#i've been bottling up this hot take for 20 years

[bettsfic]

listen. padme amidala is a freak, okay. ever since aotc i’ve had to listen to bullshit arguments about how awful the prequel romance is, how anakin’s a red flag, blah blah blah. that’s a smooth brain take. first of all, of course he’s a red flag. that’s the point. you think padme doesn’t know anakin is ten pounds of mommy issues in a five pound bag? you think she looked at soggy weeping anakin begging her to love him and didn’t immediately think “yes i definitely will peg him” ?? you think just because she’s a queen turned senator that she isn’t just as horny and feral as he is? anakin wasn’t even pushy about it. he was just “oh btw i’ve been obsessed with you for a decade and live in a perpetual state of emotional agony but thats okay whatever you want is fine with me haha” and padme goes “yea okay i’m into that.” two minutes after he’s assigned to be her bodyguard she gives an obligatory little “i have a bad feeling about this” and then just fucking marries him. this is a woman who wore white to a blood bath. come on.

#i've been bottling up this hot take for 20 years #sw prequels #anidala #pt

[petermorwood]

Potato Crisps / Chips on Tasting History

So we've just watched Max's latest...

...and I was grinning a bit because I posted about Dr Kitchiner's 1817 (non-US, definitely non-Saratoga) crisps / chips recipe a month ago.

That image was from an American edition of his book; I've found a pic from the original - NB that these slices are floured before frying.

For reference, here's a two-penny piece from about 1797; the coin would still be current 20 years later:

...and here's how thick the potatoes should be sliced. That's 4mm, which is 2mm less than "a quarter of an inch" (6.25mm).

The slices will get even thinner as their moisture evaporates during frying, and, given the nature of recipes, potatoes cooked this way are probably even older than 1817 and Kitchiner's is just the first appearance found so far in print.

*****

The first recipe for "Game Chips" (an accompaniment to grouse, pheasant etc.) appeared, per the Wikipedia link, in a 1903 book published by famous chef Auguste Escoffier (1846-1935):

"Chip potatoes - these are potatoes cut into thin slices; this is usually done with a special plane. (A mandoline.) They are put in cold water for 10 minutes; then drained, dried in a cloth and fried until very crunchy. They are served hot or cold and generally accompany game roasted in the English style."

However, per Escoffier's Wikipedia page, much of his work was based on that of Anton Carême (1783-1833), whose dates are squarely coincident with Dr Kitchiner's Potato Slices.

Given the amount of cookery to-and-fro between England and France after the Napoleonic wars were over, it's impossible to say who first came up with the idea of potato crisps.

The French loved dainties - "un petit quelquechose", a little something - which the English pronounced and dismissed as "kickshaws", something over-fussy yet insubstantial. Yet those same English also loved roasting things with their appropriate accompaniments.

(I'm writing this just over a week after Christmas, and have been well reminded that the phrase "Roast (turkey / goose / beef) With All The Trimmings" is still in common 21st-century use.)

If those roasted things were game birds, only those above a certain level in society would be eating them, so it's not unreasonable to assume a rich-person game bird would attract fussy, time-consuming rich-person trimmings like, okay, Game Chips.

One thing's for sure, Potato Crisps - and Game Chips too, so hard luck, Escoffier - are almost certainly older than even Tasting History could prove.

*****

BTW, they also existed at a time when "English Food Was Bland" is more fake history.

Sauces put out on the table in fancy bottles had fancy labels ("bottle tickets") showing what was in them, and the contents were often far from bland.

Quin sauce was anchovy-based, hot and pungent.

Harvey's was a spicy sauce similar to Worcestershire, ketchup was probably mushroom and also spicy; the other two need no elaboration.

AFAIK the two crescent-shaped ones in the next pics are deliberate imitations of an officer's rank-gorget.

Finally a generic Not-Bland label that would go on any number of modern bottles (antique silver, yours for £250)...

*****

And after all of the above, I could do Very Bad Things to a packet of Tayto Cheese 'n' Onion. A packet?

Why stop at a packet when A Pack takes less time to say?

After all, It Is Written that:

"Reading One Book Is Like Eating One Potato Crisp Chip."

And also that Nothing Exceeds Like Excess...

#food and drink #potato crisps #game chips #Tasting History with Max Miller #Diane Duane #Reading one book is like... #...like eating one potato chip #wise words maxims and apothegms #Youtube

[somethingswift19]

Who? JJ Maybank x Tattooed (f) Reader

| Warnings: mentions of abuse, swearing, over protective JJ (mildly), alternative reader

| Summary: JJ noticed your medusa tattoo for the first time. All characters are in their 20s in this

| (a/n): I don't know how I feel about this ending. But I hope y'all enjoy!

You weren't like the others on Kildare Island. Technically you were a kook like Kie, but also like Kie you were a pouge through and through. Your dad was ex military and now worked for the local prison while your mom owned the only tattoo shop in the county. Due to this, your family tended to stand out which also meant you lacked in the friends department. That was until you met Kiara.

You and Kie had been inseparable since you met at the kook academy your freshman year. Neither of you wanted to be there but were forced by your mothers to attend. For her 16th birthday present, the two of you even got matching dolphin tattoos. Then when Sarah came along it became the three of you.

This led you to now. You were a 23 year old bartender at The Wreck, Kie's family restaurant, and the two of you had just gotten off shift. Running to the back you threw on your black "I <3 Hot Dads" hoodie, jean shorts, and red high top vans before throwing your messy, curly hair up into a bun. "Hey (y/n), are you ready?" your best friend yelled from the doorway.

"Yeah I'm coming!" grabbing your backpack, you followed her out. You had plans to meet the boys at the beach for a bonfire tonight after work. You had only met them a few times, and all of said times a certain blonde had caught your attention. Getting in the car you got settled but Kie didn't stop staring. "Can I help you?" you laughed.

"Oh no. Just wondering if you were gonna spend the whole night drooling over JJ again and not make a move like last time," she shrugged. Rolling your eyes you told her to just go.

Grabbing the beer out of the back, the two of you made your way towards the beach. "Hey girlies!" the familiar voice of Sarah Cameron rang out. "We were beginning to wonder when the two of you were showing up!"

"Blame the one who had to get ready before we came here," Kiara side eyed you before all three of you began to laugh.

"Listen! Is it a crime to want to look half way decent for my two besties other friends? I mean gotta make a good impression right?" you continued laughing.

"Yeah right. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that JJ is here tonight," Sarah teased you causing you to lightly hit her in the arm as the three of you headed down to the sand. After reaching the firepit you got settled onto the soft sand sitting crisscross applesauce. "Where's Pope?"

"He had homework for his fancy college program," the blonde boy you had been looking forward to seeing all night responded as he sat down next to you and handed you a beer. Nodding your head you took a swig out of the bottle you had been handed. The other three in the group were busy talking about something Sarah's brother did when JJ leaned over and broke the silence between the two of you. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look like anyone I've ever seen around here." You gave him a funny look before he quickly added, "Like it's a good thing! It's cute! Just very different!"

A blush formed on your freckled cheeks, "Thank you...I Think." He was right though. You had long curly black hair with tiny bits of green throughout, both sides of your nose pierced along with your septum, and both ears pierced all the way up. Not to mention the tattoos. Yet you still had a sweetness or "innocence" to you.

"You're welcome!" he smiled proudly to himself for causing the pink tinge. "Now tell me about your tattoos!"

"Well what do you wanna know?" You inquired. The two of you being so wrapped up in your own conversation to realize the other three had left you two alone.

"Well for starters, how many do you have?" genuine curiosity was shown on his face. You fascinated him. "I mean I can see you have your traditional patchwork leg done here, but do you have any more?"

"Well," you began. "I have my leg sleeve (of course), then I also have a full arm sleeve, and one down my side. And then a secret one that matches Sarah and Kie's." you smirked before beginning to giggle when he looked astonished.

"We are gonna circle back to the mystery tattoos later!" the blonde boy exclaimed. "But can I see your sleeve?" You nodded with a hint of reluctance only because of one tattoo. You took off your hoodie so you were only in your tank top. JJ began examining all of the colorful pieces you had but quickly stopped when he saw the medusa adorning your upper arm. His face went from curious and playful to stern. "Who?"

"It's really not important," fixated on the fire you really were hoping to not have this conversation yet. You were always cold but the hoodies also helped keep that hidden.

"You can talk to me," his blue eyes softened. He didn't want to push you but wanted to at least offer. "My dad...he used to beat the shit out of me. I used to blame myself. Would convince myself that I deserved it somehow. My fiends helped snap me out of that."

The two of you sat there in silence for several minutes before you brought yourself to open up, "It was my ex. He had a hard time taking no for an answer." JJ didn't say anything but just let you confide in him. "But before that, I went through something similar to you. My dad was an angry guy. I remember showing up to school with black eyes and having to have my friends cover for me. Then when I was 16, things got particularly bad. He slapped me so hard I fell down and he stormed out. Said 'He should have left me and my bitch of a mom a long time ago'...he came back the next morning in tears and never laid a hand on me since. So then when my ex did what he did, it just brought out suppressed memories."

JJ immediately brought you into a hug while wiping a tear off your cheek, "I am so sorry." You looked up into his beautiful baby blue eyes when the two of you leaned in. He kissed you so gently and tasted so sweet you thought you were in heaven. That was until he whispered onto your lips "So what are these secret tattoos the three of you girls share?" Laughing you buried your face into his chest.

"It's so embarrassing," you blushed as he started to chuckle right when the other three showed back up from what looked like swimming. "Oh! Just in time! (y/n) here was just about to enlighten me on these secret tattoos of yours!"

"Don't do it!" and "She was not!" were said in unison by other two.

"Come on guys we should tell them," you smiled and you all three agreed. "Ok, so just know the three of this did this to celebrate graduating high school. We were young and dumb."

"Oh this is gonna be good," John B mumbled.

"We all have a different fruit," Sarah continued.

"On each of our asses," Kiara finished. The two boys burst out laughing.

"Are you being for real?" John B asked. "I mean I knew about yours Sarah, but all three of you?" he couldn't hold back the laughter anymore.

JJ leaned over and whispered just to you, "I can't wait to see what yours is." Causing you to once again turn bright red. You knew you were in trouble with this boy when he just smirked down and kissed you again saying, "You're too damn cute when you blush like that."

#jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj x y/n #jj outerbanks #jj maybank #obx #outer banks #john b routledge #sarah cameron #kiara carrera #obx fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #jj obx imagine #obx fic #jj imagine #rafe cameron

[holyghostbelle]

STEVE HARRINGTON MUST DIE:FOUR

Its been a year since someone spread a rumour to you school that you've sucked off half the football team in one night. one year of catcalls, one year of graffitied lockers and bullying, so when you find out his majesty king Steve is behind the rumour its time to take drastic action against him. warnings!:drug use, kissing, blood, the use of the word slut King!Steve x reader chapter three master list

CHAPTER FOUR: Sometime in early may

You fling the door open. Bottle of vodka in your hand, bag over your shoulder, you peer down at Steve who has his hands in his pocket.

“Do i-”

“Yeah you look, great” Steve answers immediately. 

You smile, “-need a coat?”

‘Oh um no you're fine” Steve scratches the back of his neck as you follow him down the steps to his burgundy BMW. The ride is quiet but you feel his gaze against you on the road. You pull up to the hagen household, the house is big, it's almost overwhelming, contemporary, black wooden slanting walls feel nightmarish. You feel Steve's hand on the small of your back and you follow him up the steps, he doesn't bother to knock, instead opening the door and shouting, “HERE!”,after a beat he assumes they're all in the garden. You follow him into the sleek kitchen, he grabs two glasses out letting you pour vodka in both before adding cola. You take a sip of the drink, it's strong and burns the back of your mouth, but you're used to it. He grabs your arm and pulls you into the back garden.

There's a hot tub and a small swimming pool, they sit by the lit open fire, six of the chairs are taken up leaving small plush rattan that you could barely call a sofa. Steve basically throws himself into the chair and you squish yourself into the side of him he stretches his arm behind your body and pulls your waist close to his body, your eyes widen and Carol notices. 

“What are you prude?” she laughs. 

Steve takes a sip of his drink watching you intensely “No! I've sucked like 20 cocks, remember?” you smile, chewing on your spit. Steve chokes, and Billy slaps his knee and laughs. Nicole glares at you.

“Huh, Steve was right! You are funny, why haven't we hung out this whole time?” Carol asks.

“Oh, probably because you're a bunch of assholes?” you suck your bottom lip in and release it, Steve gives you a look and you laugh “im kidding”

“Oh haha, yeah I got that! well Steve definitely an upgrade from you last girlfriend” 

You feel him tense, “ I brought weed, if anyone wants it?” you smile, pulling out two pre rolled joints, you shake the ziplock bag, “puff puff pass?” the group nods and you light the first joint, breathing it in twice before passing it to your left, Nicole. She chokes on the smoke and you hand her a drink smiling. 

“How did you meet Eddie?” Laurie asks.

“I was in detention for calling Mr Smith a cunt and then they nearly caught us smoking weed on school grounds so that kinda cemented our friendship.”

“I thought you two were like, dating for ages,” Laurie laughs, she has the joint now, she takes one long drag and passes it to Steve.

“Oh! Same, I think you would be good together!”

“Oh god no, he's pretty in love with the bartender at the hideaway, i mean we kissed once but it was horrible”

“You get into the hideaway?” Steve scoffs. 

You turn to him “yeah our band plays there so no I.D! '' You breathe in the thick smoke of the joint as he blows it into your face, almost a nod to last Friday.

He hands you the joint and you do the same, leaning into your hand, elbow pressed against your thigh, you feel his eyes on you, you pass the joint back to Nicole who shakes her hand a ‘no’ Billy grabbing it instead. 

“Who wants to go swimming?” Hagen humours.

You assume the girls hadn't already changed into their swimsuits as they head in the house, you watch the boys strip off their clothes and follow. Steve drinks in your curves, clad in an all black two piece swimsuit, you bend over to shove your clothes in your back, taking out a cigarette you light it quickly, Steve turns to you “ can i have one?” you nod, take a puff and then choose to slot your cigarette in between his lips, you grab another pressing it against your lips, you look at him , grabbing his chin and pushing your cigarette against his. You breathe in and watch it spark, Steve fixes his eyes on your lips and you pull apart. 

You sit next to the pool with your drink, feet dangling in the water, it's cool against your skin in the summer night's heat, and Steve settles beside you. 

“Why do you hang around with them?” you ask. 

“What do you mean?"

“They're kinda assholes, i'm pretty sure carol wants to sleep with billy and laurie hates me because she's into you” you reply, you kick the water with your feet and watch it ripple.

“She's not into me”

“Oh steve” you pat his bare shoulder “give her a wink and watch her blush” 

He eyes you up and down, his cigarette hangs loosely between his teeth. 

“Okay”, he looks towards the door and your eyes follow, Laurie appears in a bright pink one piece swimsuit, Steve grins at her and winks and you watch her push her hair back and smile, and then she looks at you and it fades suddenly. 

“Damn two birds with one stone, I told you!” you sing out. 

“She doesn't like me”

You look at him scoffing, you're caught off guard as he pushes you in the pool, head dunking straight under, you immediately surface the water, hands pushing your hair and water off your face. You look at him angry as he just laughs. 

“Dick” you splash him. He flinches as the water hits his skin.

“Hey! Watch the hair”

You swim over to the edge of the pool, reaching your hand out over asking to be helped out the pool.He gives in hand clasping yours but before he knows it, you're using all your force to pull him into the water with all your force. He hits that water, chlorine splashing in your face,he pulls up for air, arms hitting the water to splash you, you hide against your arms smiling, throwing yourself onto his body to push him under the water. 

He grabs onto your waist and pulls you under with him, you kick at the water, both of you emerging, You gasp for air still in his grasp. His eyes trace your face, his breath fanning across your face, a droplet of water catches a loose  hair and drops on to your forehead

And you have to remind yourself what he's really doing but it's too late because you're already letting him kiss you, his hand against the nape of your neck in your soaking wet hair and you thumb at his cheek as he pushes his mouth closer to yours, his hand grasps at your leg under the water, you wrap it around his hip and pull him closer, snaking an arm around his neck, water drips down your face, catching in your eyelashes, you feel his teeth bash against yours as he licks into your mouth, you would almost be disgusted with yourself if it didn't feel this good, you feel him smile into the kiss as you part, eyes raw with chlorine, he stares at you with half lidded eyelashes, you pant against him. 

He brushes your hair back from your skin as you light the second joint, you're practically smothered underneath his big fluffy white  towel as if you had forgotten your own. The others are still in the hot tub and it's about nine in the evening, the sun begins to set. 

“ I do have other friends, you know.” he states.

“ I believe that” you nod at him

“It's Eddie, he's my friend” his hands raise, palms facing the sky and you drink him, his eyes are closed, as he lays bare back against the grass.

“You're not friends with Eddie." you cock your head to the side.

“Yeah I am, we talk, he comes to my parties.”

“To sell weed”you speak bluntly, the joint hangs out of your mouth and he grabs it, inhaling the drug.

“Hey! i asked him for advice the other day” he wags his finger at you, leaning back down on the grass.

Your lips part, intrigued. “What advice?”you ask, you shift slightly on the grass, the bright white towel falling to the left slightly.

He pulls himself up on his elbow  readjusting the towel for you “about this girl i like, she's pretty cool, kinda hates me” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he smiles coyly at you. “ Well if she hates you, why do you like her ?” he smiles at you hand grasping at your cheek, you down at him, his eyes staring at your own, and ass you move into kiss him. 

“SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN”your head flicks to the side to catch the words Tommy just shouted, you groan and Steve laughs, pulling you up from the grass as you both head inside.

Taglist: (crossed out pls turn tags one or ill remove you) :@paleidiot @joonies-word @officerrrfriendly @ravenhellfire86 @littlebookworm86 @tr4sh-mouth @genesis-p4l-love @brother-lauren@keerysfolklore@person-005 @soapiaa @roundoudou @cherrymedicine13 @m3tallica69 @poppet05 @supraveng @comeonatmebruh @totally-bogus-timelady @bingsbitch

#st5 #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things but not strange #steve harrington #stranger things #king steve x reader #eddie munson

[ericaand]

I Saw It On TV

Characters: Eddie Munson x olderfem!reader

Summary: Eddie needed to return something, and you confess that you've been watching him, watching you.

Word Count: 1800+

Warnings: Smut (minors, DNI, please), pnv (unprotected), oral. And a little fluff thrown in, you shouldn't have to squint too hard.

A/N: Um, this is my first (and maybe last) smut. I'm not sure if it's good, bad, ugly, etc. Considering this is my first, feedback would be extremely helpful if you're willing. I feel like I shouldn't have to preface this but, it is the internet after all. Hate won't be tolerated, however constructive criticism is appreciated.

MASTERLIST

You inhale a large puff of your cigarette and lift your foot behind you to drag the cherry across the bottom of your heel.

"You know, I've been watching you, Munson." You exhale your smoke. "And I know you've been watching me."

"Listen, Ms. Y/L/N - "

"Eddie, please. I'm not that much older than you, and I'm NOT my mother. You know my name."

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry, Y/N. Listen, I...I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I know I shouldn't but - "

You take a step forward and look into his eyes, dragging your hand from his shoulder down to his hand, taking the hammer he's returning. "Hey, it's okay. I actually think it's kinda hot." You shrug and smirk.

Eddie's mouth falls open as he looks anywhere but your eyes.

"Eddie, would you like to come in for a bit, maybe talk a little?" You grab his hand and start for your front door. Mouth still open, Eddie nods fervently.

Eddie shuts the door behind him and follows you to the couch. Before you sit down you ask, "Do you want something to drink?"

"Uh, sure. Whatever's fine." He sits with his knees wide.

You pull a glass from the cupboard, and grab yours from the table, along with the open bottle of wine. At the coffee table, you pour both glasses equally and hand one to Eddie.

Eddie gives you a shakey smile, smelling the wine and swirling it. "Never tried wine before." He remarks.

You giggle and shake your head. "You look like you have."

He shrugs confidently, " I saw it on TV."

You swing your legs on the couch and turn towards him, your arm resting on the back of the couch. Your boobs getting squished together and showing more cleavage than normal. You notice Eddie's eyes darting between your chest, your eyes, and his wine.

Your mouth curved into a smile, as you lowered our head, without breaking eye contact with him. "Hey, eyes up here big boy. You've been watching me for years. How old are you now? 19? 20?"

"Uh, 21 actually." He took a swig of his wine and winced at the bitterness. Your shoulders shook with a giggle.

"You don't have to drink that, you know. Twenty-one huh? There's less of a gap between us than I thought. Adulthood looks good on you." You run your fingers from the corner of his jawbone to his chin.

He shivers and stutters, "I don't mind. It's not bad. Hey Ms. Y/L/N...uh, I mean y/n - "

"Would you stop that? I'm only like 5 years older than you, not a century. What do I have to do to show you I'm not some old lady?"

You half slammed your glass down on the coffee table, and did the same with his, small splashes of red wine sloshing and spilling over the sides. Eddie looked at your wide-eyed like he was in trouble.

You stood, and climbed on top of him, resting your weight on his hips straddling him. "Would an old lady do this?" You cupped both sides of his jaw in your hands and dove into his parted lips. Gently sucking and licking his bottom lip.

You pulled away, his lips remained parted and eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"Nnn...no. I..I...I don't think so." He shook his head.

"Eddie, do you think I'm hot?" He nodded. "Do you think I'm sexy?" He nodded again, but this time with eagerness.

You crossed your arms in front of your body, grabbing either side of your cami and lifting it over your head. Eddie grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you toward him; he began to nibble and suck at your lip. You engaged and leaned into him as he slid his hands down your back to your ass, grabbing firmly.

You moved your kisses down to his jaw, and neck, and eventually peppered his collarbone with kisses. He leaned forward, with you still on his lap, and allowed you to pull his shirt off his body.

He gripped your squishy hips, biting his bottom lip, and traced his eyes from your unbuttoned shorts to your eyes.

"I feel like I should tell you, I've only done this like...2 times."

You smirked, and bent down to whisper, "It's okay, I can teach you what I like."

You crawled off of him and situated yourself on the couch next to him. You curled your finger toward yourself, and Eddie quickly stood up and kneeled between your legs.

You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, allowing it to fall and reveal your breasts. You weren't sure, but you thought you heard an audible gasp come from Eddie's direction.

"Come 'ere." You spoke softly. "I want you to kiss me...here." You pointed to your neck. "Here." To your collarbone. "Here." In between your breasts. "And here." You grasped your boobs and squeezed, letting out a whisper of a moan.

Eddie looked like a deer in headlights but happily obliged. He began trailing kisses from your neck to your collarbone and eventually reached your boobs. He cupped both sides and brought them closer together. He began to swirl his tongue around each areola, without touching the nipple just yet.

He moved his hands behind your back to your shoulder blades, digging his nails in slightly, as his head wandered to your left breast. First kissing your hardened nipple, before gently sucking. Followed by the same action on the other side. You sucked air between your teeth, hissing.

You watched as he slowly began making his way toward the top of your pants. He looked at you beneath his brows. "Is this okay?"

You reached down and unbuttoned your shorts, lifting your hips while he gripped the sides of them, pulling them down and off. You were left in your underwear, a clear damp spot where there was none minutes before.

Eddie inhaled and began kissing your inner thighs until he reached your covered pussy. You looped your thumbs into the sides of your underwear, lifted your hips, and pulled them down, revealing your slick to Eddie.

He looked you in the eyes, as his smile lies began to form, then back down to your pussy. He took his middle and index finger to open your lips so he could get a better view of your clit.

"For someone who's only done this a few times, you sure seem to know what you're doing." You smiled.

He shrugged once again. "I saw it on TV."

He placed his tongue on your clit, first swirling circles around it, and flicking it; up and down, left and right.

You arched your back and grabbed your boobs, fumbling with your nipples.

He wrapped his lips around your bud and began to suck, looking at you with blown pupils, as your moaned.

He pulled back, and ran two fingers up and down your slit, making sure you were wet enough. He plunged both fingers into you, curling and flicking them toward himself. He wrapped his lips around your clit once again and combined sucking with licking as your moans cheered him on.

You felt a tightness in your stomach, as your breathing became quicker and more intense.

"Don't stop, please." You groaned. "Right there. Dont move. Ugh fuckkk."

Eddie continued to work your body into orgasm. Your moans became louder and longer until he felt you shuddering around his fingers. But he didn't stop, he continued on, making your body tremble until you had to reach your hand to his forehead, grasp his hair, and pull him off your clit.

He kept his fingers inside you, continuing the flicking motion; you didn't let go of his hair, arching your back further and further. With a swift motion, he pulled his fingers from you and wiped them on his jeans. When you opened your eyes, he was staring intensely, mouth turned into a large smile.

"Up." You motioned with your index finger.

Eddie stood. You leaned forward, pulling the strap of his belt through the buckle, and the prong from the hole. You slid his belt out of each loop, tantalizingly slow. Eddie used his toes to take off each shoe and push them aside.

