch.

“Monnie Min is the finest divorce lawyer I know,” you confidently pin the card with your finger until Mrs. Gwan flickers her gape between the card and your gentle grin in mere surprise. “And, you bet she’s going to make sure your husband is buried alive for his infidelity,”

One thing that you will say about being a private investigator is sometimes seeing that glimmer of hope in your client’s eyes despite having to be the bearer of bad news is the reason you know this was your calling from the beginning. “Thank you,” she murmurs, gripping the card in determination before giving a quick bow in goodbye. You watch until her frame blurs into the distance before compiling the contents back into the folder; you sigh in relief, squeezing your eyes shut before sliding your sunglasses back over your vision. “Another day, another success,” you proudly state, turning on a heel to trek to your car.

The next destination set in your path involves a place where your face is highly familiar amongst the officers of the law, but most definitely not in a negative way. Igniting the engine of your vehicle, you carefully back out of the parking spot and turn in the direction of the police station. Though some find it strange, you always keep it silent within your car due to the swarm of thoughts you have muddled across your brain which is what your best friends like to tease you about regarding your musical boundaries. Apparently, you have to ‘quiet’ the music in order to see while driving, though you swear up and down that you enjoy music in your downtime. Other cases are still in the process of being solved, though the main conflict you deal with are affairs, hence why your best friend Monnie comes into view because she handles the end of it all with fighting for the person who has been wronged in their marriage. The pair of you make the perfect team, and if clients aren’t completely healed from their situation, that’s when you and Monnie recommend your other mutual friend, LenLen Lee, who is a psychologist that works at a local high school but also takes sessions on weekends to work with other patients not related to the younger generation. As complex as each of your job fields can be, it is always nice to try different things to keep the routine from being completely the same.

Another reason why the police force is a huge fan of yours, or at least, your long-time friend, Kim Taehyung though you will never admit it or draw attention, but as many times as your friends have said it, you are the number one recommended in your field, yet you try to keep your identity on the down-low for safety precautions. Assisting criminal investigations have been rare, but something you agree to help with when they are stuck finding evidence to deem a culprit guilty. Reading people is your specialty which ignites how you proceed with any investigation, but sometimes people in all different work environments make mistakes even if it is something they can’t afford.

“Ah, miss [Y/N], welcome back! Couldn’t get enough of us, huh,” Jung Hoseok, the officer behind the front desk muses while you flash him a silly grin once entering the building.

“If I heard correctly from the whispers on the street, you bafoons can’t seem to get enough of me. Is Taehyung in?”

Hoseok lazily points toward the sea of desks hiding up the same hallway you cross when you visit, “Where you always find him,”

“Don’t know what I’d do without you, Officer! Thanks!” You turn enough to salute at Hoseok, him shaking his head at you playfully before you disappear to the immense number of testosterone either deeply concentrated on the screens of their electronics or throwing crumpled straw wrappers at each other when boredom strikes. And, what do you know, boredom strikes- Officer Park Jimin, hops to sit on a desk whilst attempting to throw what looks to be a wrapper to a mini chocolate bar at a fellow co-worker, grinning ear to ear before your gaze travels to the fluffy dark hair hunched in front of a computer screen. Files are sprawled with slews of colorful sticky notes to the point the top of his desk doesn’t look as if it exists leading you to raise an amused eyebrow.

Leaning against the doorway, you study the view before you, mumbled conversations are taking place, but attention is diverted enough to not notice your arrival. The faint smell of coffee wafts past your nostrils though your dear friend, who is dazed at whatever information he is scrolling through can only tolerate the liquid he deems as poison. The black uniform tugs nicely to his figure, the scuff of his shoe slides as he leans back in his seat, tapping his slim fingers in rhythm to a gallop on an extremely thick folder off to his right.

Clearing your throat, Taehyung jolts in his chair, whipping his head around with widened eyes that are partially shaded by the thick curls spread upon his forehead. “Scaring people must be my specialty today,” you ploy, hearing the gentle snickers of Officer Jimin who happened to witness the moment. Arms that were previously crossed, loosen to your sides while you walk closer to where Taehyung’s desk resides, your clutch still grasped in your hand.

