#they would have lasted five minutes of that and then had actual life stuff happening again

[lightdancer1]

The last of my three Buffyverse ideas:

I've had these on the back burner for a decade and waited until the Buffy comics were done to avoid having to constantly reinvent the wheel to do the full thing, but it all started with the old-model 'Wish to resurrect Tara Maclay' fics that are the worst part of shipping culture making the ship overshadow the people involved.

These five stories can essentially be said to be 'the last five seasons of Buffy if Tara Maclay came back in Season 8 and got to deal with the death of magic and the magic concentration camps like everyone else did.' They are both a reconstruction and a deconstruction of elements of the Buffyverse idea of soulmates, of a lot of tropes in Tara x Willow fanfics, and simply put an excuse to write Tara Maclay and Willow having their own badass adventures separately and then together and not do the racist thing of throwing the obnoxious Latina under the bus while the obnoxious demon gets a pass because she's played by a white woman.

Also featuring my idea that absent pesky actor contracts the First Evil very much did appear as Tara and that this would be a complicating extra shadow over all the other trauma, and that without the ultimate longer-term effects of the Twilight War.

The irony, too, is that in this case all of Willow's actions in Seasons 8 and 9 ultimately stem from loving Tara enough to want people to remember the actual human and to give her time to adjust to being alive again on the one hand, and loving Kennedy enough to not simply discard her for not being Tara because their dynamic, while vastly different, very much does have its own recommendations.

Also going to feature, along with my series rewrite, the idea that the world of Buffy had at least a bit in common with that of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen in that Dracula is not the only classic literary character to have been real (and not just the Cthulhu Mythos ala the Order of Dagon and Yog-Sothoth, aka Dawn Summers). One of them also has some support from the earlier episodes of the show and that one episode with the formula, as the Mk. I model makes its reappearance and with it the full-blown effects.

#buffy fanfic #the witching hour #tara x willow #willow x kennedy #buffy continuation fic #I really don't like how a lot of 'resurrect Tara' fics make Willow shallow enough to drop Kennedy like a hot potato #and Tara in turn either a doormat or basically a fixed point in time who forgets all their other existing issues #they would have lasted five minutes of that and then had actual life stuff happening again #these fics also make her into a 'reward' for Willow when that was the exact kind of familial trauma she grew up in to begin with #so in short Tara and her own issues get to exist #and Willow and hers get to #and both get actual complete healing arcs before their future getting back together does happen #I am also going to enjoy writing Angel getting repeatedly whacked in the nuts

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

because this has been on my mind wrapping up the epilogue, here is a little story about how writing fanfiction for very silly sometimes awesome sometimes genuinely terrible SYFY show the magicians changed my life for real.

i started writing help, i’m alive in may 2020. as i have stated many times on this blog, the overarching goal from which this story sprung was my passionate desire to give quentin coldwater each and every last thing he deserved: i wanted to follow him all the way through a downward spiral, and then i wanted to figure out what it would take for him to climb out of the darkness and make it to somewhere he actually wanted to be. the first part of that, the part that became damage control, was some of the easiest writing i’ve ever done, even accounting for the hours spent google mapping the most depressing road trip of all time. the second part was harder, and not just because it wound up being more than four times as long (lmao). it was thornier; there were more threads to weave through; and, frankly, quentin was so fucked up that it took a lot of effort even to outline what it was he needed in order to change. i had written one story already in which the pivot happened entirely internally, an act of self-forgiveness that proved transformational, and i knew that this time i needed to give him more: actual wants, actual actions, an actual life, with actual ties not just to the people already in his circle but to the world beyond. once i had that outline, the first four chapters flowed pretty easily, anchored by the goal of hitting the story’s first big win, which is when quentin finds a way to fix something for the first time since his magic broke; chapter five was where i got stuck.

by that point, it was fall. i had quit my teaching job mid-pandemic with some modest savings, no back-up plan, and a growing realization that after five years in the classroom, teaching was no longer something i could see myself returning to; working obsessively on this story was, among other things, a great way to quiet the constant humming freak-out of what the fuck i was going to do with my life. in october doing some jump squats after sitting in bed all day i threw my back out so badly i couldn’t walk to the bathroom unassisted and paid a hundred dollars to talk to a telehealth doctor for fifteen minutes for some muscle relaxants. the pain sucked, but so did not knowing whether i was going to be better by election day — i’d signed up to be a poll worker, and i really could have used the money.

i’d started dipping my toe in some local volunteer stuff when i quit, but it was during this time that i signed up for the first time for a particular project i was really excited about joining. i did the zoom training with my camera off because my back still hurt too much to sit up; the follow-up involved scanning and emailing some personal documents and signed agreements. i didn’t do it the next day because, whatever, my back fucking hurt; i didn’t do it the day after that because…? and then, well — then i started feeling like i had missed my chance, and it was too late now.

now, here’s the thing: i say feeling like because by this point i had learned enough about the world that i knew — like, knew — that, objectively, taking a few days to send an email (during a pandemic, while i was having previously established health issues) is not considered by most people to be an unforgivable crime. i knew that i should still send the email. and i also had learned enough about myself that i could actually recognize the thing happening in my brain as an example of the kind of overly self-protective mechanisms in which i have many years of practice; i knew by then that i was an absolute expert at finding reasons to not do things that felt like they were based in truth but were really just cleverly disguised manifestations of fear, because if you do things then bad things might happen, but if you don’t do things then nothing bad happens, except that you ruin your own life. i knew all of this!! i could diagnose and analyze exactly how i was once again perpetuating the same anxiety-driven patterns that had governed so much of my life. i was conscious of the workings of my own unconscious. but i still couldn’t bring myself to send the fucking email. instead i was spending 16 hours a day alternately lying in bed and gingerly pacing in my apartment to regain mobility, feeling like shit about the fact that i wasn’t sending the email and also trying fruitlessly to unpack whatever was going on in chapter five.

the election came five days into this mess, and i did feel well enough to go work the polls. this was a great way to experience election 2020, by the way; i had to leave my apartment at like 3:30 in the morning and by the time the returns started coming in i was too delirious to have any emotions about them whatsoever. it was also, not to be a shill for electoral politics, genuinely kind of inspiring: all these people lining up to Do Democracy, the deployment of translators to assist across languages, the columbia undergrad from the neighborhood we were in i was paired with at the info desk who told me he wanted to go into politics and said very seriously, upon hearing i had a friend in the grad school there, “you should tell them to join the union.” plus, you know, the high of doing something, surrounded by other human beings, at a time when that sort of thing had been in short order for the work-from-home crowd for months, and i personally had recently been confined to my bed for several days.

leaving the site that night, entering my twentieth consecutive hour awake, i felt this weird mix of spiritually rejuvenated and psychologically worse. i had just lived through this physical proof of how doing things is both not that scary and kind of awesome, i had spent a day living in alignment with the kind of person i wanted to be, i felt a fresh rush of love for my city and its people — and i still couldn’t imagine sending the fucking email! it was like i was looking at the thing i wanted most through a pane of glass, and the glass was actually really easy to break, so the only thing stopping me was that i was too much of a baby to do it.

and the thought that i had then, i fucking swear, was: i would be such a fucking hypocrite if i wrote quentin coldwater into a happy ending i’m too cowardly to give myself.

which is, first of all: SOOOOOOOO corny, like omg. unbelievably cringe. embarrassing as hell. but it was also my truth at that moment in time. i had no faith in my own ability to change, but i had spent five months and counting thinking about almost nothing else except the story i was writing in which quentin also has no faith in his ability to change but is brave enough to do it anyway, and i really felt like — i could not live with myself putting these ideas out into the world and refusing to integrate them into my own life. i could not write this promise that something better was possible for quentin if i wasn’t even going to try to make it possible for me. i could, apparently, live forever with my constant self-sabotage, but i couldn’t live with myself making this story a lie (this story being, again, fanfiction for a TV show that was, at its best, so great, and also, at its worst, so, SO stupid).

and like… that worked. i emailed the documents the next day; i attended my first monthly zoom meeting that weekend, during which the election was officially called, which felt like a good omen. i summoned the idea that had presented itself to me that night — don’t be a hypocrite! do what you would want quentin to do! — again a while later when my email got lost in the shuffle and i had to send a check-in following up, and again every other time something came up where my fear had to war it out with my desire. (or, well, most other times — it's a work in progress, and yes, i do still find myself calling upon this logic to this day.)

my life now looks more like the happy ending i wrote quentin into than it did almost four years ago, when i started this story, or even three years ago, when i finished it. it looks more like that future than i ever imagined my life could look when i was writing it, and not just because, as i have mentioned before, a few weeks after my election night revelation, i did do as quentin did and befriend a community-minded extrovert who invited me to join a book club. even the fact that the final part of the epilogue has taken me so much longer than expected is a funny case of life imitating art, because while i have had work and illness and travel and general life stress, i have also had many days in the past few months where i was not very productive because i was simply too busy doing something fun — the kind of never-quite-solved balancing act quentin was set to deal with in the epilogue back when i first started kicking it around, well over two years ago at this point, but which was not really applicable to my own life until basically now. and it sounds even to my own ears so, so, so insane to say this, but it’s true: i can trace every aspect of that shift to the fact that i wrote this story, and that writing it fundamentally changed something inside me for the better. (shout-out to the people in the comments who noted that the story was, in a meta sense, my own version of quentin’s coffee maker; i knew you were right, but i don’t think i knew how right until this recent bout of reflection.)

i don't really know that there's a take-away here, because "quit your job and write four hundred thousand words about a weird TV show with a niche audience" is not exactly universally applicable advice. but if i were to try to find one, i think it would be something like: i felt really crazy and kind of embarrassed the entire time i was writing this story, not because i was writing fanfiction, or because it was incredibly horny and wildly self-indulgent, but because it mattered to me so, so deeply. it was one thing to have a fun goofy hobby, even a fun goofy hobby i took semi-seriously and poured a lot of time and effort into, but it was another to actually, like, care, and to care a lot, which i did. but if i hadn't accepted that this story mattered to me, i don't think it could have been as personally transformational as it wound up becoming. the heart wants what it wants, and you're only going to find out what that is if you're willing to listen to whatever rhythm it beats.

i solved chapter five on the way home from the poll site, by the way. i knew there needed to be some problem with quentin’s first semi-successful attempt to mend the coffee maker, but i couldn’t figure out how it tied in thematically with where he was in his life. on the bus it hit me: quentin and the coffee maker were both trying to remain unbreakable. an appealing idea if you’ve been broken, but one more conducive to stagnancy than to growth; you can stay there for a while, but eventually you need to let yourself want more.

#writing tag #the magicians #isabel 2k24

[coolprettyleo]

talk of the town - will smith

tw: lowkey cringe. if ur not into it lmk lowk...

wc: 1.4k

will smith x influencer/ d'amelio sister

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dylan couldn't believe the shit day she was having. she had woken up late and missed her pilates class, then she spilt coffee all over her laptop, and right now she was fifteen minutes late to her music class. it was her first ever day of college too.

even though she was having a horrible day, she was still dressed cute. she decided she wanted to start taking her school more seriously. and that meant actually going to class.

the thing about dylan though is that she didn't need school. she had over one hundred million followers on all platforms. she was what someone would call an influencer.

influencers usually didn't continue with school if they didn't need to so when dylan decided to still attend college it was a shock to a lot of people; including her family.

her family were all also influencers and didn't decide to attend college; rather deciding to work on their brand instead. a brand that dylan opted out of, she had decided to enter marketing at boston college.

she entered her music class to find that there was no less than twenty five students inside. thats what happens when you attend a private college! dylans strategy her whole life was to always sit in the back of classes. (it was easier to skip class and just lie to the professor and say you were there)

there was one seat left where three other boys sat. she set her stuff down. the boys giving her an odd look, not thinking anyone was going to take that last seat between them or probably trying to figure out why the hell she looked so familiar. dylan got that look often.

the professor though was deep in lecture about their upcoming assignment and dylan was too busy trying to find a top for her upcoming brand dinner in New York. she was pulled out of her own little world when the professor noticed she was not listening and had missed the introduction part of class and decided to call her out on it.

she felt a tap from the boy next to her getting her attention because it seemed the professor had been calling her.

"oh my gosh im so sorry what" she said removing an AirPod and sheepishly looking at the class who all seemed to be either smiling at her or giving her dirty looks.

"since you decided to grace us with your presence introduce yourself please" she said pointing to a slide that stated what exactly to say.

"uhm... im dylan. im from connecticut but I've been living in LA for the past four years, and im a marketing major" she said awkwardly feeling like everyone was judging her.

"alright thank you miss dylan. I want to see the title slide of the assignment done before I dismiss you guys" she said.

the three boys she sat with seemed to be life long friends and she was feeling a bit left out. she had zoned them out till she heard them whispering to each other.

"ask her"

"no thats weird"

"ill ask"

"your tiktok famous huh"

she looked up to a freckled boy her while the dark haired boy giggled and the blonde haired boy cringed.

"uhm, yeah... I guess" she said awkwardly. she really didn't know what to say.

"nice" he said going back to working on his assignment.

she smiled awkwardly and looked at the other two boys. who looked like they were cringing about their friends actions. the dark haired boy seemed to let it go and work on his assignment while the blonde one spoke up.

"im sorry about him, ryan doesn't know how to talk to girls"

"yes I do! if I didn't how would I of pulled frankie" ryan says.

"she basically pulled you" gabe quipped back.

dylan just giggled along to their battering. they seemed funny.

"he's fine. a lot of people don't realize its me in real life but instead just stare at me trying to figure out why I look so familiar, and thats creepier to me"

"well we knew it was you because everyones been saying you go here" ryan told her.

oh god it was a hot topic?

"people talk about it?" she said grossed out.

"yeah, but like no one ever sees you for some reason"

"I did online classes and lived in LA last semester" she told them. it was true, her family was filming their Hulu show and it didnt make sense for her to leave mid-way through filming.

"do you live on campus?" the blonde one asked her again. he seemed like the quiet and calmer one of the three boys.

hes hot

"no, I live in beacon hill, the city"

"why didnt you dorm" gabe nosily asked.

"I didn't think it would be too fun to share an apartment with random girls at first but now I regret it, because I have no friends here" she honestly told them.

"oh my god! my girlfriend has no friends!" ryan said loudly. which made will, gabe, and the people around them to laugh.

"im telling her you said that" will smiled mischievously at him.

"shutup smitty. we have a game tonight and she usually sits alone or with my parents but they're not coming tonight so she'd probably like the company!" ryan said. he was honestly just trying to do a nice thing. he knew frankie struggled with the fact she had no girl friends; even though she said it was fine, and dylan seemed nice.

"game?" Dylan said confused.

"oh ya! we play hockey" the freckled boy answered.

"oh thats cool!" dylan said. she had attended a couple games recently due to the fact her sister was dating an NHL player.

"im will, thats gabe, and ryan" the blonde one said pointing the dark haired boy and the freckled one.

"im dylan. and what's your girlfriends number, id be down to go" she said to the freckled one.

"here" he said writing it down and handing her a crumpled paper.

"her names frankie by the way"

"okay, ill text her after class" she said smiling getting back to work.

"what's your major?" will asked her. he didn't want the conversation to end for some reason. she was lowkey his celebrity crush since he was like fourteen and they first started getting famous.

"marketing. you?"

"communications"

"your quite the communicator then" she said.

oh my gosh dylan you sound pathetic what the hell even is a communicator?

what didnt help was that will looked clueless and Ryan and gabe seemed to be biting back a smile acting like they weren't listening.

"im sorry?"

"like, you like communications- like the major" dylan said, trying to save herself but digging an even deeper and awkwarder hole, turning as red as a tomato.

"uhm ya, I didn't really know what major to pick coming in" he said smiling at her. a smile that dylan liked to see.

"well what do you want to be?"

"a hockey player."

"oh... too bad hockey isn't a major huh" she said chuckling at her own joke while ryan and gabe gave her funny looks except will of course, who was laughing at the joke like it was the funniest thing ever said. (thats what your supposed to do when your crush tells a joke)

"and what do you want to be"

"honestly, I dont know. I just want to have the degree so I can have more of a say in the brands I deal with, and all that"

"so you want the knowledge" gabe said, since he's been listening.

"yeah, basically" she said. making eye contact with will who looked to be studying her a bit.

he knew she wanted to say more but seemed to be putting up a wall which was understandable seeing as she just met these boys twenty mins ago.

"well im all done." she said closing up her laptop and standing up.

"maybe ill see you guys later!" she said waving to them.

"look for 6" will said to her.

"six what?" she said confused.

"what?" he said equally confused now

"six of what" she said cluelessly.

"like the number six" he said smiling awkwardly.

"oh!! omg I knew that! okay!" she said grabbing her bag and waving bye to them.

gabe and ryan gave each other a knowing look before immediately chirping will.

"you are such a flirt"

"that was painful"

"and he said I dont know how to talk to girls"

"shutup guys" he said packing his stuff away before leaving. hoping to see her in the stands tonight. her personality was even cuter.

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im so sorry for not uploading! I just keep overthinking everything so I end up just deleting it! but thats just a me problem lol. but I hope u guys like this au. I plan to the it all together.

#nhl imagine #ryan leonard #gabe perreault #nhl imagines #will smith hockey #bc hockey #hockey fic #will smith x reader #gabe perreault x reader #ryan leonard x reader

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Disheveled Duckling

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 4.2k

Warning(s): Insecurities, and a tiny tiff

—————————————

“Whose decision was it to make Zegras the cover of NHL 23?”

“Tried and failed to make the new face of the league Trevor Zegras.”

“What an absolute joke.”

“Too flashy. Not enough skill.”

“Good thing the Ducks hired another useless player. I was afraid they might actually make the playoffs.”

“Wonder if he has to hold onto sh** when the wind blows”

“His girlfriend need a man’s man?”

“Holy shit!” I slammed the door to the house I’d slowly grown to love. Trevor and Jamie’s.

Jamie’s head shot up from the couch, startled and frightened by both my abrupt arrival and my anger.

“You good?” I heard him chuckle. No doubt nervous. I took my shoes off, locked the door, and turned to look at my boyfriend’s best friend. Silence filled the air around us. Jamie’s nervous smile immediately disappeared.

“It’s impossible.” My shirt was dripping with water, as were my hands. “And you didn’t even come outside to help!”

“Trevor’s car is really that unclean-able?”

“It’s yours! It’s your Jamie! What are you driving through?” His cheeks turned red. Trevor was out for a hockey game, but when I informed him that my work place was trying to schedule a late night meeting, and we hadn’t known how long Jamie was going to be at the doctors office, Trevor said he’d simply take an Uber. I felt bad when Jamie came home five minutes after Trevor had left. So I decided to go out and wash their cars for them. It was a nice day anyway, a little outdoor time hadn’t hurt.

“I don’t know?” I had managed to get Trevor’s car practically spotless before I had waxed it. But Jamie’s was something else. It had tiny asphalt pieces all over. Which was usual on a car, but I couldn’t scrape them away without chipping paint, and they wouldn’t just wipe away either.

The sun had begun setting mere minutes ago. I had given up on Jamie’s car. I was tired, I’d missed more of the hockey game than I wanted to, and now I was simply angry.

“You’re lucky I have a moral compass that says I shouldn’t hit injured people.” I grumbled as I left the living room, walking through the house to find mine and Trevor’s bedroom. I needed a change of clothes. Something comfortable.

I had been getting notifications for a while on my NHL app. I had only stopped to look at a few, but from what I’d seen, the Ducks were losing. Another reason to be stressed. Another reason to worry about my boyfriend.

I met Trevor when he played for the USA hockey team. We just happened to be in the same town and in the same pastry shop the night it happened. He was trying to order a bear claw, and I had let out a rather exaggerated sigh over the fact that it was the last one. We shared it over two cups of iced coffee.

After that, we became friends and remained so for a long time. The year he got drafted into the NHL, it seemed he’d been on enough of an adrenaline rush to ask me out. I said yes. He pursued his dreams while I pursued my own. Our paths of life ran parallel, but close enough to hold hands along our walks.

I’d been around long enough to see Trevor make records in USA hockey, get drafted, play in the AHL, and eventually join the league permanently. I’d also seen the rise and fall of his mentality as those years went by as well.