You wrapped your fingers on either side of his slender hips, into his pants and boxers, sliding them down to his ankles. His cock sprang forth as the elastic slid over it.

You sat up straighter and elongated your neck while looking at him proudly. "Off."

He hurried to pull his pants from his ankles and kick those beside his discarded shoes. Like the good soldier he was, he went right back to his placement, standing in front of you.

You dragged your nails from his hips to mid-thigh and back up. You slid your fingers from the base of under his member to the tip, then back to the base, gripping it firmly. Eddie's hands were both behind his neck, hips thrust forward slightly, as he let out a groan.

You stroked his cock slowly and kissed the tip. Looking at him from beneath your lashes, "I want you to fuck me."

"As you wish, m'lady."

You leaned back on the soft blanketed couch and scooted so that your ass was barely hanging off the edge. Eddie knelt and aligned himself with your entrance.

He scanned your face, and you nodded back.

He slowly rubbed his cock up and down your slit, as he held it firmly, slipping the head in. You gasped, and he smile devilishly.

He plunged into you, bottoming out as you yelped in shock. You didn't understand how he could be so inexperienced but be so fucking good.

He pulled himself almost out of you completely, until he began to pick up the pace; pounding himself into you. He gripped your hips to keep you in place and watched as your breasts bounced with every thrust.

You grabbed his hands, which were still on your hips, and dug your nails into them, making Eddie move faster and faster. His moves began to stutter, as he tightened his grip on you even further.

With one last guttural moan and thrust combined, he released thick ropes of cum, coating your insides. He folded over and rested his head on your stomach, slowly catching his breath.

You gently pet his head, moving hair from his face. "Damn Munson, you must watch a lot of TV."

His shoulders jerked slightly as he laughed. He looked up at you, "I'm sorry."

You knitted your brows. "What? For what? That was probably some of the best sex I've ever had." You remarked.

He sat up and licked his lips, ending with his tongue clicking. "I came inside you..."

You shrugged, "It's ok. It'll be okay."

#eddie #munson #eddie munson #eddie munson brainrot #eddie munson cute #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson writing #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things fanfiction #smut

[lets-just-daydream]

Hi there! I just found your blog and it's so good! This is my first time doing anything like this, but I was wondering if you could do some cute father figure/mother figure fluff with all of Overwatch?

CUTE

I just did a couple small drabbles because I need some of this fluff rn :3c (i suck at fluff though lol SORRY)

Drabbles under the cut!

ANA

Being in Overwatch was totally fantastic for the most part. You had fulfillment and meaning in your job, you had meals and lodging, and you had an amazing family in your fellow agents. Almost everyone felt like a sibling, father or mother to you.

Number one in the parent department was Ana. She was literally a mother and she always made time for you, especially on days like this when you were feeling down and missing your family. 

You sat alone on a bench, staring out over the grounds of Overwatch headquarters. The clink of cups on the table next to you pulled you from your thoughts and you looked up to see Ana taking the seat beside you. 

"Missing home?" She asked. 

You nodded. 

"I know that look all too well, my dear."

You didn't quite know what to say so you grabbed one of the cups of tea she brought and took a sip.

"Your family would be so proud of you, coming here and making a difference. I know it's hard, but know that we've all got your back," Ana said, offering you a warm smile. 

Between her comforting words, warm smile and hot tea, everything felt a little brighter. 

You laughed. "You somehow know where to find me every time I'm in a crisis. How do you do it?" 

Ana chuckled and grabbed her tea, bringing it to her lips. "Call it a mother's intuition." 

HANZO (bear with me on this one lmao) 

When you first met Hanzo, your number one thought was, 'oh my god he's hot.' 

But now you know him a little better and while he's attractive, he's wise beyond his years and you value his worldly views and words of wisdom. 

You saw Hanzo as a mentor and in his less-than-helpful moments, a drunk uncle to turn to when you needed some advice. Whether the advice is good or bad is neither here nor there. But he always had your back.You appreciated it. 

"How are you?" Hanzo asked as he joined you in the gym. 

You were sweating, focused and hands in boxing gloves as you really showed the punching bag who was boss. 

"I'm good," you huffed, landing another punch. "Just about done." 

"Already?" He asked. "Weak."

You looked at him, shocked. "Wha- I've been at this for half an hour, non-stop!" 

Hanzo shrugged. "You can do better." 

"Hmph." 

You tightened your gloves and faced the punching bag once again. Hanzo approached the opposite side of the bag and held onto it. You swung a punch at the bag and he scoffed.

"You call that a punch?" 

You shot him a glare and swung another, harder punch. He let out a grunt of approval and you knew his game then. 

After another 20 minutes of his encouragement at your punching, you finally tapped out and dropped to the floor, ripping the gloves off and relaxing on the cool ground. 

"That was excellent, I'm proud at how you can push through the pain," Hanzo smiled, handing you a bottle of water. 

REINHARDT

If Ana's your work mum, Reinhardt's your work dad. Your loud, excitable, enormous dad. And not just your dad, everyone's dad. He wandered through the building yelling encouragement, constructive criticisms, jokes and nonsense to everyone who would listen. Even to those who weren't listening. He was hard to block out. 

One evening as you and your team were all day around for dinner, Reinhardt began to tell a story of his old days as a Crusader. It reminded you of hearing stories of your own parents' childhoods and you settled into your seat to listen with a smile on your face as Tracer rested her head on your shoulder. 

As Reinhardt's sorry went on and he became more animated, more people filtered into the dining area and listened in, leaning on the tables, counters, sitting on the floor and even in each other's laps. 

"He's such a great story teller,' Tracer whispered as she looked around the now full room. 

You followed her gaze and you hadn't noticed how many people had joined to listen to Reinhardt's story. You even almost felt like you could fall asleep at how comfortable you were, surrounded by your Overwatch family, listening to a bedtime story from dad Reinhardt.

#red writes #overwatch imagines #overwatch x reader #hanzo x reader #ana x reader #wilhelm reinhardt x reader #reinhardt x reader #platonic

[devnmon]

Long, Long Time.

'Cause I've done everything I know To try and make you mine And I think I'm gonna love you For a long, long time

Summary: Irrevocably in love with the woman you can’t have, a wine drunk night over classical reading and a fireplace aids in decision making.

Ao3 version | tess masterlist

prequel fic

Warnings: smut [a tiny bit], reader hopelessly in love with Tess, use of y/n (a couple times); based on ep 3 of TLOU

wc: 13k

A/n: Okay ummm first of all don’t blame me for writing this much on one character that i’ve never written before, but this fic is literally my baby. It’s my favorite thing i’ve written. I thought it was my turn to take a spin with writing for Tess. Since tlou came out i’ve been obsessed with her and… well you can tell by how much I wrote. Here it is, my perfect Tess fic. Enjoy <3

Today was the day.

A warm morning in September, 20 years after the Cordyceps infection sunk into the deepest depths of society, crumbling down its once high, strong walls, to a brittle, cracked dictatorship of community. The Boston Quarantine Zone was one of your least favorite places in the world, but from what you heard about other cities' QZ's, it was a walk in the park.

As a smuggler, you handled runs for more than 75% of the place, with the help of a few desperate FEDRA officers that offered to look the other way for a price.

If risking your life for bottles of pills and useful supplies was the most dangerous thing to do, then so be it; you were the unlucky one.

Most runs, you were accompanied by one of your two partners, Tess Servopolous or Joel Miller. They were older, skilled, smart, and resourceful, and they knew how to kill. Especially Tess. She could handle her own like it was nobody's business. Hard headed and courageous, Tess became a good partner and soon enough, a close friend.

Although, there was another part of you that found her alluring, captivating and so, so gorgeous. She was confident in herself no matter what, which only drew you towards her more.

Ever since the early days of the outbreak, you three had each other's backs, and nothing could come between you. To you, they were the only thing you'd known after being found by the older woman and taken in. The day she found you, beat up and bloody with several injuries, was the day she had quite genuinely saved your life.

Now a part of Joel and Tess's smuggling business, you were off to a town called Lincoln, a five hour hike from the walls of the QZ.

The hot sun glared down on your skin, a chill September breeze flowing in gusts that kept you cooled off enough throughout your journey.

A majority of the trip was spent in silence, lost in your enamor for Tess, eyes trailing over the back of her figure. She had glanced back once or twice at you, like she could feel your eyes burning into her body.

Some nights you lay awake wondering what it would be like to drag your fingers up and down the expanses of her skin, trailing over her back and caressing the soft skin of her figure till you fell asleep.

Time passed as you traveled behind Tess and Joel, and the image of a metal fence coming into view.

"This is it," Joel stated before approaching the gate. You begin to follow the two older individuals before you pause, stopping a minute to remember something that Frank had mentioned about their gate.

"Wait, I thought you said this thing was booby-trapped or something.. How do we know it won't get triggered?" The concern of your safety was imminent, the unknown patiently waiting behind the metal gates.

"Well we don't, but Frank said if we came from the road instead of the forest that it wouldn't get triggered. They'd see us coming that way, too. Trust me, I know Frank. He wouldn't lie, not when he knows we can work together."

Tess was the expert on the two men that lived behind the gates of the completely deserted town; she was the one who arranged their meeting, after all.

"Alright.." You sighed, walking right up to the gate with them.

There was a box attached to the entry gate with a few buttons on it. You watched Joel walk up to the gate and press a button labeled 'Call'.

A loud buzzing sounded out after he'd pushed the red button in, and a moment later, a male voice responded from the intercom.

"Password."

The voice sounded deeper than Frank's, only assuming the speaker was Bill, the other half of the couple that resided in Lincoln.

"Uh- Ahem," Joel cleared his throat, before stating the code word Frank had given you three before coming.

The feedback rang out as Joel spoke, another buzzing sound coming from the gate as you hear it unlock.

"Alright, let's go. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, since we really don't know what we're walkin' into here."

Tess scoffed at her male partner's words, a smirk on her face saying otherwise from your tense anxiety of meeting new people.

"Tess, hey," you grabbed her arm ever so softly as you trailed behind her, and she looked toward you, "Are you sure we can trust these guys?"

A tiny smile formed on her face as she recognized your nervousness. She thought it was adorable and sweet how you went to her for comfort at any point in time. It warmed her heart and made her feel important to somebody again.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Frank wouldn't hurt a fly. Bill on the other hand.. he might be a bit standoffish at first. From what Frank said, I'm sure he'll warm up to us with time. Don't worry."

Tess rubbed your arm up and down a couple times, hoping it would soothe your worries. As she did, your face broke out into a small smile, nodding before you dropped your grip and continued walking. You could get lost in the hazel of her eyes like it was hypnosis, or something close to that. The way Tess made your world stop by even being in your presence was something entirely familiar to you, and it kept you up at night, pondering about the simplest things.

It seemed the little town of Lincoln, Massachusetts was surrounded by this perfect bubble of safety and security. Like a dream, the familiarity of a place as different from the QZ.. felt a bit unreal. You never thought you'd have the chance to make friends in a world with infected, much less one with access to such a large range of supplies in a deserted town, highly protected by its sole residents.

The feeling surrounding you was oddly similar to how you felt around Tess, her warmth and beauty heart-warming, much like a hug.

Your focus is brought back to reality as you almost bump into Tess's back, her and Joel had abruptly stopped walking.

"Oof- sorry Tess-"

"Y/n.." Joel says abruptly, not realizing they're both holding their hands out to the side, the cocking of what sounded like a gun putting the realization into place.

"Shit.." You whispered, stepping out from behind Tess, arms out in the same fashion as your partners, and you realize there's a man holding a gun out at the three of you.

Then, from the house the man stood in front of, another man came running out. He calls the name of the man who's holding his pistol at you, Bill.

Which means.. that's Frank. You thought to yourself, as the sweater-wearing man approached and tried to beckon the other man to lower his weapon.

"Bill, these are the people I met over the radio. We can trust them.. they aren't going to hurt us. Put the gun down, please? I don't want to scare off people we could potentially be working with.." The man named Frank said with a chuckle, almost having to force the gun down himself. After another moment of brooding stares being passed between Bill and Joel, he lowers the gun and places it in his holster at his thigh.

Your hands drop to your sides after freezing with them out in the air due to fear. It wasn't the first time someone's pointed a gun at you, but it sure as hell was one of the times you thought someone would actually shoot. Relief washed over you as Bill's arms lowered.

"Perfect, thank you," Frank says to Bill, before wrapping his arm around the man's shoulder, "Welcome to our home, I'm Frank, and this is Bill. I'm so glad to finally meet you guys. We have a lot to talk about! Come on, follow me."

Frank had a home-like smile that was warm and welcoming. It was the first time in a long time you'd seen anyone smile like that. So carefree. You guessed it was the effect of not being behind the walls of a QZ for too long. That, or Frank knew how to stay true to himself in such a rugged, rough around the edges world.

The uncomfortable gaze Bill shot your way made you realize that it probably took a lot for him to even agree to let the three of you come into their town, much less want to work with complete strangers.

While being led back to Bill and Frank's home, you can't help but marvel at everything around you. Lincoln was much different than the QZ and open city; a town quite literally frozen in time from when it had been evacuated. A place like this was one you dreamed of settling down in, with a partner before the outbreak; it seemed like the perfect place to do so. Quiet, quaint, and bare of any infected or dangerous militia and resistance groups.

As their home came into view, it was exactly as you thought it'd be: another one of the huge houses a place like suburbia always had. It was one of the biggest you'd ever seen, almost out of a storybook. Except for the leaves blowing through the streets, it was as if the house hadn't aged a day. Everything about their home and its surrounding yard looked as if it had been tended to regularly; a mowed lawn, bushes with budding flowers, and not a single area of chipped paint to be seen.

"This is our place, I do my best to keep it looking its best and Bill... well he's just one hell of a cook. Aren't you, dear?" Frank turned to Bill with a smile, only to look away from his lover and back at you three.

"It's true, one of the many things I'm good at. Including defending my home." Bill's hand went to the gun strapped on his thigh.

"Yes, of course you are. Now, could you whip us up some lunch while I get to know our lovely guests here?" Frank turns his head towards Bill again.

"But-" Bill begins to speak, wanting to name all the reasons he doesn't want to leave his lover alone with strangers. Though, you notice Frank is quick to reassure Bill that everything will be alright.

"I'll be fine, I promise. They aren't going to hurt me, I've been extra careful with who I talk to, you know that. These people aren't dangerous. At least not to us." Frank's smile breaks Bill's resolve, trusting his lover enough to retreat into the house with haste.

Now alone with Frank, he guides the three of you over to the table on their lawn. You sit down next to Tess on your right side and Frank on the left.

"So.. Tess, I assume the lovely man you arrived with is the famous Joel Miller?" Frank turned to Joel with his hand out, receiving a firm handshake and nod from the Texan man.

"And you must be..." He turns to you.

"I'm y/n, the secret.. not-so-secret third partner." You laughed awkwardly, feeling somewhat out of place with the man and woman.

"That's right, I've only heard your name a handful of times, but it is so nice to finally meet you in person." Frank read your nervous state like a book, giving you peace of mind with a warm smile. Your nervous state diminishes when Frank's words set in, easing a smile onto your face and raising your eyebrows in slight surprise.

He's heard of me? I wonder what Tess's told him...

"It's nice to meet you too, Frank."

The four of you conversed with small talk, only butting in here and there to add something in, mostly keeping to yourself and not wanting to make the wrong impression on Frank. Tess and Joel discuss the details of a trading business between you all.

Soon enough, Bill began to come out with plates and silverware, to which Frank jumped up to help with setting the table.

"I can help if-" You started to speak, feeling a little guilty at not doing anything to help out as a guest.

"No, no. Sit, relax. You're our guests here, and I'm sure your trip has been long and tiring. Besides, it's been a while since I've set the table for more people than just me and Bill, and it's something I've always loved doing." Frank's kind smile once again eases your worries. But you swore to yourself you'd find a way to repay them for this.

You nodded as the two men made several trips to set the table, appreciating every little thing they added to it one after another. Spices, napkins, fine china plates and silverware with no scratches or rust on them. It was all a marvelous sight, one that reminded you of the old world and missing little things like this in times like these.

The amount of objects they'd placed on the table made you forget just how many of those material things you realized living without was doable. Even if you wished there were more aspects of the old world in the present one.

Fiddling with your thumbs again, you listened in to Joel and Tess's muttering about whether or not they could convince the two males on agreeing to work together, until you heard an exclamation from Tess.

"Oh my god.."

Your head jolted up towards the woman, about to ask her the reason for her outburst, until you picked up what had caught her attention.

The smell of fresh, hot food surrounded the three of you, hunger scraping at the edges of your stomach, making it even more evident that your last meal hadn't been as much of a hearty one as you'd wished. Dishes with meat and vegetables were all neatly placed in the same portion sizes as Frank and Bill put each plate down.

Before you dug in, you heard a familiar pop of cork from what you could only assume was a wine bottle. Sure enough, as you looked at Frank, the bottle he'd brought out resembled one you'd buy for a nice meal like this.

It wasn't until you heard the same cocking of Bill's pistol that you froze in your place. You watched as he placed it on the table for you all to see, a statement of protection and untrustworthiness he clearly still saw in the three of you.

Maybe not you or Tess specifically, but Joel, most definitely.

You decide to ignore the firearm's presence on the table, and begin eating the food that's so delicately placed on each of your plates. Instead of scarfing it all down like some rabid animal, you savored each bite of the flavorful, nutritious food and sip of wine like it was your last.

It might as well have been, since you had no idea whether or not you would be working together.

You wondered how people even ate on china plates that were as delicate and prettily detailed in the most extravagant ways. The silverware and wine glasses were also detailed and etched in such a beautiful way. It made you appreciate the smallest things before you had to go without them again.

A while passes, and everyone's finishing their food up. Light gusts of wind flow through Tess's hair as you look over to her, holding the glass of wine in her hand.

"Well, this really is just-- it's amazing." A slight smile on her face brings warmth to your chest, heating your body despite the cool air.

"Right?" Frank looks from Tess to Bill, who still has his pistol on the table, "Can you not please?"

He reaches over Tess's glass to fill it with the dark red alcohol, then reaches over to yours to do the same as you smile at him.

"I'm the same way," Joel states, understanding where Bill's actions are coming from. You realized in that moment that Bill and Joel are more alike than you thought.

"Oh, you're a paranoid schizophrenic too?" There's a slight chuckle that sounds out from you and Tess as Frank speaks.

"I'm not schizophrenic." Bill suddenly retorts, knowing the validity behind the methods to his madness.

Tess clears her throat, attempting to break the awkward tension that's so clearly grown between Bill and Joel.

"Well can I just say, gun aside, which I get, by the way, how nice this is to have a civilized meal in such a beautiful place? It's been so long. I mean it, I just- I wanna thank you. Even if we don't end up working together. I really needed this."

Her words seemed genuine, a slight twinge of silent and repressed pain in what she said. You only knew an extent of Tess's emotional wounds, ones she pushed down to do her job better.

As Frank lifts his wine glass to Tess with a small smile, he states, "We are working together."

The two clink their glasses together, making you raise yours to do the same.

"Cheers." Tess and Frank clink their glasses, and then Tess turns to you in the same fashion, quickly lifting your glass to clink together.

You all finish up your meals, occasionally glancing over to Tess with appreciation that you got to share something this special with your best friend.

And then the realization hit you, she was only your best friend, and you'd wanted to be more with her since she'd revealed a different side of her to you throughout the years. It was a kind, warm, caring side of Tess that made her feel like the familiarity of those strawberry candies that were hard on the outside, but soft, sweet and gooey on the inside. Tess was rough around the edges, but when she was alone with you were the times she revealed a softer side of herself.

Frank hadn't glanced anywhere other than Tess and Joel, picking up the way they discussed with one another, as if they were good business partners and friends. He'd been blinded by the fact that you sat furthest from Joel, barely even glancing his way for a split second.

The moment Frank gets a good look at you at the table is when he picks up on the way you look at Tess; it's different than the way you look at Bill and Joel, and by god does it open his eyes a mile wide. He only hides it behind his all-knowing warm persona and recognizes a light in your eyes that he saw similarly in Bill's the minute before he'd kissed him, that one day in 2007. Three years later, he saw that same spark of light in you, whenever your eyes glazed over to the only other woman at the table.

The warm younger man looks to his partner, who's anything but, to reassure you all again.

"We are." A moment passes as he sips from the wine glass and speaks again, "You know what? Let's go inside. Tess and y/n, I wanna show you something."

Frank begins to stand, lifting his wine glass from the table, Tess following next before you stand as well.

"Oh yes, it sounds amazing, I'd love to see inside." Now more sociable with the two glasses of wine in your system, you catch your balance before pushing your chair out from the table.

"Actually, I have been wanting to see inside, thank you."

Your words and Tess's overlap at the same time, chuckling a little at the synchronized movements and words between you and the older woman.

"Bring your wine. There's more inside."

"No, not inside. Frank.. Frank!" Bill's voice echoes from the table, as Frank holds the front door open for you two.

You're looking down at your feet as you walk up the porch and into the house, unaware that Tess was glancing back every few seconds to see if you followed. As you step inside, you wipe your boots off on the mat and Frank shuts the door behind him.

Your eyes finally pull away from the mat you've wiped your boots off on, to the inside of Bill and Frank's home. A deep breath of air fills your lungs to the brim as the sight of it all is a bit overwhelming.

"Wow..." you sigh, Frank stood behind you, Tess a few feet ahead, "I haven't seen anything like this in so.. long..."

You trail off as the sight of it all renders you speechless. There's candelabras with fresh wax from candles and picture frames with black and white photos. The image of inside makes it feel like a home, something you haven't felt in a very long time.

"Come on, it's right over here." Frank speaks out loud to the both of you, only you're still standing a few feet in front of the door, as the two walk into the open room just right of the stairway.

"Oh wow, look at these photo albums! I haven't seen one of these in forever.. Are they all Bill's?" Tess's voice carries to you from the other room, noticing her slight chuckle as you gaze over to where she's flipping through one of the albums.

"Yeah, yeah they are. Just don't tell him I showed you.." The two continue to giggle to themselves over the old pictures.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't even notice the extensive vinyl collection.. You know, I used to have a turntable back in college. I'd play the same old records every day, annoyed the hell out of my roommates.." Tess chuckles as she talks about her past life, something you always enjoyed hearing about when she brought it up.

With you, she could bring up anything from her old life, and you'd listen to every word.

You still had the suspicion that she and Joel had a thing going on, and your not-so-little crush on her was doing more harm for you than good in that aspect.

Tess and Frank are looking through the collections of vinyl and photos while you nonchalantly watch from afar, eyes glazing over to the massive shelves of books. Most of the ones on lower shelves were Bill's books on survival and guns, but the ones resting on the higher shelves were classics.

Before the outbreak, you'd been a sucker for those. There was something about the art of classic literature, the subtext and deeper meanings under every word. The beauty of those stories was unmatched.

I'd love to read one of those over some wine.. Matter of fact-

"Hey Frank? Where's that other bottle of wine?" You call out to him from the doorway, with your glass still in hand. Frank glances over to you from a few feet away.

"It's in the fridge, wine opener is uh- somewhere in there. You'll find it."

"Okay, thanks."

You finally break off from the two, eyes glazing over every single picture Bill and Frank have of themselves in their home, as well as the paintings Frank's done of Bill and himself.

Striding into the other room, the kitchen was in a state of what looked freshly used; pots and pans were everywhere, the scent of once heated oil lingering.

Your curious eyes peel over all the older pictures, then notice one in color that's stuck to the fridge with a rainbow magnet.

A twinge in your chest comes as well as joy for the two men that happened to find each other among a world of infected and dictatorships.

You just wish it would have happened to you already.

Bill must have had some vintage cameras lying around, ones Frank knew how to use, or learned to use for things like this. You crouched closer to look at the picture of the two men, bodies pressed together and hands clasped in each other's like they never wanted to let go.

And in such a world, why would they want to?

You pull the refrigerator door open, spotting the unopened bottle of red wine in the door. Reaching for it, you read the label, Beaujolais.

Huh, fancy name for a wine. It'll get me drunk all the same though.. Now where is that damn cork opener?

You're rummaging around in the kitchen drawers until you finally find it, oblivious to the fact that Tess has walked up behind you in your haste to find the damn thing. Her grey shirt is unbuttoned, with a white tee underneath. She always had the simplest style, but it didn't stop her from looking fucking stunning in anything she wore. Tess makes her presence known to you, arms folded across her chest as she leans against the doorway. Picturesque light chestnut strands of hair frame the soft features of her face.

"Whatcha got there?" your body whips around, wine bottle and opener in each of your hands (and almost slipping from them), to which Tess smirks a little at the sight.

You were surprised to not have heard the sound of her boots on the wooden floor, but Tess always had a way of surprising you like that.

You smile sheepishly, raising the bottle and wine opener in both your hands. Truth was, Tess popped in at the perfect time; you could never get the hang of opening things like this.

Opening bottles of liquor for you was always Tess's thing, since you didn't have the skill or strength for it. Your hands were just naturally smaller than hers as well, which meant it was only a job for a person with bigger hands.