“You have quite the tendency to sneak up on people, have you not heard the gossip?” Taehyung immediately stands to his feet to offer his swiveling chair that has comfortable cushioning compared to the wooden chairs set off to the side. Poking his ribcage, you collapse into the seat, eyes watching Taehyung as he slides his hands into his pockets, looking behind him briskly before leaning against his desk.

“No, I am not aware of how often I become a meddling kid, but if the town must talk, let them talk,”

“I’m pretty sure the talk of the town is for you to join our team,” voice belonging to Jimin, he rounds to stand beside Taehyung, popping a jolly rancher into his mouth while flattery blooms to your expression.

“By the talk of the town, you mean here where I am currently located,” you gesture around you, Jimin flashing you an incredulous look while the sound of the hard candy hits against his teeth.

“Do you not know how many stations want to take you on? Some of our best private detectives even want you to assist them. C’mon [Y/N], you know you’re meant for this,”

“The honor is hard to reject, but I told you guys, it’s not a good idea,” your elbows dig into the armrests, posing your fingertips together before interlacing them.

“Do I need to remind you of the cases you’ve helped us break? Do you not recall the young girl whose uncle we were able to convict because you got him to confess?”

“Ah,” Taehyung nods once, “She was a missing persons- scene alluded that she may have known her kidnapper, being her car door was wide open, not to mention the items she left behind that were important to her,”

Moving your fingers to press to your lips, your eyes are zoned, “Or, the shoe,” you murmur, “her shoe she left behind indicated she lost it while running,” Or, from fighting the person she thought she could trust.

“It was only two years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday,” Jimin folds his arms across his chest, his lips dimming down at the memory.

“I just remember he said something that others would have brushed off, but for me, it just didn’t settle,” there was a Search team, you being one of the many volunteers, scoping the forest behind the parents’ country home, and when the uncle appeared to be nauseous on top of the statement he muttered, you paused in sheer horror at the realization of what you overwhelmingly pieced together.

“Settle is an understatement. You nearly punched the guy!” Jimin raises his eyebrows, rocking on his heels with how impressed he still is.

Shaking your head, a breathy laugh escapes your grin, “I would have done much worse if Taehyung hadn’t held me back,” you share a look with him as his petal lips grow into a smile, “All I know, is I am glad we brought her home to her parents. Alive,” LenLen was able to coach the girl through some rough times, recommending coping mechanisms to help her get past the traumatic experience she had as much as she could. Now, the girl and her mother are a part of a group who helps individuals who have gone through something similar- making a change in the world somehow, also talking about safety and that if anyone is hurting you in any way to reach out to someone who can help get you out of the situation.

“You mean you brought her home to her parents alive,” the gentle nature warmed in the eyes of both Jimin and Taehyung moves your heart, and you turn your head to avoid it. Deep down, solving crime and bringing down the bad guys is your passion, but a year ago something changed, and only Taehyung and your best friends outside of the police station know exactly what happened no matter how much you outwardly deny it.

“Well,” you slap the arms of the chair with your palms before grabbing your clutch from your lap to then hoisting yourself to your feet, shimmying the wrinkles from your pantsuit, “tracking down the disloyal is more of my cup of tea,” it’s a partial lie, but you wince when you can tell both men see right through you, yet you flash them a pointed look, “So, word of advice, don’t ever cheat on your significant other while I’m around because I will catch you in the act,” giving Jimin a quick boop to his nose, he scrunches his smiling face in reaction.

“Your confidence is astounding,”

“And may it always be,” you wink, effortlessly twirling on your boot heel to almost slam into a very broad chest. Eyes expanding mingled with the slight leap of your heartbeat, your gaze trails to the face of Kim Namjoon, Chief of Police, a face you always try to dodge when visiting your favorite male specimens. Panic courses through your veins in hopes that he didn’t hear the statement you just said, your eyes darting anywhere but Namjoon’s gaze as he awkwardly clears his throat. Yeah, he heard what you said.