I couldn’t pinpoint when it truly started, but I would certainly say when the media began pushing to make him the new face of the league. That was when Trevor began to feel the anxiety.

To everybody else, he loved it. To everybody else, he ate up every second of attention he got. He loved the videos online, the commercials, the sponsorships and free stuff. And part of that was true. Trevor did love all of those things.

But people put so much pressure on you when they expect you to be the poster child of anything. It can change people. Hell, Sidney Crosby’s first year in the NHL was spent screaming at any ref he could over a call he didn’t like. Getting misconducts and penalties he ought not to. Good men can fall long ways under immense pressure. But when the spotlight is on you, all people want is to see you fall and fail. People want to see the hero bend and bend and eventually break.

Trevor loved the attention, but he despised the hate. He didn’t like opening his sports news apps to find articles on himself, and not having the impulse control to not read them. He hated posting something on Instagram, and going back to check a comment from a friend, only to find hate surrounding it. He hated hearing people he looked up to all his life’s putting him down left and right. He hated being misunderstood, but not given the platform to express his grievances. He had no right to discuss his feelings. Nobody would listen.

Perhaps that had been what made him feel like he couldn’t come to me. What made him pull away when I could tell he was tense and disappointed. It took me forever to really understand why he would come home looking so defeated. Looking like a parent who should have expected better from their kid. It took me forever to realize how much Trevor hated himself.

I blamed it on the publicity over and over again. They built him up so much, just to tear him back down. And I knew with each loss, there was a new article. A new post. A new video. A new comment.

My hopes were whisked away when I opened the NHL app to see the score. 5-1. Not a good look for the Ducks. Then of course, upon further inspection, opening the live summary of the game, I realized Trevor had his own ten minute misconduct.

I was never happy that he fought. That he got in people’s faces and picked fights with guys who could have pinned him down to the ice in one shove. But I understood somewhat. Trevor was just trying to look out for himself. Trying in his own short tempered way to be heard in a league that would not listen to him. But we both found through time that nobody was on his side other than his team and few friends.

“Jamie!” I tossed my phone down onto the bed as I grabbed a spare shirt and a pair of shorts. I quickly changed, the lack of response leading me to assume Jamie was ignoring me. I rolled my eyes as I walked back down the hall, stopping once I was in the living area and over the couch.

Not ignoring, somehow asleep. I worried sometimes about him and his pain medication. He was responsible with it, but I still worried. I gently nudged him. Easy to wake, per usual. And he couldn’t have been out that long.

I nudged Jamie again, watching his eyes flutter open. I gestured for him to move, and he quickly cleared a space for me on the edge of the couch. I sat and took the tv remote, turning the screen on.

“Have you had the game on at all?”

“No.. it’s been.. kinda- stressing me out.” I nodded.

“Trevor got into another fight.” Jamie wasn’t surprised. But he knew as well as I did that Trevor was struggling. On his own little broken sailboat, refusing help because he didn’t want anybody else to be caught up in his storm.

“It should be over by now.” Jamie shifted and sat up, leaning against the arm rest of the couch.

I found the channel and flipped it on. Sure enough, Jamie had been correct. I crossed one of my legs over the other, eyeing up the tv in search of my boyfriend. When I couldn’t find him, I assumed they had kicked him out of the entire arena for the last ten minutes of the game. Banished to the locker room.

I used to love games that took place in the middle of the day. Trevor would come home and we’d have dinner together. Then we’d curl up in bed and whisper for hours until we fell asleep. Now, games in the middle of the day meant there was extra time to avoid aggravating Trevor.

We sat in silence until the goal horn sounded, frustrated Ducks players exiting the ice. It was a waiting game now. One Jamie and I were happy to do together, so neither had to worry about Trevor alone.

“He’ll probably be fine.” Jamie broke the silence with a statement we both knew to be false.

“He hasn’t been fine.” I knew that in my mind, but my heart broke at the first confession of the fact. Trevor had been a wreck of emotions and I hadn’t been able to fix even one of his problems.

And he hid it all so well underneath that big smile. And all those jokes.

Jamie and I returned to silence not long after, but when we caught the headlights through the window, he had been the first to get up to leave.

“You should handle this one.. right?” I gave a nod in approval to his suggestion.

“I’ve got him.”

Jamie retreated to his room after that. Always only one call away if Trevor or I ever needed him. I was supposed to be one call away for Trevor too. Why didn’t he ever dial my number?

I waited for what felt like hours for Trevor to come inside. He never did. So I decided to see what was going on. I unlocked and opened the front door, surprised by the sight of Getzlaf’s car in the driveway. I could just barely make out the silhouette of two figures, one pointing at the other in a manner that looked tense.

I leaned in the doorway, and waited patiently before I was spotted. Getzlaf gestured, and Trevor climbed out of the car. He grabbed his gear from the back, and I heard his voice shout something to his old captain before making his way up the short drive to the door. I wasn’t sure what to say, so instead I stood there, staring at Trevor as his eyes met mine. He looked like he was waiting for something.

“Can I come in?” I was surprised by Trevor’s tone. Playful and lighthearted. I looked skeptical, but I nodded and stepped aside nonetheless.

“I was thinking we could do dinner? I miss that. Maybe- we could try.. like steaks? I know Jamie just got a pack the other day.” Trevor’s always been talkative, but this time it feels off. There was a sound in his voice I didn’t know how to place.

“Trevor I can’t cook steaks.”

“Let me do it.” I stared at him as he shut the door. He hated cooking.

“Come on! It’ll be fun! Let me take care of you.” I shrugged. What’s the worst that could happen?

Trevor insisted I sit at the table while he did his thing. I was hesitant, but I allowed him space nonetheless. Trevor tried to talk about the game a bit, but the bitter laugh that occasionally fell from his lips, and the sad sound in his voice usually caused him to stop before he got into any good details. He often stopped his own comments with something like, “guess it doesn’t matter anyway.” And the repetition of the phrase made me feel like it was a media interview. Like he was repeating and repeating just to get me to go away and stop asking questions. I hadn’t asked any in the first place. That’s what he was hesitant about.

“And the misconduct?” I hoped to look disinterested. Like it didn’t bother me, so I looked down at my phone. Trevor never turned to look at me.

“It was bullshit.” I glanced up at him. His shoulders rose slightly.

“What was it on?”

“You didn’t watch?” Trevor turned to look at me, and I don’t know why, but this time he seemed upset. I had missed games of his before… but this was the first in a long time.

“I was a little busy.” I smiled at him, hopeful to keep the clean car a secret until he could see it in the morning.

“No that’s cool..” he shrugged it off and turned back to the stove. It was definitely not cool, not to him, but he wanted to move on. So we moved on.

I listened to Trevor occasionally mumble under his breath about whatever he was making, the sweet smell of cooked meat filling the kitchen along with the sound of the sizzle of two steaks on the pan. I was certain I hadn’t missed out on Trevor learning how to cook.

Once they were finished, my boyfriend beckoned me over, and I was quick to join his side. He cut a piece and I waited for it to cool off before biting the tender piece of meat off the knife he held. At first it was perfect. Then it was oddly sweet. I made a face. Trevor noticed.

“What’s wrong with it?”

My eyes searched the various items and ingredients strewn across the counter. When I noticed it, I giggled.

“Trevor,” I nodded my head toward the container I used for sugar. I never labeled it because I knew what it was, and the boys didn’t use the big box of sugar I had set aside for baking.

“That’s sugar.” His face fell for a split second. Then he started to laugh. I thought about joining him before it all just felt off. Trevor’s eyes quickly adopted a glazed over look, his smile falling into a frown as the laughter ceased and an overwhelming look of grief overcame his features.

Trevor shook his head before turning the stovetop off. I reached for him while he reached for his keys in his pocket.

“Where do you wanna eat?”

“Baby no. We’ll fix this.”

“I don’t want to. Where do you want to eat?”

“Trevor.”

“I said I don’t want to!”

We didn’t get into fights much. We didn’t like to, but I couldn’t keep disregarding his feelings for his comfort. Something had to give.

“I love you, but you’re gonna sit your ass down and talk to me Trevor.”

“Fuck this.” He shook his head, tossing his keys onto the counter and turning to walk away.

“Trevor!” I snapped and followed him. “I am so sick of seeing you so- so sad! You have to talk to me!”

“I don’t!”

“Then who are you going to talk to? Huh?” Because I knew he was horrible at opening up.

“I don’t know! Nobody fucking listens!” I followed him all the way into our room, pushing the door shut behind myself.

“I’m listening!” I was desperate. “Trevor, I’m right. Here.” He turned to look at me. His anger eased into a blank stare, and it seemed my offer brought everything crashing down at once.

We stared each other down. Both waiting for the other to give up or make some kind of move.

“I’m so tired.” Trevor’s voice quivered, his lips pulling into a frown I hated to see. His eyes fell to the floor.

“Everybody’s so…” he drew in a breath. “Too much- it’s all too much.” Trevor sat down on the side of our bed, his head fell into his hands. “They hate me.”

There was a little kid in there. Devastated. Heartbroken that his heroes wanted him gone. That kids parents didn’t deem him a good role model. That he was ruining his own track record by trying to stay afloat. Trying to survive when nobody respected him. When refs pushed him around and legends dragged his name through the mud. Trevor just wanted to live his dream. He had fun before all the publicity. He didn’t need it, but it was forced on him.

“Nobody hates you.” I slowly made my way over, raking my hands through his hair. Trevor lifted his head to look at me, his brow furrowed and his cheeks red.

“Everybody does! I don’t want to be the guy everybody hates!” Trevor raised his voice, but I couldn’t be bothered to be upset. This was only the tip of the iceberg.

“They liked me..” his voice dropped to a mere whisper. My brow furrowed as I rested my hands on his cheeks, prepared to wipe tears as they began to fall.

“Huh?” I met his volume, Trevor closed his eyes tightly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“They liked me.. and I ruined it.” Sure, he hadn’t been perfect, but even the aggressive egotistical asshole players had fans. This wasn’t Trevor’s doing. This was the media realizing they failed and then deciding to spin his story. To make him a villain.

“It’s all my fault.” His words were interrupted by a broken gasp, I guided his head to lean against my stomach, pushing a sigh past my lips as I tried not to get too emotional.

“Trevor, this is not your fault.” I ran one hand through his hair while the other held his head.

“I just can’t- fuck!” His voice was muffled in my shirt. “I don’t want this.” I glanced down at him again, my hands travelled to his jaw to move his head from my body.

Trevor’s eyes met my own. So sad. So lost. So broken.

“I don’t want hockey if it comes with all this shit.” He tried to bury his head back against my body, but I held his jaw tightly.

“Trevor.” I carefully moved forward, resting my legs on the bed on either side of his own. I sat on his thighs and pulled Trevor in for a tight hug. His hands gripped the sides of my shirt.

“You just have to be patient. They’re gonna test you.” I whispered against his ear as his head buried in the crook of my neck.

“They test me every day.” I sighed. I didn’t know how to help. “I mess everything up.. they don’t want me. They want somebody who can actually get shit done. They want somebody bigger and faster.. and stronger. They want what I’m not.”

I rubbed at his back with one of my hands.

“Trevor, nobody gives a shit about your weight.” I had never heard a single thing on it before. Sure, maybe his mom made a comment or two about how skinny he was, but it was more so commentary when she was trying to feed him. It never had anything to do with his job.

“Yes they do.” He was insistent. I knew this was a projection. Him trying to find a reason to blame himself for something he couldn’t help. Not everybody gained muscle easily. It wasn’t a bad thing. But to him it was. To him, it was embarrassing.

“I think you look great already. If you get too big, then you can’t lay on top of me any more.”

“That’s not the point.” My joke crash landed. It only seemed to frustrate Trevor more. “People just.. they say shit.” I rested one of my hands on Trevor’s forearm while I worked the other through his hair.

“Like what?”

“That I can’t keep up.. that I’m too scrawny. I need to ‘build up.’ But I can’t! I try and I can’t! I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” He sounded desperate. Desperate for answers I didn’t have.

“It’s genetics Trev. It’s not something you can help.” I knew he tried a million different things. Nothing ever worked. And I knew how hopeless he could get when he’d go to take a peek in the bathroom mirror, and see absolutely no progress. Trevor never had an issue with his body until people started saying things about it.

He’d always wanted to get bigger, but he was patient before. He was willing to really take his time. Now one comment could leave him in the gym for more hours on end than he ought to be in there for. One chirp left him laid down next to me in bed with a shirt on and a pair of pants, curled in on himself like it would somehow make him and his insecurities any less noticeable.

“Or maybe I just shouldn’t be playing hockey. Maybe I’m just not cut out for it.” His sadness had shifted into acceptance. Like he was ready to give up.

“They drafted you Trevor. People talked about you forever. People were elated to have you in the league.”

“Yeah. Were.“

“They still are.” I sighed. “So you have an attitude? They’ll get over it. You know how many people have said they love you? They love your personality, and your talent? You’re a new version of the game. A new type of style everybody is going to know you for.” I moved my hand from Trevor’s hair. I gently traced his jawline with my fingers, holding my breath at the sight of my disheveled duckling.

“What if it never gets better?” Trevor had thought about this more than I realized. I shook my head.

“It will. There’ll be some new hotshot they’ll idolize and attack. Some new player who takes a downward spiral that they decide to torture. This won’t be you forever.. you just have to stay strong while it happens. Okay?”

“I just wanted to play hockey..” exhaustion was evident in his tone. I allowed Trevor to rest his head on my shoulder again, his breaths were heavy from trying to hold back the tears that hadn’t fallen.

“It’ll all work itself out, Trev.” My voice lowered to a whisper. “They did the same thing to Jack.. they did the same thing to Crosby. You just have to handle it better.. that’s all. You know I love you, I just think they get under your skin too easy.”

“I know.” Trevor sighed.

“You have to remember to calm down sometimes. Nobody’s ever going to listen if all you do is yell and fight.”

“That’s what Getz said.” I had been curious, but at no point did I consider asking what Getzlaf had said to Trevor. It hadn’t been my place. But I was happy Trevor told me nonetheless. It was reassuring to know somebody else was telling him the same things.

“You need a stress ball out there or something.” I joked softly, running my hand through Trevor’s hair one last time before I rested my hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so I could see him.

Trevor mustered a sad smile at my words.

“Maybe you just need to chew on your glove like Jack.” I added, trying to go two for two. It seemed that comment earned a giggle from him.

“Or reach out and talk to him.” My tone took up a more serious sound. Trevor pursed his lips and nodded. “You guys don’t talk as much as you should. He probably gets jealous of Jamie.”

I went three for three the second I noticed Trevor’s smile widen, his eyes squinting as well when he laughed.

Silence enveloped our own little world. I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. Trevor seemed to finally relax.

“We’re gonna be okay,” I whispered as I gently placed my hands on his chest. Trevor picked up the cue to lay back as I propped myself up over him.

“And I love you.” I added softly, pressing a kiss to his collar. “And Jamie loves you,” Trevor smiled again. “And your mom, and your siblings, and your dad. And all of your friends all scattered about.” I climbed off of Trevor and slipped off the bed. He looked confused before sitting up to look at me, eventually standing as well.

“You don’t have to be perfect.” He stepped closer, resting his hands on my sides as my own slipped beneath his shirt to hold his hips. “Nobody needs you to become a body builder.” I continued. Trevor nodded slowly. “And nobody needs you to lose that attitude.” I wrapped my arms around his body beneath his shirt, gently scratching his back. His weakness. He loved back scratches. “Just keep being the Trevor I know and love. Just be yourself, okay? Everything comes after that.”

And everything did come after that. I didn’t want Trevor to lose himself or his confidence because of others.

After I got him settled, Trevor and I had cleaned the mess in the kitchen and I took him out for a quick dinner. We ate on some curbside, talking and laughing over nonsense. When we did get home, I had checked up on Jamie, prepared to ask if he was hungry before I found he’d been asleep. After that, I slipped back into our room and got settled in bed with him, flipping through streaming services until we found something to fall asleep to.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #trevor zegras #nhl x reader #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine

[skz317cb97]

Drunk Confessions pt 4

Changbin x Female reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: After the worst day of your life you drink with your friend Changbin and the truth serum that is tequila betrays you.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! Here's part 4 guys! Had some stuff happen hopefully I'll be able to get some writing done still but please be patient if the last few take a bit to be posted! I hope you enjoy this one! Warning's and smut below the cut!

Warning: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, Mentions of drinking/over drinking/being drunk, mentions of vomit. That's it! If I missed something please let me know and I'll add it to the warnings

Your morning didn’t start out the greatest. Your roommate had used all the hot water so it was a cold shower for you. Then you decided breakfast was a must, that was until you burnt it and realized you were running behind. No problem, skip breakfast for one day. At least you have your coffee.  

Had. Not only did you drop your coffee, it was hot and you dropped it in your lap. Then as you were trying to sop up the burning hot liquid you ran over something in the road that flattened your tire. Just as you got out to inspect the flat God decided comedy was his forte and it started to rain. Hard. It took you forty five minutes to finally get your tire completely changed, no one stopping to ask if you needed help. Chivalry was dead.  

You finally made it to work, very late. Towards the end of your day, you were called into your boss's office. You stood there still wet from the morning, a coffee stain on your slacks, utterly dumbfounded as he explained cut backs and how your position was being terminated due to downsizing. You walked back out into the rain and got into your car to go home and crawl into bed. You turned your key in the ignition. Click. Nothing. You tried again. Click click. Nothing! You banged your hands against the steering wheel and screamed. 

“FUUUUUCK!!!” You pulled out your phone. You would call Cam, the guy you had been talking to and see if he could come get you, but he ghosted you recently. There was only one person you could truly depend on. You clicked the number and put the phone up to your ear. 

“Hey y/n what’s up” You started crying immediately once you heard Changbin’s voice. 

“Changbin I’ve had the worst day of my life and my car won’t start, can you come pick me up from the office?” He shushed you. 

“Hey hey it’s okay it’s okay. I can come get you. What time are you off?” You sniffled. 

“Now, they fired me.” Changbin was surprised to hear that. You had a good work ethic, a place like that should feel lucky to have had you working for their company.  

“Okay I’m on my way now alright? Just hold tight for a minute, okay?” You wiped your eyes and sniffled again. 

“Okay Binnie.” He smiled hearing you call him that nick name. 

“I’ll be there before you know it. See you soon.” You hung up with Changbin and sat in your car in the rain and dwelled on all the bad shit that had happened to you that day. It wasn’t long before Changbin was knocking on your car window, umbrella in hand. 

“You ordered a knight in shining armor?” You forced a smile. 

“Thanks Bin I owe you one.” He shook his head. 

“Don’t worry about it. Just happy to help.” You both quickly made your way through the rain and got into Changbin’s car. Once you were inside and out of the weather he turned to you. 

“Hey! Why don’t you come over to mine and have a sleep over. We haven’t done that in forever.” You debated it. The reason it had been a while was because of your inconvenient crush on Changbin which was the only reason you had even been talking to that dick Cam that ghosted you. You had been trying to forget about the man you actually had feelings for. You almost decided against it but you’d had such a shit day, you deserved to go and hang out with your friend. Feelings or not. You asked the most important question at that time. 

“Can we drink?” He smirked and shook his head. 

“Absolutely.” You buckled up. 

“Then onward.” You pointed towards the road. Changbin put the car into gear and you both drove off towards his place. When you got to his, the rain had started to let up. You both still got inside quickly and Changbin immediately went to grab you some of his sweats and a hoodie so you could change out of your wet clothes. As soon as you pulled the hoodie that smelled of Changbin’s cologne on over your head your nerves started to calm. You still wanted a drink though, so when you joined Changbin again in the living room you went straight to his liquor cabinet. 

“You weren’t joking about drinking huh?” You laughed spitefully. 

“Changbin if you had hard drugs, I’d do them at this point.” He shook his head. 

“Well there’s only booze, so pick your poison.” You scanned the liquor cabinet until your eyes landed on a fresh bottle of silver tequila, not the cheap stuff either. Never with Changbin. No this was top shelf. You turned to him. 

“Anything?” He nodded. 

“Yea pick whatever it’s fine, you’re spending the night. What do you see?” 

“Tequila.” Changbin laughed. 

“You weren’t kidding about the hard drugs huh?” You looked at him incredulously and he put his hands up in defense. 