How you wished you could hold them.

"Just in time. Could you open this for me? It's more your thing than mine.. Please? Before I drop it or something.."

Tess strides towards you and grabs both objects from your hands. She inserts the opener into the cork and twists until the similar pop from earlier indicates she'd removed it, the wine's aroma filling the area between you two.

Her strength was so attractive, the way she could make the simplest things such as opening a wine bottle look hot. The veins in her hands protruded when her grip strained, making you wonder what her hands would look like doing different things.

Tess lifts the cork to her nose, smelling the wine more intensely now, looking angelic as she breaths it in. Then, she lifts it to your nose, the gesture so familiar to you, but yet you've never seen Tess in a moment like this before.

The scent of the liquor paired with how Tess looks in the sunlight peering through the window is intoxicating in itself, as she places the bottle on the counter. Glancing outside, the golden light began to fade fast, darkness approaching quicker than you'd like it to.

With a smile, you walk over to the countertop and pour yourself another glass of wine.

"Thanks... you'll have to teach me that sometime." You couldn't tell if the flush on your cheeks was from the wine, or the gesture Tess just did for you.

"Yeah, but then what would you need me for?" Tess cocks her head to the side, a slight smirk on her face again. That damn smirk.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed.

As if I could ever go without you, Theresa.

"Oh, please. I'll always need you, Tess."

"Right.. So, Frank said we could stay the night, since it's more dangerous to travel when it isn't daytime. Our visit was longer than expected.." Tess's eyes move from you to outside, where Bill and Joel were still sat, discussing in what looked like a more civilized way than earlier.

"They have enough room for us?" You asked, sipping at the red wine.

"Yeah, they've got two extra bedrooms. So, I figure you and I could share one and give Joel the other room for himself. Plus they said we could use their shower," Tess shuffled closer to you and lowered her voice, "I hear they have hot water.."

Your eyes widened at the thought of a hot shower, something you hadn't realized was accessible anymore. Though, before speaking, you cleared your throat to minimize any indication of nervousness in the fact that you and Tess would be sharing a bed tonight.

"You sure you wouldn't rather room with Joel? I.. move around a lot in my sleep."

A confused look displays itself across Tess's face.

"I mean- I wouldn't want you to wake up with me on top of you or.. anything.." A nervous chuckle erupts from your chest as you laugh your awkwardness off.

"I think that second bottle of wine is what I should be worried about, not your restlessness." She smirks again, "But have fun with that. I'm gonna go wash up. Talk later?"

You only nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of your best friend any more.

As Tess left the room, the strain of your journey finally set in. Soles of your feet began to twinge with pain, carrying you to the next room with the wine bottle and glass in hand.

You saunter into the living room, the amount of wine you've consumed making your cheeks, not to mention your whole body, flush with heat. The weight of your figure flopped down in a corner of the room as you placed the wine bottle down.

You gulped at the rest of the liquid in your glass, putting it on the side table. Gazing around the room at all the vintage items in perfect condition, your eyes meet the tall shelf of classic literature once again.

Pulling yourself from the chair, you pick up the bottle of wine by its neck, instead of pouring yourself another glass.

They're not gonna miss one little bottle... they've got a whole vineyard to themselves.

It's then you hear the front door open finally, Bill and Joel coming in, their discussion a little lighter than the one they were having earlier. You hear a chuckle fall from Joel in his Texan accent and your eyebrows raise.

Wow, they're finally getting along. Maybe we will have new business partners after all..

You stumble over to the bookshelf, about three glasses of wine making your bodily strength diminish with every sip you took. You were in a more tipsy state than usual; not having drank alcohol for years had more of an effect on you than it usually would.

The higher bookshelves are littered with dust, not having been touched since who knows when; you're just tall enough to drag your fingers across the top shelf on your tippy toes, the one below it littered with the many classic stories.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence, Emma by Jane Austen.

You read the titles off in your head, fingers trickling over the necks of each hardcover novel, stopping at Little Women and pulling it from the bookshelf. You also grabbed Pride and Prejudice, planning to ask Frank or Bill in the morning to borrow them till your next visit.

Slumping over in the chair again, you open Little Women, pages crinkling as the smell of the vintage book hits your face. It almost makes you sneeze, but you stifle it and begin reading.

You're mumbling to yourself in the little cozy corner of Frank and Bill's house, perched in a red armchair, and it's the most domestic you've ever seen yourself be in a long time. Granted, you were becoming more intoxicated with each gulp of the bitter alcohol you ingested. It floods your insides with warmth, your train of thought sidetracking from the story in your hand to the thought of the gorgeous woman that was Tess Servopolous.

She felt like home, the sweet smile she revealed to you your favorite thing about her. Her hardened exterior cracked and withered away bit by bit with every day you lay in her apartment healing from your injuries.

You're pulled out of the daydream when footsteps descend down the stairway, until the figure turns the corner. Frank's face comes into the warm lamp light, silently walking into the room and fiddling around with a few things before making his way over nearby where you sat.

Over the edges of the book, you watch him grab a few logs of firewood, placing one in the brick fire pit, before lowering your eyes back to the book. A few more minutes pass of his fidgeting before you realize the fireplace has come alive with flames of light.

Waves of heat flood the room, completely bringing your attention away from the book in your hands.

"No way..." Your voice draws Frank's eyes to you.

"Way. You know, my favorite thing to do in the fall is make fires.. Bonfires, campfires, any kind of natural warmth feels so home-like and safe. Don't you think so?"

"Yeah.. my childhood home had such a nice fireplace like this. It's really nice to see and feel again after so long." The two of you share a smile and look at the fire. Flames crackle and burn high, popping at times, the same way it used to before. Silence is adamant throughout the room, clutching the novel in your arms as the flames continue to burn.

"So.. you gonna tell me what's got you slumped over in a corner reading classic literature? I can't imagine it's that riveting.." Frank's tone tells you that he's joking, but you can't help from being at least a little offended in your drunken state.

"Classic literature is actually my favorite genre of novel, for your information. And you wouldn't get it…" The irony of your words slaps you in the face the minute they manifest themselves because.. Frank does know what it's like to feel the way you do. He’s just still in the dark about it.

"Hey, hey. You can tell me what's going on. I may or... may not have any experience on what you're going through."

Then the realization sets in that he's probably felt the way you do his whole life.

It's at that moment you decide to trust him. You close the book over, and look Frank in the eye.

"Okay, but this stays between us. Promise?"

"Of course."

A sigh leaves your chest and you begin to tell him how you feel about a certain one of your smuggling partners.

"Tess saved me... however many years ago it was... I can't remember how long it's been now. I've just always been around her since then. She's done things for me and- and I've done things for her... But I never knew why I always wanted to be around her.. until one night when I had a really, really rough day and she comforted me. I never wanted to leave her arms, and that's when I realized.. I liked her. She's my best friend, Frank.. What would I do if she doesn't feel the same? I don't think I could live with myself if I ruin our friendship because of some stupid fucking crush."

You finished speaking, letting out another sigh like you'd just thrown up all the thoughts reverberating in your head the second you made it out of the QZ walls.

Frank's silent until he speaks, analyzing and connecting dots in his head about this afternoon and the way you'd been acting.

"All that... doesn't sound just like a little crush to me, hon. You love her.. and you want what's best for her. Protecting yourself from the hypothetical hurt of her not feeling the same is valid.. but you're not gonna know how she feels about you if you don't tell her. Take the night, and think on it. Or... go ahead and keep on reading your classic literature while the love of your life goes to sleep upstairs. I'm just saying, if you don't try, then what's the point?"

The next time you look Frank in the eyes, they're filled with kindness, and you can tell he sees you for who you really are. There's no hiding your true self around him, he reads you the same way he read Bill the day he fell in that hole in the ground.

"You know what, you're right. I'm gonna take the night to think about it, thanks, Frank. I don't know what I'd do if I was alone in this."

Frank places his hand over yours in a compassionate and friendly way. He understood where you'd been coming from, especially with the way you both were.

The rest of your night is spent cuddling up under a blanket Frank had placed over your legs before he headed up to bed for the night. The wine drunk put you in an exhausted state, eyelids as heavy as weights until you ended up falling asleep curled up in the chair, fire dwindling away to nothing but embers.

A nudge to your arm slightly pulls you from your slumber, wine bottle abandoned on the floor from earlier. The next thing you feel is a strong grip lifting your body from the chair. With a groan, your arms flail weightlessly to the side, as you're picked up bridal style, the creaking under the wood indicating you were being carried up the stairs.

It's probably Joel who's lifted you like this with no effort at all, no chance it was Frank or Bill. Tess was already asleep too, and once she rested her head, there was no waking her. She slept like a rock.

You figure you're finally up the stairs as the steps steady, pushing the door open silently to the dark bedroom. Finally, you're placed down onto the soft bed, boots being tugged from your feet and placed on the floor. Rolling over a bit, you groan at the comfortable state of the bed.

Already comforted by the blankets, the heat of your body diminishes in the cool, dark room, as you doze off to sleep for the night.

As morning peeks through the shades of the cool bedroom, a pounding headache rammed behind your skull as your eyes inch open. Fluttering profusely, your pupils adjust to the rays of sunlight slowly, head still spinning.

Groaning at the pain, your eyes shift from the window to the side table, where there'd been a glass of water and two pills of Tylenol placed next to a small piece of paper. You sit upright in the bed, truly unable to recall the events of the previous night. The only thing you remembered vaguely was that second bottle of wine, one you regretted even picking up.

You reached for the note, headache only pounding harder as you attempted to read it.

For your head, since you really thought that second bottle of wine was a good idea. We've got breakfast made when you feel well enough. - Frank

It's at that moment you realize your mouth is bone dry, concluding on the fact that you hadn't drank one drop of water last night. As if a desperate plea for the quenching of your thirst, you drop the note in your lap abruptly, gravitating towards the very full glass of water sitting just a foot away.

The liquid slides down your throat as you desperately gulp it down, only stopping for a moment to pop both Tylenol into your mouth. After finishing the glass of water, you look down at the note again.

Signed Frank, but I've seen this handwriting before. Somewhere.. My hungover brain cannot remember right now for the life of me.

A yawn breaks through your chest, your hand instinctively going up to cover your mouth. When the smell of your breath hit your nose, it became apparent to you that you should probably take advantage of the hot and running water in the home.

Quickly, you threw the covers to the side, glancing down at your legs, body covered in the same clothes as yesterday. You didn't even dare attempt to sniff those articles of clothing, knowing how sweat stained they had become on the hike yesterday.

Yeah, you really needed to shower.

Standing from the bed now, you reach over to grab your bag, when you realize you've left it downstairs. Only when you look around the room is when you see a plain grey t-shirt sitting on the arm of a chair.

Tess's shirt, no doubt.

You pick it up and hold it in your hands, the scent of her sure enough surrounding your head.

As tempting as it would be to head back to sleep, you walk over to the bedroom door, opening it to the hallway. It seemed there was nobody remaining upstairs, evident due to the light conversation coming from downstairs. Your socked feet patter across the hall, peeping around a corner before b-lining straight for the bathroom.

Placing the clothing on the countertop, you reach into the shower and start the running water. As it slowly heats the small room, you stride over to a closet, pulling it open to find an abundance of everything you could've ever needed to bathe in the world before. Shampoos, conditioners, body wash, shaving cream and razors.

Wow, these guys really know how to keep inventory. They won't mind if I make use of some of this stuff, I definitely need it more than they do right now.

Steam fills the bathroom as you pull each article of sweat-stained clothing from your body, landing all together in a pile. As you pull the curtain back and step in, the warm water washes over your work-weathered body, goosebumps rising at the comfortably warm liquid.

It was euphoric, the temperature of clean, filtered water paired with the privacy of the shower.

You can only stand still as the dirt and other liquids patter to the tub floor, bringing you lighter in mood and vibrance as well.

As you scrub your scalp with the shampoo, the events of last night finally return to you.

Reading Little Women, admitting how you felt about Tess to Frank- the decision you told him you'd take the night on and think about.

You caught your head in your hands as embarrassment for yourself washed over you, much like the warm water of the shower.

"Ughh, I can't believe I told Frank that stuff.." Although you didn't regret it, not completely. The chat you had actually made you feel better, getting it off your chest after so long of holding it in.

You just wished it would be that easy to tell the person of your affection.

The spray of water from the shower ceased as you turned it off, stepping out onto the bath mat and wrapping a towel around you.

Regrettably, you had no other clothes to change into, so you pull on everything you'd worn the day before, except for your shirt. You put on the grey one for now.

Yep, it definitely smelled like Tess.

Pulling your cargo pants on, you stride out of the steam-filled bathroom, and your feet lead you into Bill and Frank's room.

Though you feel it's trespassing on an already stepped-over line, you head towards their closet, quickly opening the door and taking in the massive amount of flannel shirts hanging there.

Frank had impeccable taste in clothes, deciding to yank one or two of the darkly colored button ups from their hangers. You took a pair of socks as well, since yours had holes in them from their constant use.

You thought about not telling Frank about your thievery, but it's going to become imminent when you walk down the stairs with his shirts in your arms. So you shove them in your bag once you find it resting next to the bed.

Heading back into the guest bedroom, you pull the fresh pair of socks onto your feet, beginning to reach for your black boots sitting on the floor. Reaching down for one, you hear a knock at the door before you can grab it.

Quickly, you stride over to the door, expecting to see Frank or Bill on the other side with a message from your partners about hurrying to leave or something along those lines.

To your surprise, the face on the other side of the door is Tess.

Shit, Tess. The person you promised Frank you'd confess to last night over a drunken conversation.

She looks well rested, wearing a different shirt than the one from yesterday. It's a dark green, that compliments her eye color and the wisps of her caramel hair framing her face. Her hair is in that half up-half down bun, the rest of it resting behind her shoulders.

She looks fucking perfect, and you look like a wet dog, hair still damp from your shower.

"Hey, morning. How'd you sleep? I uh-" Tess is pulling at her collar awkwardly, standing in the same fashion as your eyes finally trail down to what she'd holding in her hands.

She had a plate in her grip, covered in freshly made, very appetizing breakfast foods. Some so freshly made, there was still steam coming off of it.

You're thankful in this moment to have taken those Tylenol earlier, or else the smell of any food whatsoever would've sent you hurling over the toilet like a hungover sorority girl.

"Oh my god, Tess. What is all this?" Your eyes widened in surprise, the smell catching your attention even before you had seen the plate of food in her hands.

"Well, you need a big breakfast for the journey back to Boston today, and I figured you could use it after last night.." A chuckle breaks through her chest, head dipping downwards before looking at your freshened state.

"Come- come in." You move aside for Tess to enter the bedroom, assuming you'd slept alone in here for the night. As she places the tray down on the bed, you sit down, Tess standing a few feet away.

"Tess, did you make this? What the hell- This looks amazing.. Eggs, sausage, hash browns? These are all my favorites.. Seriously, thank you. Wh-what can I do to make it up to you?"

"Well, first of all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And second of all, don't thank me, thank Bill and Frank, it's their food I cooked. Consider it a hangover cure. Once I get so drunk that I fall asleep in an armchair with a classic book in my lap, then you can pay me back. It better be a damn good breakfast." She chuckles again, in that low voice that keeps you up at night when you think about it.

The way it says your name, her low tone when she curses under her breath, the way she sounds in the early mornings when the sun still hasn't risen and she's drowsy enough to not make any sense in her muttering.

Tess went through all the trouble of making everything she knew you favored, the mere thought of her thinking about you as she cooked it all only made your enamor for her grow stronger, a fire of love burning behind your chest for the woman in front of you.

It's then she takes a seat on the bed with you, watching as you poke into the eggs and begin devouring the food on your plate. She wasn't leaving, by the looks of it.

In the middle of chewing your food, you speak again.

"Did Frank tell you I passed out down there?"

Her grin becomes larger now as her eyes move from the plate of food to your face as you consume your breakfast.

I wonder what else he told her. Hopefully nothing I haven't yet...

"No, I'm the one that found you, silly. Carried you up the stairs and put you to bed myself."

You continue chewing as your eyes widen, another realization from last night coming back to mind.

It wasn't Joel carrying you, it was Tess.

"You carried me up the stairs? Wow, I'm gonna have to start lifting weights if I have to do the same for you."

While you speak, you're enjoying every morsel of this delicious food Tess has made you, and you're grateful for her in so many more ways than you could express presently.

"You better," Tess says with a scoff. A couple more minutes pass by as you're finishing up the food on your plate. You notice that she's still sitting in the room with you, taking your silence as a sign of comfortability around her.

"So, what's up, Tess?" You say, shoving another fork full of hash browns into your mouth.

"Well, I came to check on you, since last night Frank told me you were drinking a whole 'nother bottle of wine by yourself.. and reading classic literature? For fun?" She laughs.. "I figured you might be hungover this morning and wanted to bring you something to fill your stomach. I can't have you fainting on me when we hike back to the QZ, now can I? Gotta keep your strength up, hun."

The name melts your heart a little and you smile. It was such a simple thing, one that indicated she cared about your wellbeing and didn't want to see you unwell.

"Yeah, always gotta be nourished and shit. Just human things, I guess. Though, a meal like this never gets old." You said with a smile.

It became more difficult to hold back the thoughts of holding and kissing the woman before you, her green button down shirt just aching to be pulled in order to kiss her. Those perfect hazel eyes of hers that resembled gems when they hit the sun just right, getting effortlessly lost in them every time they locked with yours. Her hands that completed her daily tasks so beautifully, with such care and concern in everything she did making you think she'd hold you the same way, love you the same beautiful way she did everything in her life with.

"I'm guessing you're feeling alright, then? Tylenol helped?" It was cute that Tess was still worrying about how you were feeling from the night before. Putting the fork down finally, you looked up at her.

"Yeah I- Wait, how'd you know I took Tylenol?" You hadn't mentioned anything to her about taking medicine.. so how did she know?

"Well I uh- I just.." She scoffed lightly before continuing, "I asked Frank to leave some by your bedside earlier and I was really worried about you, since yesterday. You don't drink like that unless something's bothering you."

Her eyes focused on you, hair lightly spilling over her shoulder, and she's in the moment with you now more than she had ever been. It's almost like she's reading you when you glance up again, pulling at the collar of your shirt.

"I know, Tess. It's just-" you sigh, thumbs fiddling with each other, palms beginning to prick ever so lightly with sweat.

"You can tell me anything, you know that right?" Her voice was sweet and soft, lowering a bit to hopefully ease your worries. One of her hands grabs yours, and the sensation is enough to make the breath in your lungs hitch.

If there was any perfect moment to confess, this was it.

"Tess, there's something I need to tell you." A slight quiver of your voice tells her that this thing that had been bothering you clearly meant a lot. You keeping things from her wasn't a common occurrence, which only happens when something was beyond frustrating for you to talk about.

"Okay, what is it?"

You're infuriatingly beautiful and I want to kiss you right now.

"It's the fact that I'm over here pining like an idiot for you and you can't even see it.." You mutter, not wanting to look Tess's way for fear of judgment or rejection. She notices, and in that very moment she longs to see the fire in your eyes burn its brightest. "It's the fact that- that I love you, and you probably love someone else.."

"Someone else?" Tess scoffed, "And who do you think that is, huh?"

"I don't know.. Joel, maybe.." Head still hung, your hands shake slightly, chest filled to the brim with uneasiness and anxiety.

Was it just you, or did the temperature in here get hotter?

"Y/n, look at me." You hesitate for a moment, then slowly your eyes move from their locked position on your hands.

Tess's hands are fidgeting in her lap too, you notice.

The second you lift your head, the glossy state of your eyes catches her attention, and her face eases once you're looking directly at her. Tess's bottom lip catches between her teeth for a moment, and she glances down swiftly, then back up at you.

"Joel and I are nothing but friends, you understand? I don't want him, never have." The words hit your ears and it's as if a weight lights off your shoulders.

It's the most clarifying moment that makes you giddy to spill everything onto her lap.

"Tess.." you breathe, closing your eyes for a moment and making a decision, "Please don't shoot me for this..."

You begin to lean in towards her, eyelids hooded as you glance down to her lips, watching intently as she does the same. It feels like an eternity before you're close enough to pick up on her natural scent, consuming your brain and going fuzzy upon the close proximity.

A warm tingling fills your hands as they brush over Tess's thighs and hover just over the dark denim covering them.

Once, twice, three times you glanced down at her lips, pausing to drag your eyes across her flawless face.

"Are you gonna kiss me, or what?" Her snarky tone pulls your eyes back to gaze into her hazel ones, almost getting lost in them before getting the courage to do something you couldn't come back from.

"Shut up," You say, before your hands grab onto her collar, and pull her lips to yours. Her kiss takes your breath away, crawling into her lap, collar of Tess's shirt still in your grip. Sparks flicker in your chest, and they're coming off of Tess's as well, deepening the kiss with another push of your lips against hers.

The weight of you in her lap pulls a groan from the woman opposite you, separating your lips from hers. You almost couldn't pull away, but the thought of hurting her made your worry jump a mile high.

"Shit.. Are-are you okay?" Tess gives you another peck on your lips, before trailing her eyes down your face and neck. The smirk on her face makes the heat from your cheeks travel down your torso.

"Oh, I'm better than ever... you wanna know why?"

Nodding your head fervently, her hands trail up your shirt to your collar, watching as her pupils dilate around the hazel in her eyes. The grasp on your shirt is tight, even tighter when she beckons you impossibly closer to her. The next moment, she's pulling your lips to hers in another passionate kiss. Your lips are pressed together for so long, it feels like you're out of breath by the time she pulls away.

"It's because I love you." The three words fall from her lips like a siren beckoning you with its song. Her voice has never sounded more perfect, and when she says those words to you, it's an indescribable amount of joy that fills your chest.

Her panting is an indication of not being able to breathe, but she doesn't fucking care if she got to kiss you like that.

"You love me, too?" Out of curiosity, you ask again, just to make sure it registers in your brain. Disbelief makes your heart jump, even though you've just kissed her, and you never wanted to stop.

Even though she told you she felt the same way, it was still a dream.

"Of fucking course I do. Ever since I took care of you, those few months you were living in my apartment. How could I not?" One of her hands trails up your face, brushing some stray hairs obstructing her view, so she could look at you fully.

The woman you've pined after for years has loved you all the same, and the realization feels a lot like you've wasted so much time behind a closed door. Sleepless nights went by with you writing about her in your journal, detailing all the ways you would love her if she only loved you back.

Tess adored you, she just hadn't let herself show it or feel any other way than a friend, and she'd been terrified to lose you if she fucked any of that up. The years and years of pining built to this very moment, tension in the room thick as you gazed at her lovingly.

"Tess.. kiss me again..."

It was a desperate plea for that fucking woman to press your lips to hers so you could taste her even stronger than you thought you could handle.

"I don't think I'll be able to stop if I do." Her low voice made your legs tremble, a new kind of desire growing due to her.

"Then don't." Your lips clashed together with hers, tongues exploring each other's mouths in a feverish attempt to taste even more of you than she already had.

The truth was, she had all of you for a long time, and now she couldn't imagine needing anything more.

A soft moan is pulled from your chest as Tess's teeth nip at your bottom lip. The both of you seem breathless as you pull away again, but every time you glance down at her swollen lips is when you want to just press them to yours over and over again.

"God, you're so beautiful, it's hard to look directly at you sometimes." Her words catch you off guard, feeling your eager hands travel up her neck, one resting on her shoulder while the other sneaks your fingers between her soft strands of hair. Twirling a lock of it, the blush on your face makes her smirk.

"Stop it, I mean just look at yourself. You're so hot and intimidating and perfect and-"

"You saying you're not those things?" Her brows furrow in distaste, because how dare you suggest otherwise.

"I'm saying you are. Pretty girl." A giggle erupts from your chest, raking your fingers through her hair with appreciation.

"If you don't say you're all of those things right this second, love, I'm just gonna have to prove it to you. And you know I will."

Your eyebrows raise, wanting to pull a little sneaky trick on her.

"Say that I'm what?" The smirk on your face makes Tess blush a little, chuckling to herself because she knows exactly what you're doing.

"Say that you're..." One of her hands goes to the top button of your shirt and unbuttons it as she places a quick peck on your cheek, "Perfect, intimidating, hot, everything I want.. God, fuck. Look at what you do to me.."

Her nimble fingers trail down your shirt, undoing each button carefully, letting the shirt fall open to your sides. Hands rest on the skin of your sides, just under the shirt you're wearing. Her shirt you're wearing.

"Tess.." You sigh breathlessly, still trying to gain back whatever air was pulled out of your lungs just a moment earlier.

"Hmm? Tell me what you want, baby." She tilts her head ever so slightly, the smirk on her face only enlarging when she sees the desire in your lust-blown eyes. Her pet name all but pulls a squeal from your chest, scrunching your nose upon hearing her low words.

"I want you, Tess. God, I want all of you.. But we can't-" Your hands run up and down her sides, shaking ever so slightly at her intimidating smirk.

"We can do anything we want, sweetheart. I've got you, now. No one's gonna take you away from me, ever. And no one's taking me from you. Got it?"