“Hello, [Y/N]. Heard you were potentially considering taking the position we offered you here?” Namjoon’s demeanor as a leader is the utmost professional in ways you’ve never been able to equate. Especially when there was a time you knew him as the Namjoon who loved you at home, zipping from his leadership role and letting loose, finally letting the uptightness funnel down into peace. Sometimes, you miss Namjoon, but then you remind yourself-

“Potentially,” you say rather quickly, quite breathless which is not what you wanted to go for but here you are, and there he is, and there is Jimin and Taehyung, watching the uncomfortably tense scene without any popcorn to enjoy.

With a curt nod and a taut grin revealing his dimples, Namjoon places his hands behind his back and bows, “Well, we all really hope you have a decision soon. There are many opportunities awaiting.” His eyes shift from you to the men paused behind you, “Gentlemen.” And with that, Namjoon walks away, burying himself in the piles of papers he has pining for him in his office. Though your grin doesn’t reach your eyes, you look over your shoulder a fraction enough to see your friends who have yet to scatter, prompting you to throw a quick wave before scurrying out of the building.

Heels clicking onto the sidewalk, the bright sun gives your vision a moment to adjust, and you could kick yourself for leaving your sunglasses in your car. When a large hand lightly touches your back, you nearly squeal.

“Relax! Relax, it’s just me,” Taehyung holds his free hand out as if to steady you.

“Oh, I guess you’re out to take my specialty away from me, huh,” it’s the small, short laugh he does that makes you happy to hear especially when unwanted memories tend to overpower anything else you’d rather think about. “Chief is letting you escape?”

“It’s my lunchbreak,” Taehyung shrugs, “Figured that’s what you were doing as of right now,”

Eyeing him suspiciously with your mouth slightly ajar, you retort, “And what if I have more important matters to attend to?”

“Ouch,” he pats his large hand roughly to his chest, “Honestly, not sure what or who could be more important than me, but I guess,” he looks at his watch, “I can make my time more efficient without being your designated chauffer.”

“Wah!” You scoff, smacking his arm lightly, only to snatch the eyes of an elderly woman who is nearly appalled in thinking you were about to get arrested for ‘assaulting’ an officer as Hoseok would have referred it to. Smiling inelegantly at her, the lady scampers off leaving a chuckling Taehyung. “Oh, don’t get too amused, I’ll make you regret that statement.”

“You started it,” he leans in place a sweet kiss to your temple, your heart skipping immediately at the feel of the gesture, “Now c’mon, I could hear your stomach growling all the way in the office.”

Perks of having a close relationship with the police force is getting to ride in the passenger seat of their cars. Namjoon gave permission for you to be allowed inside them unless they were called to something serious. Otherwise, he wanted you in your own personal vehicle for your protection away from anyone they may have to arrest. Watching the pedestrians zoom past the car window, Taehyung leaves the music thudding just enough to fill the silence. You wonder what he could be thinking about, especially with the run in with Namjoon earlier. A buzz from your cellphone distracts you momentarily, unbuckling your clutch to retrieve the device, you peer at the screen to see it’s from Monnie.

Mo [12:30pm]: Just got off the phone with another one of your clients! I swear I want to take all the credit for my business, but surely, I have you to thank. Bringing me all the coins like you do, I might have to reconsider my marriage with Yoongi, and marry you instead ;P

Smiling to yourself, you notice Taehyung glancing at you curiously, yet keeping a steady focus on the road.

You [12:32pm]: …typing Oh please, he is the top detective at his station, more like the entire country, I’m sure his coins are as deep as the ocean compared to my holey pockets. Send.

“Let me guess. Another accomplishment you can add to the already numerous notches on your belt,” Taehyung’s deep voice serenades your ears enough to snap your gaze from your phone to take in the sight of his boxy smile.

“An accomplishment that I can share amongst my pals,” you confess, shifting slightly in the seat to ease your muscles. “I know you fuss at me about not giving myself enough credit, but you know you do the same thing.” Taehyung licks his lips as he always does- a prominent habit you noticed from day one when he entered your life. “You’ve solved so many cases just from your insane discoveries on evidence that has been overlooked. I may be a good people reader, but you tune into little details in the surroundings that I wouldn’t have even seen.”