“Tequila is fine with me; I’ll go grab the limes and salt shaker.” While you grabbed the bottle Changbin got the fixins. When Changbin came back he brought shot glasses as well as the limes and salt, he caught you taking a sip from the bottle already. 

“I thought we could be civilized and drink from these tonight.” You wiped your lips. 

“Sorry just tasting.” He handed you the shot glasses and opened the tupperware of sliced limes he kept in the fridge for just such an occasion, while you poured a couple of shots. Changbin couldn’t help but watch your mouth as you ran your tongue over the back of your hand to make the salt adhere. He found it hard to not look at your lips often. When he wasn’t looking at them, he thought about them. You were his friend he shouldn’t think about such things but it wasn’t just sexual for him. He thought about how kind you were, how much you made him laugh, and your lips. He snapped out it when you went to hand him his shot. 

“Cheers.” You said before tapping his shot glass then the table as you licked the salt from your hand. You shot back the tequila and bit the lime you had in hand. Changbin followed suit licking the salt, taking the shot, and biting the lime. You went to pour two more. 

“Okay speed racer slow down we have all night.” He laughed and you tapped his glass then the table taking another shot. 

“I just want to get my buzz going.” Changbin took his shot. 

“Okay but don’t make yourself sick okay I’m not good with vomit.” You laughed and started to pour two more shots. 

“I can handle my booze Mr. Seo now bottoms up!” You tapped his glass and then the table, licked the salt took the shot bit the lime. Usually you could handle your booze but with no breakfast and a light lunch it was hitting you harder than normal. A couple of hours went by and you and Changbin were laughing, telling stories, talking about anything other than your terrible day and drinking, you a bit more than him. Changbin had tapped out after a few shots knowing his limits. You tapped your shot against his forehead and laughed, then down on the table before forgetting the salt altogether and shooting the tequila, then chomping down on another lime. 

“You know whaat?” You slurred pointing at Changbin. 

“You’re drunk as fuck.” You nodded lazily. 

“Yesss but d’you know what else?” Changbin shook his head. 

“T’day was the worst day of my life, I had t’take a cold shower, I b’rnt my breakfist, I spilled my coffeeee, got a flat tire, got rained on, got fired, and my car wou’dn’t start, Cam hasn’t respondedd to ‘ny of my calls or texts for over a week and he was supposed to keep me distracted from bein’ in love with you and you not loving me too is the worst part of the whole day!” You started to cry and Changbin hugged you tightly as you sobbed into his chest and he comforted you.  

“Oh no no don’t cry, you’re wrong.” You sobbed and looked at him like he was stupid. 

“No I'm not all that happened today Bin!” He pulled you back into his hug shushing you. 

“Yea but that last thing. You’re wrong.” You looked at him again. You were confused still, too drunk for your own good. Changbin should have made you stop two shots ago. 

“I do love you y/n. I just didn’t know you felt the same and didn’t want to ruin what we had.” Your expression was frozen and then your eyes went wide. Changbin shook his head knowingly. 

“I’m gonna be sick!” You yelled 

“Oh. OH! Bathroom quick!” He yelled back. You slapped your hands over your mouth and Changbin helped you stumble to the bathroom. You made it to the toilet just in time and Changbin held back your hair as you evacuated your stomach. When you finally stopped you looked over your shoulder at Changbin. 

“I thought you weren’t good with vomit.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

“You needed me.” Your eyes got big and glassy.  

“Did you really mean it when you said you love me too?” Changbin nodded. 

“And I threw up oh god I’m so sorry Binnie.” He laughed a little. 

“Not the reaction I was hoping for but it’s okay. I’ll confess again tomorrow when you’ll remember. We’ll save our first kiss for then too. After you’ve sobered up and brushed your teeth a couple times.” You laughed nodding. 

“Deal. I should probably lay down.” You rinsed your mouth with some mouthwash and Changbin helped you to the guest room. He made sure to leave water and Tylenol by the bed then he sat on the edge and pushed some stray hair out of your face.  

“Sleep well. I love you.” Your eyes got heavy you were almost out. 

“I love you too Bin.” His heart nearly exploded finally getting to hear you say it back.  

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice630 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64 @smally97 @fun-fanfics @chansducky10 @starfire21 @cessixja @siewoon @berryberrytan @binnies-minsung-fanclub @lethallyprotected @straykids5star

#skz317cb97 #cal 🖤 #seo changbin #changbin #stray kids #skz #skz drunk confessions #skz drunk confessions pt 4

[alexiswritingstuff]

(THIS IS A REPOST BECAUSE THE LAST VERSION GOT MESSED UP, SORRY FOR ANY CREATED EXCITEMENT!!)

~

Now, I know I’ve said this for many things, but I genuinely got carried away with this that when I had the idea for the plot... I kinda forgot that the anon had requested something cute with fluff, so... I hope the ending does it justice.

Either way, thank you for sending this in. I hope you like it!

Removal of the Mask.

Pairing: Gustavo Fring x gn! reader.

Other appearances: Mike Ehrmantraut, though only mentioned.

Request: I had an idea for another Gus fic! I just want him to finally break , mask off and just actually let himself show emotion and be upset with the reader comforting him or something? I just need cute and fluffy stuff with him in my life. Poor dude just needs a shoulder to cry on

Content: angst with comfort and fluff.

Warnings: fighting, gunshot, injuries, descriptions of a hospital.

Be aware of spelling errors and mistakes! I do go read through my fics before posting them, but I always managed to miss some!

A/N: I don’t know if it’s just the way I perceive Gustavo, but I genuinely can’t think of him just... crying. You know, like, maybe with tears in his eyes, but the only way I was able to imagine it was like if something close to a major trauma happened. So, I guess that’s what influenced my idea for this.  

Also this fic may be really long, so buckle up, hydrated yourself and grab a snack.

More Gustavo fics.

Taglist-

@sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana​

The sun was high in the sky. Everything beneath felt the presence, including you as beads of sweat trailed down wherever it could on your body.

You were leant against the side of your car, though not very still in the unbearable heat. “Where the hell is this guy?”

The problem with doing these deals, exchanges, or something along those lines was that they had to be done in unknown places. Areas where there weren’t other people around who could possibly witness something they shouldn’t.

That usually meant abandoned properties, or having to travel miles into the vast desert.

And for this particular meet-up.

It was both.

You sniffed, a rising sense of irritation building as you twisted your wrist to lay eyes on the watch strapped to it. Five minutes late. No one in this business risked being five minutes late, especially if it could end up being more.

No one had been told that it was going to be you instead of Gustavo that they were going to be meeting with today either, so in theory, these people were laying back on him. Making him seem like a fool with the need to wait alone in the desert.

But it was you.

And you were not the slightest bit happy.

Just as your arm lowered, hand angrily smacking back to the car door behind you, there was a revving sound that hummed across the landscape. And upon looking up, your eyes found a moving cloud of dust just over one of the minor hills.

“Ballsy.”

You pushed yourself off of your car, adopting a straightened stance the way a bodyguard would.

Despite wanting to present yourself like Gustavo would- arms tight by the sides, chin raised, head basically unmoving unless needing to provide a form of intimidation- when the car had finally rolled into the lot, your arms were just crossed over your chest.

It may have made you like an angry toddler, but there was nothing more unnerving than the ultimate death stare you shot the driver as he exited the vehicle which had finally stilled.

“You’re not Gustavo.”

That was the first thing he said. 

After turning up late, and looking like he didn’t even bother to dress himself accordingly... That was it? He even had this narrowed gaze when he began to take a few steps in your direction.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that it was the traffic that made you late... Am I right?” You hadn’t moved an inch, just simply watched the man as he ultimately decided to settle on keeping a good distance.

His hands lowered to his hips while his eyes flickered to the horizon, his head mildly nodding as if he couldn’t figure out what to say. But it looked more like he didn’t care.

“Okay,” you began, finally letting your arms fall to your sides, “Let’s not waste anymore time then.”

“Do you have them?”

The mans attention snapped back to you after he rocked on his heels for a moment, his stance unchanging much like his gaze, “It was supposed to be Mr. Fring that I met with.” There was a slight southern drawl to his words, a sound that slowly became vicious the more he spoke, “Where is he?”

Your voice stayed the same despite the irritation that began to take back its place, “I believe we’re old enough to carry out an exchange ourselves, don’t you think?”

There was a good few seconds of strong eye contact. One that closely resembled the kind of stand off you would see in old western movies.

But eventually, his head lowered when you held no reaction to his persistence, even stilled it there when he spat out a glob of spit onto the sandy dirt below.

And then he turned, walking back to the car with a flurry of emotions that visibly affected the way his legs moved.

Your expression was stern as you watched him regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see it, a weird feeling now residing in your chest from the previous actions. I mean, it was like a want. An insistence of Gustavo’s whereabouts.

Gustavo was a businessman. He was the owner of something so large that he couldn’t possibly be everywhere at once, or be the one to do things all the time, so it was more common for other people, like you or Victor, even Mike, to be the ones at exchanges. Especially if the outcome wasn’t something that heavily impacted the business.

Hell, you were just trying to collect new versions of equipment that had been busted from too much usage, this whole interaction had been strange from the get-go.

He had been late, wanted to speak to no one other than Gustavo, despite the fact that the needed task was just handing over the machines, so that you could give him the money in return.

Even with the amount of thoughts that were running through your mind, in the next moment, it seemed that by the time your attention had refocused the realisation of a problem came a bit too late.

The man, who you still didn’t know the name of, had arrived at the side of his car. But instead of moving to the back, where you were assuming was the equipment covered by that tarp, he had stilled at the window of the passenger seat.

You couldn’t exactly pull a machine through a window now could you?

Just as you had retrieved your gun from your belt, and was so close to properly gripping it in your hand, a shot rang through the vast area.

It snagged the weapon, narrowly missing your fingers in the process, and you immediately retracted your hand, watching in mild shock as it fell to the sand below.

Damnit. He’s trained.

Unlike what the rest of your body wanted to do in that moment, your legs sprang into action like your life depended on it. Because it in fact did this time.

You swerved, dodged and weaved as bullets began to pang off of walls and the empty shells of cars that were just left, clouds of dust beginning to gather in the air the further you went.

Situations like this weren’t exactly unusual. Contact with other business went sideways more than anyone would really like to admit, hence the need to carry weapons at all times.

The only difference now was that you were the direct target.

You rounded the corner of the closest part of the abandoned building, heart pounding in your chest, your ears, and chorusing with the bullets that continued to fire despite not even being in view anymore.

Your feet skidded to a stop, your eyes frantically searching through the area for some kind of hiding spot or at least something that would give you time to make a plan.

But just as you made a decision, that would’ve at least lead you to your next option if it went sideways, a shot echoed through the surrounding walls.

A sound uncontrollably escaped your throat. Your body jolted, knees eager to bend as you staggered forwards, a sense of determination bubbling in your system more than it ever had.

However, before you could have even prepared, something collided with the middle of your back with full intent. 

It sent you tumbling forward. Your knees were the first to connect with the ground below until your hands followed, the sand beginning to roast the pads of your fingers.

But of course, due to the combination of your lack of ability to comprehend the situation, and an increasing pain somewhere in your side, you couldn’t keep yourself stabilised for long.

You fell on your stomach, the exhaustion from the heat finally creeping in the last moment that it needed to.

“Listen,” you croaked out after a cough, still trying to pull yourself towards your chosen hiding spot despite the inability to basically move, “You want-- You want Gustavo, right? Why not… You can’t get to him if you kill-- kill me.”

There was no point in bargaining. You knew that. You knew that this was pre-planned, and that it in fact was meant for Gus.

But they could easily settle on the next best thing if the intent was to impact him.

And you were right.

Each of your legs were grasped in either of his hands within the next second, and before you could grab the sand beneath you, even if your fingers would’ve immediately sunk through, he began pulling you towards him.

In the blink of an eye, your body got flipped over, your spine now slamming into the sand. An indescribable pain seared through your side, and despite the urge to arch your back as if it would get you away from the feeling, your eyes went wide. And you swung, arm aimed at the first body part that was close enough.

His gun fell to the side.

There was a yell of annoyance that bellowed from the man above, and when you tried to move a fist decided to meet with your face in a way that had your ears purely ringing.

It was almost like your brain was forgetting basic functions. You could barely remember how to move your eyes, or even breathe, for a terrifying few seconds.

You had previously thrashed in a way that made the man falter, almost losing his balance. It wasn’t until he was trying to push himself to stand that something managed to form in your head.

Your legs trapped his own despite their weakness and while the man battled with a pair of limbs, cursing in ways that you couldn’t imagine, your hand subtly moved to the side, gliding across the surface of the sand.

Until they met with metal.

The vision through your eyes was blurry from the previous attacks and now from the direction off the sun that beamed right on you. But somehow you still managed to find your aim.

The man twisted back round when he heard that familiar click and his eyes widened as much as they physically could, “No--”

The shot echoed more times that you could count, bouncing off of every possible surface, through the building and on the walls like a game of ping pong.

And then something slumped, falling to the side almost in slow motion until it collided with the ground.

You got him.

All at once the adrenaline rush slowed and the pain in your face, with a sort of burning sensation somewhere else in your upper body, intensified so much that you could barely move.

A shaky whine pushed through your lips as you began to pat around your torso, trying to find the large source of pain.

And then you got to your left side.

It seems that he got you first.

“Shit.” you seethed through gritted teeth and lowered your increasingly weak arm back down to let your hand gain access to a pocket. Your fingers dug through the fabric compartment, grabbed at a device before, unsteadily, pulling it out.

There was no way that you would be able to sit up so you did your best to lift the phone in front of your face, but even when it was flipped open, your vision shook with your heaving chest.

It felt like years had passed by the time you had managed to push a certain order of buttons in, and as soon as it began to ring, you let it drop, your arm smacking into the ground next to your side.

Finally, there was an answer.

The phone hadn’t landed that far away from your head, but it was enough so that when a voice crackled through the speaker, you couldn’t hear it over the sound of your heartbeat and the ragged breaths that rasped from your throat.

You coughed, “Hey, Mike. You, uh… You’re not busy, right?” Your voice was strained despite how hard you were trying to play off your injuries, but when you put pressure on the most important wound to limit the blood loss. It was a little hard to maintain.

“It’s not been a very nice tea party.”

~

The surrounding room would’ve been quiet if it wasn’t for the monotonous beeps from machines that sounded more hypnotic as time went on.

The lighting was dull, barely reflecting off of the walls, with no help from the world outside as by now it had apparently grown dark. Though, due to the ache that consumed almost every part of your head, it made you very grateful.

Your gaze was set on the window on the other side of the room, one used so that doctors could see their patients at any given time if they weren’t able to hear them first.

Gustavo had arrived, stood in the brighter hallway and talking to a doctor you were still getting use to interacting with yourself.

The expression on his face was a mixture of the one he held when interacting with the general public and this intensity that would be difficult for other people to notice upon first glance.

But not you.

After almost every sentence spoken by the doctor, the man had sent a glance your way. A look that could almost make you feel exactly how he did, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t fully readable.

And before there was even an attempt to try, you found yourself breaking the eye contact, sinking the back of your head further into your pillow as it seemed that your mind only now was capturing onto the fact that you were indeed awake.

From what you could hear from the muffled conversation going on outside, and what you had been previous told, the bullet had luckily missed major arteries or organs that would’ve cost everything if hit.

But even so, especially now that it had been removed, that didn’t mean it wasn’t still going to hurt like hell.

You had been issued pain medication at a time that couldn’t be remembered off the bat, but it seemed that it hadn’t met the 30 minute mark yet. Meaning that it wasn’t properly in your system.

By the time your eyes focused back through the window, Gustavo had a smile stiffly pressed onto his lips. The two of them were shaking hands, sharing words that you couldn’t quite catch, and then the doctor turned, resuming the work they were previously doing before he had arrived.

In that moment, the emotion held on Gustavo's face had disappeared by the next time your heavy eyelids had allowed themselves to blink. It was almost like he was in a trance for a good second, his eyes unfocused as they stared off down the hallway.

And then he snapped back.

This time when he faced the room, his attention never went to you. He simply opened the door, walked through and then closed it behind himself. A movement that engulfed the surrounding area in a quietness that even the machines couldn’t help.

He stood closer to the back wall than the edge of your bed. His body was still, stance almost like a soldier, as his gaze remained aimed at whatever was in front of him. You really wished you could read minds.

“Have the doctors updated you on your condition?”

Despite the small room, there was a lack of fullness to his voice. Like it was from somewhere in the distance even though he was right there.

“Yeah,” The grogginess from waking up not that long ago was still fresh in your system even with the activeness of your mind, so when you attempted to shuffle yourself to get a better view of Gustavo you had barely even moved. “Though I could’ve make an educated guess anyway.”

His response was a mere hum, still remaining in the same position as before. It was a thing that made your eyebrows twitch, unsure if he had even meant to make that sound in the first place.

“I would’ve had you put in a more private place, but... I was was told there wasn’t enough time.” That was when he moved for the first time since entering the room. His head lowered, eyes now cast down to his shoes like they were the most interesting thing in the room. “I know you don’t like hospitals.”

Your gaze moved upwards as you turned your head towards the ceiling, a huff of air passing through your lips, “Well, I already had the surgery... Just need to be patient now.”

“I wish there were better channels on these TVs though,” you then added, attempting to break the tension surrounding every corner in the room, but when you moved your head again, you found Gustavo starting to walk.

His steps were almost silent despite what his shoes were made of. He moved slow, precise even if his attention wasn’t on the floor anymore.

And soon Gustavo had arrived at the window that looked out onto the world below. You had no idea what floor you were on but it was most likely about halfway as the sound of cars could still be heard, though a bit muffled.

Somehow the more time he spent facing away from you, the more a nervousness began to ignite within your chest.

The way he was acting was something you had only seen when he was disappointed. Upset about how a situation had gone enough so that he needed time to compose himself before speaking.

So, even if most of your body couldn’t be bothered to move, you found a way to fidget.

You stared at the wall on the other side of your bed. A multitude of fresh thoughts and worries swarming your mind in a way that was almost suffocating, until they couldn’t be contained anymore.

You cleared your throat, finally finding your voice despite the utter dread of doing so. “I’m sorry.”

The sound of the heart monitor could literally be heard speeding up as your words fully settled through the air.

“Pardon?”

Your eyes may have still been aimed at the wall, but from the corner, you could see Gustavo twist away from the window. An action that didn’t at all help your nerves.

The next time you took a breath, you had almost gulped, “I realised what had been planned too late.”

“If that had happened anywhere else, I could’ve ruined the business... Lost progress.”

It was only when a new worry, the realisation of another action that had the possibility of many consequences, that you found the ability to actually look at Gustavo, “You got the machines, right?”

His brows were furrowed enough that the skin surrounding them was intensely crinkled, his eyes narrowed in a disbelief that you had never seen him display.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/n.” was all he managed for a moment, his voice going back to that lack of fullness that in turn had your eyebrows furrowing. “Did they tell you what happened? Everything?”

“You were injured during a job I set for you.” His eyes were wider now, the once clouded look within them forming into a sense of clarity though the disbelief still remained.

“And I could’ve ruined everything.” The emotions each of you felt were clashing, the brain working in the wonderous ways it always did as you both had very different viewpoints of the situation. The hard part was getting the other to understand why.

“There is a lot more important things than machines, Y/n.” Gustavo pointed out and took a few steps forward so that he was further from the window.

There was a sense of annoyance now travelling through your tired system, the irritation built up over the entire day officially starting to spark, “Which is exactly why I am trying to apologise.”

“For what? Not knowing that you were going be attacked?”

You shook your head, breaking the intense eye contact as your gaze went back to the ceiling.

Arguing was the last thing that you wanted to do right now. You were tired, weak, hungry, and now had an anger that was eager to erupt.

Two people at fault but both only thinking that one is.

After a few moments of being absorbed by those monotonous beeps again, a deep sigh could be heard. Even though you couldn’t see him anymore, it was clear that he had finally allowed his shoulders to lower. Deflate. “You got hurt.”

“Well, I think I know that, Gus.” you blurted out as your mouth seemed to be faster than your brain. Something that you immediately regretted. “Look...” You raised your head again, your hands subconsciously gliding to where your bandages grasped to your skin, “What happened... Happened.”