It's so warm, so Tess, such a loving and nurturing side of her that spills those words into your chest like a goddamn golden light, and it brings tears to your eyes. Sniffling, you try to blink them away every second they threaten to fall from your eyes.

The close proximity of her immediately pulls you into a safe hug, tears dropping on the cloth of her shirt, dampening the fabric bit by bit. Her hand rubs up and down your back, comfort surrounding you in the moment like nothing else in the world.

"So-sorry, Tess, I didn't mean to get your shirt all wet," You say, pulling back from her embrace, "I'm just.. so fucking happy because I love you and- and you're finally mine."

The words come out like the easiest thing in the world, like you could tell her your deepest darkest secrets and she'd still love you completely as you are.

"Aw, you look so pretty when you're in love. 'Bout the most perfect thing in the whole world to me, pretty girl."

"Well, yeah. It's all your fault that I'm crying like a sap, dummy." You playfully punch her shoulder and wipe your face, tears finally ceasing their descent from your eyes.

"You love me that much, huh?" This time, Tess's smile is sweet, intimate and all but this time your eyes lock with hers in a deep gaze.

"Love you even more than that, Tess." A giggle erupts from your chest as her lips press ever so lightly to your neck, ghosting feather light kisses across your skin. Before she pulls back, she attaches her lips to your skin and sucks obsessively, in the same spot. A particularly sensitive spot she gets to pulls a whimper from your chest, the sound making her pull away from kissing you, eyebrows raised with curiosity.

"What was that, baby?" You whimper again, embarrassment washing over you while your cheeks are being painted with a blush.

"Need you, Tess. Need you so bad.." The last word comes out rather quickly, hips rolling against hers ever so slightly.

"I'm right here, honey. Tell me what you need from me, and I'll give it to you." Her words come out like a plead, work-worn hands and fingers trailing over the waistband of your pants. "Come on, we don't have much time. Joel wants to get on the road soon.."

Oh God. Joel. Bill. Frank.

Your thoughts freeze and think to the three other men in the house, or probably somewhere nearby, if not lingering just a few feet away down the stairs.

"Shit, should we-"

"Yes, my love, we should. After all this time, we should."

"But the door-"

The bedroom door; it was swung almost completely open.

"Guess you better be quiet then." She mutters, voice low with lust and the need for you to fall apart for her just once before their travels.

"Tess-" You whimper breathlessly, and before you can speak another word, her lips attach to yours again. Her hair smells like lavender, and her lips taste like strawberries.

"Do you trust me?" She asks, wanting to know you're okay with her going further.

"You know I do. I trust you with my life." You reply, almost immediately. Her soft eyes gaze into yours and she nods.

It's the most perfect vision of Tess you've had your entire life, and nothing in this world could tear you away from that.

Once you feel her hands unbuckling your pants successfully, one of her hands slips down under the fabric, bypassing your underwear right down to where she knows you need her.

Her middle and ring finger slide through the arousal between your legs, and the second she feels you throbbing against her, is when her kisses trail from your mouth to your neck.

"Tess, fuck-" You whimper out, as her fingertips swirl around the most sensitive part of you.

"Needy girl, aren't you? So gorgeous..." The smirk on her face turns devious when her eyes meet yours again, catching how your face contorts with pleasure under her doing.

Another mewl leaves your chest, nodding fervently once again.

"Shit, all wet for me? You really know how to make a woman happy.." The slight laughter from her chest makes you clench around nothing. Nothing, until her fingers pursue lower than your sensitive bundle of nerves. Deep breaths of air make your chest heave, and Tess is only relishing in the way you're falling apart completely for her.

Before you feel her fingers prodding at your entrance, your hand grabs her forearm and she halts her movements.

"What about you?" Your eyes seem to beg for her without saying another word more, and she hesitates for a moment, until she speaks.

"You don't have to, love. You feeling good makes me feel good and-"

She pauses her words, because your doe eyes make whatever was left of her resolve break, the instant she looks into them.

"Alright, baby. Go ahead, touch me.. I need you, too." A smile breaks out onto your face, hands gravitating towards her belt, undoing it as fast as she can complete her sentence to satisfy you.

One of your hands slips down between her legs, watching as her eyes close in bliss at the first light drag of your fingers down her heat.

"Fuck.." Her head gets thrown back while her eyes shut at the amount of pleasure and love you have for her in that very moment. Tess curses under her breath as you begin slow circles on her most sensitive part of her body, goosebumps trailing all over her skin.

"Now who's the needy one?" She glances back up to your eyes, and just like that, her intimidating demeanor returns.

You almost yelp aloud when she pushes a finger inside of you, but her lips press against yours before you could do so. The fervent exchange of moans between each swirl of your fingers, and each thrust of Tess's fingers inside of you makes the moment feel infinite.

Everything you've ever wanted, you finally had.

She was yours to touch, to hold, to please. Tess gave you all of her, completely and irrevocably.

"Tess.. fuck, I love you.. I- never wanna be with anyone else but you.." Your tone of voice is pitched higher, submerged in the pleasure she brought. She could tell you were inching closer to release with every swirl of her fingers.

"I love you, baby. With everything inside of me. It's you. Only you.. Now be a good girl and come with me."

"Are you gonna-"

"Yeah, I am. Fuck- keep going, just like that. Cmon, baby." The hand that wasn't inside your pants snuck up to your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling in silent demand.

Sighing dreamily, Tess pulled her fingers out of you and rubbed incessantly at your precious bundle of nerves, triggering your hips to rock against hers.

"Tess.." You moan out loud, almost too loud for the people downstairs to hear, but at the same time, you don't care. Not when Tess is giving you the most pleasure you think you've ever experienced in your life.

"I love it when you moan my name.. Say it again." Her fingers swirl to no end, feeling a jolt of pleasure wash through you as your high began to rush towards you.

"Tess, fuck. Oh my god Tess- baby I'm gonna come.." Your sounds are uncontrollable now as your release is beckoning you further.

"Yeah, hun? Gonna come for me?" Your hand speeds up your movements on her sensitive bud of nerves, another low moan leaving her chest, dripping with desire.

"Oh, baby, I'm-I'm.."

"Me too baby, yeah..." Tess calls out, her movements on your clit pushing you over the edge, her high washing over her intensely.

A few more filthy moans leave your chest, release crashing over you like a wave, running throughout your body with relief, your partner helping you ride it out before you finally look back up at her.

Sweat adorns her skin, chest heaving as she pulls her fingers from your pants. You do the same, only watching as she licks her fingers seductively. Another wave of pleasure threatens to overtake you, just by watching her do that.

"Holy shit... that was amazing. I knew your hands were good for more than just holding a gun and punching people." Your head tilts back the slightest bit as you try to catch your breath after the immense pleasure washed over you only moments ago.

"For our first time, that's nothing compared to what I've been thinking about doing to you for months now.." The smirk on her face threatens the rise of arousal again, though you're too exhausted now to even think about doing that, with what a long journey you've got ahead of you.

"You-" Tess raises an eyebrow at your speechlessness, "are the most beautiful woman in the whole world, and you chose to love me. Isn't that something."

Your words make her blush again, leaving a few small pecks on your cheeks, before pressing one to your lips again. Then, Tess's hands reach to your pants once more, doing the zipper up and buttoning them so she could do the same to hers.

"Well, I don't think we choose who we love. But if it was.. it's because you're the most perfect person in the world. Isn't that something.."

You look to Tess with a soft smile, one that makes both of you appreciate the domesticity of your conversation at hand.

"Yeah, it is," You say, taking her hands in yours and interlocking your fingers together, "So, what does all this make us?"

You catch Tess staring into your eyes again, and it takes a second for her to respond.

"Well, I'm already in love with you, so whatever you want, I want it too. I'm all in, for you. That sound good?"

God, you've waited forever to hear those words.

Attaching your lips with hers, it's a slow, soft kiss, almost stopping time with how you craved more every second that went by. As you pull away, Tess looks radiant in the sunlight that's pouring through the window even more now.

Her words turn you speechless, already knowing you called her 'mine' but hearing it from the velvet voice of your lover made your heart swell ten times bigger.

"It sounds wonderful, Tess." You lean in for another kiss, soft and sweet, until you pull back again, "You'll have to teach me how to open wine bottles, though."

"Nah, I think I'd rather just keep doing it for you." Your lips locked in another kiss, one you wished would last forever.

"Oh, one more thing," Tess goes digging in her back pocket, pulling out a blue tube, "Deodorant. You stink like sex."

"And whose fault is that?" You quip, grabbing the tube from her and rubbing it under your armpits.

Tess shrugged, almost pulling you in for another kiss, until the sound of a male voice from downstairs snapped both of you out of the daydream.

"Shit, Joel. He's gonna be mad that I took so long up here.. that-that we took so long-" You begin to speak, pulling yourself from the bed, reaching down to slip your boots on.

"Joel Miller is not gonna say anything when he sees that hickey." Tess mumbles, standing from the bed as well, adjusting her shirt from where you'd grasped it before.

"What mark? Oh, Tess.. you didn't.." You rush over to the mirror hanging on the wall, and pull your collar to the side abruptly to see the darkening purple bruise on your neck. You scoff, only buttoning up your shirt with haste to get out the door.

"I did. Couldn't help myself, you know. You're all mine now, had to make sure everyone in Boston knows you're spoken for."

She walks up behind you, placing her hands on your hips as you continue buttoning the flannel up. You scoff, flipping your head around to kiss her on the lips again.

"Yeah, well did you have to make it so dark?" You questioned, knowing she could've gone lighter but didn't.

"You already know the answer to that. Now c'mon, let's not keep the man waiting." Tess pulls you by your hand to the door, looking back once more as you exit the room and walk down the stairs with her hand in yours.

Just as you thought he'd be, Joel was pacing downstairs with his pack already on his back.

"There y'all are.. was starting to get worried about- Oh." The tall, Texan man clears his throat when his eyes spot the mark on your neck, eyes immediately avoiding yours.

"Yeah.. I'll grab our packs and meet you outside. Cool?" Tess says, before sharing a look with Joel, not saying anything more as he turns to walk out to the front yard. Her hand slips from yours every so slightly, and you already miss the warmth and love in her contact the second it drops from you.

"Hey, wait- where's Frank?" You call out to Joel, but he's already to the gate of their yard before he can hear you.

"In here!" Frank's voice comes from the living room, and you saunter over to him.

"Hey, morning. Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything. What you said to me last night, and just your hospitality and all you're gonna help us with when we start working together. I mean it- I'm really grateful."

Frank looks up from the vinyl he's sifting through, and meets your eyes with a compassionate smile.

"I take it this morning went... well?" He gestures to the mark on your neck, one of your hands going up to sheepishly cover it, a bit embarrassed that you let her go that far.

"Oh, um. Yeah, very well. I did that thing we talked about." As soon as the words hit his ears, he's grinning from ear to ear and throws his arms around you with a tight embrace, one that caught you off guard, but you hugged back, nonetheless. The smile is still beaming on his face as he pulls away.

"I knew it would go well. You two.." He shakes his head, hands on his hips, "Sparks were basically flying over lunch yesterday, every time one of you looked at each other.. Wait- Is that my shirt? Nevermind, keep it. Looks better on you anyway."

Frank laughs at the realization that you didn't have fresh clothes after showering, so he understood.

"Seriously, thank you. For everything, again."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm such a matchmaker. Now go, run to your lover, and never let her go, okay? She's one special woman."

"Yeah, that she is.." Your gaze shifts from Frank to Tess appearing in the doorway with your pack in her hand.

"Oh, one more thing." Frank hands you the books you'd taken down from their shelves last night, Little Women and Pride and Prejudice. "Don't worry, Bill said it's alright. He doesn't read classics, anyways. You'll come back, and we'll trade."

That's the last thing Frank says before Tess beckons you back to her.

"You ready to go? Joel's gonna lose his marbles if we make him wait any longer, so.." Tess asks you, standing a few feet away, but it felt like miles before you could get back to her.

"Oh, God forbid a man wait on two fine ladies, such as yourselves." Frank says, turning Tess's way as you walk towards her, grabbing your pack from her hand and putting the two books into it, before slinging it onto your back.

"You make a good point, but he's gonna be grouchy the whole hike. He'll be done with our lovesick asses once we get back to the QZ." You say with a giggle, pressing a quick kiss to Tess's lips.

"Well, it's been lovely having you here, I'm not sure where Bill's run off to, but I'm sure he says goodbye as well. I'll walk you to the gate, since there's an idea I have as to how we can communicate back and forth on the radio.. I'll tell you on the way."

Frank follows you both out the door, spotting Bill already at the gate, the same holster with his pistol sticking out from his otherwise plain outfit.

As Joel finally spots the three of you coming from the house, he darts right out of their front yard, b-lining for the gate.

"Guess he's got a new friend..." You mutter to Tess, Joel's steps bringing him towards the gate faster than you three were walking.

"Maybe he just doesn't wanna look at the huge hickey on your neck." She retorts, her reasoning better than anything else you came up with.

Chuckling, you nudge her side, hands falling beside each other's before locking your fingers together again.

Frank catches up, walking alongside Tess as he begins to explain his idea for communication back and forth.

"So, I had this idea that we should use codes for the radio, in case anyone's listening."

"That's a good idea. Like, with what?" Tess tilts her head over to the man in curiosity.

"I was thinking, like, the decades. Like- 80's, trouble, of course." Frank states, as if he's put immense thought into something as simple as this.

"Yeah..?"

"70's- for when we get new stuff to trade with.. and 60's for not having anything new. Sound good?"

"Yeah, Frank. That's actually really clever. I mean, I wouldn't have thought of that. Right, babe?" It's the first use of any pet name around people, and you can tell it puts Tess in a lighter mood just by hearing you say it.

"Right. Well, radio back to me when you guys are ready to start our business together." He reaches out to shake Tess's hand, "Otherwise, it has been lovely having you three here, and I'm so ecstatic to have you back whenever." Frank stood still, watching you all walk ahead.

The sound of Joel's boots on the pavement approaching you all force you to turn your heads towards the third partner in your group.

"What are y'all lookin' at? Let's head out, already. Whenever you lovebirds are done.."

Grumpy exterior, but an ally, all the same.

"What are we gonna do with him..."

"Yeah, he's not nearly as much fun as you." Nudging her shoulder again, your bottom lip catches between your teeth for a slight moment. Tess's hair is blowing in the wind slightly, and you can't help but smile at the beauty of the woman you called the love of your life.

You share a look between Tess's eyes and your own, before tugging her along as you walk ahead, attached by a soul tie at your hands, linked together for a lifetime.

#ryesff #devnmon writes #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopolous x female reader #tlou fanfic #tlou #lesbian #lgbt #other characters for exposure: #Joel Miller #Ellie Williams #The Last of Us fanfiction #tlou smut #The Last of Us #anna torv #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #bella ramsey

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 23)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 24

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Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 12,675

Summary: It’s been more than a year since Madrid and even longer since the chaos of Colombia. As they settle into a new life in Laredo, their past no longer holding them back, Javier’s career change helps him reconnect with his roots whilst Horacio’s plans for the future of the farm and ranch start to take shape.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Smut (including leather/cowboy kink and power dynamics), grief, parental loss, religious themes and symbolism, discussions of period-typical prejudices/violence/politics/legislation, smoking, drinking, swearing.

Notes: Well, here we are at the final full chapter 👀 No one is more shocked than me that I've made it here tbh 😂 For so long, it felt like finishing this fic was an abstract concept, but somehow, I persevered!

I don't really know what else to say right now, other than, an epilogue will (all being well) be posted on Friday 1st March...exactly 3 years after I posted chapter 1. Don't ask me how 3 years have passed, because my brain cannot compute lol.

The epilogue will be much, much shorter than this chapter, but I think it rounds their story off nicely and I can't wait to share ❤️

Thank you once again to anyone still reading, or anyone who may read this at some point in the future. As always, comments/flailings/key smashes etc. are greatly appreciated 😊

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested (and there's plenty to choose from for this one…in fact, I had to split my trivia post into two as I ran out of space, oops lol).

Chapter 23: Desde La Frontera

As the faded blue truck pulled up in the front yard, the moon sat full and high, casting a pale glow over everything beneath it. A key turned in the lock of the sleeping cottage, the silver hue from above illuminating a convenient pathway, negating the need to switch on a light.

Javier shrugged off his boots and jacket in the kitchen with a weary sigh and deposited his keys in a dish on the table. The hand-painted ceramic bowl had been sent with love from Madrid as a housewarming gift, along with framed artwork of the city they left behind that hung above their bed, a bottle of olive oil, a small jar of saffron, and some homemade turrón.

It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to Señora Romero, the café or their apartment. For all of the unanswered questions they arrived in Spain with, it became their safe haven. Although they were under strict instructions not to leave it too long before visiting again, and who were they to turn down good company and an endless supply of hot, fresh churros?

The rustic limestone cottage had less square footage than the farmhouse next door but was over two stories rather than one. A decked porch ran along the perimeter with wooden chairs and plants at the front, facing a complex of outbuildings and stables. A swing seat big enough for two resided at the back, looking out onto a medium-sized garden with a chicken coop and the rolling farm fields and river bank lying beyond.

The front door opened into a hallway where boots, coats and hats were tidily stored – at Horacio’s insistence – which led to a spacious kitchen/dining area and an adjoining utility room with a door to the garden on the other side. A second hallway branched off the kitchen towards a lounge with a centrepiece stone fireplace and a staircase up to two bedrooms – a master and a smaller spare – and a bathroom.

Whilst the interior still needed some work, fresh coats of paint – off-white for most of the rooms with splashes of eggshell green in the kitchen – and the exposed ceiling beams restored with an oak oil stain gave the place a new lease of life.

The wall clock opposite the kitchen window ticked past 3:00am. Fuck, no wonder Javier felt so beat. He manoeuvred his way upstairs, slow and careful, to avoid the creakiest boards. They may have stripped and waxed the floors, but that apparently didn’t cure the squeaking of the well-worn wood underfoot.

He must have succeeded on this occasion, as it wasn’t until he got to the top that he was met with Luna’s wagging tail. He whispered a greeting to her and rubbed behind her ears until she returned to her sleeping spot beside Sol and Leo, who hadn’t even stirred. Sometimes, the trio would bed down for the night here. Other times, it was just Luna. Rarely, it was none of them now that they had two new rivals for Chucho’s affections next door.

Kira was a six-month-old Great Pyrenees, her thick coat a solid white with pale tan patches. Fuego, a male copper red and white Border Collie, was a couple of months older and already chomping at the bit to get amongst the cattle. Although they both still had to undergo a lot of training before they would be put to use on the ranch, Javier and Horacio got the distinct impression Chucho enjoyed being kept on his toes again.

Javier finally reached his destination but gave himself an extra few seconds to take in the view.

Horacio was nestled beneath their sheets on his stomach, his torso rising and falling in a calming rhythm that Javier was convinced could have lulled him to sleep if he wasn’t standing up.

He undressed, throwing every item of clothing straight into a rattan hamper in the corner of the room, keenly aware he needed to shower but too tired to do anything about it now.

Instead, he perched on the edge of the bed, basking in Horacio’s long eyelashes, rough stubble and unrulier-than-usual hair that was tantalisingly close to becoming a head of curls if he didn’t get it cut soon. Not that Javier was complaining.

He tried to be restrained and let Horacio sleep, but he was only human.

A faint groggy sound came from Horacio’s throat as delicate lips met his forehead, his lashes flickering until they couldn’t resist any longer.

Javier hushed as he gently crawled on the bed, draping himself over Horacio and kissing the nape of his neck. “Sorry it’s so fucking late. Just go back to sleep.”

“You’re making that difficult right now.” Horacio arched his back in response to the warm breath tickling his bare skin as Javier’s mouth worked between muscular shoulder blades.

“Shouldn’t be so irresistible.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No. I’m not.” Horacio twisted around far enough for Javier to slide off his back and onto the mattress, allowing them to properly embrace. And so Horacio could put his own mouth to use.

That was as far as it was going for the night, though. Horacio had an early start in the morning, and Javier didn’t want to fall asleep before they could finish.

“Did it all go okay?” Horacio asked once they had got comfortable.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, there was a delay with the paperwork, as usual. But once we were on the road, it was fine. Heavy traffic around San Antonio, but I almost had the I-35 to myself on the way home.”

“And the family?”

“Exhausted and drained, obviously. Fuck knows when their hearing will be. But at least they’re together again and safe for now.”

Javier wasn't only clueless about the date of the hearing, he couldn’t predict the outcome of it either. That wasn’t his remit. By the time the Torres Fuentes family were in front of an immigration judge, he would have helped countless more families and individuals like them. Their circumstances weren’t always the same, but their options were just as limited.

Not all days – or nights – were like this one. Sometimes, Javier would be on translation duties on the frontline of the border, triaging and directing people towards help, whether it be medical attention, food, water, toiletries, a change of clothes, a shower, or a bed for the night. Or, more than likely, access to a lawyer. His and the fleet of other aid workers for charities, not-for-profits and NGOs would be some of the first non-threatening faces new arrivals would see once the INS was finished with them, and that wasn’t a responsibility he took lightly.

Other times, he would deliver bond money to detention centres in exchange for someone's freedom, help people fill in forms and paperwork, or run community outreach sessions, reminding people of their rights. He had even hosted several families at the guesthouses for a night or two until safe transportation could be arranged for travel onward to relatives or sponsors elsewhere in the States. Flights were usually not an option for most due to a lack of papers, so the preferred method was long car journeys split between drivers like Javier. No two days were ever quite the same because no two stories were ever the same. There were commonalities, but subtle nuances and complications came with the territory of human lives.

“You did everything you could to help them.”

“I know. Just makes you realise how fucking…fragile it all is. And how fucking lucky we are.”

There was no denying luck – and money, of course – played a role in Horacio securing a visa and the Holy Grail of a green card for being an investor in the States. But Javier had also utilised an old contact at the US Embassy in Bogotá to expedite Horacio’s application. Her name was Colleen, and she had, with great reluctance, helped him secure visas for several informants in the past.

The silence over the line when Javier had uttered Horacio’s name was long, loud and awkward. But just like with his informants, she didn’t ask any questions and did him one last favour on the proviso she never heard from him again.

“We are. And I’ll never forget that.” Horacio’s palm connected with Javier’s cheek, flecks of moonlight highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. “You look exhausted, too.”

A soft chuckle filtered through the shadows. “Thanks. Sorry for waking you, though. I know you’ve gotta be up early.”

“Yeah, which is why I’m glad you did wake me. Once I’ve done the usual rounds, I’ll probably be in meetings most of the day. So, I won’t see you until late.”

“Better make the most of you now, then.”

Lingering kisses followed, but they knew it was fruitless to fight the fatigue.

“How’s everything going with the business plan?” Javier asked once he had accepted defeat.

“So far, so good. I want to go through everything with your father again before everyone arrives. Just to make sure he’s happy with it all.”

“I’ve, er, got it on pretty good authority he is.”

Horacio rolled his eyes. “I know. But it’s his money invested in this place as much as ours. And it’s not like I’m the expert.”

“Not yet. And he trusts you. They all do. You’re no longer a new face around here, remember.”

“I know. But I’m still learning the ropes, and I’m not the one in charge anymore.”

“You sure about that?”

There was a suggestive edge beneath the drowsiness in Javier’s voice. If Horacio looked hard enough through the darkness, he would have seen a quirked brow thrown his way.

“Well, I still have my moments.”

Javier mumbled a lazy hum of agreement. “I’ll say. But don’t worry about tomorrow, okay? You’ll be fine. Trust me.” He managed one last kiss for good measure, even though his eyelids were getting heavier by the second.

A muffled “I do” was pressed into the shell of Javier’s ear as he flipped his body around, his back cushioned against Horacio’s chest. Calloused fingertips weathered by hard labour nowadays rather than a trigger found their home resting on the curve of Javier’s stomach, eliciting a meditative sigh from both as they huddled down.

It didn’t matter that one of them would be up soon with the dawn chorus while the other might be called away past the midnight hour. Because they knew how lucky they were, not only after all they had been through but compared to so many who crossed the border to start a new life. And it was impossible to take that for granted.

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For all that had changed, wall-to-wall meetings and stacks of paperwork were two guaranteed constants to remain. No matter the career path Horacio chose, he was apparently destined never to escape their clutches.

The morning and most of the afternoon – with a short break for lunch – had been spent poring over business plans, maps and spreadsheets with Chucho, his accountant, Miguel, and the ranch and farm managers, Marco and Félix.

Horacio was still adjusting to being the least qualified person in the room again. But the fact that he was even privy to such meetings in the first place was a privilege not customarily afforded to ranch hands without much experience under their belts. It was hard to gauge what others thought about his…unique position here. But he was also an investor whose name, along with Javier’s, was on the title deeds of the farm. Even if people didn’t know about them, it stood to reason that he would be consulted about any development proposals.