“Hence why me and some of the rookies butt heads sometimes. There’s just some cases they rule out so fast, yet I’m doubting everything about the scene in general.” Tae runs a quick hand through his hair, “Especially deaths that appear to be accidents or even, suicides. I just-” he pauses, turning carefully into the parking lot of you and his most favorite restaurant, “I always have to be sure.”

“Hence why you deserve to be chief,” you mutter, though the tinge of bitterness causes you to flinch at yourself.

“And, you deserve to be a part of our station,” Taehyung parks the car, letting the air condition run, “Your faith in me is quite strong I’ll give you that. But, don’t pretend like I don’t know why you won’t accept the job the Chief offered you.”

You rub at your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out an unwanted memory, “It was- it was a year ago. He only offered me the job of a lifetime to make me forgive him faster.”

Sadness clouds Taehyung’s eyes, because it bothers him that you’re still hurt, “[Y/N], it still doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve-”

“I couldn’t read him,” you swallow at the lump in your throat, “He was who I thought I was meant to be with and then…” You trail off, humiliation budding in red over your chest. “I caught him in bed with another woman. And, if I couldn’t read him then what’s the risk of me reading someone else incorrectly?”

“You couldn’t have known, sometimes shit happens,”

“Not to us,” you want to believe that everything happens for a reason, and inwardly within the deep crevices of your heart, you do. Gentle fingertips reach for the back of your hand in comfort.

“I also know that’s why you’re so determined on catching cheaters. You’re still angry,”

“I am,” you exhale softly, “But, mostly at myself.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I know beef bulgogi will make you feel better.”

Though bravery can sometimes be your strong suit, when it comes to Taehyung, those nervous jitters that soar through your limbs like to try and get the best of you, “Or, you,” you whisper, him already out of the police car with no knowledge of what you just said. Once seated inside the restaurant, the bustle of many voices mingled with clinking silverware perk your eardrums enough to distract you, rattling off your drink order as well as your typical entrée, not giving Taehyung time to speak.

Smirking at his attempt of a playful glare, you almost miss the vibration of your cellphone signaling a call, “Oh, sorry I probably should-” Confusion shows in the immediate scrunch of your eyebrows prompting Taehyung to freeze in evident concern.

“[Y/N]? You alright? Is it another case?”

The name glowing on your screen is one you would have never expected not since… the breakup.

Before Taehyung can repeat your name, concern obvious in his expression, you meet his stare,

“It’s Jaehyun,” you whisper, “Namjoon’s son.”

#btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #kim taehyung #taehyung suspense #taehyung fic #taehyung one shot #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts one shot #bts taehyung #bts kim taehyung #taehyung thriller

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fontofmercy-archived · 5 years

Text

Understanding BvS’s Lex Luthor: CSA and Repressed Homosexuality

(Re-posted with minor revisions after I moved accounts and accidentally deleted this post)

Lex’s motivations are quite explicit in BvS, he has a whole speech explaining why he is doing what he’s doing and what he says is consistently shown throughout his screentime. But I think there is a lot unspoken beneath the surface that most people wouldn’t think of, based on my observations I think that BvS’s Lex was molested by his father and that he’s sexually attracted to Clark, and that his issues with Superman partially stem from the duality of desiring Clark and being afraid of him. That may sound strange, especially the csa bit, but hear me out because there is quite a bit of evidence and it may give you a clearer perspective on the character.

NOTE: I just want to clarify that it is not at all my intention to equate homosexuality with CSA nor demonize CSA survivors, I’m simply observing this particular character who happens to be a villain. Lex being attracted to Clark doesn’t make him villainous, the way he deals with it because of trauma and internalized homophobia is the problem.

1.) Daddy’s Abominations?

“No man in the sky intervened when I was a boy to save me from daddy’s fists and abominations!”

This is quite self-explanatory, Lex just said that his father sexually abused him. The only other possible interpretation I could think of is a more general ‘my dad made me evil because he was evil’ but that’s a really weak explanation especially since the line is equated with the trauma of being beaten by his dad and the way he is very visibly triggered saying that line. When he finishes “abominations” he immediately flinches away from Superman and shakes his hand in front of his face as if desperately trying to erase what he just confessed.