“It’s over... Okay-- It doesn’t matter anymore.”

It was a sentence meant to ease the situation. Words formed in a eagerness to get this whole thing over and done with, because you were quite frankly over it yourself, wanting nothing more than to fall into an incredibly deep sleep.

But all it did was make the lines of Gustavo’s face more prominent. The look across it formed into an expression that almost mimicked offense. “Doesn’t... Doesn’t matter-- Listen to yourself.”

“Why aren’t you taking this situation more seriously?”

“Well, did you get what you were after?” you questioned, trying to find at least some form of middle ground that you could then use to clear this whole thing up.

Gustavo scoffed, “I can’t believe you.” He turned himself around again, adopting the same stance from before as he stared through the window.

Your eyebrows were furrowed as much as they possibly could at this point, “Why? This isn’t the first time that something like this has happened, Gus-- Hell, it will happen again.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“It can’t.”

“What do you-- What do you mean it can’t, Gustavo?” you huffed out, the sound almost becoming gargled as you began to push yourself to sit up. But you were determined to ignore the pain pulsing in your side. A deep breath shook through your lips when you got upright.

You carefully began to shuffle yourself backwards, trying to lean more comfortably against the bed, and only made an attempt to speak when you had fully decided your positioning, “The more we progress, the more likely stuff like this is going to take place. You of all people should know that--”

“You almost died!”

It felt like time had stopped for a good minute.

The sound had rung longer than the sentence itself, but you couldn’t tell if it was just the way your mind attempted to process it, or if it was really that loud.

Gustavo had faced you once again, only this time there was this active rage that covered almost every visible inch of him in a way that heavily contrasted the usual stoicism.

It was barely seen, but it looked like his shoulders lowered and raised with every breath. Like he was heaving. Heaving with disbelief, anger... and fear?

“You almost... You.” he had attempted to repeat, but there was this lack of control. An inability to get himself together like he always managed to do any other day.

He took in a deep breath, one that shook more than yours had, and practically forced himself to stand straight, “That attack was meant for me.”

“Because I got... interrupted, I wasn’t there... and then you became the target.” He was trying to gather himself. Trying to make himself look how he usually did by straightening his spine, raising his chin and adopting an expression devoid of any emotion.

But despite trying to adjust the mask.

It was starting to crack.

“Gustavo.”

“I should have gone.” His voice was barely above a whisper now.

To the naked eye he was ridged, but there was this shakiness that could be seen the longer your eyes stayed on him, “I should be the one in that bed... not you.”

“You could’ve...”

One half of his nose slightly crinkled after a moment, in turn raising the left side of his top lip, and he visibly swallowed like the words he was going to speak had a horrid taste.

And then you spotted it.

It was difficult to properly see Gustavo’s eyes through the glasses as light sources reflected onto the lenses almost everywhere he looked, and at first you thought it was in fact just some reflected light.

But it would disappear when he blinked.

“Gustavo.” you spoke after a moment, practically forgetting what you sounded like at this point, and it seemed to snap the man out of his thoughts. “Close the blinds.”

At first he just furrowed his eyebrows. His dazed eyes finally moved from where they had zoned in to meet your own with a sudden confusion. And then they followed the finger pointed towards the window for the doctors.

The abrupt change in atmosphere had him just standing there for a moment, but then due to the crowdedness of his mind, it seemed that it just went on autopilot. He walked through the room, same pace and quietness as before, until he arrived at yet another window.

He cleared his throat, picked the left blind cord to take between two of his fingers and then pulled at it, taking one final look at the hallways outside before they were officially closed.

Now, the lighting of the room was increasingly lowered. You still had a slight source from the sky, but time had done what it did best. It barely brought anything to help maintain the light.

But that was the least of your concerns.

The moment those blinds had reached the ledge of the window, Gustavo's hands pressed onto either side of the surface, and he leant his weight into it in a way that seemed to take it off of his shoulders as they visibly slacked.

It was a movement that had you just staring for a good few seconds.

This was not the Gustavo that you knew. This man before you was not in control of his expressions, the way that he spoke, the way he stood. This was not a man who rose above and administered fear into anyone even if that wasn’t his intent.

This was just a man.

Just Gus.

You, very stiffly, began to try and shuffle yourself sideway across the bed. You didn’t care about the pain that pulsed through your torso, or how it felt like your arms were going to either bend or snap. You kept moving, and only stopped when it was clear to do so.

Pins and needles began to spread through your hand as you patted it down in the space you had created, turning your head more in his direction as you expected him to respond.

But he didn’t.

You stifled a sigh, “Come here, Gustavo.”

He needed a proper command. A verbal set of words that allowed him to comply to the urge you placed in his head. So, after trying to swallow the feelings that were appearing once again, he turned around.

Though this time when he fully faced you, instead of pausing like he needed to convince himself to actually walk, he moved the second his eyes lay on you.

His pace was slow like before, each step getting heavier than the previous one.

He understood.

He understood why you had been acting the way you did, wanted nothing more than to change the subject, and now why you had asked him to close the blinds.

It was to stop the outside from seeing in. Not let any other person bear witness to a moment just for the two of you.

Gustavo lowered himself to sit on the bed, his eyes not daring to leave your own in a way that properly allowed you to see behind the lenses of those glasses.

There was a line of water just peaking over the lower lid. His blinks may have subsided most of it, but it would always come back with the same amount. Sometimes even more.

“I shouldn’t have let you do the job alone.” Gustavo insisted, but it had you shake your head within seconds. “Hey,”

You took one of his hands between yours, trying to shift just a tad bit closer to him even if it hurt, “Gustavo, you need to understand that even if there was another person there, the same thing would’ve happened-- Another person would’ve been hurt instead of just me.”

“Someone would still get shot.”

That was when the eye contact had been broken.

He knew you were right. He knew that even if he had found out what had happened sooner, he wouldn’t have gotten there fast enough to do anything about it.

But there was a vast difference between understanding something and accepting it.

The expression on his face was so unusual to see, more so because it genuinely conveyed his feelings. You could see it in his eyes, the way his lips were starting to press together. Utter guilt despite the continuous insistence that it wasn’t his fault.

The action of removing your hands from his had him out of his thoughts again, though it wasn’t until he blinked that he felt where they had gone.

Each of your palms were placed on either side of his face, the centre firm against his set jaw.

The thumbs of your hands resided above the rest of your fingers, lightly gliding across the textured skin of Gustavo’s cheeks in a way that had him instinctively closing his eyes.

The weight of his head in your hold grew and it looked as if the tension in his muscled finally let him relax, even if it was just for a moment. You wanted him to stay like that forever.

“I’m glad you weren’t there, Gustavo.”

And just like that, the sentence had practically undone the moment of peace. But even when he went to lean back, he made sure that it was a distance that would keep your hands on his face.

The edges of his eyebrows were crinkled again, a mixture of concern and confusion purely visible, “How?”

The way he asked had a smile begging to curl at your lips. Though, due to the muscles of your face being too tired at this point and the fact that this definitely wasn’t the time to do so, you ignored it. “If it was you that got attacked instead of me, they wouldn’t have stopped until there was nothing left.”

Your grasp on his face became a tad more firm. Your eyes began to travel, thinking about the fact that you had never seen him so close for this amount of time before. “A shot in the side means nothing to me.”

“Y/n, how can you possibly say that?” The concern spread further than it had done before, now beginning to form into that same disbelief like it had earlier.

You slightly lowered your chin after a minute, making sure that your eyeline was directly connected to his. And then you just shrugged, a wave of emotions flooding your system at a sudden sense of safety that you had yearned to feel all day, “Because,”

“I would rather die, knowing that you were somewhere safe... alive. Than breathe in a world where you aren’t doing the same.”

It felt like it was going to be another one of those moments. The two of you just going to stare into each others eyes, equally lost. No words available that could even scratch the surface of what either of you felt.

Though it seemed that Gustavo’s ability to maintain a calm exterior faltered. He began to crumble.

His his eyebrows pinched together suddenly, his bottom lip slowly pushing upwards until it shook, and then he lowered his head out of your grasp, a wavering breath huffing out of his mouth.

He tried to speak. Tried to express something that ultimately would be left unknown as he just gave up. Understanding that it wouldn’t be able to come out the way that he wanted it to.

So, he just... sort of slumped. His head dipped a little more, his hand reaching up to grab the glasses that were close to falling.

He was overtaken. Emotions active more than he had let it in so long. Gustavo tried to wipe them away, tried to rid his eyes of the water that practically felt like a river pushing to flood.

But the dam had already been broken.

He just sat there, hands now pressed to face in an attempt to block the tears from going anywhere, even if they had already began to trail between his fingers.

You took the glasses that were almost crumpled in his grasp before folding the legs, and then slowly placed them on the bedside table while trying to ignore the pain that pulsed in your side from the stretch.

You subtly gritted your teeth, willing to forget about any feeling that was trying to present itself as you wanted to focus on Gustavo. You needed to.

So, you reached out, waiting for your hand to cup the back of his head before slowly beginning to guide it forward in a way that ultimately made the rest of his body follow.

And soon, he was laid across your chest, careful to avoid your injury.

The side of his head had managed to make his ear press right over where your heart was. Something that seemed to trigger Gustavo the moment he registered both the feeling and the sound.

Because, for the first time since he had entered the room or laid eyes on you through the window that had now been closed. He had actual confirmation that wasn’t just words from a doctor.

You were not some sick hallucination that was playing his mind, or a lie that he was trying to convince himself of in an attempt to avoid a painful truth and make him feel better. No. You were real.

You were alive.

The next breath that Gustavo took was cut quite abruptly like another had just pushed itself out. It was a sound that caught you off guard, one that you didn’t initially know how to respond to as you thought you were just hearing things.

But then it happened again... and then again. A sound that almost made it seem like he had forgotten how to breathe.

And then you heard what it was trying to cover, something else breaking through the harsh huffs of air.

He was crying.

Properly crying.

Gustavo removed one of the hands from his face and reached it under your arm so that he could grab the back of your shoulder, his fingers grasping onto the fabric the moment they made contact.

It had your arms wrapping around his body within seconds, especially when it had begun to rack with almost guttural like sounds.

His head was fully pressed into your chest now, each of his hands holding onto an arm or a shoulder tightly with such desperation as if you were going to disappear if he let go.

So, you didn’t dare move. You just held him there, unable to escape another pain as you had to simply lay in that bed, holding something that was releasing such raw cries.

Gustavo couldn’t even recognise the sounds himself. The way his body responded, the tears falling freely from his eyes, the harshness that the sobs were rushing out of his lungs. It was unfamiliar. A foreign feeling that swirled through everything else.

Truthfully, he could remember the last time he cried in such a way. He could remember when his feelings were shoved out of him regardless of his wants.

But he couldn’t think of any time when he had allowed himself to do it on his own.