Between his money and the safety net of his connections – whatever some may have speculated the precise nature of those were – to a well-respected ranching family, Horacio, so far, hadn’t had too many problems. Not even when shadowing or attending training courses off-site, and he was surrounded by heavy Texan drawls and the type of man who had the propensity to make his feelings clear with his fists – or a gun – if he found out a fellow rancher shared a house and bed with another man.

But the odd off-hand comment had made Horacio wonder if they knew more about his past employment than he realised. In which case, perhaps in their eyes, getting on the wrong side of the former head of Search Bloc wasn’t a wise move.

Regardless, this was what he had signed up for. And for all his investments and networking, there were no cutting corners in ranch and business management, beef production, animal science and equine studies. The Peñas were far from the only family business in the industry, and most had grown up a lot more hands-on than Javier. Horacio could never have leapfrogged over them even if he had wanted to.

By late afternoon, the meetings were done for the day – although there would be plenty more to come – leaving Horacio and Chucho to check on the pregnant heifers. The calves weren’t due until early April, another month away and just in time for Horacio’s birthday. But it was all hands on deck between now and then to ensure it went as smoothly as possible. Their main job today had been to weigh the expectant mothers, who, thankfully, all turned out to be healthy and on the right track.

Broken shards of light bounced off the ranch’s steel fences and gates as Horacio and Chucho sat on the farmhouse porch enjoying a well-earned break, the sun’s heat beginning to show glimpses of what it was capable of during the summer months. Bluebonnets blanketed the fallow fields, and the saccharine scent of yucca blossom travelled on the early spring breeze.

Chucho stirred a freshly made pot of tea and filled two cups to the brim, sliding one across a wooden table towards Horacio, who accepted with a nod of thanks.

“So, do you think it went okay today?” Horacio asked after a quenching sip of tea.

“Better than I expected, to be honest. Félix worked for Ciro and Malena for many years. I wasn’t sure he’d take to new ownership. Or if he’d even want to stay. But he seems to be on board with the idea of expansion.”

“What about the rest of the workers Ciro and Malena employed?”

“A few moved on or retired. But most don’t care who’s in charge as long as they're getting paid.”

“And what about here? Have many left or cut ties since…” Horacio trailed off, hoping he had done enough for Chucho to follow his train of thought without saying it out loud.

“Not many, no, Mijo. And only the ones I’m glad to see the back of.”

“Not many?” Horacio scoffed into his cup, sending ripples across the surface of his drink. “So, still some, then.”

“As I said…only those I don’t want the ranch to be associated with anyway. It's no loss if they can’t keep their noses out of my family’s business.”

The thing was, Horacio and Javier had everything to lose if the wrong person found out. One phone call was all it would take for the police to be banging down their cottage door. After all, that had happened to plenty of others like them in Texas. It had happened to plenty of bars and restaurants that ended up either raided or burned to the ground, the owners and patrons harassed, arrested, beaten to a bloody pulp, or worse. But Horacio couldn’t bring himself to say any of this to Chucho, so he took extra time swallowing his tea instead.

“From what I’ve heard, the majority see you’re a hard worker. You’re willing to learn the ropes. But you’re not afraid to get stuck in or take the lead if needed. You’re professional with the contractors. And you’re trusted to do a good job. That’s worth a lot around here – a lot more than gossipers. I may not know what it’s like for you both...but I do know not everyone’s like them.”

A smile reflexively spread across Horacio’s lips. “My Mamá said similar back in Manizales.”

Chucho mirrored Horacio’s expression. “She sounds like a wise woman.”

“She is.”

“And proud of you. As I’m sure your father would be. Starting over again is never easy, but what you and Javi have done here…I'm proud, too.”

“Thank you. Me too, to be honest.” Horacio let out a brief huff. “When Javier told me what he wanted to do, it was like the final piece slotted in place. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.” He shook his head this time at how blindingly obvious it was once Javier said it out loud. “But I think he needed to leave to be able to come back again.”

Chucho hummed into his tea. “That’s the thing about the past: you can’t outrun it. And once you let it walk alongside you, I think your path becomes clearer.”

For the second time that afternoon, Horacio could scarcely believe his Mamá and Chucho hadn’t met yet. But he was looking forward to the day that would change.

“A few years ago, I never thought this could be my life. Or that I wanted it to be. But now, even though it’s not easy work, and the hours are long, and I’m starting from the bottom of the ladder again, everything just feels…” He broke off, searching for the right word.

“Simple?” Chucho supplied.

“Yes. Simple.”

After Horacio finished his tea and saddled up Coco ready to help move the herds into the barns before nightfall, he didn’t mind that his legs were stiff from all the sitting in chairs he had done today. Or that the last thing he felt like doing was wrangling contrary cattle.

He didn’t mind that it would be more of the same at the break of dawn tomorrow and a long road ahead of grafting and proving himself. He didn’t mind that he wouldn’t catch up with Javier until they shared a late dinner once Javier had driven back from Austin. He didn’t mind if complete strangers couldn’t stomach what they got up to behind closed doors as long as they were left alone to live in peace.

He didn’t mind any of it because they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

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No matter what profession he worked in, it was rare for Javier to take a weekend off. He’d accepted a long time ago he wasn’t the 9-5 type, and leaving it all at the door once he clocked off had never been an option. But a new batch of aid workers and volunteers had arrived in the last few weeks. And once Luz, his boss, got wind of an upcoming birthday in the team, she insisted Javier finally use up some vacation time.

Luz Díaz was someone Javier could call a friend as well as his boss these days, especially in light of their parallel circumstances. While Luz was an aid worker on the border, she lived with Carla Moreno, the daughter of a dairy farmer several miles to the south. However, unlike Chucho and Elena, their parents, whilst not hostile, preferred to brush their daughters' relationship under the carpet wherever possible.

When Luz accompanied Javier to the guesthouses with a new family one afternoon, she had first crossed paths with Horacio. Until then, Javier had played his cards close to his chest, never knowing whether it was safe to trust anyone. But it hadn’t taken Luz long to put two and two together – or for her to realise she could share her secret in return.

Birthdays had held no real significance for Javier since childhood. But his Pops was determined to invite him and Horacio to the farmhouse for dinner that evening. In the meantime, once Javier had escaped work by mid-afternoon, he headed home to freshen up and grab a drink. It may have been late October, but the Texan heat was a stubborn son of a bitch, and was still hitting the mid-90s several times a week.

A neatly written note was pinned to the fridge that read In corn barn, so Javier took a UTV and headed across the farm. It was quieter now the harvest was over, and the cattle from the ranch had grazed on any leftovers. The herds were back next door, allowing bales of corn stalks to be gathered up and stored ready for use as bedding for the livestock on chillier winter nights.

The latest calves had thrived since April and only had two months left before they would be weaned off their mothers. Usually, several were sold at auction, but they had kept hold of them this time due to the extra space. Now the harvest was out of the way, the next step was to clear the lower fields and build a new gate linking the ranch with the farm.

When Javier arrived at the barn, Horacio was unloading the last batch of bales off the trailer.

Horacio paused for a second when Javier came into view, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Where did you get that?”

“It was on the passenger seat.” Javier gestured to the parked UTV. “Does it suit me?” He tipped the brim of a Stetson to match the one Horacio was already wearing.

Given the similarities between their outfits, anyone would have been forgiven for thinking Javier was an employee. They both wore belted dark blue jeans – Horacio’s more mud-splattered – brown boots and plaid shirts with rolled-up sleeves – Horacio’s brown and white and Javier’s green and red. The most noticeable difference was Horacio wore a white bandana around his neck whilst Javier’s shirt collar was wide open, his neck on full display.

Horacio silently lifted the side of the trailer back up and locked it now that it was empty. He shrugged the protective gloves off his hands one by one and flung them into the cab of his truck.

He followed Javier into the barn and closed the door, but his attention was on the wall opposite. A long row of hooks was hung across it, where various pieces of equipment were kept, including overalls, brushes, and a wide range of horse tack.

On the last hook was a coiled lariat, which Horacio picked up and stood facing Javier several feet away. He threaded the rope through the Honda knot until he held a loose loop in his right hand, his hungry gaze fixed on Javier as his wrist built momentum over his head in measured circles.

Before Javier could react, the tip of the rope found its target, tightening around his waist, his feet involuntarily taking him forward as Horacio reeled him in. Even when they were chest to chest and breathing hard, Horacio didn’t let up his grip on the rope.

“You know it does,” Horacio eventually rasped at the shell of Javier's ear.

Javier shivered at the timbre of Horacio’s voice, the earthy scent of the land combining with the heady musk of sweat, remnants of mud and dust still visible on his face and arms. “Someone’s been practising.”

“Well, it is a special occasion.” Horacio tugged on the rope, pressing their bodies together until his lips found Javier’s neck, stubble scratching along his jawline, finally brushing over his mouth.

Javier took the bait, responding with a full kiss, distracting Horacio enough to drop the rope. Then it was all bets off as his hands journeyed over Horacio’s back, first dipping southwards, palming his ass through his back pockets, then northwards to remove the bandana and roam under his shirt. But something made Javier pause mid-way.

He looked at Horacio for an explanation but was met only with a coy smile.

“Happy Birthday.”

Javier’s brow quirked suggestively of its own accord. “I thought we weren’t doing presents.”

“I can take it back if you’d prefer.”

“Don’t you fucking dare. Now, shut up and drive us home.”

------------------------------------------------------

No sooner were they back at their cottage than Horacio straddled Javier’s lap on the couch, teeth nipping as they grabbed handfuls of fabric or skin.

When Javier made to unbutton Horacio’s shirt, Horacio stilled his attempts. “Not yet.”

Instead, his mouth ghosted over Javier’s as his fingers slid down to his belt, unbuckling it unhurriedly and deliberately.

Their laboured breaths filled the silence, the rich scent of earth and woodsmoke heavy on their senses.

“Touch yourself,” Horacio finally said, his order clear, voice steady.

It was all Javier could do not to come on the spot. But he managed to exhale through his nose, his lips pursed as he wrestled back a semblance of control.

He let his right hand slide down to his zipper, which he knew Horacio had left closed on purpose. He gradually unfastened it, his palm disappearing out of sight.

A hitched breath and tensed thighs let Horacio know Javier had made contact even before Javier’s wrist began to twitch.

For several strokes, Horacio merely observed, drinking in every detail of Javier’s face, each jaw movement and shuddered breath, their eyes locked together as Javier took himself in hand.

Horacio couldn't hide that he was more than a little affected by the show beneath him, so he upped the ante, his fingers seeking out the buttons of his shirt, popping the top one first, then the second, third and fourth.

He stopped there, giving Javier another sneak peek of the surprise he had planned for more months than he cared to admit. He could see Javier had noticed the tantalising glimpses of brown leather drawn tightly against bare skin and could feel Javier’s motions speed up.

The remaining buttons followed, allowing the shirt to fall over the broad expanse of Horacio’s shoulders until it hit the floor.

“Fuck.” Javier’s hips spasmed, slamming against Horacio’s crotch in the process and triggering a chain reaction of panting. “Shit, Horacio. Where did you – how –”

Javier was cut off by a finger at his mouth and a soft hushing sound.

Horacio pressed a digit to Javier’s lips until it was engulfed by wet warmth. “Keep going.”

As Javier’s tongue swirled and his cheeks hollowed, he set back to work, building up friction along the shaft and over the head. It was like a switch flicked in Horacio during moments like this when he was all smoky rasps and concise commands. It was the closest Javier had ever got to experiencing Colonel Carrillo first-hand, and nothing was as intoxicating.

When Javier was being regarded and instructed so intensely, he had no choice but to submit. Anything to please the force of nature who made him come harder than he ever had done in his life. And so, he kept going, fist clenched around his cock, edging himself with each edict echoing in his ears.

Running across Horacio’s chest below his pectoral muscles was a leather strap linked to another one on either shoulder that crisscrossed over his back, his biceps restrained by matching cuffs. The leather was a worn cognac brown with intricate stitching, decorative studs and buckles like the vintage cowboy belts the harness appeared to be made from.

“You like it?”

Javier’s free hand hypnotically reached up to Horacio’s torso, fingers tracing each detail of the leather in between cupping Horacio’s pecs and tweaking his nipples.

“Beautiful,” was the only word he could muster. It was by far the best birthday present Javier had ever had. Although, if he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed Horacio was trying to make this his last one.

Horacio was conflicted between watching and needing more, so he compromised by subtly rocking against Javier’s inner thigh whilst continuing his role as a voyeur. Knowing his voice alone could get Javier off was a power trip Horacio never grew tired of, even after all these years. In fact, since his career change, it had become more arousing because being in charge was a novelty now.

He brought two fingers to Javier’s lips again, which were taken greedily without the need to be told.

“Good, that’s it, and another.”

All three digits rested on Javier’s tongue as Horacio probed back and forth with increasing vigour, leaving no doubt what he had in mind as a string of saliva connected from mouth to fingers when he finally withdrew.

Horacio transferred his glossy hand straight to his chest and across his nipples, flicking the pad of his thumb over each bud just the way Javier liked to lick them.

When Horacio looked back up, Javier was tugging in a frenzy, his breathing ragged and fraying at the seams, dangerously close to it all being over.

Horacio reached out to stop Javier’s wrist, leaning closer until his lips brushed against his ear. “Not before I’ve ridden you.”

Javier immediately extracted his hand from his jeans with a huff of frustration, resenting Horacio almost as much as wanting to be fucked. Every man had his limits, and his were rapidly being reached.

With both hands free, he alternated between hot, smooth skin, the textured leather and cool metal. He slid his fingers beneath the harness, imagining all the positions he could manoeuvre Horacio around.

His hands travelled down to Horacio’s ass, pulling him further into his lap as their mouths crashed together at long last. From glutes to thighs, Javier embraced each one until he met resistance under the denim of Horacio’s jeans.

Javier ran his fingers over it a few times. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Javier growled as he lunged for Horacio’s belt and zipper, both men making light work of removing his jeans.

Whilst Horacio stood up, he took the opportunity to undress Javier and reach over to the drawer beneath the nearby coffee table. He rummaged around until he retrieved what he was looking for and stashed it on the sofa.

There was no holding back now as nails raked over hot skin and tongues connected, rough and harsh, their cocks jutting between their stomachs. Javier’s hands glided over and under the leather straps, descending beyond until his palms massaged Horacio’s cheeks apart, wider with each circular motion, his knuckles teasing up and down the cleft.

The tremor that ran through Horacio was enough to cause Javier’s arm to stretch across the sofa until he located the bottle of lube, expertly flipping the cap open and pouring liberally.

He alternated between his middle finger and thumb in a corkscrew motion, letting Horacio stretch around him, Horacio’s forehead dropping to Javier’s shoulder, teeth grazing flesh as he held their cocks in his fist.

It wasn’t long before Horacio lowered himself, steadily taking inch by inch. He initially held still, experimenting with nudges up and down as he braced his arms on the back of the couch.

A winded noise escaped Javier’s throat as Horacio sunk deeper with more force this time, gyrating his hips until he found a rhythm.

Javier was torn between the mass of muscle and leather at his fingertips but settled for clinging to the front of the harness, pulling Horacio further onto his cock.

A strained grunt left Horacio’s throat, prompting him to re-adjust so his feet were planted flat on the sofa cushions, the change in angle plunging him to new depths. He paused, giving them a chance to catch their breaths. And then, without further warning, Horacio squatted down.

The echo of his ass hitting Javier’s thighs was enough to make Horacio do it again. And again, over and over, the slap of skin on skin louder each time.

One of Javier’s hands scrambled aimlessly around for an anchor, eventually finding the couch’s arm where Horacio’s Stetson had landed earlier in the proceedings.

Javier snatched hold of the brim and brought it towards them, depositing it on Horacio’s head. “Keep it on.”

Horacio was powerless to refuse when it made Javier’s cock twitch and pulsate, massaging Horacio’s prostate as he bounced at just the right angle, his own length sliding up and down the plains of Javier’s chest and abdomen.

Now the hat was in place, Javier's hands sailed over Horacio’s thighs, pausing as he made contact with the leather band around his right thigh. He couldn’t believe Horacio had not only remembered their dirty talk the morning after Trujillo’s wedding but that he had brought Javier’s fantasy to life. And it was better than even his wildest dreams could have imagined.

A part of him wanted to remove the garter just so he could re-attach it. But he was mesmerised by the way the leather stretched around Horacio’s thigh as his pelvis pulsed back and forth, up and down, and round and round.

His fingers gravitated south, landing where the two men joined together. “Fuck,” Javier choked out, rubbing in circles around the wet rim, feeling the thrumming heat of his own cock, and wishing he had a better visual of them moving as one.

“Lie on the floor.” In complete contrast, Horacio’s cadence was calm and in control, like he was directing his horse.

Javier did as he was told, his body cushioned by a thick grey, black, and ivory Zapotec rug.

Without hesitation, Horacio sat atop Javier’s thighs with his back to him, presenting the perfect view as though he had read Javier’s mind. As he re-seated himself, he reached behind, spreading his cheeks wider as he sunk lower.

A strangled whimper was drawn from Javier’s chest as he raised his head for a closer look once Horacio started to move. He ignored the strain in his neck and replaced Horacio’s hands with his own, each palm cupping and squeezing, pushing forward, fingernails clawing, urging his rider to go faster.

In response, Horacio deepened the roll of his hips and balanced his hands on the rug beneath them.

They had picked it out on a trip to San Antonio the previous year, one of their first joint purchases for the cottage. And now they were finally christening it, surrounded by an array of décor and furnishings they had chosen together since. For their own home, an unthinkable notion in the not-so-distant past. Yet here they were against all odds.

Javier grasped the latest addition to their household, pulling Horacio by the harness in all directions as though he was the jinete (horseman) steering the reins rather than the steed being mounted bareback. But Horacio was the one wearing a Stetson. The one in the saddle daily, strengthening and toning his muscles even more than they already were, and Javier could already feel the difference.

He let go of the harness, his fingertips skimming Horacio’s voluptuous upper arms, rump and thighs, caressing the tight leather cuffs, pressing the sharp chill of the buckles against fiery skin until a shockwave rippled through Horacio and straight to Javier’s cock.

As Javier’s hips involuntarily bucked, their rhythm faltering in a chorus of moans, Horacio was beginning to regret not utilising a belt or one of the lariats from the barn as restraints on Javier’s wrists. But he changed his mind when he felt a crisp slap across the ass like a quirt used with overzealous force. But unlike the horses – with whom he was always gentle  – Horacio had no objection to the sting left behind.

In fact, it only spurred Horacio on, his ass lifting higher with each strike, building momentum, one hand stimulating his own cock in tandem.

Javier could feel rather than see Horacio jerking off, and his pelvis began to automatically plough upwards again, trying and failing to keep in time when he was this far gone.

“Horacio,” Javier breathed out, his tone pleading, desperate and wrecked.

“Tell me what you need.” Horacio wasn’t going to make it as easy this time. If Javier wanted something, he would have to use his words.

“I need you on all fours.”

And so Horacio dismounted, willing and waiting to give Javier everything he asked for, a complete 180 in a matter of minutes.

Javier wasted no time and fell in place behind Horacio, lining himself up and propelling forwards with a rough thud, nails digging into hipbones hard enough to leave marks.

As Horacio took himself in hand once more, Javier slowed to bask in a bird's eye view of his cock disappearing and reappearing, his thumbs spreading Horacio wider to get a better look at where they became one. It would have been easy to take it for granted by this stage, but he never did, not when they had been forced apart by circumstance and geography so many times before.

Whilst Javier was distracted, Horacio threw back his hips, causing a hiss of pleasure that inspired him to do it again and again, his ass pounding against Javier’s groin.

Javier drove forward in retaliation, pulling Horacio towards him with a firm jerk on the harness, a dual wave of groans unleashing each time Javier manhandled him, the thick leather straps taut against Horacio’s clammy skin, hopefully leaving imprints from the force.

Javier yanked hard enough to raise Horacio up on his knees, cementing them back to chest, teeth, mouth and moustache going to town as Horacio craned his neck to meet the onslaught.

“Do you know how fucking good you look like this? How…fucking…beautiful?” Javier’s declaration was broken up with each thrust as he resumed movement.

“It’s all for you,” Horacio purred between lip bites. “Your own cowboy to play with.”

With a muttered “Fuck,” Javier pushed Horacio back down on all fours, toppling his Stetson to the floor, one hand gripping at the harness, the other at the nape of Horacio’s neck, his fingers fondling the gold chain that complemented the silver one at his own breast.

His hips hammered forward, no holds barred, as an all too familiar pressure built and threatened to consume him any second now. He glanced down, transfixed by his own fluid motions, entranced by how well Horacio held his cock, how Javier had tamed a once wild bronco who would have thrown off any other rider a long time ago. But not him, never him, so maybe he was more of a vaquero than he thought.

A combination of the visuals, the leather against his skin, and the tight heat squeezing and releasing around him took its toll. Javier let out a wounded gasp as though all the air had been knocked out of his lungs, his muscles tensing from head to toe as he watched his cock spasm and fill Horacio up.

As liquid warmth painted Horacio's walls, his wrist jolted and shook, sending him over the edge. He felt an extra weight on his back, the harsh scrape of teeth and words of encouragement at his ear as a hand took over from his own. Just the right pace and force, just how he liked it, just enough to make him coat Javier’s fingers, vision blurred, back arched.

They didn’t move as the room came back into focus, letting their lungs and heart rates return to baseline. Before Horacio could collapse to the floor, Javier slowly pulled out, smearing glistening fingers around Horacio’s fluttering hole, mixing it in with his own release. His tongue swirled and lapped from behind, making Horacio tremble on his knees until they buckled, and he could take no more. 

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The spark of a lighter and deep exhales of smoke were the only sounds to be heard for several minutes as they lay recovering in bed, the hard floor downstairs proving too much for their aching limbs, even with the rug for protection.

“So, are you gonna tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“Oh, come on. You know fucking well what.”

“Do I?”

“Yes.”

“Does it matter?”

“Well…no. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“Surprised you haven’t guessed. In fact, I kinda thought it was you dropping a hint.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It was one of your old magazines that gave me the instructions on how to make it. And it’s not hard to get access to leather around here. The saddlers the ranch uses are well-stocked in almost everything. They don’t need to know what it’s being used for.”

Whatever Javier had been expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. When moving into the cottage, he had cleared out his old bedroom. Hidden in the depths of his wardrobe, beneath several layers of clothes, was a pile of magazines he never had the heart to throw away or burn, one of which was a Cowboy and Rodeo Special of Drummer.

Javier blew out a low chuckle as he passed their cigarette across the bed. “I wish I had been dropping a hint. Although…looks like you did fine without my influence. Always the dark horse.”

"Hey, they're your magazines, not mine."

"You read them. Cover to cover by the sounds of it."

"Just making up for lost time when I was younger."

"At least someone's getting use out of them. So, you ready for your first rodeo, now? Based on this afternoon, I'd put in a good word."

"Very funny."

Although, whilst Javier was, of course, joking, there were plenty of men like Horacio who did compete across Texas – without hiding who they were as well. He imagined Horacio would rather die in a stampede of raging bulls than partake in such a competition. But nonetheless, it was an appealing fantasy for Javier to indulge in from time to time.

His fingers traced patterns over Horacio’s thigh where the leather garter remained even after the harness and cuffs had come off, the leftover scent of sweat and semen on their skin fusing with the tobacco in the air. He had taken great pleasure and care in removing those; however, when it came to the garter, Javier placed a ring of kisses where the leather sat but left it in position.

“You liked it, then?”

Javier gave Horacio an incredulous look as though the answer spoke for itself. But there was a hint of uncertainty behind the question, and it was only fair to provide reassurance. “I loved it. A lot. I don’t really do birthdays, but you’ve certainly made this one memorable. So, thank you.”

"My pleasure," Horacio murmured mid-kiss. "And it definitely beats my birthday."

"That wouldn't be hard."

The first few hours of Horacio's birthday were spent helping deliver calves and bedding down close by the expectant mothers every night for the following two weeks. He barely saw Javier other than at meal times, and it took multiple showers to wash the pungent barn aroma out of his hair.

“Hadn’t we better shower soon?” Horacio said with reluctance once they pulled apart. “Don’t wanna keep your father waiting.”

Javier leaned over to look at the clock on the bedside table. “Yeah, we should. I’m starving now we’ve worked up an appetite.”

“Do you want to do the honours?” Horacio gestured towards his thigh.

“Keep it on.”

Horacio could tell from the wicked glint in Javier's eye he wasn’t joking. “You do know I have to work with your father? And look him in the eye.”

“Oh, come on, he won’t even notice. Not everyone checks you out as much as me, y’know. Especially not my Pops. And…” Javier sat up and swung his leg across Horacio’s thigh until he was straddling him. “It is still my birthday, remember.”

Despite such brazen tactics, Horacio met Javier’s mouth again, groaning gently as Javier’s teeth pulled on his bottom lip. “Fine. As long as you can keep your hands to yourself through dinner.”

“I’ll try my best.”

He could make no such guarantees after dinner, though.

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It took another week for the temperature to cool by several degrees, just in time for the residents of Laredo to visit neighbouring pumpkin patches, carve out Jack-o’-lanterns and go Trick-or-Treating.