2.) Lolita + Alice in Wonderland

“Plain Lo in the morning, Lola is slacks -“

“Late, late says the white rabbit”

Lolita and Alice in Wonderland...those are interesting choices of literature for a supervillain to quote. You’d think something more threatening and/or pretentious would be an obvious choice for a traditional mastermind-type supervillain rather than two obscure (not very masculine) classics that only have one thing in common: themes of sexual obsession and pedophilia.

Lolita is the story of a pedophile who uses his power as a step-father to groom and sexually abuse a child. Alice in Wonderland, while not having explicit pedophilic content, was written by a suspected pedophile and is obsessively focused on a child that there are photographs of the author kissing on the mouth. These are the two novels Lex relates to enough to quote them casually off the top of his head.

3.) The “it’s cherry” scene

So this is obviously a sexual innuendo but the question is, why this guy? This character is utterly unimportant on his own and this doesn’t affect anything plot-wise which means this action is entirely about characterizing Lex. What are they trying to communicate here? This guy represents a figure similar to Lex’s father, an older businessman who behaved as if he had authority over Lex, and Lex’s instinct to that is to assert dominance in a sexually suggestive manner. This establishes Lex as a character who uses sexuality to dominate and make others uncomfortable, and relates it to a man who who represents his father.

4.) Two Versions Of The Same Scene

Lex caressing Zod’s face directly parallels him caressing around Clark’s face, even the framing is identical. I think these are two versions of Lex confronting Superman, one with the actual Superman where he has to keep his distance and put on a callous front, and the other with a Kryptonian corpse he can project Superman onto. The scene with Zod I think shows how Lex truly feels about Clark. “You flew too close to the sun” he’s saying this and crying as he’s creating a monster to kill Clark which makes me think those words were not for Zod but the god he feels he has to kill. There’s no reason for Lex to cry for Zod, Lex has no relationship with him, it’s much more coherent that this scene is using Zod’s body as a substitute for what Lex can’t express to the real Superman.

EDIT: Upon rewatch I noticed a small moment where the Jolly Rancher Dude (I don’t think he has a name lol?) says with a smile “You want Zod’s body?” and Lex goes “Okay”, it’s a very playful interaction and it I think strengthens the connection between Zod’s body being an implied sex symbol of Superman.

4.5.) The Sexual Tension In The Rooftop Scene

Every moment of the rooftop scene (and all of this film) is so multilayered and intense, I could talk about it for hours but I want to talk a little more about the moment in the above gif.

Seconds before this, Lex was wagging his fingers inches for Superman’s glowing laser eyes but now when he knows Clark isn’t going to attack him, he won’t touch him? Lex is less afraid of having his fingers burned off than he is to touch Clark’s head knowing that he won’t do anything. Because Lex would be happy if Superman burned him, that would prove him right and give him an easy category to put Clark in but letting himself touch Clark in an ‘affectionate’ manner is terrifying.

A straight male villain that just wanted to use physical contact to assert dominance over the hero would have touched Clark here (and also would have no reason to caress Zod’s dead body) but Lex can’t even though he’s literally trembling with desire to and we know for a fact he’s not afraid of invading Clark’s personal space in an even more physically dangerous moment.

5.) The Dual Realities Of An Abused Child

“If God is all good then he cannot be all powerful.”

Now, I’m not an expert in psychology but I will do my best to articulate this. When someone, especially a child, is abused by someone they love it creates an extreme paradox in their mind. They love this person and they have to trust them but they also have to fear them, their brains are forced to compartmentalize when this person is a threat vs when they are a protector. In some cases, like Lex’s, this can lead to someone entirely thinking in absolutes and dualities.

It’s a consistent theme in Lex’s dialogue that he thinks in absolutes. The cornerstone of his ideology is people have to be “all good” or “all powerful” when really no one is either, there arguably is no such thing as either.

It’s also a theme that he has dual views of people in his life, the most prominent being his father and Superman. In one scene he’s reminiscing about wishing his dad would come back, in another he’s emotionally describing the abuse he inflicted. And Lex does the same with Clark as explained in point 4.