Until now.

~~~

The next few days were filled with pretty much the same routine.

Your injuries would get checked, treated again if the doctors saw fit, and you had to do everything in your power to keep yourself entertained as the channels still weren’t giving you much.

And then, when it would get dark, Gustavo appeared.

He would bring this homemade soup almost every night that had your stomach growling before he had even arrived. It was also a decent sized cup, meaning that if you didn’t finish it, the hospital could store it and reheat it for lunch the next day.

Maybe after a while, others would think that having soup for more than a week would get old at some point... But no. In fact there was different ingredients used in every batch. The change could be miniscule but it was still effective.

The rest of the routine got old fast though. The days started merging, and it soon made you become unsure of when the next started or ended, as it seemed like you had forgotten how to sleep at normal times due to your exhausted system.

But then the time finally came.

The discharge from hospital.

Obviously there was still a whole lot of resting, healing and overall taking everything slow coming your way, which was a hundred percent going to prove to be a challenge. However, with the way that Gustavo appeared right by your side, even if it was just a facial expression that proved you were having difficulty, it gave you enough assurance. Comfort.

There was no word to accurately express your feelings the moment the car had pulled to a stop in the driveway. Your driveway.

What you saw out the window wasn’t a picture you had tried to think up multiple times in your head. It was just right in front of you. A house that seemed larger than you had remembered.

It almost startled you when the car door suddenly got pulled open, but after a blink you registered his figure, spotted the hands that were out and ready to aid you.

The process of shimmying your way off of the car seat was a bit of a hassle, however, your legs eventually hung out of the car, feet finally meeting with solid ground once again.

Soon, you had actually arrived inside the house. 

Gustavo was to your right, stood carefully, in a way that would completely cross out any possibility of further injuring the other side of your body, as he guided you through those familiar halls which almost gave you a feeling of nostalgia. Even if it wasn’t that long ago that you walked within them.

A new wave of tiredness hit you after about a step into the living room you had yearned to see. 

Everything looked the same, furniture and even the objects of décor still placed so intricately as if the room hadn’t been lived in or touched.

It smelled the same too.

“Were you cooking this morning?” you questioned, voice a bit more groggy than before, as a sort of smoky scent presented itself to your nostrils. Gustavo hummed, carefully pulling at your shoulder to direct you around the rectangular coffee table.

“You know I can walk by myself, right?” you pointed out, trying to turn your head to get a look at his face but he had moved behind you when the two of you got between the edge of the table and an armchair at the same time.

“Of course.” was all Gustavo said, still holding onto you regardless. And finally, you had reached the couch of your dreams.

Even though you had been laying around all day every day for weeks on end, the relief that filled your system over not having to walk anymore almost had your knees buckling.

“Okay,” Gustavo spoke just above a whisper, lightly turning you so that you faced the TV, “Slowly.”

A deep breath sifted in and out of your lungs. Your grip on his arm tightened and after looking in his eyes for a good few seconds, you began to lower yourself in the speed he insisted on. “There you go.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

Your nose was scrunched, along with your eyes, the further you bent as the movement slightly began to fold more and more of your body. You lost count of how many times you tried to stifle a hiss from the sharp pains that kept coming.

But even when officially sat down on the soft couch, the discomfort unfortunately remained.

You slowly leaned backwards, allowing your injured side to stretch out in a way that was fully comfortable, until your back pressed into the pillows. There was a sigh of relief that huffed out of your mouth all at once and it had the tiniest smile curling at Gustavo’s lips.

“Better?” he questioned and despite your urge to close your eyes, you just looked at him. “Better. Thank you,” you confirmed, reaching out to grab one of his hands.

But before your own could meet his, it had suddenly lowered with the rest of his body. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him get onto his knees, even pushing the coffee table away so that he had more space.

And then his hands landed on your shoes, “Oh, Gustavo, you don’t--”

“Relax.”

He lifted one foot at a time, placing the bottom of your shoe on his thigh so that he could properly attack the laces. And soon, both pairs were off of your feet, now held in a singular hand.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Your voice was more hushed this time, timid, as you looked down at the man who now was just looking right back at you. And then he smiled. Such a simple, but full, smile that fit his face perfectly.

Gustavo then pressed his free hand onto the floor, moved himself back a little, and then let out a slight grunt as pushed himself up to his feet.

When he had done so you had thought he was just go, leave to bring the shoes to the area you usually kept them, so you had started to shuffle your self further into the couch.

But the next thing you knew, one of your hands was brough in a gentle grasp. The step that Gustavo had taken was to get closer to the couch, and you.

He sort of hunched forward after a moment, bringing your intertwined hands his way. And then, when it was at a perfect distance, he turned them until the back of your palm faced him.

He brought his lips to your warm skin, the soft but mildly jagged skin pressing down for a good few seconds as the breath through his nostrils slightly tickled you. And then he lifted his head a little.

Gustavo met your eyes with such a wide smile that it had almost bared his teeth.

“I did.”

And after a quick squeeze to your hand, that was that. He let go.

Gustavo adjusted the grip he had on the shoes in his other hand and simply turned, retracing his steps around the coffee table before disappearing into the hallway.

Your hand was still hung in the air. Stuck same position it had been when with Gustavo’s... and then you left it fall to your chest, landing right on top of your heart that was beating so fast that you could immediately feel it.

The smile on your face was one that felt impossibly to get off.

There was a long journey still to go, and a lot of pain to follow, but there was almost no worry when you thought about it. Because, like you had convinced to convince Gustavo of earlier, you made it.

You made it back home.

#gustavo fring x reader #breaking bad x reader #better call saul x reader #gustavo fring #gender neutral reader #gus fring x reader

[kerryweaverlesbian]

for the prompts! 9&13 combined 👀👀

(From this post) (also here's the last one I did).

Castiel had escaped to the empty kitchen at the earliest opportunity as soon as the number of people in the map room had exceeded 8. He doesn't mind crowds, he quite likes them outside - the warm, hurried rush of humanity is quite endearing - but he'd become accustomed to there being a maximum of 4 in the Bunker, including him, so it feels almost claustrophobic to have more, even somewhere as large as this.

He's not surprised that Dean came to find him two hours in, though he is a little surprised that it took him so long.

"There's just so many of them," Dean complains, a little muffled against Cas's shirt, "I think the fuckers are multiplying. I turn around, there's two of them, I look again, there's five."

"The creation of a new prophet is a cosmic event. I certainly would have noticed," Cas says, mildly. He strokes soothingly down Dean's back with one hand, and takes a sip of coffee with the other. Dean grumbles and blindly pushes the coffee mug away from his head when it brushes against him, squeezing into Cas tighter with the strong arms around his waist.

"How many prophets does one god need? There's not that much interesting stuff that happens in the world. And more importantly, why the hell do they have to come here?"

"You invited them."

"Kevin invited them!"

"Because you told him to."

"Well, the kid needs more friends! He can't just hang out with you, me, Sam and Garth for the rest of his life. Anyway, it's definitely working out, I haven't even seen him for over an hour."

"I think he went to his room."

"What?" Dean pulls his head back from his embrace, appalled.

"He said he wasn't feeling up to it."

Actually, he'd muttered stupid Dean, stupid Bunker, stupid prophets, I wish none of them had ever been born, fuck my life, this is the Andover middle school dance all over again as he'd loaded his arms with chips and stormed out of the kitchen in the opposite direction to the gathering, but Castiel's powers of extrapolation had been improving over recent years.

"Then who the hell is this party for?" Dean complains, but he doesn't resist when Cas pulls him back to his nuzzled in position. He likes having Dean here, choosing his company as the antidote to others. Dean belongs in any place that brings him comfort, and Cas is lucky that in his arms is where Dean frequently finds it.

"It appears to be for 47 strangers who are better at getting along than we are." Then he tips his head. "48."

"What?" Dean squawks, pushing back from Cas's chest with alarm.

"They're multiplying."

Dean laughs, "You're an asshole."

Cas agrees with a hum. "You like that about me."

"Sure do. Get over here."

Dean's kiss is lingering, sweet and tender, and Cas's chest glows with it. It takes a second for Cas to open his eyes after, and he's treated to Dean's warm, relaxed grin.

"I guess I better go get rid of them so we can all stop hiding, huh?"

"That would be wise," Cas agrees, but tugs onto Dean's outer shirt when he starts to turn, "You've got..."

He smooths fixes the front of Dean's hair where it'd got smooshed in his impromptu snuggles with gentle fingers, then brushes his thumb over Dean's eye crinkles with affection on the way down from it, since he was in the area. The warmth in Dean's gaze when Cas meets his eyes again cannot be overstated, matched only by the feeling in Cas's own heart. He gets kissed again, and would've been happy to continue that way all through the party, but then there's a crashing noise from the direction of the war room, followed by laughter, which wrenches Dean's attention away.

"That's it," Dean says, untucking his gun from the back of his jeans, "I'm clearing house. Two minutes, tops, and we're free and clear."

Cas wishes him luck as he , and 30 seconds later there's the sound of a gunshot and Dean's voice authoritatively saying "Y'all better haul ass out of my house right now or the next one's hitting a body!", then the desperate scrambling of 47 people scrambling out of a single door.

In 30 seconds less than Dean's suggested timeframe, the place is empty but for its regular inhabitants again. Cas smiles into his coffee cup. They don't need anyone else to be happy.

@hauntedpearl hi Doe!!!! thank you for the prompts!! which were: Pressing their face into the other's neck, hiding from the world and brushing away an unruly lock of hair. I had been working on a Jo/Bela for this one but it wasn't working, and this one suddenly came to me in a vision this morning. So sappy. They love each otherrrrr. PS Sam's hiding in the armory lol. Not one of them likes big parties.

#deancas ficlet #destiel #I lorve them #gun violence #(< just in case. Dean doesn't actually shoot anyone lol.) #cawis creates

[lookismaddict]

Lookism: Rendezvous 🔞 (Ch. IV) || Gun Park x Fem! Reader ♡

Author’s Note: Hello, thank you for being patient! I’m glad that there are people who read the chapters to my Rendezvous series. If you noticed that in the previous chapter the first part of the chapter got deleted, this was because I realized that it didn’t align to the story at all. It was better to remove that part to prevent confusion in the story. I hope you all don’t mind me doing that. This chapter will be a special one since it’s longer than the other chapters and there will be lots of light-hearted fluff with some playful spice. Also, I included some IRL stuff, like actual locations in Seoul, but my descriptions for each place may not be accurate because I’ve never been there, so I apologize in advance. Consider this 2-in-1 chapter as a gift from me to you for reading this far. I hope you’ll enjoy it! ;)

NSFW Warning: Violence, strong language/cursing, vulgar language, and sexual content (teasing, suggestive content, groping, penetration, degrading, etc.).

Story Summary: You traveled abroad to help support your mother who is sick, back home in Japan. However, once you reached Korea, everything went downhill until you met a stranger who offered you a deal that could benefit you. But who knew that this special encounter would turn your whole life around…

Almost two weeks had gone by so quickly, that you’ve gotten so tired from the continuous training that Gun put you through. He wasn’t kidding when he said that training would get even more intense each day.

All this time, he’s been training you mainly in Kyokushin Karate. You adopted the basics really well in the first week and everyday, he made you endure harsh training.

For instance, there was a day when Gun had assigned you to run twenty laps around in the backyard to improve your stamina. Afterwards, he made you practice one hundred punches and one hundred kicks all on the last day of the first week. Did you eat lunch that day? Well, you better believe that you didn’t! Gun had made you suffer to turn your heart and soul into fighting.

Most of the time, however, he had gotten even more harsher towards you and he became more and more absent each day. He would just assign you to practice certain techniques and then leave you to do the rest, as if he was avoiding you. You realized that this started on the third day of training…

Out of nowhere, you woke up from loud banging on your door. You jolted up from your bed right away, wondering who was making such a racket early in the morning.

“(Y/N) wake up! What the hell are you sleeping in late for?! You have five minutes just to get ready, then meet me downstairs!!!”

You heard Gun’s voice boom in anger from behind the door. You’ve never heard his voice so angry like that, that it made you nervous as hell.

Shit! What time is it?!

You checked your phone and it was a bit past six forty-five in the morning.

Crap, I’m late! Why didn’t I turn my alarm on before I went to bed? I always did that! How could I have forgotten?!

You hurried to the bathroom to get yourself ready and while you got out of the bathroom to get dressed, you remembered that last night you were watching Korean drama on the couch. You could’ve sworn that you did that, yet you wondered how did you even get back to your bed?

What even happened last night after I dozed off? Ugh whatever, this isn’t the time to worry about that right now!

After you got dressed, you ran out of your room then sped down the stairs like your feet were made of lightning. When you got downstairs, there was a protein bar left on the table where you met Gun. This time, he was dressed in one of his many proper suit and tie outfits. He was just sitting there while crossing his arms, waiting in silence. When he locked eyes with you through those wide-rimmed sunglasses of his, he gave you the most deadliest glare that you’ve ever seen in your life.

You apologetically bowed at him multiple times while saying “I’m sorry!” while pleading for forgiveness. However this time, he didn’t let it slide.

“I told you last time not to be late, and for what? Did that not stick into your head at all?! Did you not understand our deal, (Y/N)?! You’re supposed to take this seriously and yet you arrived late like I’m your fucking dog who’s willing to wait for you! How the hell did you manage to […]”

While munching on your protein bar, you got the gist of his morning earful of a lecture. The scolding of a man who was once calm and collected converted into a monster, suddenly disappeared as your ears tuned out the harsh words while it goes into one ear then comes right out of the other.

Ten minutes had passed and he didn’t hesitate to make your life a living hell. Instead of continuing his lectures on how to punch and kick properly, he decided that you should be the one to demonstrate to him what you’ve remembered so far as if you’re the student who will recite back a poem to their teacher. But this time, you had to mimic and show Gun how it’s properly done. For this occasion, he got out a foldable chair and placed it underneath the tree where he had the Makiwara at.

His rules were simple. He’ll tell you to do an action or a technique on the spot and then you’ll have to do it properly in front of him. If you don’t do it right, then he’ll tell you to repeat the move again until he says it’s right.

That’s simple enough. I already done them countless of times, so I should be fine.

For the first move, he told you to do a kick aiming towards the head of your opponent. You did so, by mimicking what Gun did from your previous training sessions. The look on your face says it all, as you smiled proudly at what you just did. Your mood at that moment was starting to get better until you heard the words, “Do it again.” by Gun.

Okay then, one more time.

You repeated the move again then turned to Gun for approval. “Again.”

You repeated it five times, which turned into ten. Then twenty. Then fifty. Then eighty. Then one hundred and thirty.

Your legs was already tired from doing the move repeatedly. You had it with the last, “Again.” that left his mouth as you stormed towards him in anger.

“I’ve been doing this at least a hundred times already, even though I’ve been doing it right all this time.”

Gun raised an eyebrow. “Says who?”

You gritted your teeth while clenching your fists. “Since you think that I’ve been doing it wrong all this time, are you really just going to sit there and behave like an asshat without giving me any tips or clues on HOW to improve myself?”

“Hm…” Gun folded his arms while looking up at the clear sunny sky. “Yes. It’s your fault that you’ve been doing it wrong all this time. I bet you didn’t even pay attention that well.”

This sadistic bastard…

During that time, you swore on your life that you were about to punch that man in the face.

“Gun…”

“Mr. Park.”

“What?”

“It’s Mr. Park.”

This man is just begging for it.

“MR. PARK. Did I do anything wrong to upset you?”

“No, not really.”

“Then… why the petty treatment?”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘petty’ if you couldn’t even handle the training in the first place.”

“Oh, is that so?”

You inched closer to Gun then stopped right in front of his seat. All of a sudden, you grabbed onto his tie and pulled him towards you, forcing him to look up at you from his seat. You leaned in closer to him and whispered in his ear.

“You really just woke up today and chose violence huh, Mr. Park? If it’s a fight you want, then it’s a fight you’ll get…”

Well that took an unexpected turn. Gun was so shocked that he didn’t know what to do at that point. If you hadn’t looked even further down, you would have seen how turned on he was at that moment. He was definitely going to have some UNUSUAL dreams that week. However, he smacked your hand away from him then stood up immediately while straightening his tie.

You looked at him confused as he walked past towards you then said, “Go ahead and do fifty punches, fifty kicks, and fifty sit-ups for today. I have other business to take care of. Right after you’re done here, remember to heat up some food again from the fridge.”

Gun was about to leave until you decided to confront him about what happened last night.

“Wait.”

He stopped in his tracks as you turned to look at his back.

“Did you bring me up to my room last night while I was sleeping on the couch?”

He turned his head around to meet your eyes with a cold dead stare.

“What are you talking about? You must’ve been dreaming too deeply if you’ve decided to confuse your dreams with actual reality.”

At that, Gun left you without even saying a word. For the rest of the day, you haven’t seen him at all since you locked yourself in your room. Until the following day, he started assigning you things to do and left without providing any proper reasons to why he had to go. After that day, that became your actual routine.

When the second week came around, you barely got to see him in the mornings and afternoons now. There was this never-ending tension between the two of you that it made you anxious to the core to even look at him every day for only about ten minutes.

One night, you were heading upstairs to your room right after finishing a k-drama. It was five minutes before midnight and when you were about to open the door to your room, you heard the front door from downstairs open. From the second-floor balcony, you were curious to see Gun again so you took a quick peek.

When he returned home, he was dressed up in one of his fancy gray suits. But this time, his suit was mostly covered in blood. Not like when he just finished beating up people which was not much, but this time, he’s ACTUALLY injured.

Your eyes widened in fear, worried that he might have seriously damaged a part of his body. Without hesitation, you dashed down the stairs towards him.

“Oh my god, what happened?! Are you okay???”

He looked at your worried eyes then immediately tried to dismiss you saying, “This is nothing. Just go to sleep already.”

“No, I won’t! You’re bleeding!!!”

Your eyes scanned his body, seeing that there was blood seeping out from his chest area, and blood coming out from one of his arms.

“Do you have a first aid kit anywhere? I’ll help you treat your wounds.”

It looked like you were determined to stay by his side until you treated him, so how could he say no? Gun knew that you’d keep insisting regardless if he refuses your assistance. Because of this, he decided to just accept it and just get it over with.

“It’s behind the bar.”

You hurried behind the counter of the bar and found the first aid kit. While he watched you get it, he sat on the couch. Quickly, you grabbed onto it, then scurried back to him as you sat next to him on the couch. You helped him remove his suit first. As your hands were about to unbutton his white long sleeved shirt underneath his suit, you completely hesitated while questioning yourself if this was a good idea in the first place. He saw the hesitation in your eyes as he said, “Hurry up. I’m bleeding over here.” to push you to get it over with.

“R-right…” you slowly unbuttoned his shirt for him from his collar all the way down to the bottom of his shirt then helped him removed it afterwards. You noticed how muscular and how in-shape his body was. His muscles were toned and you’ve never seen such good-looking features so close like this before, which made you so astonished.

Finally, you opened up the first aid kit then started by disinfecting his wounds. You got the alcohol from inside it, then dabbled a bit of it on a cotton ball while handling it with a tweezer.

“This is going to sting a bit, so don’t move too much.”

With a tweezer, you lightly patted it onto the wounds on his chest. You were impressed by how he didn’t even flinch at the stinging sensation of the alcohol meeting his wounds. You thought that he must’ve gotten used to it, since this was his life after all.

Gun sat there patiently while watching you treat his wounds properly. All this time, he’s been avoiding you so the both of you wouldn’t get too close to each other. That day when he carried you to your bed was the day that made him realize that he needed to cut his physical attachment to you. It’ll only just cause him to worry about the littlest things that shouldn’t even be important.

However, now that he’s back within your grasp again, his plan failed. It was unavoidable for him to be physically associated with you, especially if you live in his own house. This made him realize how he was the one being the fool here and he shouldn’t have been cold towards you ever since that day when he started to distance himself from you. He could sense that you didn’t have any bad intentions towards him, despite how coldly he’s been acting towards you. You were more kind-hearted in nature compared to him. A horrible man who lives in the world of violence and corruption. Even if he tried to maintain his businesses the legal way, they always ended up in ruin.

Sometimes, whenever he’d come from that exhausting world of bloodshed, he thought that it wasn’t so bad to have someone there to come home to who would greet him. Even if that someone was you. You had made his days more eventful by seeing you and by being with you. He missed the constant bickering between you two and the way you’d sometimes tease him for acting a certain way. Even when you had done something out of the ordinary from most women that he’d met. That all never fails to make him look forward to the next day and the next.

“And… that should be good.”

After bandaging his arm, your job was done. In addition, even the wounds on his chest were patched up nicely. You’ve handled his wounds pretty well, despite not having a degree in the medical field.

“Make sure not to move around too much or else your wounds will open up again. Don’t touch them either and just let them heal for a while. Well, I’ll be going to bed now. Goodni-“

When you got up from the couch and was about to return the first aid kit from where it belongs, Gun suddenly grabbed onto your wrist, not letting you go. You reacted by turning your head around quickly in confusion as you looked at him staring deep into your eyes.

“I’m sorry, for leaving you alone all this time. You must’ve been lonely without me being here and for that, I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened as you abruptly looked away. You bit your bottom lip, trying to hide back the tears that started to form in your eyes. All this time, you blamed yourself for how distant the two of you grew apart from each other these past few days. You were wondering what you did wrong for him to act so coldly towards you, and if the real reason ran any deeper than that.

His grasp on your wrist slowly released, as you swiftly wiped your tears away feeling embarrassed that he might see you like this.

“It’s alright. I understand that you were just busy.”

After putting away the first aid kit, Gun stood up while carrying his clothes over his shoulder as he walked around half naked. At the same time, you both went up the stairs together then stopped right in front of your room.

“Well, this is my stop. Goodnight.”

He nodded at you once again. Before heading to his room, he said, “Thanks for today.”

You smiled at him then said, “Anytime.” before opening and closing the door behind you. You leaned against the door of your room and smiled to yourself, thinking about what just happened between you two.

“I hope his wounds heal quickly.”

Nearing the end of the second week, your training became more gruesome than before. Since Gun had already taught you the basics, he wanted you to be put to the test.

He decided to hold mock fights, which were fights that shouldn’t be taken lightly but not too much to kill someone. After all, he still needed to keep you alive. When these mock fights took place, Gun was excited to see how much you’ve really grown in progress.

All of your movements were almost perfected. Your punches, your kicks, and your blocks combined became sights to marvel at for him. Compared to the week before, your strength became terrifyingly stronger.