By the time Javier had finished work and picked up some groceries, Chucho was busy in the lounge blanketing a table with a white lace cloth before arranging two extra tiers on top decorated with papel picado. Nearby trays were full of items ready and waiting to be placed on the ofrenda, including a Talavera pitcher of water, pan de muerto, a plate of salt, fresh marigolds, Calaveras, and a familiar wooden box.

Chucho looked up at Javier, who stood in the doorway with a cardboard box. “Ah, Javi, good timing. Pass those here.”

Javier held out a batch of fresh buñuelos delivered straight from Desde La Frontera. “Need a hand?”

Chucho looked at Javier with pleasant surprise. “Please, Mijo.”

Between them, they transferred everything from the trays to the table, Chucho directing where each item needed to be placed.

When it came to the wooden box, Chucho sat on the sofa to open it.

Javier watched silently from a few feet away, an ache forming in his chest when he saw the photos spread out on the furniture. But he pushed past it and sat in the adjacent armchair.

He looked closer at the pictures and reached into the pocket of his leather jacket. “This needs to go on it too,” he said.

Chucho glanced up to see Javier clutching Mariana’s poetry book.

“Of course. She can tell us how much she liked Madrid. Which reminds me…”

Chucho stood up and disappeared into his bedroom before reappearing with a card in his hand. “I always keep it by my bed, but it belongs on here.”

Chucho was holding an old prayer card of La Virgen de Guadalupe. “Abuela Rosa gave it to your Mamá for her quinceañera, along with these. ” Chucho lifted a string of rosary beads from the wooden box. “I think she cherished the card as a reminder of our ancestors. Even though your Abuela disapproved, your Mamá had her own ideas about Guadalupe.” He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head with fondness.

“How do you mean?”

“Back in the '60s, Guadalupe became the mascot for the farmers’ union protests – the ones your Mamá marched on. She liked to think of her as someone who helped those in need. Do you remember her reading stories about the Aztecs? And Guadalupe, La Malinche and La Llorona?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Javier blinked, keeping his eyes closed for a fraction longer than was customary. The memory was fuzzy around the edges, but he could feel the warmth of his mother lying beside him on his bed, a book between them as she read aloud tales of their ancestors. Once he started getting drowsy, she would sing to him or stroke his hair and kiss him goodnight, the comforting sound of her favourite telenovelas drifting through his bedroom door as he fell into a deep sleep.

When he was even smaller and couldn’t sleep after his older cousins convinced him La Llorona had been spotted in Laredo the previous night, his Mamá soothed him with the advice she had been given by her mother to always pray a Hail Mary and an Our Father whenever near water before making a sign of the cross for protection.

However, Javier also remembered during the first few months after she was gone, he would have nightmares about La Llorona. Except in those dreams, his Mamá had taken on the appearance of the wailing spirit, and her ghost roamed along the banks of the Rio Grande, screaming for him. But no matter how hard he tried to get closer to her, she would move out of reach until he woke up screaming.

“There have been so many versions of those stories since the days of the Aztecs, who knew Guadalupe as Coatlalopeuh, Tonantzin, or Coatlicue. La Llorona as Cihuacoatl. And La Malinche as Malinalli or Malintzin, or La Chingada. Some of those stories say they are all one and the same. And that the conquistadors made Guadalupe the Madonna above the others. Your Mamá saw Guadalupe as a symbol of hope, a mediator between the Aztec and Catholic religions, uniting all the different parts of us and our roots. The light and the dark, the old world and the new, the conquered and the conqueror, the obedient and the rebellious, the eagle and the snake, the Mexican and the American.”

“Never thought of it like that when I was younger. But it’s beautiful.”

“It is.” Chucho stood up and placed the prayer card on the altar.

“D’you think it’s possible, though? To unite it all, I mean.”

“I think we have to try as much as we can. And learn to make peace with it when we can’t. But I know it’s not easy.”

“Mexico didn’t seem far enough to run when I took the DEA job, even though it was never home. So, Colombia it was.” Javier couldn’t help but laugh at his own confused logic in hindsight. “But when we were in Manizales, I kept thinking about all the stories you told me about our family history – in the US and Mexico. And it just…hit me I was needed right here on the border. So, thank you, Pops.”

“For what?”

“For reminding me of my roots.”

“Your Mamá helped out a lot here, but she always wanted to do more. And she would have done a whole lot more if she’d had the chance. She’d have fought for yours and Horacio’s rights too, I’m sure of it. I had a feeling you’d take after her one day.”

“Better late than never, right?”

“Right. She’d be so proud of you and your work, Mijo. And so am I.”

A customary exchange of nods filled the silence that had become a trademark between father and son over the years when words seemed inadequate.

Chucho cleared his throat and turned to make one final check everything was in its rightful place on the ofrenda. “I think we’re about ready if you want to get Horacio.”

Javier headed next door with his Pops’ words – and his Mamá’s – echoing in his head. He thought about all the tangled threads that had run through him his whole life like the river he grew up on the bank of. It was ironic he could walk across bridges from Laredo into Mexico and back again, a confluence of his heritage. Yet there was always a gap that wouldn’t close. A gap those who insisted on his name meaning shame with a n rather than rock with a ñ wouldn’t let him close. All of the contradictions and dualities he had tried to reconcile, assuming in the past that he was expected to pick one or the other but never feeling qualified enough, resigning himself to an eternal conflict he could never win.

He thought about the people who crossed the invisible line in the earth every day, the one that instantly changed their identity and status whether they liked it or not, dividing and flattening their humanity into stereotypes and insults. The one that caused mothers separated from their children to cry like La Llorona and be condemned for finding themselves in desperate circumstances through no fault of their own. The one that led to Operations Hold the Line and Gatekeeper building walls and deploying an army of la migra, as Border Patrol were often called, to keep people out.

Maybe it was Javier’s recalcitrance, but the more the US government tried to put up borders – despite not thinking twice about violating those belonging to other countries – the more at ease he felt without them. After all, Texas had been part of Mexico in the past, as well as its own republic, and he had spent more than enough of his life trapped by self-imposed borders and walls already.

To be in a place like Laredo was to live on the margin of two countries and cultures, not one or the other. He was Mexican American, a Tejano. He had shared his heart and bed with women and men. Horacio was a closely guarded secret and a naked truth; they lived in the shadows and in the light. He was making a difference, yet it was a drop in the ocean of an ever-expanding problem. He regretted so much of what went down in Colombia, but not that he went in the first place, not only because of Horacio but because it brought him full circle. It brought him peace. It brought him home.

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As the clock struck midnight and welcomed in Día de los Difuntos, the ofrenda was aglow with candlelight, and the fresh scent of copal filled the farmhouse.

Horacio stood over the altar, his gaze fixed on the image of him in his Papá’s jacket, his father’s usually stern expression relaxed and…proud. He had never really allowed himself to think of that word before. But as the veladoras flickered and swayed across the photograph his Mamá had insisted he kept, he could no longer ignore it.

Beneath the photo lay the golden pendants, temporarily removed from Horacio's neck for the festivities, a glass of his Papá’s favourite rum to match the one in his hand, and a plate of tamales.

“Not bad for a Colombian.”

“I guess I had a good teacher.”

“After dealing with a son determined not to follow in my footsteps, it makes a change to find someone more willing.”

Horacio’s eyes landed back on the photograph of him and his Pops before shifting to one of Mariana in her element at a Chicano civil rights march with a toddling Javier by her side, a bittersweet smile taking hold of his lips. “Funny how it works out.”

“True. But as long as it does, that's the main thing. Even if it’s not what you expected.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“What are we toasting?” Javier asked as he came in from the kitchen with two glasses of his Mamá’s mezcal of choice, passing one over to Chucho.

Chucho gave a nod of thanks and raised his glass. “To endings and beginnings. And reunions.”

The next couple of hours were spent telling stories, reminiscing, remembering. Welcoming the past into the present, letting it know there was still a future.

------------------------------------------------------

Chucho retreated to bed first, leaving Javier and Horacio to finish their drinks by the fire, which had burned down to its last mesquite log.

After placing their empty glasses in the kitchen, Javier stopped by the ofrenda on his way back to the sofa. His eye caught the selection of sugar skulls on display, each delicate design bearing the name of a departed loved one. Although, there were, in fact, two each for Mariana and Eduardo.

Javier traced his finger across the one which read Mariana Rosa Reyes Estrada, a pair of arms gathering tightly around his waist simultaneously.

“I never knew her with this name. She left Estrada behind in Mexico. Before she married, she was Mariana Reyes. Then she took Pops’ name ‘cos that’s the gringo way. And to make all the paperwork easier, I was just a Peña, too. But Pops likes to welcome her home with her Mexican and American names. In case she gets lost, he always says.” Javier released an affectionate chuckle at the expense of his Pops’ superstitions.

“He told me when he asked for my father’s full name.” Horacio smiled into Javier’s shoulder as he reached towards the skull that read Eduardo Horacio Carrillo Acosta.

He repeated the same motion across the shared part of his and his Papá's name. “The CNP prefer you choose one name when you enlist. So, of course, we all followed suit – Mamá included. And she left Sierra behind when she changed her papers.”

“Seems like we all have to leave parts of ourselves behind one way or another.”

“True. But if we’re lucky, we find them again somewhere down the line.”

Javier hummed in agreement as a trail of kisses soothed at his neck.

“When was the last time you did this, by the way?” Horacio asked as he traced idle patterns over Javier’s stomach.

“Día de Muertos? Fuck…I can’t even remember. When I was in Colombia, I always came home for Christmas – but not before. Pops never made a big deal out of it, but I could tell he was disappointed.”

“I’m sure he understood. And at least you’re here now.”

“I know. I think I just needed to do it in my own time.”

“Same here. So, thank you. To you and your father.”

“For what?”

“Letting me be a part of it. I think it’s something I’ve needed to do for years.”

“Horacio, of course you’re a part of it. You’re a part of the family.” Javier’s fingers found Horacio’s, lacing them together with ease above the belt of his jeans. “Tú eres mi familia.” (You’re my family)

“Y tú eres mía.” (And you’re mine)

“I was thinking about tomorrow…well, technically, later today. I, er, wondered if you wanted to watch the parade downtown. Then maybe head over to the cemetery with Pops. It's fine if it’s too much. I get it. I just thought maybe –”

“It’s okay.” Horacio cut him off, turning him around until they were face-to-face then forehead-to-forehead. “I’d love to.”

As the last embers of mesquite turned to ash, they knelt in front of the soft glow of the ofrenda, fingers connecting with their silver cross encased between their palms. A final attempt to welcome home those who had shaped so much of their children's lives, even in their absence, and sometimes in the most unexpected ways.

------------------------------------------------------

Echoes of drumbeats filled downtown Laredo by late afternoon, accompanied by a rainbow of papel picado along every street and a sea of Catrinas and Catrins. Children and adults alike wore masks or calavera face paint and marigolds in their hair, the intricate details of their costumes no doubt requiring months of preparation.

Food and drink stalls had seemingly popped up overnight, selling everything from pan de muerto, pozole and tamales to alegría, gorditas, marranitos and champurrado. It was impossible not to get swept from stand to stand, and fears of Javier and Horacio being scrutinised by anyone they happened to bump into were soon allayed. The hustle and bustle of the festivities made them anonymous yet at one with the city, as they were all here for the same reason.

Floats, dancers and puppets passed through the main roads, a spectacle Javier hadn’t witnessed in years. As a teen, the last thing he felt like doing was celebrating when it came to his Mamá’s passing. She wasn’t supposed to have gone so soon. But nowadays, he could appreciate the care and respect involved in honouring the dead. He could look back on the precious memories and not feel the need to push them away. He could accept the duality of grief and love, not as contradictions but as two sides of the same coin.

As they followed the procession at the end of the parade, making their way towards the cemetery to meet Chucho, Javier caught Horacio’s eye with a silent question. One that Horacio answered with a firm nod, reassurance that they were still on the same page.

So much had changed since Horacio was last here for Día de Muertos, not least of all the fact Javier was with him this time and had since met his family. And Escobar was dead, of course. His Papá was no longer a choking force around his neck but a warm presence that sat more comfortably on his chest. Not weightless, but manageable now.

Although darkness had fallen by the time they arrived at the cemetery, a sea of candles and lanterns lit the gravesides like an endless night sky, each one guiding the way home, even if just for one day. The celebrations from earlier continued, some families singing, drinking and eating. Others prayed or sat with blankets and hot drinks, telling stories and keeping memories alive.

Chucho had been busy when it was still light, clearing out dried flower stems and polishing Mariana’s headstone. Now, fresh marigolds were arranged around the candles, their strong fragrance carrying across the cemetery.

They were greeted with pats on the back and a glass of mezcal. A lowkey toast and short prayers were all they had planned, preferring to save the rest for the privacy of home.

“I just wanted to say thank you. To both of you for coming.”

“Any time, Pops. I’d forgotten how beautiful this place looks all lit up.”

“It reminds me of Día de las Velitas back in Colombia. People light candles and lanterns at cemeteries like this. Not that I could bring myself to join them after Papá.”

“There’s still time.” Javier held Horacio’s gaze through the flickering half-light, making the most of the only gesture he could give in public.

“I know.”

“It’s quieter here usually. A nice place to think. And she’s always been a good listener. So, if you ever need some breathing space, I’m sure she’d be all ears.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Horacio mirrored Chucho’s soft smile before laying down a tasteful wreath of marigolds he’d bought from one of the street vendors on their way here.

Javier watched with a growing warmth in his chest as his past, present and future collided once again. A first meeting of sorts, even if it wasn’t how it should have been. Even if it was built on memories and traditions, on prayers and stories, it was still real.

------------------------------------------------------

Slivers of silver reflected off the dark waters beyond the farm’s boundaries, the stars above shimmering like distant fireflies. Southern Texan Decembers were mild, but there was a chill to the air after sundown, especially by the river bank. However, it was nothing a blanket or two couldn’t fix.

Horacio was propped against a mesquite tree with Javier sitting between his legs, one blanket beneath them and the other draped over them. Coco stood watch nearby, her reins looped around a branch as she chomped on her favourite treat of apple slices – a reward for tonight’s extra work.

They shared a flask of Manizales’ finest coffee between Horacio lightly massaging Javier’s scalp and temples. It had been a hectic few days, from Chucho roping them into Las Posadas preparations to the farm being short-staffed in the past week due to seasonal colds and flu and the border seeing a higher influx of crossings in the build-up to the holidays.

Apart from a Christmas dinner or two, they weren’t expecting to take much time off over the festive period, but tonight was all about them. They had miraculously managed to escape work on time before driving to Desde La Frontera for a meal that was starting to become an anniversary tradition.

Javier played with Horacio’s hands, pressing kisses into his knuckles and pausing over his left wrist. “You like it, then?”

“Very much.”

“I know it’s not quite a garter or harness, but…” Javier trailed off, his shoulders and abdomen shaking in tandem.

“The strap’s the same colour, though.” One of Horacio’s hands snaked along Javier’s form, tickling at the waistband of his jeans enough to make him squirm.

“Oh really? Hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar.”

“Maybe. But it does suit you.”

Of course, Javier was banged to rights. He had spent considerable time picking out the watch, knowing Horacio preferred something digital – for pinpoint accuracy – and practical. Horacio had never got around to replacing his old one that was stopped by the ambush, so it was a long overdue replacement.

But if it also happened to be a gentle reminder of certain escapades every time he looked down at it, well...that was an added bonus. As was the thought of Horacio wearing Javier’s gift buckled around his wrist every day, the strap tight enough to leave a mark on his sun-kissed skin.

“Likewise with your present.”

“I dunno about that. I think you wear it better.”

“You’re the homegrown Texan boy, not me.”

“You’re the fucking cowboy, not me.”

Horacio’s fingers on his right hand took a firmer hold of Javier’s hair, coaxing him to turn around and abandon the flask he had just brought to his lips. “Technically…you own part of the ranch and farm. So, it’s about time you had a Stetson.”

Their lips met over Javier’s shoulder, still warm and tingling from the coffee.

“Fair point.” Javier picked up the flask again and downed whatever was left before it went cold. “We got any more of this, by the way?”

“Not ‘til next week. I told Alejandra to bring as much as she can fit in her luggage.”

“Well, there’ll be plenty of suitcases to choose from.”

“I know. I’m not sure your father knows what he’s let himself in for.”

“Oh, don’t worry, he knows from when my cousins and I were kids. And he gets to play host, so he’ll be in his element.”

“He’s already given me a list of groceries to pick up on the way back from the livestock auction in Hondo.”

“When’s that again?”

“The day before my family arrives. Not ideal timing, but couldn’t really say no to more experience.”

“You still shadowing Gus Montoya?”

“Yeah, he’s been in the trade since he was 16, and he’s one of the best in the business now. I thought I should be involved before we start buying the new Santa Gertrudis and Longhorns for this place next year.”

“The paddocks are gonna be in these lower fields here, right?” Javier gestured towards a recently cleared stretch of land with the newly installed gate separating it from the ranch next door.

“Yes. It’ll be easier to move everything back and forth without disturbing the other fields. Then, once the new herd’s settled in, we can expand the stables, get in some more Morgans and Quarter Horses. Maybe diversify the cover crops for next winter.”

“Sounds good.” An unseen smile had spread across Javier’s face, the novelty of listening to Horacio talk ranch business not having worn off yet. All those years he tuned out whenever his Pops did the same, yet he never tired of hearing Horacio’s plans.

“It keeps me out of trouble.”

“Shame.”

“That’s not until next year, though…” Horacio trailed off, his lips devouring Javier’s neck, nibbling until Javier wriggled in his hold.

“Well, we better make the most of this before your family arrives.”

Horacio hummed in agreement, his mouth still buried in Javier’s shoulder. “Especially as there’s a quick turnaround before New Year’s.”

“True. I take it Felipe and Juana are still okay to come?”

“I forgot to tell you – I spoke to him earlier. Juana’s feeling much better now the morning sickness has passed. And with Cali gone and FARC taking up more and more CNP resources in the jungle, it’s mostly turf wars between the smaller gangs in Medellín. So, Martínez authorised his leave, and they’re flying out on the 30th.”

“Glad to hear it. It’s all good on the Miami front as well. They arrive the same day, late afternoon, once Connie’s finished her shift and Steve’s picked Olivia up from his parents’ house.”

“Okay, good. So, everything’s sorted then.”

“Not quite…I still need to clean out the guesthouses. Don’t think our old one’s been done since the Navarro Vega family left.”

“At least it’s still getting used since we moved out.”

“Yeah, well, I guess someone always needs it. Especially with IIRIRA coming into force. So many more fucking deportations. So many people taking bigger risks ‘cos they've got no choice.” Javier exhaled harshly through his nose.

He ran his fingers over his moustache and chin, pressing his thumb into his jaw and resting his face in his hand. “It’s starting to feel like the old days again.”

“But it’s not, Javier. You’re on the other side of it all this time.”

“It’s not just the border, though, is it?”

“What isn’t?”

“Legislation that could have us arrested for fucking in the privacy of our own home.”

“We’ve always been careful.”

“We thought we were careful back in Colombia, Horacio. And look where that got us.”

Javier didn’t think about those days much anymore if he could help it. Neither man did, except on specific dates or bad days if they were unlucky. But it was hard to shake the sense of paranoia in light of what the laws of his own state had to say about his sex life. It wasn’t far-fetched to imagine someone like Mia Domínguez spying on them through a long lens, waiting to catch them out.

“True. There’ll always be a risk. But people like us have always existed under the radar. And we’ve been here over a year now, remember. Anyone who’s got a problem with us has already made their feelings perfectly clear. The rest either don’t know or don't give a fuck. Our story doesn’t have to end like the one you showed me in The New Yorker.”

“I know.”

Javier had been in two minds about whether to share it. But Horacio insisted he was the one to be read to for a change, preferring to hear the evocative imagery of the wild American landscape from the mouth of a Texan. The parallels were undoubtedly there between the glossy magazine pages and elements of their lives – but luckily, not all of it rang true for them.

“For a start, they were sheepherders from Wyoming,” Javier added with a tone of defiance.

“Exactly. Completely different.”

“Yep.” Javier exhaled loudly, his mind already returning to his previous stubborn thought. "But it’s the same government smoke and mirrors shit all over again. The same fucking hypocrisy. If it's not chasing people down the river or letting them die in the desert, it’s drug shipments they made easier to transport here in the first place. Or you’ve got couples like us crossing over looking for safety, only to run into fucking sodomy laws. It’s never gonna stop.”

It was the same sleight of hand tactics Javier had seen before. Legislation made thousands of miles away would claim to solve a problem whilst exacerbating it on the frontline. Whether it was drugs or human beings, they proved time and time again that they couldn’t be contained by a border or a statute book. Whether it was Border Patrol or the DEA, choppers would fly over the river at night, fruitlessly chasing traffickers despite the extra budget. If the usual border crossings were out of bounds, people would risk more remote or treacherous spots to try their luck.

It wasn’t unheard of for them to emerge from clusters of trees like the one they were sitting in now, drenched and shaking from the cold and dehydration. Or for Javier to be ready and waiting with towels, a change of clothes, a hot shower, or food and drink. Some would present themselves willingly to the authorities, others would disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. If anyone ever asked, Javier had seen and knew nothing.

“And neither are you. Look at all the people you’ve helped already. You might not be able to save everyone, but you’re making the difference you always wanted to make.”

Horacio coaxed Javier to face him again, cupping his jaw and rubbing a thumb over his stubbled cheek. “Estoy orgulloso de ti.” (I’m proud of you)

Javier closed his eyes, basking in Horacio’s touch and closing the gap between them. “Y yo de ti.” (And I of you)

Easy kisses followed – the kind that were grounding and familiar, safe and timeless.

They rode back to the cottage with only the moon and stars guiding the way. Horacio clasped Coco’s reins whilst Javier held onto his waist from behind, making the most of the idyllic evening spent alone. Because even here, they knew it couldn’t always be like this. But despite all that life would throw at them in the years to come, they would be there for each other, to grow and change, to sail in the same direction, even if not always in the same boat. To make peace with the past, to live in the present, and to look to the future on their own terms.

------------------------------------------------------

Burnt oranges and yellows filled the stone fireplace, the crackling of charred mesquite wood accompanying the dulcet tones of Elvis on the turntable. A fresh pine tree stood in the corner opposite a set of bookshelves, its white lights and a row of candles on the mantlepiece casting a soft glow across the lounge.

By next year, they would have to re-think the room's layout as the shelves were almost out of space. They had transferred all of their old books, records and tapes when they moved in – two poetry books in particular taking pride of place – which now sat alongside newly purchased or gifted titles from the likes of Fernando Vallejo, E.M. Forster, John Rechy, Gloria E. Anzaldúa, Alejo Durán, Linda Ronstadt, K.D. Lang, Vicente Fernández, Walt Whitman, Pedro Almodóvar and Gregg Araki. And no doubt there would be further additions to their collection on Christmas Day.

Luna was the sole canine guest tonight, her bond with Horacio somehow stronger again since Kira’s and Fuego’s arrival. Sol and Leo had grown increasingly fond of their new playmates in the last few months, so it was often the three of them in the cottage nowadays. Horacio hadn’t discussed it with Chucho, but he hoped she would stay with them permanently – and see out her retirement years – once the new cattle were in place.

She lay in her favourite chair, fast asleep with her head on the armrest and oblivious to their return home beyond a drowsy wag of the tail, before resuming her dreams.

“You had a good day, then?” Javier asked from the comfort of Horacio’s shoulder, their arms wrapped around each other as they gently swayed to the music.

Horacio let out a contented hum of approval, burying himself against Javier’s shirt, breathing all of him in. “It was perfect.”

“It was.”

“Although…I think there’s one thing missing.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Your present.”

Javier’s chest shook, and something that sounded remarkably like “You fucker” was sworn against the crook of Horacio’s neck, followed by a sharp nip of the teeth.

“It’s only fair.” Horacio tried to keep an authoritative edge to his tone. But it was far from convincing when he ended up laughing as much as Javier.

“Actually…it’s only fair if you wear your hat too.” Another neck bite, accompanied this time by a trail of kisses along the open collar of Horacio’s red plaid shirt, shoving the bandana aside for easier access. “Deal?”

Horacio’s back arched involuntarily, the rumble threatening to escape from his throat tempered into an elongated sigh instead. Not much of a win, but he’d take it. “Deal.”

And so Javier fetched the Stetsons from the coat hook in the hallway whilst Horacio switched records once Elvis had finished.

Javier lowered Horacio’s hat into place, encouraging Horacio to do the same with his.

“Satisfied?” Javier asked once they resumed their embrace, the cumbia beats of Lucho Bermúdez now replacing Elvis.

Horacio’s fingers slid from Javier’s waist to the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him forward until their lips met and the brims of their hats jutted together. “I am now…cowboy.”