Lex even seems to have a dual view of himself. In the rooftop scene he points to himself as “the evil in the world” but his speech about Prometheus at the party is clearly meant to illustrate that he sees himself as a misunderstood savior of humanity (this is even confirmed in the bonus material).

6.) Internalized Homophobia

“I don’t hate the sinner, I hate the sin.”

Two things are important to me with this line. First is that it reinforces point 5 but also this is a very, very common phrase in homophobic rhetoric so for him to say this and gesture to Clark’s body as the “sin” has implications. And yes, yes, I know he meant that Clark’s powers are a sin but things can have double meanings and I sincerely doubt that anyone making a movie in the western world’s current political climate wouldn’t realize that phrase is strongly linked to homophobia.

To elaborate on how it reinforces 5: Lex is openly saying that he doesn’t hate Clark, he just hates his power, which brings us back to the idea of an abuse victim’s dual reality. It’s Clark’s power that is the threat to him but he can still love Clark, same way his father’s abuse was a threat but he can still love his father. Note: Lex calls Clark “my friend” and “Clark Joe” and similar affectionate names throughout their interactions which I think suggests that Lex sees Clark as partially a person.

7.) Conclusion

DCEU’s Lex Luthor was a fresh, contemporary take on the character so it was a jarring difference from the Lex we’ve seen in other recent mainstream media. I also think it was upsetting partially because it took away Lex as a male power fantasy; a buff, suave billionaire who’s hyper masculine and doesn’t let anything get to him including his canonical abuse. Now we’ve got this definitely charming and silver-tongued but effeminate and deeply traumatized Lex that I think is much, much more dynamic and compelling (and definitely fits this universe) but was uncomfortable for people that were attached to the charecter as a male power fantasy.

Nevertheless we need more villains like this. That can be both intimidating and vulnerable, that are human and offer a real ideological opposition to the hero. BvS could not have been the story it is without this Lex. BvS is a brilliant and nuanced film about how fear and trauma affects people’s worldviews, which is an important thing to explore when you have a Superhero that is the embodiment of hope. It’s important to show that not everyone can have hope so easily and to humanize those people.

Anyways this post is really long and I could literally talk for days about DCEU and this film especially so thanks for reading, please be respectful in the notes.

#dc #pro dceu #dceu positivity #bvs positivity #batman v superman #dc meta #my meta #lex luthor #lex luthor jr #clex #clark x lex #txt #my post

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whumpologist · 4 years

Text

Finly part two of my Hawaii five-0 fan fiction. Took a while but I hope you'll enjoy it

Two men continue to shove me, and I am unable to see where I am. I hear a door open and I'm forced inside. I do my best to struggle against the men but to no avail, eventually I find my self hanging from a ceiling, my hands in restraints. When the hood is removed the first thing I see is steve, strapped to a metal chair in front of me.

"Danny" he says defeated.

"What the he-" a fist is thrown into my stomach and I struggle to breath.

"You see steve they've been doing it all wrong. Its not you they should be torturing but rather those you care about, that's the trick, that's your weakness."

Wo fats voice fills the room, and a distaste fills my mouth.

"So here's how this is going to go. I'm going to ask you the questions and your going answer, and if you don't." With a motion of his hand a huge guy walks up to me and I prepare for what's to come. He thrusts his fist into my rib cage and then twice into my stomach. I wheeze, gasping for air. My legs give way and the chains cut through my wrists, and a warm thick fluid starts to run down my wrist.

"Stop. Please stop. Listen to me, please. I don't know who or what prisoner 726 is okay. I don't know."

Wo fat sighs "that's not the answer I'm looking for."

"No, plea-oof" again the man starts beating me. The punches are sharp and calculated, each sucking the air from my lungs. He doesn't stop, punches land on my rib cage, my stomach and my kidneys. I do my best to breath but its becoming harder with each blow.

"C'mon steve you don't really expect me to believe that do you?" Wo fat says after the man finally let's up.

"As you know steve, a beating is just one method of torture, and we have all the time in the world." He snaps, and the big guy leaves the room.