Now, your movements were more agile and you were much more cunning than a fox. From this, he found you even more attractive by the day. Your hits and attacks were more powerful as the impact from getting hit once will definitely land him on the ground this time.

During the mock fight, you came at him at every direction. From the front, from his sides, even from up in the air, you didn’t hesitate at all. Your stamina from your previous training sessions have improved, barely even stopping to catch your breath. Really, you were in the zone. Your eyes remained sharp and focused. Also, your breathing became more controlled than before.

While Gun was about to come for a jab, you dodged him swiftly as he barely missed you by a hair. Eventually while he reached out to you to grab onto your shirt by the collar to pin you down, you bent your knees almost as low to the ground then spun wildly in front of him, kicking him by the ankles and knocking him off of his feet. You saw that even from that low kick you just did, he was about to pull himself up with one hand but you grabbed onto his arm then pressed it onto his chest. At the same time, you pinned him down by sitting on top of him. You trapped him in between your legs, locking him with your knees. With one of your arms, you kept his arm pinned on his chest then striked with a punch to the ground, right next to his head as his eyes were staring right at yours from below you. The punch near his head had caused a major fracture on the ground due to the hard impact of your fist.

At that very moment, your body finally gave up its strength as you collapsed onto him. You were too tired to notice that you were pressed up against his body, as you laid there on top of him heaving heavily. As you were trying to recollect your tired self, you felt Gun’s free hand lay on top of your back.

“Well done, (Y/N). You’ve improved immensely.”

You looked up at him and smiled while sweating profusely. “Thanks!”

“Also, since it’s almost the end of the month, I’d like to give you a reward.”

Your head tilted a bit to the side, curiously. “A reward? For what?”

“For your hard work. You’ve kept up with the training and your skills have blossomed greatly. And for that, I’m taking you out to eat dinner for tonight.”

Your eyes widened in excitement. “What? Really?! Oh my god, I haven’t been out in a while! I almost felt like a hermit being stuck in here-”

“Don’t push it.”

“Sorry…”

It’s true though.

Just seeing that huge smile on your face made Gun feel some type of way. It was a strange feeling that he still couldn’t quite figure it out. It was like his chest was being squeezed from the inside. Was it because you were still pressing against him that he’s feeling this way? He couldn’t tell.

“(Y/N).”

“Hm?”

You sat up properly then looked down at him.

“When are you going to get off of me?”

Huh?

Finally, you realized that you were still sitting on top of him, with your hands on his chest.

“I’m so sorry!!!”

Panicked, you stood up as soon as possible as you took a few steps back from him. You placed both of your hands on your face, pressing your sweaty palms onto your burning cheeks.

Ugh, how embarrassing.

Gun saw your rushed reaction from the corner of his eye, then chuckled lightly to himself.

“What a strange woman.” he mumbled.

He cleared his throat after getting himself up and patting his clothes down from the grass.

“I almost forgot to mention. When you’re out with me, dress decently. I’ll come pick you up in a few hours. I still have some things to take care of outside. Make sure that you’re ready to leave by the time I get back.”

As he walked in front of you to head back inside, you nodded before walking side by side with him.

It was close to five in the evening and you were getting dressed until you heard the notification ding go off from your phone. You grabbed your phone from the bedside table and checked to see who it was from. It was a text message from Gun that said,

“Meet me in front of the house in 10 min.”

You replied with a thumbs-up emoji as you got your small brown satchel before leaving your room. The history behind that satchel was that you bought it from the weekly outdoor neighborhood market held at your old neighborhood back in Japan. You named it “Old Reliable”.

Hehe, my favorite bag.

When you got to the bottom of the stairs, you made sure that you had everything with you before you opened the door to leave.

Phone? Check. Wallet? Check. Alright, everything’s here. Time to head out!

You swung the door open then slowly closed it behind you. Right on time, Gun pulled up into the driveway right in front of you in his tinted Rolls Royce car. As he unlocked the right door next to the driver’s seat, he rolled down the window for him to speak to you. He was already dressed fancily, in his black evening Louis Vuitton gentleman’s suit that he rarely wears for special occasions. On his sleeves, you spotted gold cufflinks that matched his expensive suit.

“Get in, we’ve got-”

His voice trailed off into silence as he stared at your outfit.

“What are you wearing?”

“What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

He was eyeing your “I <3 Tokyo” shirt and your Bermuda shorts that was paired with cheap sandals.

“I told you to wear something decent. Your outfit looks like you’re just going to buy a quick meal at a convenience store.”

“What? What do you mean?! You told me to wear something ‘decent’ so I’m wearing something decent. At least I don’t look like a bum!”

Gun’s poker face spoke louder than words.

“Just get in the damn car. Now we have to make a few stops before we eat.”

“Hmph.”

Irritated, you scrunched your eyebrows as you opened the door then got into the seat next to him. Afterwards you slammed the door behind you before turning away from him in your seat while crossing your arms. The dinner hasn’t even started yet and the two of you were already in a bad mood.

In about thirty minutes, Gun parked the car in an empty spot right in front of a classy looking building, with very unique architecture. It was a beautiful building that you’ve never seen before, as its design rivaled all of the other buildings surrounding it. The glass panes were designed so curved-like that it drew you to it in fascination.

While the both of you exited the car, you asked Gun, “Where are we?”

Gun simply replied by saying, “Cheongdam-dong.”

You looked around you, observing your surroundings until one building in particular caught your attention and it was the one that so happened to be standing right in front of you.

“Wow, pretty.” you breathed out loud as your eyes twinkled, until you realized that this place was no ordinary place.

Wait a minute… he must be joking.

Your mouth dropped to the floor when you read the huge words, “Louis Vuitton” that was framed on the building in front of you.

LOUIS VUITTON?! WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE? I THOUGHT WE WERE HAVING DINNER?

Gun then walked ahead of you then turned his head around as a smug smile was plastered on his face.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

You blinked at him a few times dumbstruck, as you hurried and followed right behind him.

A bunch of store employees bowed and greeted him right as he entered the store. You just watched at his interactions with one of the employees as you stood there behind him.

“Good evening, Mr. Park. Are you here to pick up any orders that you’ve made?”

“No, I’m here to buy new clothing for someone.”

“Oh? This is so rare Mr. Park! Who will you be buying clothes for today?”

Gun gestured towards me. “For her.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you harshly whispered to him from behind, “Hey, what the hell are you saying?! I don’t need anything, so you can just forget it!”

The employee peeked from over Gun’s shoulder, as she silently scanned you from head to toe. You stood there awkwardly as you stopped whispering to Gun abruptly. Afterwards, she turned back to Gun again as if you didn’t exist.

“Oh my, sir. You’re so generous! What type of clothes would you like to buy for her?”

For some reason, the employee’s tone when she said “generous” rubbed you the wrong way as you glared at her from behind Gun.

“Something elegant and proper that would pair her with what I’m currently wearing.”

“Alright sir, I’ll see what I can do. You may pick any piece from our updated catalogue.”

She grabbed a binder on top of a counter that displayed expensive jewelry then handed it to Gun.

He flipped through the pages and pointed at a few clothing, while showing her the ones that he chose as he stood side by side with the employee.

“Have her try, this one… this one… this one… this one… and this one right here.”

The employee smiled then bowed at Gun. “Will do, Mr. Park. Please take a seat over there while we fit her into the right clothing that you’ve chosen for her.”

He nodded at her, then turned around to face you. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“W-what…?”

“Oh and, give me your bag.”

“What?! What are you going to do with Old Reliable?!”

“Old… Old Reliable? Who names their bags? And besides, it’s not like I’m going to do anything bad to it. Just what the hell do you take me for?”

You were suspiciously eyeing him as you hesitantly handed it over to him.

Once he had your bag in his hands, he smirked at you before walking towards one of the empty seats in front of the fitting room. As he sat down, he dropped your bag nonchalantly onto a seat next to him then picked up a “Men’s Trending Styles” magazine and looked through it. However, when he let go of it, your bag skidded off of the nearby seat as it accidentally dropped onto the floor.

That son of a…

“Gun, wait!”

You were about to chase after him until the employee that he was talking with had grabbed onto your arm and guided you towards the opposite direction where the fitting room was.

“Right this way, ma’am.”

You had no choice but to comply and trust them with your new chosen wardrobe look.

. . .

Fifteen minutes have passed, as Gun glanced at his Rolex watch and saw that it was six past ten. He was wondering what it was taking you so long for you to get changed.

Gun placed the magazine he had back on the table where he found it from. He grabbed onto your bag then stood up. He was about to walk towards the fitting room until he saw the curtains to the fitting room draped open.

“Damn, what took you so long to…”

Right in front of him, was a you that looked like a completely different person. Gold glittery hoop earrings dangled from your ears that had the letters LV on each side. You were dressed in a two-piece black silk top and pencil skirt with a slit on the side, barely showing off your left leg. The delicate black silk top was a long-sleeved blouse which had intricate gold buttons centered all the way down the blouse and was tucked into the skirt. The skirt was sleek and had a gold embroidered LV print on the side, showing off your elegant figure. On your shoulder was a special edition black and white Louis Vuitton handbag, which had the LV pattern spread throughout its surface. And lastly, your shoes were tall black high heels which had LV gemstones centered at the front of each shoe.

As Gun looked at you up and down, he thought for a second that he was staring at a goddess. He couldn’t stop staring at how drop dead gorgeous you were in the clothes that he had chosen for you. At that very moment, he was left speechless. Throughout the store, all of the focus was on you that even the employees were marveling at how pretty you looked in your new outfit.

Gun cleared his throat before walking towards you. You shyly looked away from him as you looked down at the expensive clothes that you were currently wearing.

“H-how does it look…?”

In Gun’s mind, he was thinking of the words “breath-taking” and “stunning”, yet not even a single word could escape from his mouth.

You took the silence from him as a sign of disappoint, as you bashfully twirled your finger on the side zipper of your skirt.

“I knew it. These types of clothes doesn’t even suit me. I’m sorry that I wasted your time. I’ll just go and-”

As you turned on your heel to go back to the fitting room, he grabbed onto your arm, preventing you to leave from his sight.

“Don’t. It really does suit you.”

You slowly turned your head around to view his face, which looked like he just mustered enough courage just to say it in front of you. In your head, you couldn’t help but laugh and thought that he was adorable. You warmly smiled up at him, placing your hand on top of his hand, that was still gripping your arm. While doing so, you felt your heart started to beat rapidly as the both of you inched closer together while still locking eyes with one another. The room was moving in slow motion around you, until-

“Mr. Park, You have excellent taste! I already removed the tags already, since it looks like that you’ll be purchasing the items right away. Also, I put her original clothes in a separate bag just for you.”

The employee who helped you out held out her hand, holding a Louis Vuitton shopping bag with your old clothes in it.

What a way to kill the mood.

You immediately backed away from him, startled by the employee. While you were backing up, one of your heels tripped on a cable wire on the floor which was connected to a nearby light display of featured bags, which caused you to stumble backwards. You closed your eyes, expecting your back to come in contact with the floor, but you didn’t. When your eyes slowly fluttered open, you saw Gun’s face right in front of yours. Not to mention, the feeling of his strong arm wrapped around your waist while his other arm was supporting your back from falling, was enough for your face to turn bright red.

What in the k-drama shit is this?!

Your mind couldn’t process what was currently happening, as you were almost at the edge of disassociating. Meanwhile, the employees who saw what just happened were squealing in excitement at what they just witnessed in front of them. For instance, one employee said, “Oh my god, did you see that? She’s so lucky!” While another one said, “I wish I had an Oppa who would buy me stuff then save me from falling like that!”

“Are you okay?”

Gun was staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion while still holding onto you in his arms. Embarrassed, you quickly regained your balance by holding onto his shoulders to help yourself stand up properly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He sighed while taking the bag from the speechless employee that was still standing in front of you two.

“Be careful next time and don’t be an airhead.”

“An airhead?!”

As he walked towards the cashier to pay for the clothing and accessories, you scoffed while crossing your arms.

“How can he be such a gentleman and a dick at the same time?” you whispered to yourself while waiting for him to finish the payment.

After buying the clothes for you, all of the employees walked you both out of the store then waved goodbye at the both of you. You were just following Gun while walking down the street to your next apparent destination.

“Oh, I’ll take that.”

As you reached for the shopping bag with your old clothes in it, he dodged your reach while holding the bag even farther from you.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll be the one to carry it for you.”

“Um, okay. But where are we going though?”

“You’ll see.”

When you reached your destination by foot, your feet were already killing you due to the heels as you went inside a fancy beauty parlor with Gun.

The cashier at the front desk greeted the two of you as she said, “Hi! What can I do for you?”

Gun pointed at you then told the woman behind the counter, “Give her the best treatment you’ve got.”

“Okay sir, just wait here and we’ll take care of her for you right away!”

With just those words, you were sent off to the wild once again.

A hair stylist made you sit down on a hair salon chair, where they styled your hair with an iron hair curler. Afterwards, a makeup artist and a nail manicurist did your makeup and your nails for you. They were gossiping away about famous Korean drama actors and actresses when they were pampering you nicely. All this time, you were wondering if this is what it really means to be living as a real “woman”.

All of these became new experiences for you. You’ve never dreamt about doing all this since you didn’t have enough money to even waste on such things that didn’t matter to you. However, you came to the realization that you wouldn’t have done this once-in-a-lifetime thing if it wasn’t for Gun, who took you to all these expensive places so far.

The hair stylist that did your hair caught you smiling to yourself as she asked, “What’s this? You thinking about your boyfriend waiting for you at the front?”

“Huh? Oh, no no no! He’s not my-”

The makeup artist jumped in as she said, “Awww, how cute. You’re so lucky to have such a handsome man as your boyfriend!”

“No, really, we’re not a-”

“Don’t be shy dear, and have some confidence! Be proud that you have such a hunk of a man. We’ve all been dying to see one come in here, but we rarely even see such fine eye candy. Right ladies?” said the older manicurist in admiration.

The rest of the beauticians nodded in agreement.

You just laughed in full embarrassment.

He’s not my boyfriend though…

“You’re all set ma’am!”

One of them brought over a mirror for you to take a look, and wow. They really did a good job. Once your eyes met the reflection of that mirror, you were completely unrecognizable. The work they did on you was incredible, especially the makeup. Who knew that the power of makeup would turn you into a different person? Your hair was all feathered and curled softly, while your makeup seemed natural. Not too bold, but still managed to make you look a little different. Your nails were done as almond French tipped nails, which were classic and beautiful at the same time. The tips of your nails were painted white while the rest of their color were polished in light natural pink.

“Oh my god, you’re so pretty! You really do look like a famous person!”

“Ah, to be that gorgeous is such a blessing. If you and your boyfriend ever do get married and have children one day, they will definitely be beautiful!”

Your cheeks started to heat up from that last unexpected comment as you watched the stylists around you giggle in delight.

. . .

After they were done with your treatment, they finally released you. They guided you back to where Gun was waiting for you near the front desk. While slowly walking towards him, your eyes met his as he stood up to see your final reveal.

Gun believed you were already pretty, but who knew that you could be even more beautiful than any woman he’d ever crossed paths with. Just standing there in front of him made him admit to himself that you are definitely his dream girl. Just everything about you was perfect. Your gorgeous face, the way your curves show off your perfect figure, your silky smooth hair, your relentless strength, your selflessness, and your amazing personality made him feel something different towards you. Even your imperfections were perfect to him, even though he wouldn’t have thought so at the very beginning of your encounter with him. However, he wondered what you were doing to him that made him feel so unlike himself recently. What type of effect did you really have on him? How can someone as cold as himself, suddenly be so moved by someone who’s the complete opposite of himself? All of these thoughts running through his head made him lose track of what was happening right in front of him.

“Gun, is everything alright?”

His consciousness seem to have returned to him as he saw you waving your hand in front of his face, trying to get his attention.

“I’m alright.”

The beauticians who were watching the two of you were smiling and giggling. You heard one of them said to the rest of them, “Aww, look at them having their little moment. He’s so speechless to see his girlfriend all dressed up and fixed just for him!” While they started to cheer you two on behind you, you turned around to see what they were doing behind you then reacted shyly as your face started to burn in embarrassment once again.

Ah geez, not again. Why can’t they just take the hint already?

From Gun’s peripheral vision, he glanced to see the specialists who gave you your treatment to be watching the two of you, which made him take a step back from you then cleared his throat. “They did a great job at taking care of you.”

“Oh yeah? I think so too. But I’m even more grateful towards you, so thank you.”

Gun suddenly turned around, trying to contain his cool when he heard those words leave your mouth. While looking away, he then said, “Don’t misunderstand my intentions. I just don’t want to be seen out with a woman who doesn’t fit my tastes.”

And we’re back to square one again.

“Wow, you never fail to ruin a heartwarming moment. You should keep a track record of how many times you’ve done it so far.”

He sneered. “At least I don’t dress like a tourist.”

The two of you started bickering once again that the stylists who were still watching believed to have witnessed a “lover’s quarrel”.

. . .

After thanking the parlor staff for their excellent service, you bid your farewells to them as you and Gun walked back to the car.

When you finally got in the car with Gun, the thought of your precious bag came in mind.

“Old Reliable! Where did you go?!”

With such a quick reaction, you turned around on your seat then rummaged through the backseats of the car. As Gun started the car and was about to put it in reverse, your sudden outburst caused him to release the break. However, he caught himself by stomping on the break with force, preventing the car from almost crashing the parked car that was in front of you. The sudden halt of the car then made half of your body fall down below, into the backseat car mats.

“The hell are you doing?! Just sit down already!”

“Where’s my bag?!”

“What do you mean? I put that thing in the shopping bag with your clothes! They’re in the trunk!”

“Really…?”

You sighed in relief as you picked yourself up from the mats then slouched back down into your seat.

“Unbelievable. Over a bag…” Gun grumbled in an annoyed tone. He got a cigarette from his pocket then lit it for a quick smoke, just to relieve the unnecessary stress that you have brought upon him. Not in a million years, did he think that he would have to go through this. But if he had a choice to choose who to go out with between you or Goo, he would’ve chosen you. Goo was just on a whole other level of chaos that Gun thought that it’d be impossible for himself to get through it if there were to be a car accident. He won’t be able to stand him if he was stranded with him for days or else he’d have to resort in killing him before a stranger finds them. This whole “stranded” scenario occupied his mind while he drove the both of you to the dinner location that he chose for the night.

Gun brought you to a five-star restaurant called “Pierre Ganaire à Séoul,” located on top of the Lotte Hotel in Seoul. When you got there, the whole restaurant literally displays high-class service.

The whole entire restaurant had dimmed lights surrounding the entire French gold interior. Glass chandeliers were suspended from the ceiling above illuminating dim lighting, which was complimented by the dimmed lighting of candles on each table. The ambience in the room was definitely classy and the mood from its customers was definitely romantic, fitting for a high quality French restaurant.

While you stood there looking around in astonishment, Gun held his arm out for you to be properly escorted to the table that he reserved for the both of you.

“Shall we? While I’m being nice.”

Smirking, you politely took his arm in yours, wrapping yours around his as the two of you walked side by side towards your table. While you passed by some tables on your way over there, many of the people who were already seated turned their heads to glance at you and Gun. The impression that the both of you exerted together was very noticeable, as if you two were a power couple. A woman who you passed by gasped as she whispered to her friend saying, “Oh my god, did you see what she was wearing? She had on the newest collection of Louis Vuitton!” Her friend replied saying, “I know! And did you see her boyfriend too? He’s so hot!” Other people around you were even convinced that you two were celebrities.

The eyes that you felt on you and the gossip surrounding you made you uncomfortable, making you glance at your feet shyly, but Gun reassured you by leaning into you and holding you closer to him. Whispering, he said, “Don’t worry too much and just let them stare and gossip. They’re just wishing that they could be us right now.”

When you got to the table that he reserved, you couldn’t believe your eyes. The table was located near a big window that had a breath-taking view of Seoul, with its city lights twinkling below. There was a big bouquet of red carnations sitting on the side of the table, with a small lit candle placed beside it. And centered right on the table, was a gold placard displaying the words, “Reserved for Jong Gun Park & (Y/N) Sasaki.”

Gun went around you to pull your seat for you in such a gentlemanly manner, making you feel slightly touched by the treatment he was giving you.

“Oh Mr. Park, you’re such a gentleman.” You teased as you sat on the seat that he offered you.

When he took his seat right across from you, a waiter appeared right in front of you.

“Good evening sir, and madam. Welcome to Pierre Ganaire à “Séoul. My name is Hyeon-Jin and I’ll be your server for tonight. Right now, we are offering our best alcoholic beverages for the evening. Most of our wine have recently been imported from France, and they are now available. Here are your menus.”

When the young waiter handed out your menus, you flipped through it to see what they had to offer.

What in the world? I’ve never seen so many zeros before for just food!

Most of the beverages and food that you’ve looked through seemed to be very expensive, that even if you converted the prices into yen, you know that you couldn’t even afford to pay it with the money you currently have. Also, most of the food on the menu weren’t familiar to you since you’ve never had French cuisine before. Just looking at the names for each dish made your head ache when you tried pronouncing it to yourself while reading the menu. Gun noticed that you were struggling to choose a meal from the menu so he took the initiative to offer for you.

“We’ll have two glasses of your finest red wine. Make it Domaine Leroy Musigny Grand Cru. Also, we’d like to have today’s evening special from the Grand Menu.”

“Alright sir, I’ll get that for you right away.”

The both of you handed back the menus to Hyeon-Jin then watched him dash away towards the kitchen. You finally turned your attention to Gun and asked, “How?”

“How what?”

“How do you even know what to order from that? And how can you afford to pay for something so expensive, even for just food?”

“I have my ways.”

“Of course you do.” you said sarcastically, as you looked down at the incredible scenery from the window.

“Here.”

Without warning, he reached inside his suit pocket and took out a small narrow envelope then handed it to you. When you took it, you asked, “What’s this?”

Gun raised an eyebrow while crossing his arms. “Don’t tell me you forgot about our deal.”

“What? But isn’t it a little too early to give me the money now?”

“It won’t make a difference anyways if I had given it to you later so consider this as one of my gifts to you.”

Sighing, you unwillingly put the envelope into your Louis Vuitton bag.

“I swear, I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t. It’ll take you too long to pay me back.”

“No, no, I will. Mark my words, I’ll pay you back for everything. For the clothes, the shoes, the bag, the makeup treatment, the dinner. Everything.”