They let another vinyl play before undressing, every movement sensual and considered as they removed boots and unbuckled belts between slow, thorough kisses. With hats relegated to the couch for now, Javier untied the silk bandana from Horacio’s neck, teasing smooth fabric along the nape and tossing it to the floor, revealing faded tan lines from the unforgiving summer months. Buttons from their plaid shirts were next, followed by jeans and underwear, chestnut lost in charcoal as they stood bare in each other’s arms but for the silver and gold pendants.

Neither felt the need to give into temptation, not yet, at least. Instead, they put on another record and danced, hand in hand, skin against skin, soul against soul. Because they were never in a rush anymore; now they had all the time in the world. Now they were home.

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fic #My Fan Fic #My Narcos Fic

[kingofthering]

vr46 marc, 890 words taking place a handful of hours after this

"The fact that you were into men or the fact that you were into me?"

Marc snorts, shrugging his shoulders at Valentino's question. The second option implies the first. The first could have easily been converted into the second, if needs be. They both know it.

Valentino's focus is back on his task at hand when he says "I mean, I had an inkling before. Indianapolis sealed the deal, the months after that didn't exactly show signs of the opposite."

"You never said anything."

Marc's tone is not accusatory, not really. Valentino's face doesn't show any reaction to it. He's still kneading his pasta dough.

"I did not."

"Why?"

Valentino pauses, cleaning his hands on a hand towel before reaching for his glass of wine. Marc watches the way his throat works as he takes a couple of sips from the red liquid.

If Valentino says he wasn't into Marc back then, Marc might have to call him a liar just to avenge his bruised ego.

"It wouldn't have been my first time hooking up with another rider, another rival, and let's say it got messy in the past and I didn't want to go through that again."

Marc frowns, his mind immediately trying to figure out who it could have been, some options more disturbing than others. It's easier to go through that exercise than process the fact that Valentino theoretically wanted him.

"Well, I was older already back then, I probably could have protected myself, not get attached, all that. You were 20 years-old, Marc, I didn't want to mess you up."

So too young to not fall in love with Valentino and suffer the consequences of that but old enough to suffer through his mind games and the stupidest of accusations. Valentino's brain will never cease to amaze him.

Or Valentino stopped caring about his wellbeing the moment he had a Championship bike and Marc was too much of a threat for his goal.

It makes sense. Marc doesn't know if it's more painful knowing Valentino willingly gave up on a relationship he cared about rather than thinking he never cared in the first place. And yet, Marc knows he will always take the first option (means it wasn't all in his head, at least).

"You wanted me," Marc says after a while, because there is so much to unpack there but he needs to start somewhere.

Valentino chuckles. "Is that so hard to believe? Look who's fishing for compliments, now."

Marc shrugs, a smile on his lips as he reaches for the bottle of wine to refill his glass.

"You know what you looked like, face and body wise," Valentino indulges him. "You know what you were like on track. You know what you were like adrenaline filled in parc fermé and on podiums."

Marc feels hot, his cheeks heating up. He thinks about Laguna Seca and the corkscrew overtake he borrowed from Valentino a couple of years prior. He thinks about Barcelona, Valentino's hands around his throat and Marc's family watching them. He thinks about Assen, that last corner and how happy Valentino had been afterward.

And in the corner of his brain, that silly little question : Would you have followed me if I'd taken the first step?

"What about after?" is the question that Marc ends up voicing outloud. "Or did I disgust you too much to even consider hate sex?"

No longer caring about Marc's mental wellbeing was one thing but maybe Valentino didn't even want to touch him. Not that Marc ever thought about it before but now, Valentino strikes him as someone who would enjoy hate fucking you. It has to come with how intense he is about everything.

Marc couldn't for the sole reason that he needs to at least like the person he's intimate with. He doesn't need the romantic connection, he's had great friends with benefits situations and he can do one night stands if he had the time to learn about the other person just a bit.

To be vulnerable in front of someone who doesn't wish him well? A concept he can understand for others but not for him.

"Can't say I've never considered it. Especially after moments where you were infuriating, whether from how stupid you were with your words or how good you were on your bike," Valentino says, way too casual for the words pouring out of his mouth.

Again, realizing the effects Marc has had on Valentino in the past, by just being himself, is as empowering as it is frightening, in a way.

"But," Marc says, because the answer to his question is still missing.

Valentino shrugs. He has put their ball of pasta dough away in a salad bowl and covered it with a towel. He's swinging his wine around by moving his glass in small circles on the table, now. "Didn't feel right."

It's not "I knew you wouldn't be into it".

It's not "I wasn't into you anymore".

It's not "I'm the one that would have hurt himself then", either.

Marc needs free range to study Valentino's brain under a microscope.

#rpf #4693 #my writing #vr46 marc au #still refusing to create a gdoc so I keep writing directly on tumblr #final product is not exactly what I had in mind to begin with but eh

[fangirlstorycreator]

Daryl Dixon X Reader

Context: Forbidden Romance! You belong to Shane, but your heart lies with Daryl...💚 Part 2/3

"Damn girl! Your a good shot!" "Well, I've been told I've always had a good aim" "Oh yeh? From who?" "Well I was in a gun club a few years back, and I was hitting bullseyes nearly every shot" "You ain't lyin! You've damn near gone through every glass bottle we had on that fence" "So did you" "Yeh, but noone else in this group can use my crossbow as well as me, I'm impressed" "Is that a compliment Daryl?" He tries to hide his little blush, he pretended to brush it off. "Yeh-well-Lets see if you can hit the one in the far end" You just giggle, you knew you got to him. You and Daryl had been doing this all morning, spending time shooting and chatting, it was lovely. The sound of a car coming back up the driveway made you and Daryl turn to watch, it was Rick and Shane...they were back. But in the back seat....was that Randall? Why wasn't he dropped off? And why do Rick and Shane look all bloodied up? Oh sh#t it looks like they've gotten into a fight while they were out. Rick and Shane lead Randall into the wood shed, and lock him in there before making their way up to the house. You and Daryl both looked as confused as eachother. "Ya'll stay hear, I'll be right back alright?" "Ok" you say as Daryl heads up to the house. Rick and Shane were close, hopefully nothing too serious went down between them....and hopefully it wasn't anything to do with you or Lori. The afternoon went by quick, and when Daryl came back he told you what was happening, and that Randall may know how to get his group hear, which was dangerous.

So he was going to be kept in the wood shed until everyone decides what to do. Your dad and family knew and so did the group, but to be honest that wasn't the most important thing on your mind. You heard nothing back from Rick or Lori about what happened with him and Shane. Or weather Shane listened, and was going to keep his distance or not. Rick was too busy, so you just hoped Shane was busy too. You had walked to the well to grab some water, when Daryl had driven up to you on his impressive moterbike. "Hey! Yah wanna come take a ride with me?" "Really? Why?" "You look like you could use the distraction. Come on, what do yah say?" You felt your chest fill with a light feeling, you hadn't felt this for a long time. Why not? You run up to him smiling, and sit behind him on the bike, wrapping your arms around his waist. The vibrations shake you all over as he revs up the engine, then drives towards the road and on down the long roads away from the farm. It was a beautiful day to go for a ride, the sun was bright, the breeze was warm, and the trees were a lovely dark green colour. Daryl was in his element out hear on his bike, like he was born for it. His body was warm, it was a comfort as you held onto him, you didn't care why he asked you out for a drive, you were just happy he did.

About 20 minutes later, he parks up next to a load of abandoned cars on the side of the road. He helps you off the bike and you follow him to the cars. "Why are we hear Daryl? You think there's some supplies?" "Nope" he says before tossing you a small black tool kit, and kneeling down infront of the first car he sees. "I'm gunna teach you how to hot wire a car" "Really?" "Yeh, it's a valuable skill to learn. It'll help you if y'all ever stuck" "That's uhh...very sweet of you to teach me" "It ain't sweet....it's....for survival!" "Yeh...and just one more question, who else have you taught this skill too?" "Uhhh....just you I guess" "Mhhmm..." "Anyway, let's forget that. Come hear and I'll show you what to do" It was quite cute how he's only teaching you, or at least first...you thought he was acting really nice....he is....really nice....were you starting to fall for Daryl? He spent the next two hours talking you through the process, and you were able to hot wire 3/4 cars. It was so easy thanks to Daryl, there was even a moment where you made him chuckle. You knew a laugh wasn't a sure thing, but a chuckle was the closest thing, it was a wonderful sound. He suggested you drive a car back and tell the others about the rest, more cars could mean safer travel, and you agreed. But he didn't head to his bike yet, he lingered...like he doesn't want to go back yet.

"Daryl? Are you ok?" "I'm fine..." "Then why are you so quiet?" "It's nothin....it's nothin...." He looks a little nervous, his eyes dart between your eyes and your lips, but when he sees you notice that, he steps away and faces the cars instead on you. Was he?....were you making him nervous? And did he look at your lips for a reason? You felt so calm around him, and you won't lie to yourself, you were attracted to him.

Slowly, you step a little closer to him, he turns to face you, looking so lost. "I....I'm sorry" "For what Daryl?" "For...for just being me, I....I have no idea what I'm doin, and..." "Don't apologise for being yourself Daryl....I like who you are" "I like who you are too, I mean...I like...you...but I have no idea how to..." The poor guy looks flustered, you wanted to help ease his tention. Taking another step closer, your right infront of him now, and your hand gently takes his, stroking your thumb over his knuckles. He looks down at your hands touching, like he's trying to avoid your gase, and that's ok, he wasn't used to this, it was obvious. So you slowly, and gently reach your other hand up to his face and cup his cheek so he's looking at you, his eyes were beautiful, and he was so handsome. Both your voices are almost whispers, especially now you were so close. "Uhh...Y/N" "Yes?" "I...I ain't used to this kind of thing...." "It's ok...I can show you...but only if you want too....." He nods, but you want to be sure. "Tell me Daryl" "......Show me....." Gently leaning in closer to his lips, his eyes close and yours flutter shut as the feel of Daryl's lips finaly meet yours in a feather like touch. You wanted to be slow, gentle with him, and you could sence he wanted that to. The moment you started kissing him, his body became less tense, and his fingers interlocked with your hand he was holding. He was growing more and more comfortable with you. His lips were so soft, so inviting, and his kiss was beautiful. He melted into your touch, even moving both his hands to your hips and holding you closer to him.

You could feel his heartbeat rise each second he kissed you back, but once you both got into a rhythm, he kissed you like nothing else in the world matters. He spends so much time helping others, he's always tence, always on edge and his mind never stops. He never stops, but he finaly is now, it's been so long since he's been able to actualy relax, that it feels almost euphoric for him. His hand snakes it's way up to your hair, tangling it into the back of your scalp, deepening the kiss. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable, he was a nervous man, and you didn't want to push him. So the fact that he made that little move, it shows he feels calm around you. Yours and his lips moved together in perfect harmony, like a dance, while taking in his deep scent of cut grass and engine oil. It was earthy, but it was him. His breath was quickening, he was feeling a little overwhelmed with the intensity. You knew he wasn't used to it, so slowly you move back, breaking the kiss, Daryl was breathless, more than you. He didn't let you go, he liked having you this close, but you could tell that kiss was quite a lot for him to experience. Either it's been too long, or he hadn't been kissed like that before. No matter what it was, you weren't going to push him. "I....I won't lie to yah...I've tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss you Y/N..." "You've imagined this?" "Kinda....I never expected it to be better..." You smile warmly at him, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"It's been....it's been a while since....I'm sorry" "No, don't apologise Daryl. I could tell, it's ok, I promise" "How did you know to-" "Pull away?....because I could sence it in you Daryl. I like to think I understand you now. Understand your personality, your boundaries, your needs. And I didn't want you to feel like I was pushing you" "You didn't...not at all...was...was it ok?" "Daryl...I've never been kissed like that before. It was amazing" "Amazingly bad?" "No stupid! (giggle)....Daryl, your a beautiful kisser" He scoffs, blushing slightly. "I think ya'll need your head checked" You laugh, he smiles hearing your laugh, it was like music to him. "What does this moment mean for us Daryl?" "Y/N, I've thought about you like this for a long time, and I won't lie to yah, I did when you told me about Shane" "Oh! Is that why you got so angry?" "Pretty much yeh, but he still doesn't deserve to treat you like that. Anyway...honestly, I don't know what this means. I do wanna be around you...I wanna...I mean this was-" "I understand Daryl. Look, I'm not going to ask if you want to be 'boyfriend and girlfriend' but if you want to continue.." You say as you point to him and you "This. I'm happy with that. And we can take our time with whatever you want to do, whatever you want to try. I'm happy just being close to you, you make me feel something I've not felt in years" "What's that? Annoyed?" You scoff "No Daryl....safe..." His eyes suddenly change, from deep thought to suprise, he certainly wasn't expecting that.

He couldn't help but make a little smile. He takes your hand in his, and stands closer to you. "It's like you understand what I'm like without me even telling you. It's...nice. Fuckin weird! But...nice. I'd like to give this a go, takin it slow with you" "Are you sure?" "Yeh, I won't lie to yah, I'm not really as 'physical' as other guys. And I know what you had with Shane was just f#ckin" "Life isn't just about s#x" His quirky little corner of the mouth smile is a wonderful sight to you, like seeing a sunrise for the first time. "We've gotta get back now, ya'll alright drivin the car" "Hell yeh! That's a damn good car, just try and stop me" He chuckles as he heads towards his bike. You were so happy with what had happened today between you and Daryl, nothing else seemed to matter after having the memory of his lips in your mind, he really was the best kiss you've ever had. So gentle, so tender, yet made you feel like you were truly wanted, alive. Driving back, you and Daryl arrive with the bike and new car, then proceed to tell Dale and the others that's there's a new vehicle, aswell as some others where you and Daryl had just come from, that seemed to put them all in a happy mood. For the next few days, things went on as normal, for the farm at least. You and Daryl had been hanging out more and more, mostly little hidden moments away from everyone else, and there were a few times he even ventured to the house and slept in the same bedroom as you, instead of his tent. He was starting to get more and more comfortable around you, and it felt like you had a true connection with him. Yes he was still grumpy sometimes, and answered back to lots of people like normal, but that was lessening with you. He'd argue with you on occasion, but that's been when it's about your safety, and he was adamant he was going to protect you. During all this time, Rick and Shane were still arguing with their group about what to do with Randall, and he was still locked up in the shed. Why was this still going on? And more importantly, you noticed Shane seemed to have gotten more concerning. He'd look at you from a far distance, just stare with his cold eyes, you can't deny it made you feel nervous. You still didn't know what Rick said to him, or if he even listened.

One evening, something bad happened on the farm. Dale was out in the cow area, when a walker attacked him, making him scream for his life. You, Daryl, Rick and a few others ran to him, in hopes you could save him, but it was too late. The walker was put down...but Dale was in a lot of pain, and was in danger of d#ing a very painfull way. Rick tried to put him out of his misery, but he couldn't do it. Daryl, putting a hand on Rick's shoulder, decided to do it instead. Poor Daryl looked heartbroken as he pointed the gun to Dale's head, but Dale wanted this, even moving his head closer to the gun...he understood. "I'm sorry brother" Daryl muttered...before the bullet fired...k#lling Dale instantly.

Everyone there was utterly distraught, Carl and Lori were holding eachother, Rick paced back and forth with guilt, and Daryl was trying to face away from the group and hide his tears. You pull him in for a hug, and he holds onto you like you were about to disappear, burying his face in your shoulder to mask the tears pouring out of him. This was something he hated, something he felt so bad for, but he knew, everyone knew, it was the right decision. T dog, Daryl, Rick and your dad Hershal moved Dale's body somewhere safe that night so he could be buried the next morning, while you and everyone else made your ways up to the house.

Everyone had gone to sleep, you were just lying in bed, tossing and turning, debating on weather to go and find Daryl to make sure he was ok. When your thoughts were suddenly cut off by a knocking at the door. Like a flash, you jumped out of bed and opened it, to find Daryl standing there, looking utterly defeated. No words were exchanged, his eyes were red raw, his expression showing sadness, he had been through so much. You opened your arms for him, and he walked into them instantly. Again, his hold on you was like a lock, he had lost someone who was like family to him, and he really needed some comfort. "Can I stay hear with yah tonight?" "Of course Daryl, come on" Taking him by the hand, you pull him onto the bed and snuggle down in the quilt with him, getting you both nice and comfy. You were lead on your back and Daryl cuddled up with his arms around your body, and his head resting on your chest. For someone who was a grump most of the time, he was a good cuddler. Holding him close, your hand started running through his hair and gently stroking his face, easing him into a calmer state.

"I....I actually shot Dale....it was Dale....he was..." "Shh, I know Daryl. You did the right thing. He was suffering and....and you helped him" "I killed him....I f#ckin killed him" "No Daryl, the walker did that. You stoped him suffering anymore than he had too" "Yah really think so?" "Of course I do. This world isn't like it used to be, there's danger out there every single day, and walkers are monsters who we can't seem to be rid of yet. I could see in Dale's eyes, he was glad you put him out of pain, Daryl. I know you must feel so much guilt right now, but I promise, it will get easier. And Dale's no longer scared or in pain anymore" Daryl nods against your chest, he agrees, but you know that guilt is still weighing him down. All you can do it hold him, through everything, and be as supportive as you can.

That night, he fell asleep in your arms, and you shortly after. The next morning, everyone gathered around to say goodbye to Dale as he was buried, it was heartbreaking. Rick announced that we should follow by Dale's example, and be more like him. That's why, after the funeral, Rick decided not to kill Randall, and set him free somewhere, just like Dale had suggested. Everyone tried to go about their normal routine after saying goodbye to Dale, that included you at the back end of the house trying to nail up some wooden planks on the windows. You could never be to careful if there were any more walkers close by. As you reached for another plank, someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, a scream was going to break out of you, but a large mans hand clamped over your mouth as he pins you against the house walls. "Hey there little lady" It was Shane! And he had dark eyes, like he was possessed. You struggled against his grip, but just about managed to kick him square in the balls. "Ghah! F#ck!" He shouted as he fell backwards onto the grass, giving you just enough time to pick up your machete. "What the fuck do you think your doing?!" "Hey hey...there's no need to be like that" He says as he stands back up and dusts off his trousers. "Oh really? I shouldn't be like that? Well hears a little lesson for you Shane! Sneaking up on a woman, grabbing her and frightening her, is not something your going to get a F#CKING good reaction too!" "Incase you haven't noticed, I dont care...now why don't you put down the weapon-woh woh woh!" He says as you get into a fighting stance. "Oh sweetheart....I just wanted to talk..." "Call me that again and I'll gut you!" "Oohhh, such a fire. I can see why your playing hard to get" "Hard to get? What the hell makes you think I want you back?!" "Of course you do, you can't resist me, you know it" "You lied to me! Pushed me! Left me on my own in a walker infested area, and you seriously think I wanna go back to you?! Your f#cking insane!" He cracks his neck from side to side, anger building in his eyes. "Oh come on now sweetness, you know your MY property, and I'm the only one who's strong enough to protect everyone hear. I know you miss this d#ck. Let me loosen you up there, come on you know you want it-" He reaches for your shirt as you say that, but you slice at him, cutting at his chest in a long strike, leaving a decent cut across his bicep.

He staggers back, holding his chest, there isn't too much blood, but enough to make a point. "This is your final warning Shane....you may not be a walker....but if you EVER touch me again....I won't hesitate to kill you" Sniggering at your comment, he gives you a menacing stare.

"That's cute, how you think you can actualy take me. It's a lucky situation now Y/N, it's daylight, people could see us. But I promise you....if you don't be a good girl and do as I say, I might just make a visit to your room tonight....put my duct tape to good use to shut you up. Take you faaaaar away from hear and show you who's really in charge...who knows...I may not even bring you back....leave you to the walkers.....and allll of it would be YOUR fault" In the corner of your eye, you see Lori walking past, and she spots you both, making Shane back away from you, pretending like he wasn't just threatening you. But you still had your weapon pointed at him. Whispering to you, he says "Just think about it..." Then he walks away, chuckling under his breath. Still holding your weapon up in your hand, your body begins to shake, the fear hits you like a tone of bricks and tears start to stream from your eyes as you collapse to the ground in panic. Lori runs over to you within seconds, seeing how scared you were, unable to breath properly. "Honey! What happened?! What did Shane do?!"

You can't answer, it's just crying and gasping noises coming out. You couldn't even hear Lori's voice, the sound of your pounding heart was echoing through your head. "RICK! RICK!" Lori shouts out, Rick is by yours and Lori's side within seconds, closely followed by Daryl, aiming his crossbow. Rick sees your panicked state and is by your side, just as Daryl sees you too. Dropping his crossbow, he runs to you too.

Rick asked "Lori, what happened?!" "I don't know! I walked around hear and-Shane was talking to her, she-she looked scared! She had her machete pointed to him!" Daryl reaches for your hand. "Y/N! Can yah hear me?! Look at me ok? Look at me!" Daryl's voice seems to cut through the pounding of your heartbeat, looking at him with tears in your eyes, he starts to show you how to breath, trying to help you calm down. "Just watch me ok? In...and out. In...and out. Come on, you can do it, do it with me" His calm encouragement is helping you, and breathing along with him is letting you catch your breath again. He continues, not doing anything else, just getting you to a better place. "That's great Y/N....ok....can you speak now?" You nod. Rick asks "What happened Y/N? What did Shane do?" "He-he-" "Just take your time now" Taking another breath, you start to speak again. "I-I was boarding- boarding up this window, when Shane-he came and-he.....grabbed me. Put his hand over my mouth. He frightened me. I-I kicked him in the balls and-and got my knife out....I don't know what he was doing"

Daryl's hand gently squeezed yours, as Lori brushes strand of hair out of your face. "It's ok honey, your doing great" Lori says kindly. "He...he tried to convince me that I wanted to get back with him. I said no, but he wouldn't listen. He said I was his property" The look on Daryl's face, you've never seen this kind of anger. "I told him-I would never go back to him. But he said he knew I wanted it....he tried....he tried to take my shirt...but I cut him across the chest! I had to! He-he didn't listen to me! He didn't stop!" "Hey hey, it's alright" Rick said. "You were protecting yourself, it's alright" Daryl wiped some of your tears away, then held your hand again, not leaving your side for a second. "But it was when....when I did that...he said I need to go back to him... or he'd come to my room tonight....(sobbing) use his duct tape and-" "Oh ok ok, Shhh" Daryl says in a sweet way, taking you into his arms and holds you as you cry. Rick and Lori stand, looking at eachotner. "Rick, I told you he was a danger" "You think I don't know that? I told you we nearly killed eachother the other day when we went to take Randall-" "Look at what hes done Rick!" Lori says pointing to you. "Y/N does not deserve this! Noone deserves to be threatened and scared in there own home! He is dangerous Rick!" Daryl looks up at Rick, pure rage in his eyes. "Let me kill him" "Daryl, no-" "I don't care if he's your friend Rick! I'll kill that son' bitch with my bare hands if I have to!"

"No Daryl! I'm gunna stop-" Rick is suddenly cut off by T dog running and shouting to him. "Guys! It's Randall! He got out!" Rick instantly runs with T dog, Daryl doesn't move and neither does Lori. "Daryl, let's take her inside" "Yah got it" Daryl carefully helps you to your feet, and holds you close in his arms as all 3 of you walk to the front of the house. There is a big commotion there, Randall had somehow escaped, and everyone looked panicked. That's when the trees rustle from infront of them, and Shane bursts though, calling out to Rick. His nose was bloodied up, like he'd been in a fight. "Rick! Randall got the jump on me man! Took my gun! He's loose!" Rick asked Glenn and Daryl to come with him and Shane, this was a dangerous situation and he needed Daryl to track him. He didn't, however, let go of you. He couldn't. "I can't leave her Lori, not like this" Rick calls after Daryl again, but Daryl shakes his head. Rick runs up to him. "Daryl, I need you!" "And Y/N needs me! You've seen what Shane did to her, and you just wanna run off into the woods with him at the drop of a hat?!" "Randall is gone!" "And good riddance to the little pr#ck!"

Lori chimes in "Alright alright you guys! Enough!" She gently takes your hand in hers. "Daryl, I'll stay with her. I'll keep her safe hear" "I.....alright...." Rick runs back to Shane, T dog and Glenn, but Daryl sweetly takes your face in his hands, wiping away what's left of your tears with his thumb. "Alright, I'll be right back, I promise yah. You gonna be ok?" "I'll be alright...please just be careful" "I'll be fine, I'll be back as soon as I can. And there ain't no way that b#stard is comin back near yah, or anyone else. He's f#cked with you and everyone for too long" Rick shouts to Daryl from across the field, Daryl groans, then smiles at you before giving you a quick and sweet kiss. "I'll be back soon" He said before running in the opposite direction, towards the others and into the woods to search for Randall.