I can't help but chuckle. , "y'know" I say after catching my breath. "I've watched a lot a movies but I've never seen something more cliche then what I just witnessed"

Wo fat laughs and then throws a fist into my kidney. Probably not the best thing to say when your chained to the ceiling, but I just couldn't help it..

Wo fat pulls out a pocket knife and walks towards me, I try to inch away but the chains hold me in place. He silently, almost with care, cuts off my shirt, and takes off my tie. My tie. My blue tie with the little yellow dots, the one grace gave me for Father's Day. When the door opens again I turn to see the big man walk in holding what looks like a black police baton.

"Have you ever seen a rancher use a cattle prod?"

My eyes widen as I realize what he's holding

"Cows can be pretty stubborn, takes a real jolt to get them moving. Must hurt." He turns to me "You'll have to let me know."

And with that, he jams the prod into my side. I scream, the pain is like nothing I've experienced before, and nothing I want to experience again. My muscles contract and my hands curl up into fists. I can feel the metal prongs burning a hole into my skin, while electricity surges through my arms and torso. I notice steve turn his head away, unable to watch the pain I'm in. But the big man walks over and grabs him my the hair forcing him to watch. I continue to scream, and when wo fat finally lifts the prod, he motions and the big man walks back to me and starts throwing punches. I do my best to take each of them in, but my breathing becomes labored and I keep losing my footing causing the chains to rip into my wrists even more.

" this can stop whenever you want it to steve." Wo fat says in between blows. "Just tell me about prisoner 726"

I rack my brain to figure out who this prisoner 726 is, but I'm drawing a blank. So I make something up.

"Prisoner 726" I say

Wo fat walks over. "You know who they are?"

Oh yeah I know all about him."

"Tell me everything."

"Sure, sure. Just get this guy off me."

Wo fat motion's and the man moves away.

"Go on."

"He, he's a secret agent, he drives clients around" I say doing my best to keep from being beaten.

"His name is Josh," I continue "and the shmuck is the worst uber driver ever. Guy would not stop talking, just babbled on and on and on. He definitely got a one star from me. If you see him tell him I want a refund"

Wo fat laughs, and another wave of pain shoots through me as he jams the prod into my stomach. I scream. In retrospect the comment probably wasn't the best idea.

"Listen to me, what makes you think I know this guy?" Steve asks.

"Because he's under five-0 jurisdiction. Has been for years."

What the hell is he talking about. Whoever this guy is, Wo fat clearly has false information on them.

"What are you talking about?" Steve says, just as confused as I am.

Wo fat just shakes his head, and once again the prod is thrown into my side. I scream and the smell of burning flesh fills my nostrils. My burning flesh. Electricity surges through my body and before I even know it every thing goes black. When I regain consciousness I'm wet and I realize that Wo fat must have thrown water on me to wake me up. I watch him leave the room, and when he returns he's holding a whip in his hand. I let my head drop, not wanting go through what I know is about to happen.

"Wo fat listen to me please. He doesn't have want you want. Just let him go. Hurt me, please just hurt me."

It was so like steve to be like that. To want to take the hit, the fall. To want to put himself in harm's way to protect others. But I knew that wasn't going to be the case. I knew that the pain I was about to go through would be mine and mine alone.

Wo fat positions himself.

"Oh God" I start to say. Wo fat brings the whip down across my lower back, the pain is sharp and sudden, a blinding sting that vibrates down my back and into my legs. I can't even let out a scream before another slash crosses my back, this time across my left shoulder blade. I can feel blood start to drip down my back. Wo fat doesn't stop. Each slash cuts deep into my skin, all carefully calculated, so that they don't hit the same spot but rather all over my back. The pain is so excruciating that my legs give way and I go limp. Wo fat splashes me with another bucket of water.

"Steve?" I say in desperation

"Danny?"

"Steve, It hurts, it hurts so much. Oh God it hurts." Another slash crosses my back, this time its right down the spine. Again. Steve looks away, simply unable to watch the pain I'm in.

"You know what?" Wo fat says "Maybe you don't know, maybe you really are clueless. Or maybe, well maybe I need to take it a step further"

With that, Wo fat pulls out a gun and presses the barel to my temple. I close my eyes.

"No!" Steve screams.

Bang.

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