Gun chuckled arrogantly. “Are you sure? They’re all pretty pricey.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. It doesn’t feel right to pay you back. Just tell me how much did everything cost.”

“Alright…”

Gun leaned in closer to you from across the table then whispered the total cost of his expenses into your ear. Right when you heard the amount, you could already hear God calling to you from up above because of how screwed you were.

“On second thought, I’ll just return everything that I can and I’ll just pay the rest of the things. Haha…”

I can already feel myself fading into dust…

Gun thought in his head that your reaction was priceless. He enjoyed these little moments with you that became so amusing to him, that it grew on him. He never had anyone offer to pay him back before, for something that he had personally given. To him, this was a first. If it was any other woman that he’d offer gifts to, they’d gladly accept them without hesitation. But you? From the start, you said that you didn’t even need them. That was already a rare sight to behold as you became a rare jewel to Gun. A true diamond in the rough. Your simplicity may be overlooked from the start, but your growing strength and charms were getting to him and he doesn’t know what to do.

On the other hand, you seemed to have noticed how close the two of you had gotten. A month hasn’t passed, yet it felt like the two of you had gotten closer than before. Almost like old friends who decided to have dinner with one another. In the candlelight, you admired his handsome caricature, his wide shoulders, his muscular body seeping through his expensive clothing, and his rich fashion sense right in front of you. He was definitely out of your league, but you still felt drawn towards him regardless of how you two live in completely different worlds. However, you weren’t just physically attracted to this man. This mysterious guy sitting right in front of you became so captivating to you. You felt like you just wanted to unfold all the little secrets that he had lying underneath his perfect physique. You liked the way he was mostly direct with you, when he needed to. His face was serious all the time, but you always looked forward to seeing his rare facial expressions. The constant arguing about the most littlest things that you both always got into was pretty ridiculous, that it was almost laughable. But looking at it now, the memories of those times somehow brings a smile to your face. Just having him with you, or even seeing him right in front of you, made your chest ache. These factors made you feel lucky and glad that you chose to be with him instead of accepting Goo’s offer. You wouldn’t have met such a great companion if you hadn’t. A companion? For some reason you thought that word didn’t suit him. How do you even label him? A roommate? As a trainer? A teacher? A partner? A friend? A close friend? They all seemed to have confused you. What even is your relationship with this man? You were unsure of yourself but why does it feel like you want something more than that? Were you actually starting to… like him?

“Hey, remember you told me on the first day that I’m not supposed to tell anyone about what our plan is and what we do?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, what if someone sees us? I know that the people that you’ve mentioned before from those gangs may not know me, but they DEFINITELY know you.”

“Yes, and?”

“And… wouldn’t it be bad if they stop to question us when they see you?”

“Okay, well think of it this way. You and I can technically say anything to them about each other, as long as we don’t disclose any information to them that involves our plan. It’s like acting. And besides, those crews aren’t from Seoul so we have a low chance of ever coming into contact with them.”

“Ah I see. So… I can say that I’m your cousin or something?”

“Yes, you can.”

“But… I can’t date my cousin though…”

“What do you mean by tha-”

“Sorry for the wait, sir, madam!”

You jumped a little, startled by Hyeon-Jin’s abrupt appearance. From the candlelight, no one could see how much of a fluttering mess you were, embarrassed by the possibility that Hyeon-Jin could have listened in at the wrong time. On the contrary, Gun cleared his throat, trying to hide his enjoyment from your sudden reaction.

“Here are your beverages.”

He pulled out two wine glasses from the bar cart of beverages that he was strolling around with, then placed a wine glass each on your sides. Afterwards, he brought out a wine bottle, then opened the bottle with a pop by using a wine corkscrew opener.

While pouring each of you a drink, he explained the significance of the wine in his hand by saying, “Domaine Leroy Musigny Grand Cru is a red wine that has a refined taste. It is of the finest quality, as it is usually enjoyed during special occasions and is normally purchased by the rich and powerful. Are the two of you celebrating anything tonight?”

“Erm…”

“Yes, we are, actually.”

What?

Your eyes turned to Gun looking at him, all puzzled.

“Oh wow, no wonder you reserved such a popular spot sir! We always get a lot of requests to reserve this specific table, mostly for romantic dates or anniversaries. And it’s pretty difficult to get a hold of this spot since there have been many calls who ask us to save this seat for a particular event. Did you reserve this table because you wanted to celebrate your anniversary?”

Aw man, not another misunderstanding! How many times have we been experiencing this today?

“Hyeon-Jin, we’re no-”

“Yes, something like that.”

What is this guy talking about? This isn’t even an anniversary!

While you were listening in on their not-so-true conversation, you decided to take a sip out of your wine glass.

“Ah, I see. That’s very thoughtful of you to reserve a special spot for you and your wife, sir!”

All of a sudden, you started choking on the wine you were sipping on as Hyeon-Jin’s words caught you off guard.

Hyeon-Jin gasped, as he said, “Oh no, madam! Don’t drink your wine too quickly! Here, have some water…”

While suffering in your coughing frenzy, you were patting down your own chest while coughing before accepting the water that Hyeon-Jin poured for you in a new glass.

Gun caught your reaction as he was trying his hardest to hide his smugness, by turning his head away from the small chaotic scene happening in front of him. He was doing his best to focus on the scenery from the window with such a straight face, when clearly, he’s enjoying your reactions by the minute. Who knew that he’d be entertained at a place that’s meant for sophisticated tastes and refinery?

“What was up with that reaction?” he whispered to himself.

Gun managed to compose himself as he turned his attention back to Hyeong-Jin saying, “I have to apologize, my wife can be a little clumsy while drinking sometimes.”

He managed to get a reaction from you, since you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks again in huniliation.

This guy… How can he say it with such a straight face like that? So, if he wants to play around like that, then fine. I’ll play his game.

After taking a few sips of water, you turned to Gun and smiled at him, with a hidden malicious intent.

“Oh honey, you’re such a jokester!”

You slowly reached your hand out to him, as yours met his. Your hand caressed his hand teasingly and ever so slightly, which lit up something inside of Gun. That playful smirk on your face gave him a reason to continue this hidden game between the two of you.

As you stared into Gun’s eyes, you already knew that your pretend date with him has commenced. Now, you two get to show each other’s acting skills.

Time to become a snobby rich person.

Gun asked Hyeon-Jin, “Will the food be arriving soon? My wife wants to eat as soon as it gets here.”

You laughed like what a haughty rich person would while smacking Gun’s hand in a bashful manner. “Oh stop it honey, I’m not a pig! But I’ve always been dying to taste the food here!”

“Oh yes madam, the food here is exquisite! You’ll definitely like it, I guarantee it. The food will be ready in just a moment. I’ll be taking my leave for now and I’ll come back with your meals.”

Hyeon-Jin bowed respectfully before leaving you two alone to converse with each other, honestly this time.

As you quickly let go of his hand, Gun jeered in on you for your delivery.

“And that’s how you deliver a proper performance. I’m impressed, you really are good at acting. Did you take any acting lessons?”

He made you laugh, while waving your hand dismissively. “Oh please, you’re such a jackass! I should be the one to ask you that. Luckily, I caught on to your scheme. But now I get what you were talking about. Now, let’s see how the exceptional Gun Park lasts before he burns out in his acting skills.”

He chuckled at your cute taunts before saying, “You’re on.”

Eventually, Hyeon-Jin came with the food in his hands. As he propped the two plates above his shoulders with both of his talented hands, he carefully placed both of your meals in front of you and Gun with elegance then gestures for you to try the food.

“There you are, sir, madam. I hope you’ll enjoy the food!”

“Don’t mind if I do!” You eagerly grabbed your silverware knife and fork before digging into your meal.

Each of you had the foie gras meal. The duck livers that had been sacrificed for your meals cooked to the point of perfection. Making the meat tender, to the point of it falling apart easily with just a poke from a fork, and for it to leave a savory taste as it melts in your mouth. What a delicacy. The foie gras had a special mushroom sauce, which consisted of vinaigrette dressing and finely sliced mushrooms. Its taste had a hint of sweet and sour, but was balanced marvelously as it complimented the texture of the duck liver.

As you cut a piece of the foie gras, you hooked onto it with your fork then slowly popped it into your mouth. As the foie gras hit your taste buds, you felt yourself melting along with it, in pure bliss. You sighed happily, as you said, “Oh my, this dish is so delectable! I can almost feel it melting on my tongue! It was so worth coming here! Right, honey?”

Gun patted his mouth with a cloth napkin after he tried the food as well. “Yes. Give our compliments to the chef for us, Hyeon-Jin.”

Hyeon-Jin sighed in relief, as he saw that the two of you had enjoyed the food then nodded happily. “I will gladly do that for you, sir! Madam!”

While you were happily eating your food, you noticed Gun leaning in closer to you all of a sudden.

“Babe, you got a little something on your face.”

Your eyes looked at him in pure confusion. “Huh? Where?”

And… “Babe”?

Gun grabbed your chin lightly as he slowly brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, all the way up to the right corner of your mouth. As he sat back down, he looked into your eyes while licking the tip of his thumb seductively, which had some sauce from the foie gras, that was previously smeared on your mouth.

When you watched him lick the sauce from his thumb, you sat there completely frozen. Eyes widened. Cheeks flushed. Heart racing. Thoughts were going a hundred miles an hour in your head, wondering if what you just witnessed in front of you was real.

What was that just now?! Did he so happened to just do that naturally, or did he do that on purpose? Wow, I can’t believe this. This man’s ego is truly something. How outrageous! And he managed to get me flustered like this too? How could I like someone so ballsy, such as him?! You’ve got to be kidding me right now. He thinks that he can top all of the other k-drama actors like that, huh? Not even Lee Min Ho can pull that stunt, but he can? Is he an expert at doing that?! No, he can’t be. Whew, unbelievable! Why do I feel hot right now and why is my heart pumping like I’m about to have a heart attack?! This isn’t helping!!!

“Uh… madam, is everything okay?”

“Huh?”

You turned your head towards Hyeon-Jin’s voice, who was still standing there next to your table.

With a quick “Ahem!” from your throat, you nodded at Hyeon-Jin while smiling. “Yes, thank you for your concern Hyeon-Jin. You should go ahead and tend to the other customers right now. We’ll be fine.”

“Oh alright madam, if you say so. Excuse me!”

As a result, he left you two alone in a new type of tension that you’ve never dealt with before.

“Hey. What the hell was that? Some sort of fan service?”

“Fan service? I didn’t know my wife wanted other things. How greedy.”

“What the-” your words were cut off, as you facepalmed yourself while groaning in frustration.

Now the tables have turned. It wasn’t you who has the upper hand now but instead, it was him. And you know damn well that he’s enjoying it.

“What’s wrong babe? You haven’t finished your food yet. If you wanted me to feed you, then you should have been more honest with me.”

Gun cut up a piece of his food then held it out in front of you for you to feed on in shame. At this point, he was clearly mocking you from the last comment you had about his acting skills. Just seeing your flustered expression was already giving him such a huge ego boost, that you had to come up with a way to turn the tide around.

When you raised your head up from your palm, you gave him a cold smirk.

“Oh, you’re good, no doubt about it. But don’t think that this is over yet. You haven’t seen what I’ve got up my sleeve…”

I must be crazy to try and pull this off, but if this is a war to see who breaks first, then I must do everything within my power to win. Even if that includes using my womanly charms! He is a man after all, so he might break with this little stunt. (God, please forgive me for this. I swear, this will only happen once.)

As you leaned in towards him, he thought that you finally accepted your food of shame, until you swiftly smacked the fork with the liver right out of his hand as it landed on the floor a few feet away from him. He looked at you with true confusion, wondering why the hell did you do that.

“Oh, sorry honey. Let me go get that for you.”

Gun’s eyes watched you intently as you got out of your seat then bent over in front of him to grab the fork with the liver still stuck to it, from the ground. His view was suddenly focused on your curvy ass, in which his eyes had trailed down your pencil skirt as it crept a bit up your thighs, giving him a bit of a sneak peek of what was underneath from the slit. As you stood back up again, you flipped your voluminous hair back while holding onto the fork in your hand. When you returned to your seat, you crossed your legs while holding out the fork with the piece of liver, out to him.

“This was yours right, my love? Say ah~”

Hehe, checkmate.

Damn. You’ve never seen such a speechless Gun in your life, and that goes to show that you’ve won this round. If you were to somehow go underneath the table right now, you’d definitely see how rock hard he had gotten from watching you bend over in front of him like that. Gun never knew that you had it in you to do such a thing in the first place, which made him form a mischievous smirk on his face while looking straight into your eyes with dangerous malice. The last words that he had for you during that dinner was, “You better watch your back.”

. . .

After Gun had paid for the food, your walk outside the streets of Seoul towards the car was very silent. As you followed him from behind, you stared at his tall figure while walking. Not a word was said ever since the dinner, and it was starting to worry you. You were carrying a fancy take-out bag that held your complimentary desserts in it, since Gun asked Hyeon-Jin to put it to-go right away.

Is he mad at me? Geez, I must’ve taken it too far. Or is he upset with what I did? Honestly, who wouldn’t. He must think that I’m a shameless woman now. Ugh, I’m so embarrassed. I didn’t think I’d be able to do such a thing in my life. I’ve only seen those types of scenes from badass action movies, where the female lead asserts her dominance. But, I’ve never seen him so quiet before. I hope I didn’t upset him or made him mad in any way.

Suddenly, you heard a voice from afar that ruined your train of thought.

“Hey, is that Gun and (Y/N)?!”

Who…?

Right away, you turned around to see Goo waving at you with a bloodied sword in his hand. However, Goo wasn’t alone. This time, there was a big guy with him who had a serious look on his face. Him and Goo were both dressed in suit and ties, but their outfits were stained with some blood splatters on them.

Is that blood…? What have they been doing all night?

You waved back at him, while walking towards him. Goo whistled as he saw a better view of you from up close.

“Woah, that is you! I almost didn’t recognize you until I saw that you were walking with Gun from that fancy hotel over there. What got you so dolled up, anyways? Did you two…?” Goo’s mouth curved to an impish smirk.

You heard the guy next to him let out a short gasp, as he said to himself while gritting his teeth and clenching his fists in frustration, “I-if that was me and Z-Zoe… then I would’ve been the happiest man in the world right about now! Damn that little Pikachu bastard, stealing my girl!!!”

Goo looked at the guy in irritation saying, “Hey, Logan. How many times did I have to tell you to get over that girl, and just continue to get stronger! At least make me proud here! Tsk.”

Goo turned his attention back to you. “So… did you and Gun hit it off…?”

“Huh? No, no, you got it all wrong! We were just-”

The words wouldn’t come out from your mouth as you paused. You couldn’t tell him that you two were there because you were celebrating your hard work of training. You believed that he isn’t allowed to know of what goes on between you and Gun. Plus, you couldn’t tell him that you two just came out of dinner as a pretend couple either, which would be an even worse scenario to explain.

“Hmmm…?” Goo and his friend were staring at you, waiting for a reply until…

“Didn’t I tell you to fuck off?”

As you turned around towards the sound of Gun’s voice, you saw him walk towards you three. He stood there, lighting a cigarette right in front of the three of you as he blew out smoke that exhaled out of his lungs.

Goo grinned wildly at the sight of seeing Gun again, to tease him once more.

“Gun, we were just talking about you! So what were the two of you doing at a hotel together? Did you two have ‘fun’ ?”

Gun took another puff from his cigarette before saying, “You can think whatever the hell you want, nosy prick. Even if I did explain, it wouldn’t change the fact that you’d still think the way you wanted about the situation.”

“Awww, no fair! I wanted to hear all the juicy deets from you.” Goo fake pouted, while Gun scowled back at him in annoyance.

You sighed in relief at how Gun handled Goo’s questions.

I wouldn’t know how to handle Goo if it weren’t for Gun being here. Thank god.

Unexpectedly, you felt a sudden urge to pee. You thought that it must’ve been the wine since you heard that alcohol does make people pee.

As you turned around to go back towards the hotel to use the restroom, you called out to Gun first before heading back the direction where you just came from.

“Gun, I need to go back to use the restroom real quick! I’ll be right back!”

Gun nodded, but before he let you go, he told you to hand over the bag full of desserts in it. You obliged, as you quickly handed it to him, for him to hold it in your place.

From far away, he made sure that you made it into the building safely by watching you. The sway of your hips moving while walking in those heels and those long legs of yours mesmerized him to the point that Goo definitely caught him checking you out from behind.

“Gun, you naughty boy! I caught you staring at (Y/N)‘s ass just now!”

“Tch. Can you shut the fuck already? You always say the most craziest shit out loud, that it makes me want to beat you senseless just for you to actually shut up.”

Out of nowhere, Logan towered in front of Gun, as if he were to protect his own master from him. Goo suddenly patted him on the back saying, “Hey, hey, it’s alright Logan. Gun here wouldn’t do that right now. He’s waiting for (Y/N) after all and like she said, she’ll come back real quick.”

Logan grunted as he returned back to his original position. Gun continued to let out his aggravation through that single cigarette in his hand.

“You know Gun, you should just make her yours already. Because if you don’t do it soon, she might be out of reach by the time you decide on pursuing her. You’ll soon regret it, and then you’ll end up all alone, without anyone being there for you.”

“You know, for a bastard like you, you really ARE a nosy prick. Why the hell do you keep pushing me to go after her?”

“Because you’ll hit rock bottom earlier than when you’re supposed to. Once you hit rock bottom, it should be by me and not by her. Remember, we’re rivals and we’ve got our own shit to deal with. So now, who’s the ACTUAL bastard here?” Goo said in a smug tone.

Logan let out a quiet, “Daaamn…” under his breath as Gun let out his last puff of smoke from his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and smashing it underneath his shoe. Eventually, you came out of the hotel after your long pee break and once you returned, you felt that you missed something important. You couldn’t help but think that something went down while you were away on the toilet, since you felt the serious tension among them. As Gun started to walk back towards the car continuing onwards in silence, you said your goodbyes to Goo and that other kid whose name that you caught was Logan.

Goo yelled out during his goodbyes, saying, “Until we meet again, (Y/N)! And next time will surely be much more interesting!”

You didn’t quite understood what he meant by that last part, but you were just exhausted at that point from everything that has happened.

When you finally got in the car, Gun finally pulled the car in reverse then started to drive without saying a word once again.

The silence was deafening, that even you could tell that it was pretty awkward to just sit there without saying anything. You couldn’t take it anymore with the silent treatment, as you suddenly decided to turn on the radio for some music.

However, when you turned on the radio, Doja Cat’s song called Streets was introduced in the radio as it just started playing right from the beginning. And as you listened to the song, it only just made the tension between you two to worsen. Your heart began to race and your hands began to sweat uneasily as your hands held onto your seatbelt. Just listening to the lyrics didn’t help the situation at all. From the side of your eye, you glanced at Gun to find him just concentrating on the road without saying anything. Weirdly, he didn’t seem too bothered by it. Eventually, you decided to finally turn off the radio right after the song finished playing and just sit there in uncomfortable silence throughout the way home.

. . .

Finally, you made it home. As Gun parked the Rolls Royce right in front of the house, the both of you got out of the car.

While you got the rest of your stuff from the trunk of his car, he eventually locked it with an advanced-looking car key, which resembles a remote.

It felt like an eternity just to get inside, due to the painful and awkward silence. While walking up the steps and following him from behind, you decided to just apologize to him right there and now.

God, I can’t take this anymore. I’ll just apologize to him and I hope he’ll forgive me and he’ll be alright afterwards.

When Gun finally stood in front of the door, he was in the process of inputting the passcode to the door. At once, you blurted out your apology to him.

“Gun, I’m sorry for what I did! I know that it was wrong to act so indecent while I was out with you. I got carried away, and was blinded by my need to win that little ‘game’ of ours. I’m sorry for being so immature. I’m truly ashamed of my actions, and […]”

When Gun managed to unlock the door, you followed him inside while still apologizing to him. You were going on and on about how sorry you were, and how shameful you acted during the dinner. During that time, you were setting down the bag of desserts on a table near the staircase, including your bag of old clothes for a second. You were getting hand cramps just holding onto the bags.

“[…] you know, I was just playing around, right? But it’s ok, you can call me shameful if you want to! You could even call me disgusting, and impudent, for how I was acting. I deserved it anyway, so I’m so-”

“Didn’t I tell you to watch your back?”

“Huh?”

You turned around to see Gun standing right in front of you, with his glasses already off of his face. However, you could’ve sworn that he was just near the door. He was closing in on you, as he made you back up onto the wall, right in front of the staircase. He blocked both of your sides by planting his hands onto the wall, trapping you while your back was now against the wall. His eyes was looking down onto yours, while his face was leaning in closer to you. While doing so, you could smell the scent of cigarettes from his warm breath.

“W-wait… Gun, what are you-”

“Shut up.”

Gun suddenly cupped your face and tilted your head upwards before he forcefully pressed his lips onto yours. His body was pressed against yours as you felt his pelvis grind against you. While he was leaning in closer to you more and more, you realized that this was technically your first kiss with a man. And you couldn’t imagine that the man who stole your first kiss, was no other than Gun Park.

The kiss that you two were sharing was tender for only a second, until he started to change the pace of the kiss into a more aggressive make-out session. The feeling of his lips became harsher, as his tongue entered your mouth while it played with yours, giving you the most heated French-kiss of your life. His tongue tasted of nicotine, while yours tasted like rich wine. His touch got rougher, as he started feeling up every inch of your body. You felt his right hand pull onto your top due to how it was previously tucked in, before it crept up from underneath your blouse, all the way to your soft breasts. His hand then started playing with your breasts, fondling one in his hand then grazed your nipple in circular motions with his thumb, making it peak. His left hand, however, sneaked its way up your pencil skirt, in between your legs. He then shoved his hand into your panties, feeling how wet you’ve gotten from his touch just by rubbing his fingers onto the entrance of your heat.

Embarrassed, both of your hands smacked his chest, desperately trying to push him away from you as much as possible. “Gun, stop- Ahh~”

What is this feeling? Why does it feel… good? Am I actually enjoying this? Have I gone insane?!

Your hands tried pushing him away but you felt your strength getting weaker, as this new feeling in your body had taken over, making your mind go blank. Weird noises began to emit from your mouth uncontrollably. While Gun was simultaneously pleasing you in multiple ways, his eyes adjusted to your face, seeing your pleasured reactions from the way he was touching you.

His lips pulled away from yours while still teasing your sensitive parts. “‘Stop’? That’s very hypocritical of you to say that. See? You’re already wet down here. And plus, didn’t you want this to happen? You were clearly begging for your ‘husband’ to do such things to you back at that restaurant. Who knew that my ‘wife’ would be so naughty…”

For some reason, your body was reacting on its own to his touch, that you can no longer control yourself. You felt your body heating up and your core aching with need. When his mouth pressed against yours for another time, his digits underneath your underwear started to pierce through your vaginal lips, barely pumping your insides. Just by feeling the inside of your heat, Gun can tell that you’re a virgin just from how tight you felt as his digits was already enveloped by your walls, barely entering into your depths. With that, he believed that he should be careful. Yet, his patience is already waning thin.