Lori takes you inside and Carol sits with you both, seeing if your ok. Lori tells her what happened, and where the others have gone. Luckily by this time, you had calmed down, and now were more worried about Daryl and the others. God knows what Shane is capable of, and what really happened with him and Randall. When he shouted that Randall managed to fight HIM off, it didn't seem true to you. Shane was a fighter, a police officer, one small guy couldn't have done that to him, could he? The night drew in quickly, and everyone was just doing their own thing inside the house, waiting for the others to come back. You were stood by the window, looking out for any sign of signal the others could possible do. That's when you hear a gun shot in the distance, it sounded a fair distance away, but you definitely heard it. You called Carol and Maggie over, told them about the gun shot and how you were worried something was going wrong. A few minutes later, another gun shot! What was happening? You ran outside to see if you could see or hear anything that might help you, and that's where Daryl and T dog came running up. "Daryl!" You shout in relief as you run to him. He takes you into his arm for a tight hug. "Are you both ok? Who shot their gun?" "What're you talkin bout? We didn't shoot nothin" "Daryl's right, but we did find Randall" You raise an eyebrow. "Is he dead?" "Yeh, but the strange thing is...he wasn't bit. His neck was snapped, so I have no idea why that son' b#tch turned" "You guys better come inside and tell the others, they need to know" T dog runs inside to talk to the others, you follow close behind, but Daryl stops you and pulls you aside for a moment. "Are you alright? Did Lori look after you?" "I'm ok Daryl, honestly. I was more worried about you to tell you the truth"

"Ain't nothin I can't handle. But seriously, you doin alright?" He asks, hoding your hand in his. "Yes, I promise Daryl, I'm fine. Did you see what happened to Rick and Shane?" "We all split up, I didn't wanna. I wanted to kick the sh#t out of that f#cker!" "Your not the only one. I'm guessing it was one of them who fired their gun. There's noone else out there" "It must have been" "Daryl?" "Yeh?" "Were you aware....you did kiss me earlier...right infront of Lori" "Yeh, I was aware. I was there after all" "I'm just suprised you did. I didn't know if you were ready to let everyone know about us yet" "To be honest, I don't really care who knows or what everyone else thinks. I wanted to kiss yah, so I did. I won't lie, if someone would have told me when this whole sh#t show started, that I'd actualy fall for someone, I'd probably tell e'm to shut the f#ck up" "And now?" "Now?....Damn girl your stuck in my head wherever the f#ck I go....and it ain't a bad thing" "That's very sweet of you to say Daryl" "I wasn't tryin' to be sweet, just bein' honest" "I know....should we go insi-" Your suddenly cut off by the sight infront of you. Behind Daryl, you can see lots and lots of walkers, heading straight towards the house across the field. "What? What is it-oh shit!"

You and Daryl run inside and tell everyone what's going on, giving them all a chance to get to their guns and other weapons. This group of walkers was big, VERY big! And who knows what would happen by the end of this night....if there is an end to it....

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader

[chickensarentcheap]

:D I think I put too many, answer whatever you want lol

1, 3, 4 6, 7 9, 13, 14, 16, 17, 20, 21, 22

How do they celebrate their birthday?

Tyler always makes sure that Esme is spoiled! Mind you, not just on her birthday, but he tends to go even more overboard then lol. If it falls during the week, they wait until the weekend and start it off with the kids making her breakfast in bed and giving her a spa morning/afternoon. So a facial, massage and cupping, pedi and mani, sometimes something done with her hair. They will have friends over like Esme's sister and sister's girlfriend, Koen, Clover and Andy. So just a lot of relaxing and hanging around outdoors, dinner on the beach, cooked over an open fire. Her favourite cupcakes and a cake made by the kids. And he always takes her on a birthday trip, a week to one week away :)

3. What do they wear when they're just hanging out at home?

Esme is a lover of comfy things! Yoga pants or leggings if it's cooler outside, yoga shorts or denim shorts if it's hot as balls lol. A baggy t-shirt always. She adds a hoodie of Tyler's if it's chilly. And she ALWAYS wears a pair of her many Crocs outside lol.

4. What is their house like?

After all the renovations and additions, it's a modern farmhouse. Seven bedrooms, six bathrooms, a handful of out buildings, a small pool/house. A mix of elements really: wood, stone, siding on the outside, high ceilings with aged wood beams, granite counter tops. Something like this but with fieldstone mixed in:

6. What will always make them smile?

Definitely Tyler and his teasing, the way he'll ruffle her hair and sneak a kiss to her cheek or pat her bum when walking by her. And the kids' laughter and Addie's giggles and incessant chattering.

7. What will always make them cry?

Talking about the moments on the bridge in Dhaka or the baby she and Tyler lost in the third trimester. Between the twins and Declan.

9. Favourite book

She has so many she loves! Her fave of all time for sentimental reasons is Bridge to Terabithia.

13. Tattoos:

She has more than most people realize lol. She has a large peacock tattoo where the head is between the breasts and it goes down her stomach a bit and then onto her left cage and ending with a fanned out tail on her back. She has a little fox behind her left ear. A dragonfly on the side of her left ankle, a seahorse on the back of her right calf, and her and Tyler's initials and birthdates on the inner right bicep.

14. What was their first kiss like?

It was when she was fourteen and an older girl at school (just two years older) that was crushing on her, approached her in the hallway and just sort of pinned her against the lockers and kissed her. Totally consensual, mind you.

16. They find a genie and are granted three wishes. What would they wish for and why?

For all her children to happy and healthy for their entire lives. To take away the physical pain that Tyler struggles with every day, and the take away his mental health issues.

17. They're stranded on an island and can only bring four items and one companion. Who and what do they bring?

A good book to read, her journal and pen, a bottle of her favourite rose, a comfy blanket. And she'd choose Tyler over everyone and anyone :)

20. What kind of accent do they have?

I've never thought about it. Do people from Colorado have an accent? I suppose in the main series she may have picked up a slight Aussie accent.

21. What is their most prized possession?

Definitely that cheap leather bracelet Tyler bought her in the Dhaka. That thing has been through a lot and he's had to repair it several times and she refuses to part with it

22. Have they ever stolen anything?

Other than a few hearts along the way? ;). when she started her period as a pre-teen, she stole tampons and pads from a drug store because her mother was completely useless

[copperbadge]

Sam - i have no idea if you’ve already considered doing this, forgive me if you’ve already rejected it - a couple of years ago ((cough lockdown cough)) I started using mineral oil and beeswax to treat the wooden handles of my knives. I saturate the wood with mineral oil (takes a few applications: wipe on, wipe off, let dry, wipe on wipe off etc) and then seal it with beeswax (tempered with mineral oil; heat both in a makeshift double-boiler to mix and get a good applyable consistency). It makes the wood so gorgeous!! Downside: obvs can’t wash it with hot water bc then I have to reapply the beeswax, but I do have to repeat the treatment every couple of years anyway. Upside: It really makes a world of difference for the appearance of the wood and protects it a little (maybe a lot, I don’t know). A+ do recommend.

You know, it never occurred to me? Really it should have. They're very worn and soft so it's never been a texture issue, but I've never thought about conditioning the wood to protect it further. They're easily 40 years old, probably closer to 50, and I've had them at least 20 years, so it's been a while since they've been conditioned if they ever have.

I don't think I'll seal them, but I did just treat my cutting board with Walrus Oil yesterday, so I pulled it off the shelf and gave the handles a nice rubdown with it this morning. They look pretty good! As a reminder here's the before, and here below is the after:

[ID: Two Chicago Cutlery knives, a boning knife and a paring knife, are lying on a wood cutting board; all three have the sheen of freshly-applied conditioning oil. The bottle of oil, reading "Walrus Oil: Cutting Board Oil, Original Formula" is sitting nearby.]

I'll probably reapply it in the next few weeks, and I've added a note to recondition them whenever I sharpen the blades.

So this morning I did the knives, cleaned for the electrician, tried on some shirts, measured the bathroom closet doors for a new towel rack, and measured the floor for a rug -- I'm finding some disadvantages with the wooden mats, mainly that the second you step off them the floor is gritty, and also one of them prevents the bathroom door from closing. So I think I'm going to put a rug in front of the sink and double up the raised mats in front of the bathtub/toilet (which is where I need them most anyway).

I also made the spectacular discovery that GiveBackBox is still active, since I thought the program had been discontinued. More on this later, but GiveBackBox lets you pack a box of goods to donate, print out a postage label, and mail the box to a local charity (usually Goodwill) completely free of charge. I used to use it ALL THE TIME and I'm thrilled to find it again because I have a pile of shit to donate that is roughly the size of a small horse. I don't love donating to Goodwill, I know it has a lot of problems, but it gets this stuff out of my home and into the hands of people who will make use of it.

Though I might save the clothes for one of those "dress for success" closets that helps people without resources dress for interviews. I've got a lot of good business casual in there.

Listened this morning to "An Economic Argument for Heat Safety Regulation" by The Indicator, then tried to listen to both The Journal and Planet Money's pieces on Sam Bankman-Fried, the guy behind the FTX collapse, but it was mostly recycled content so I skimmed on to part one of "How Cigarettes Invented Everything" by Behind The Bastards, which was fascinating. And part two just came out today! About an hour and a half of work all told.

#cleaning #knives #naclyoho

[raphael-angele]

Tim Drake as Amy Santiago cuz they're both nerds

Tim: *packing 2 bottles of vodka in his bag*

Steph: 2 bottles of vodka. Is this gonna be the weekend we finally get to meet 6-drink-Timmy?

Tim: 6-drink-Timmy? What does that mean?

Steph: It's the pinnacle of the Tim Drake Drunkenness Scale. One drink makes you a little spacey. Two drinks, loud Timmy. Three drinks, Timmy dance pants. Four drink Timmy is a bit of a pervert. And five drink Timmy is overly confident. But I've never seen six drink Timmy

Tim: Does everybody know the scale?

Steph: yep.

---

POV: It's winter and the family is taking a walk on the beach.

Dick: *to Bruce* Great plan. An 80 minute walk on the beach.

3-drink Timmy: *to Steph* I'm so cold, even my fiery dance moves aren't keeping me warm

Jason: Well, you gotta be prepared. *pulling out two small bottles out of his jacket pocket* Mini-cognac. *gives to Tim and Steph*

Tim: *drink*

Steph: Four drinks! Thank you, Jason. AND THANK YOU, POSEIDON. GREAT GOD! OF THE SEA!

---

4-drink-Timmy, about to go and talk to Bruce:

Steph: Tim!

4D Tim: Hm?

Steph: *giving him a glass of alcohol* You don't wanna be near Bruce in your current state. Say hello to the most confident man alive

Tim: *drinks* Drink Number 5. *to Steph* You, are a true friend and a hot little bitch. *leaves*

Steph: Goodbye, 4-drink-Timmy. Sloppy sicko.

---

Tim: *has a lot of paperwork to do* I love paperwork, but this is too much. Duke, you're going so fast.

Duke: *signing a lot of paperwork* We don't have a choice; We can't let this place fill up with perps.

Tim: Yeah, but, you're gonna cramp!

Duke: You kidding? I've been cramping for the past 20 minutes

Tim: ...I'm so attracted to you right now.

---

Duke: *closing the fridge only to see a clearly highly caffeinated Tim behind him*

Tim: ...what?

Duke: Uhhh, nothing. I'm going to go over to there, now.

Duke: Dick, what's going on? Why does Tim look like that?

Dick: Oh, he obsessively drinks coffee when he's nervous and he's super nervous cuz he's taking his SAT's today

Duke: But Tim loves tests

Dick: Not this one. He's planning on taking over WE entirely if he passes and graduates and if he doesn't, it disrupts her entire life calendar

Duke: Is that a thing?

Dick: I've seen it once or twice.

Jason: So he's stress drinking, big deal, that's like a one in the Tim Drake Panic Scale

Dick: yeah, but we already jumped to level two: Creepily singing songs from the great American song book.

Dick: So, yeah, I think the worst is behind us.

Tim, yelling at the microwave: WHY ARE YOU TAKING SO LONG TO COOK MY FREAKING OATMEAL?! *throws microwave onto floor and starts beating it with his bo staff*

---

5D Timmy: It's time

Bruce: ...for what, Tim?

5D Timmy: For you, to give me a promotion. I've been carrying this whole team on my back for years and my back is getting tired.

---

Tim, trying on dresses/suits for his wedding:

Jason, who went with him and is also wearing a suit: So, what do you think?

Tim, wearing a dress: Hmm, I don't really like the sash, but, it's fine. I'm just gonna get it.

Jason: What? That's the first one you tried on. I once saw you look at 54 accordion folders and not buy any of them due to weak tabs

Tim: I file hard, I need strong tabs. I'm sorry. I just don't wanna take up any more time.

Jason: Your break's not even a quarter done

Tim: ...I'll stay another 10 minutes

Jason: You'll stay until I dismiss you.

---

Tim: *sulking*

Bruce: Tim, you know why you didn't get into SAMSAM?

Tim: Cuz I used a modern format on my cover letter. I put my email ABOVE my home address, why take the risk?!

---

POV: Tim and Kon are going undercover at Kon's old school

Tim, on the school computer: Okay, I think I got something

Kon: Hm? *looks* That's not Greg's profile, it's mine.

Tim: I know, I just wanted to take a look at your attendance record. *gasp* Zero absences? Hot damn.

---

POV: Bruce told the boys to watch over Damian for a few days while he and Selina go to France.

Dick: Bruce hasn't seen Selina in months. And I was thinking that if that was me and Kori, I'd be really sad.

Tim: Aw, Dick, that is so sweet of you

Dick: Plus, he left a binder full of instructions *pulls out big binder*

Tim: *gasp* there's a binder?! why didn't you lead with that?!?!

---

POV: Omegaverse...plus, there's a blackout (Dick and Bruce are the only Alphas. Duke is a beta. Tim and Jason are omegas. Damian is a pup)

Tim: We should ambulances on call. I want an open line communication with TOT and someone from DA down here so we don't get cases thrown out. I need a pair of sweatpants and check again on that status at ESU. Alright, let's go.

Jason: What do you need the sweatpants for?

Tim: My water just broke, which reminds me we might have to distribute water and food.

Jason: YOU'RE WATER JUST BROKE?!?!?!

...

Jason: Tim, you need to get to a hospital right now. I don't want a birth happening around me, it's way too gross

Tim: I'm no where near giving birth. I haven't even lost my mucus plug.

Jason, hands slamming on the desk: You need to get the *beep* out of here.

Tim: I'm sorry my baby grosses you out, Jay.

Jason: I'd be happy to meet your baby when it's dry and fully clothed, not when it's bursting out of you.

Tim: I'm just at the start of my labor, I haven't event had my first contraaaAaAAAaaa-

Jason:

Tim: aaaAAAaaaAAaction.

Jason: ...was that a contraction?

Tim: No. That was just a crazy yawn

Jason:

Tim: Fine. Look, I don't have to go to the hospital unless my contractions are 3 minutes apart and lasts for at least 45 seconds

Jason: Don't you need to go and pack some stuff?

Tim: Can I burrow some of yours?

Jason:

Tim: Please?

Jason: Fine.

Tim: Then I rest my case.

...

Jason: Okay! You're contractions are 3 minutes apart, it's officially time to go to the hospital.

Tim: Not yet.

Jason: Do you have any idea how thin your lining is right now?

Tim: ?

Jason: Yeah, I'm worried, so I started reading the book about omegas that I found on in Dick's room and I do not want to be around when PAGE 53 HAPPENS! *shows picture*

Person: Hank wants to know if we can cut the power to the third floor

Tim: Let me talk to him

Jason: HEY! If you page 53 on me, I swear to god, our relationship will never be the same again.

Tim: Make sure you don't look at page 214.

Jason, flipping pages: What? Why?!

---

Tim, to Bruce and Dick: Status update, I called in every officer I could, I green lit shifts and overtime, we're coordinating with 96 on traffic control, we haven't processed anyone so there's a backlog of perps on the 3rd floor, and I have to go to the hospital cuz my water broke.

Dick: You're having the baby?! Timmy, this is so wonderf-

Tim: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH

Dick: ...we'll just catch up when the baby comes

#tim drake #timothy drake #batman #red robin #red hood #nightwing #dick grayson #jason todd #amy santiago #b99 #source: brooklyn 99 #brooklyn 99 #damian wayne #bruce wayne #duke thomas #stephanie brown #omegaverse #timkon #conner kent #omega tim drake

[pearwaldorf]

This is such an interesting poll because fully a quarter of the results are "Please let me explain", which I think is surprising for something with ten options!

Attraction* is a strange and complex thing at the best of times, especially when it's to blorbos or people who are so unattainable they might as well be.

I mean, sometimes it's clear-cut. Taika and Ed are both extremely pretty and hot. As somebody who likes men/masc people both of them totally do it for me.

So you know the trope of the nerd (usually a girl) glowup? Like sometimes it's putting somebody in clothes that flatter their body or a touch of makeup, but I think a lot of it is context shifting, seeing a person in a circumstance that's different than the usual. Like Drew Barrymore in Ever After.

My introduction to Rhys Darby was Murray** in Flight of the Conchords, okay? No shade if you think he's fuckable, but he did not do it for me. The epitome of swagless looks and cringe-fail personality.

And you know how sometimes people seem to settle into themselves for a lot of reasons, including getting a new hair color? (Like Tori Amos is a bottle redhead, but she's a redhead, y'know?) And obviously seeing somebody in two roles almost 20 years apart is going to be different, but that context shift is something I've been thinking about since I watched S1 of OFMD. (Also that photoshoot in the powder blue suit. It lives rent free in my head.)

I love Stede dearly. It's been a joy watching him grow as a character and become more confident in himself as a person and as a leader. Confidence is attractive. Confidence and competence is sexy. Also being willing to murder people for insulting/hurting the people you love is hot af. I don't make the rules. But I'm not Ed, and attraction is contextual and specific for me.

Anyways. Some thoughts, take them or leave them.

--

* Aesthetic, sexual, gendery, whatever. I'm leaving this squishy.

** Forever loling that 1. Jenkins kept auditioning people and finally being like "I want Murray from FOTC" and Taika saying "You know I can call Rhys up right?" 2. Taika kept looking at the auditions and going "idk if I'm going to vibe with this person" and fell into the gay pirate actors casting their besties trap

#pear text

[askglassanon]

Incorrect Quotes: Glass Addition

Spare Keys (derogatory)

Glass, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here. Firestorm: Hey. Comet: Hello. Prism: Hi! Glass: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! Serum: We were out of Doritos.

— (Can't think of a funny title)

Glass: Can I be frank with you guys? Firestorm: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help. Serum: Can I still be Serum? Comet: Shh, let Frank speak.

— Glass if she was mortal

Glass: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Bee: You're like 15 years old Glass: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

— Why is this so accurate?

Glass: Bee... Bee: Oh no, 'Bee' in b-flat. Bee: You're disappointed.

— This is low-key interchangeable

Glass, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today! Bee: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

—

FFR!Glass: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back. Comet: Of course. I can't flip this table by myself.

— Modern nobody dies AU

Glass, at a restaurant: You guys should get the orange soda, it's amazing. Serum: Okay Waiter: Can I get you guys anything to drink? Glass: Orange soda, please! Serum: I'll have the strawberry soda. Firestorm: Me too, strawberry soda. Glass:

— MND AU Follow up (Oddly in character)

Glass, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Serum: You did WHAT– Firestorm: William Snakepeare

— MND part 3

Glass: I trust Serum. Firestorm: You think they know what they're doing? Glass: I wouldn't go that far.

— Imagine if Glass was ever this bold (Fun fact this Quote was in the Unshipping category)

Glass: I just wanna be called cute 21/7. Firefly: Why no 24/7? Glass: Snack breaks.

— Hehe >:3

Firefly: *holds a gun out to Glass* Glass: I-I don't believe in guns. Firefly: Well, trust me, they're very real. Now take it.

—

Bee: Why do you hang out with me? Glass: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Bee: … Bee: I feel a bit sorry for you.

— If Serum had a childhood

Serum: *watching their house burn down* Serum: Serum: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything.

— Four am (original prompt mentioned bread but I don't think Serum would like bread)

Pyrite : *Turns on the kitchen light* Serum: *Sitting at the table, eating sardines from the can* Pyrite : It’s four in the morning. Serum: Turn the light back off.

— Donnie would teach Serum to be a little menace

Serum: DID YOU REALLY THINK THAT JOKE WAS FUNNY? IT WASNT. NOBODY IS LAUGHING. Serum: *pulls up a graph* THIS IS WHEN YOU TOLD YOUR JOKE, YOU HAVE SINGLE HANDEDLY RUINED COMEDY! IVE ALSO ASKED MANY COMEDY SCHOLARS ON THEIR OPINION OF YOUR JOKE AND THIS IS WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY! Pyrite : I've been researching comedy for the past 20 years, and I have genuinely never seen a joke this bad. We have used quantum physics to look into alternate universes to see every joke made, and yours was still by far the worst. Serum: CONGRATULATIONS! YOUVE SINGLE HANDEDLY CREATED THE WORST JOKE IN HUMAN HISTORY! HERES A MEDAL! *pulls up a horrible ms paint drawn star that says "you need help*

— Oh my gosh the Celestial AU!?

Celestial!Glass: Three words. Say them and I'm yours. Celestial!Raph: Three words. Celestial!Glass: ♡

— Seems about right

Glass: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Glowbug: It’s not a joke. Glowbug: *sniffles* Glowbug: I’m a legit snack

— Serum wouldn't break and enter casually with zero hesitation

Pyrite : Serum, I am nothing if not a man of principle. Pyrite : Now let’s break into this apartment.

— .. Yeah. Given Potion's genuine and general lack of concern for potions safety this is accurate

Serum: Are you sure this is safe? Potion : Safer than Flintstone vitamin gummies in a bottle. Potion : Keep twisting, junior! All you’re gonna get is clicks.

— FIRST TRY!

Comet: Potion , you’ve tried 37 times and you’ve failed every time. Give it a break. Potion : DO I HEAR “FIRST TRY PART 38?”

— Wasp Glass probably

Bee: You shouldn't be using a straw. Glass: I know, I know, it's bad for the environment and stuff. Bee: Yeah, but I mean... it's a weird way to eat spaghetti.

—

Glass: You ever get so tired that you start seeing spiders? Firefly : Me after I take 17 Benadryl and start seeing the hat man. Glass: THE WHO? Firefly : Oh is this not a safe space suddenly?

#Incorrect Quotes #OC Incorrect Quotes #OC Ask Blog Incorrect Quotes #Maus #Out Of Glass #OoG #// This is so much funnier with Comet #// Other blog OCs get a little cameo as a treat

[rainyfestivalsweets]

10/13/22

No weight.

I started a new supplement last night called nomorbidity. Very excited. I had a meeting with a new weight loss counselor and she said that I needed go absolutely celebrate the fact that I went from 285 to the 240s this year. I was beating myself up for this plateau, because I am so eager and happy to move on. But, that is a big weight loss for someone who was so stuck for so many years.

What did I change? Almost everything.

Trying to be active daily. Goal is 10k steps or equivalent in elliptical miles.

No drinking alcohol.

Meditations and hypnosis at night.

Meal preps. Kept tweaking these. Failed some. Work in progress.

More veggies, always. Definitely trying to stop the produce I buy from going bad (my gf's too). Sometimes a dinner date is based on whatever will be going bad and is likely to be tossed.

Tea. Coffee. To go cups. Always BYO drinks.

Skinny chews.

Glucomannon tabs.

Fiber fiber fiber.

Supplements. Started with Slim and Burn. Slim 2.0 does not seem as effective but I still have 2x bottles of it.

Started taking Thesis, which is a supplement and my God it changed my life. Made me realize I might be undiagnosed ADD/ADHD and that it is affecting me more than I ever thought possible. I am shook.

Standing desk.

Workouts at work.

Kayaking, that is a pretty new thing for me.

Working on consistency.

So, that is alot of things. I was able to say goodbye to alot of bigger clothes, so there is NO GOING BACK. ALL MY COMFORT FAT CLOTHES ARE GONE.

That is epic. I spent a pretty penny on some of those clothes and had emotional attachment to some of them.

I got rid of a shirt that I loved that I bought in the middle of my first relationship. I was a beautiful red with black embossed flowers. Very pretty.

Worn 1x or 2x a year at holidays because it was so fancy and pretty.

It was a size 24.

I don't ever want to be a size 24 again.

This is me, taking a moment to recognize that I did a heck of a lot of work to get here! Yes I may have plateaued but I am maintaining a lower weight than I've been able to maintain for almost like 10 years!!!! This is probably close to the best I have maintained for close to 20 years, to be honest. The weight loss journey from 2009 and 2010 was stomped by the trauma of a cheating partner that absolutely blew up my life and my next partner had terrible lifestyle habits that I fought so hard not to fall into, but I definitely did.

I'm just going to celebrate this WIN and allow my body the time to adjust and keep doing the things that I'm doing to continue to be healthier as a person.

I have always been active, yes.

But I deserve to look HOT.

CELEBRATE THIS VICTORY!!

#weight loss #weight loss journey #weight loss lifestyle #losing weight #operationlosethisgut #operation lose this gut #healthy habits #fitblr #healthy eating #getting healthy #healthy lifestyle #cico #need to lose more weight #celebrate your wins #lifestyle choices #lifestyle changes #100poundstolose #100+ pounds to lose #over 100 pounds to lose #100 pounds to lose #working on me for me #do it #just do it #nomorbidity