A new look in his eyes met yours. A look of deep insatiable lust. The words, “I think I’m going insane. I don’t think I can control myself any longer.” escaped through his gritted teeth as he didn’t hesitate to crash his lips onto yours once more.

Urgently, he grabbed onto every piece of clothing you had on just to tear them right off of you. Including, your new top and skirt with your bra and underwear.

What the hell, what’s gotten into him all of a sudden?!

You pulled your lips away in surprise, as you scolded him in alarm, “Hey, those were expensive AND brand new! Why did you have to do that?!”

“Tch. They’re just clothes! I’ll get you better ones later…”

“But-”

Gun silenced you with his mouth, as he suddenly hoisted your naked body up in his arms. His hands glided against your soft legs, forcing you to wrap them around his waist as he wrapped one of his strong arms around your waist. He started making his way up the stairs with your naked body pressed against his clothed self. His right hand was on the railing for guidance, and your arms were wrapped around his neck for support.

The two of you still had your lips on each other, even while Gun was carrying you towards his room. You found it impressive that he could multi-task like that. Soon, your need for him became desperate as you were starting to match his energy with yours, by running your fingers from the nape of his neck to his hair while you were sucking on his tongue. Gun didn’t like it when his hair was messed up by someone, especially during a fight. However, when it comes to you, he’ll make an exception. When the both of you got to the top of the stairs, both of his hands grabbed onto your cute ass tightly, as he rushed you straight to his room.

When he opened the door, he immediately slammed it right behind him then pushed you onto the bed, making you land on your back with a soft thud on the mattress.

You haven’t realized yet that this was actually the first time that you’ve ever been to his room, but that doesn’t matter to you right now. What matters is that he wants you and you want him in return. You stared up at his eyes full of longing. In exchange, he looked down at your eyes with incredible desire. Gun didn’t think that in any point in time, he’d ever get you on his bed like this. Short flashbacks of those times that he’d been with you started to appear in his head, reminiscing the times of when you smiled at him, when you’ve fiercely fought with him during training, and when you would constantly annoy him from time to time. But that strength of yours, was what captivated him and had him obsessed with you. It was like love at first sight. Even Goo’s words from tonight had been annoying him nonstop ever since he told Gun to make his move on you. But now, at this very moment, he got you in his grasp and he finally decided to act upon how he thought of you. Even when he always got the impression from you that you only saw him for the strict jerk that he was, it was time to show you how he felt about you. On the other hand, you’ve changed your views on him. You admitted that you thought that he was an ass at first, but when you got to know him, you couldn’t help but want to stay by his side. For the first time, you admitted to yourself that you wanted to be with someone, other than your own mother. This isn’t just lustful thinking or a phase that appeared at the moment. These are actual feelings that you’ve just come to realize now and you wouldn’t mind if the man standing in front of you, would touch you. It was time for you to show him what you really meant to him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this with you.” He said, as he confessed to you unexpectedly. At that moment, you could tell that he wanted you so badly that nothing is going to stop him now.

Silently, you watched him take off every piece of clothing that he had on his entire body and just by observing, he immediately got you flustered. Quickly, he started to unbuckle his belt, removing his pants and throwing them across the room. His suit came right off, then his white long-sleeved shirt as he unbuttoned it without even stopping to fumble through any of the buttons with such skill, revealing his muscular body and his solid abs which made you blush a tint of pink. You even caught his toned and tattooed arms flex as he threw his shirt across the room. If you were already blushing, then you probably won’t be prepared for what’s about to come next. Lastly, it was the moment you’ve been anticipating for. Your legs were quivering in anxiousness as you felt your core beating in between your legs, knowing that he’ll join with you soon. As he removed his black Louis Vuitton briefs, you saw his erected member sprung out from underneath them. You gasped, since you’ve never seen a guy’s penis so up close in your life. Sure, you’ve seen those stick-figure-like penis drawings on the desks at school sometimes, or those naked statues from Renaissance artwork, but this? This was much more detailed. This was the REAL DEAL. You couldn’t help but stare at his huge veiny member. His girth and his length somewhat intimidated you, which made you wonder how he’d fit inside of you.

Once all of his clothes ended up across the room, he immediately towered on top of you on the bed, trapping you in between his strong muscular arms once again. Underneath Gun, was your beautiful naked self. He gets to see every exposed feature on your body. Every scar, every mark, and every spot that he’ll stimulate just to make you go crazy.

His eyes pierced yours directly with a hint of desire in them as he said, “Are you ready, (Y/N)? I’ll make you even more worthy to become my woman than any other woman could. I’ll make sure that you’ll become mine.”

At this point, you couldn’t take it anymore either. In your head, you finally became obsessed with this man that you finally surrendered to his touch.

As you wrapped your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer to you saying, “Then, show me how I can be worthy of you.” initiating the start to a neverending night of passion.

[End of Ch. IV]

#lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism fanfic #lookism x reader #lookism gun #lookism jonggun #lookismaddict #park jonggun #jonggun x reader #lookism smut #daniel park #jake kim #eli jang #samuel seo #johan seong #gun park #webtoon #manhua #manhwua #manhwa #fanfic #gun x reader

[cottonraincoat]

making of monday: the stressed student's guide to binge writing a one-shot

(not that I'm a very good writer, but I loved seeing these on the dash, and decided to join. all this is only a little tongue-in-cheek.)

step one: try to work on an irl assignment*

(* not fandom related at all. preferably an intellectually challenging task that is also time-sensitive and reasonably important.)

There's nothing like the looming dread of deadline that stimulates the mind! Combine the perfectionist's fear of beginning, the procrastinator's tendency to distraction, and the pressure on the brain to produce something— for the most bizarre results. Namely, mildly unhinged fic ideas. Just sit down (curl up into a ball in the corner of the room), relax (stress), and wait for inspiration to come!

step two: "just, uh, just to note this down for later"

You never know when the idea would come, but it does. Now, you've got a seed, that your brain has instantly latched onto. It's growing and blooming and taking over every thought. "damn it," you think, "this is a fun idea. I can't write it before I finish the assignment though!" But the idea doesn't let you go, it's like a haunting, which is in all honesty very rude. Well, what can you do.

You open a doc.

Within half an hour, you realize that you should have known better than believing the idea (tm) would leave you alone.

step three: give in. you're writing the fic instead.

Congratulations! Your brain has once again chosen the path of least resistance instead of what you should be doing. But there's no time for guilt when you have to finish the fic (and finish the assignment after that). So you're writing the fic like your life depends on it, and the words come surprisingly easy because given the baseline stress, you aren't overthinking every single word or ridiculously lines of narrative. It's been hours, your mind's afloat, and you (unfortunately) forget approximately every duty to your body. But it's fun and you swear you've never written like this in your life.

From time to time you swap back to the page where your assignment stares helplessly back at you. You blink. You drop it back under the metaphorical rock.

step four: "fuck, the deadline is in [x] hours. I can't do this anymore"

By now, the first draft is probably sitting there in a messy, wonderful glop. And depending on the circumstance, it's either [start editing now, future rain can deal with this shit] or [despite all evidence to the contrary I actually do not want to fail this degree. time to pull myself by the hair into doing the Thing]. Either way, you've maybe slept for 6 of the last 40 hours, and you're contemplating the strange quality of your vision and why you can hear the inside of a conch at the back of your head, etc etc.

step five: sleep, and spare a moment to pause and wonder what the fuck is your life

when the assignment is done, it's like someone's poked a hole in your sand balloon and your entire being sags. it's a nice feeling, kind of. the fic stops you from spending too much time wondering why the hell are you doing the degree at all.

time to turn the glop into coherence! this is the most time consuming part, and could take up to days after the initial burst of [stuff].

step six: edit until your eyeballs fall out

what it says ^

step seven: when you finally cannot stand another minute of re-reading and editing, throw it onto ao3, and hopefully never think about the fic ever again.

that's a lie. you'll be checking the ao3 stats approximately every two hours for the next two days at least.

fics that actually happened like this:

Infinite Joy (the one that started it all)

Designation (in which I forgot Plo Koon had a mask)

on not sleeping with your students

(the first chapter of) the prophecies spoke of you and I

family line

#making of monday #shitposting

[sepublic]

         I can’t believe it’s actually ending.

         Three years the show has been airing. But it’s technically been a part of my life for five. I remember when The Owl House was first announced back in February 2018, and something about that magical poster and synopsis caught my eye. Something told me to look forward to this one, that it’d be special… And I had no idea.

         I remember checking Dana’s accounts studiously, impatient for more TOH content ever since that poster. Eventually I stopped, giving up… But then finally, that original teaser trailer, fully instrumental as it gave us clips from what we’d later discover were just the first four episodes! I remember my speculation about Luz going to this world, even had a dream where she was revealed to be the Anti-Christ (not that this was a bad thing in context), that sort of thing. I got hyped to hear Luz’s VA be announced, and went out of my way to find clips of Sarah Nicole-Robles’ voice acting just so I could get an idea of what was to come.

         And the show started off so humbly, so regularly, I didn’t think it’d become so serious! The fact that each episode was a fully twenty-two minutes did bode well for me, but damn. Hearing characters’ voices for the first time. Fully immersing myself.

         And this is it! All speculation will come to a close here, with the final episode. This is the last time we’ll get to watch a new episode, unless that young Raeda spin-off happens, but I’m not getting my hopes up because it’s Disney. These evening hours spent in anxious anticipation for the episode to drop, this is the last time it’ll happen for all of us. The last time I’ll obsessively check Discord to talk about the newest episode, scroll through the Recent tag to see fresh reactions.

         I want to savor it, but there’s also pressure to do this perfectly, as a way to go off. I can’t help perfectly capture how I feel nor a proper retrospective. But in the end, I still want to do it. A part of me doesn’t want it to end, wants it go on forever in infinite hiatus. But another part of me just wants to get the pain and grief over with. My heart is beating hard and it’s been building up in pace since I woke up today.

         I don’t know what to expect, but I gotta say I’ve loved watching it with you guys. Stuff as early as over-analyzing on the snake motifs which eventually DID pay off in String Bean, after that theory that Luz’s palisman would be a snake due to how the title card was designed! The way I compared the Boiling Isles to Mata Nui from Bionicle, even joked about King being the Titan. I remember being there in the early days when there was barely a fandom but still holding out, and boy have we grown since then!

         I was asked for permission to use my posts as credit when speculating on King being THE Titan, though it turns out he was his son. I remember speculating on the Owl mural inside of the Owl House, I’ve made so many friends through TOH. I remember when Adventures in the Elements leaked early and it was a dream episode, ideal and perfect!

         Speculating that there was more to Amity than meets the eye, and being right in the overanalysis! The vindication! Joking about her being a lesbian, seeing a Grom poster but not actually thinking we’d get a Grom episode. And then we did. Thinking we were getting our hopes up with Amity being a lesbian with a crush on Luz, and then the explosion of emotion as our hearts beat, when the note unfurled.

         I remember playing that godforsaken Witch’s Apprentice app just for more content, and then seeing Rebecca Rose analyze the artifacts, with me realizing they provided hints to upcoming episodes! Man, seeing Rebecca go from an early fan who helped start it off, someone I was glad to see provide presence at the beginning, all the way to a full-on crew member! Wonderful.

         Belos was known as Bellows due to a typo in the captions. Speculating on Lilith and Kikimora, who cursed Eda. Being blindsided by the climax of Season 1, and this mysterious Owl-masked figure besides Belos, because I had no clue who this was and who he’d turn out to be, no idea! No idea he and Willow would be a thing, that Belos had a brother he killed and repeatedly cloned in an attempt to get him back!

         This show has broken my heart, revived me, brought life, and so forth. Season 1 was truly wild, and then the year-long hiatus for Season 2, the Reddit AMA and stream… Getting Alador and Odalia’s names early, it was lovely! The S2 intro sneak peek, in progress. Waking up to get an entire trailer! Being caught off-guard with how much the animation improved, even as I had to stay quiet for like two weeks, because the first two episodes of S2 premiered early for special guests!

         Speculation on Philip Wittebane and Belos, the brothers. Seeing Luz figure out glyph combos. Hunter and Flapjack, King and Eda’s stories, as the designs updated. New palismen. The heartbreak of the show being shortened, the anger and rage. The vindication on Creepy Luz just being a scared kid who wants love and means well.

         And then the next hiatus… Season 2B, the end of a proper season as everything came to another climax. We got the truth on Belos, the story coming to a close in anticipation of the Day of Unity. The Season 3 leaks, especially with the titles, and the way they came together to tell us, Thanks For Watching. Like it wasn’t ideal but the audience worked with it, the crew made it work, and the fans stuck through regardless. The crew put themselves out there in this work and we reciprocated and understood.

         Just as Luz wanted and needed so badly. We had S3 and the first look at a special, depressed Luz. The sneak peek. The revelation on just how alike Luz and Camila are. And then the hype towards For the Future… When the Collector really got to shine and show us a new side that completed their character. And finally, after all of the anticipation…

         The episode finished production. The finale is done, just for us to watch. The crew is celebrating, saying their final goodbyes. And my heart and gut are feeling sick, aching with grief. I don’t want it to end, but it’s making me so nervous I need it to, just for the relief and release. And the finale inches ever-closer, the SERIES finale. The end of the end.

         Here’s to The Owl House, you guys. Thanks for everything, thanks for reading my posts, interacting with them, adding onto them; Responding when I responded to your posts! It truly was a magical time and still is for me. I feel like I genuinely learned and discovered a lot about myself through this show and my interactions with fellow fans, and I toast to our final get-together in watching an episode!

        Here’s to Watching and Dreaming! I know that’s what I’ll keep doing once the show ends…! And thank you @danaterrace, for coming up with this wonderful show and continuing to give it to us, despite everything.

#the owl house #ramblings

[sensei-venus]

“Stomach Ache” (2/2)

(Unedited) (Support Me Links🌺) (Poly! Mom!Sam/Mom!Reader/Dad!Miguel, Domestic Life, Mention of Sickness, Slight Mention of Vomit) ( Wouldn't feel right if I didn't tag @gemini-sensei 🫣)

Reader's mind was completely blank for the rest of the day.

She occasionally checked her phone for any new texts from Miguel. Throwing her phone back into her bag every time. She didn't want to keep looking at it because it made her nervous.

Her errands were at the back of her mind the whole time she was driving around town. She picked up Sam’s dry cleaning, dropped off some karate fliers at the printers for Miguel. She got the car washed, picked up some flowers for the house.

She even went by the school that was close to their home to see about getting the paperwork information for their daughter. Next year she would be eligible for kindergarten. She walked in and talked to one of the counselors for a bit before being handed the stack of paper work. She happily walked out with all of the new information in her brain about the new school year.

Then as she was putting the paper work away in the glove compartment.

She promptly turned around outside the car, and puked straight on the asphalt of the schools parking lot.

She dry-heaved for about five minutes before grabbing some napkins from the glove compartment and whipping at her mouth. She took a water bottle out of her cup holder and cleaned her mouth out. Tears pricked her eyes as she cleaned herself up and got into her car and drove out of the school's parking lot.

The whole time she was driving she couldn't help but think about the stupid app on her phone.

The stupid period app she had that remained her that she was apparently two weeks late. She didn't even notice with how busy she was. Looking over the app she knew it was right. She was a week and five days late.

She wanted to chalk it up as stress-related. That had to be why she was late, not having your period when you are stressed out is pretty normal right? Yeah that's a normal thing. It happens all the time. It wasn't healthy but still, it was a significant.

Sitting outside the pharmacy in her car with a plastic bag full of pregnancy tests was what made it all real. Her head was clear as she realized that this whole thing was real. That she could be very much pregnant. Right now she could be carrying her second baby.

She couldn't tell if the tears falling down her cheeks were happy or scared ones. Her hands gripped at the steering wheel so right. Her eyes squeezed shut. Small silent sobs threaten to leave her quivering lips. She wasn't exactly scared of being pregnant, she was worried about her partners. They weren't actively trying for another baby right now, not planning it out like they did with their daughter.

They planned to have their first child after they got out of college, after Sam finished her Business program and Miguel finished doing his physical therapy stuff. They planned everything out and it worked like a charm. The prep and the overall pregnancy were planned out great. After they had their daughter it was all over, that was the last time they talked about real babies.

Of course Sam and Miguel’s breeding kink was still there. But it was about fake babies, at least to her it was. She knew it was never as real as it was before when they were all on the same page trying to actually get pregnant.

In the beginning of their relationship, they all talked about wanting a family. A big family. Both Sam and Miguel made it clear that wanted multiple children, and it didn't matter which woman carried them. Reader was thrilled with the idea and agreed to wanting to have multiple kids.

What if this wasn't the right time?

Reader sniffles as she starts he car and drives off from the pharmacy. The whole ride home she keeps glancing at the white bag in the other seat.

When she got back home she parked and grabbed all of her stuff from the car. She clenched the plastic bag as she headed inside. Her hands shook as she sat her stuff down and went straight to the bathroom.

She closed the door to her bathroom and dumped the whole bag of tests onto the sink countertop. They clattered into the sink. She bought four, all different brands. She wanted to make sure all of them had real results.

She quickly pulled her pants and underwear down and sat on the toilet.

She ripped open every box and took out every test. She nervously peed onto every plastic stick and sat the sticks down on their respective box. After she was done she flushed and washed her hands. Her legs felt weak so she sat on the bathroom floor, drawing her knees up to her chest as she looked at the floor.

She felt stupid for acting like this but she was so nervous.

She wanted it to be positive, but also she wished she had talked to her partners first. About having another baby.

She didn't know how long she sits on the cold bathroom floor. One of the tests beeped signaling it was done and its results were ready. She slowly sat up and stood by the sink. She chewed on her lip as she picked up one of the tests. She was hesitant but flipped it over.

Positive.

Second one, positive.

Third one, positive.

Fourth one, positive.

Every single test was positive, she was pregnant.

She worked in a haze as she collected all of the tests. She shoves them all in one of the boxes and hides them in the back of the sink bottom cabinet along with all of the other now empty boxes.

She walked into her room and gently sat down on her bed. It dipped under her but she paid to no mind. She stays like that for about an hour before laying down on the bed, throwing the covers over herself.

She ran a hand over her belly. It was still soft to the touch, her rolls still there. She was nowhere near close to showing just yet but it still made her flutter inside.

She was really pregnant, she was going to have another baby.

A soft smile spread over her face as her eyes fluttered close. She fell asleep thinking about the new baby.

She grunted as something gently shakes her awake. Her eyes flutter open as she takes in the bright light of the room.

“Sorry to wake you but it's getting late out, we didn't want to to miss dinner. Everyones home now, we missed you.” it was Miguel who shook her awake and Sam sat beside him on the bed. Both of them looked down at her as she started to sit up.

“Are you feeling any better?” Sam asked with concern.

“I'm fine, well at least as fine as I will be for a while that is...” Reader didn't know what to say to them. Mind still blocked with the new information she learned about a few hours ago. She had no idea what to tell them. Sam looked at Miguel with a hard gaze before back at her.

“If there is something wrong you need to tell us, because of you don't we can't help you feel better. If your still or feeling well we can get you a doctor's appointment.”

Reader chewed on her lip before silently getting up and walking into their connected bathroom. She signed as she bent down and opens the cabinet under the sink. Reaching out she grabbed the full box of used pregnancy tests. For a split second, she looked down at them with a frown. She spun around and headed back into the bedroom where her lovers were still sitting in the bed. Both still visible with worry on their faces.

“Open your hands.”

Both of them did that with little question. They both put their open hands out towards her. She dumped the box between both of their hands letting the tests fall out into their open palms. Sam’s eyes where wide as soon as she saw them fall. Miguel took a minute to figure it out. Both of them took two tests and looked them over.

Reader felt her eyes start to bubble with tears again.

“These are positive…”

“All of mine are too!”

Sam was off the bed in a minute and hugging her. She squeals as she hugs her wife with a huge smile. Miguel is up next as he gently takes her other side, rubbing a hand over both her back and puggy belly. He’s kissing her cheek that now has tears rubbing down them. He fingers at her round cheeks trying to clean them.

“Those aren’t happy tears. Why are you so upset. I thought you said you where ok with having another baby.”

“I am but we never actually talked about having any more after our girl. I didn’t think either of you- I didn’t know if it was the right time to have another one. We didn’t plan this-“

Sam hugged her right saying “Honey it doesn’t matter if we didn’t plan this. We already know we wanted to have another baby at some point. We are hundred percent happy and ok with having this baby- hell any more baby’s in the future with you.”

“We planned our first because we where just getting started on our family, we though we had to plan. Just because this is a bit of a surprise baby doesn’t mean we aren’t happy or ready to have it. Don’t feel like we don’t want this. Do you want this?”

“I do that’s why I was scared…”

The tears slowly started to dry as the situation started to turn around.

“Another baby can you believe it? When do you think it happened.” Sam said as she looked down at her wife's belly, rubbing it along with Miguel. Readers face felt warm.

“I'm about two weeks late...but I don't know how far along I technically am. I thought it was just stress, I didn't actually notice I was late until after I saw Sam at the office. My period tracker alerted me that I was late. I took the tests once I got home.”

The three of them sat down on the bed once again.

“I’m so excited! Oh boy it feels like the very first time all over again.” Sam sighs into Readers collarbone. She presses herself up against the softer woman, hand on her thigh. Miguel is on the other side resting his chin on Reader’s head. He hum as he kisses her forehead. All three of them hold each others hands.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing, it was just the right time.

#cobra kai #cobra kai blog #cobra kai ask blog #cobra kai headcanons #poly miguel and sam #poly sam and miguel #samantha larusso #sam larusso x reader #sam larusso x chubby reader #samantha larusso x reader #sam larusso #samantha larusso x chubby reader #miguel diaz #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz x chubby reader #cobra kai miguel #cobra kai x chubby reader #chubby reader #pregnant reader #pregnancy headcanon #pregnancy

[supervillainarchaeologist]

Superhero Movie Fatigue Thoughts...

The seemingly infinite obsession people have with thinking the Russos are an authority on all things comic book film means of course they've been forced to wade in on this never-ending conversation about "what's gone wrong." For what it's worth, I thought their answer was fairly diplomatic and anyone who has been following me even briefly knows it costs me QUITE a lot to compliment them (to be honest, Winter Soldier was definitely very good) but they do have a point. I think they're only part-right that viewing habits between generations is to blame, but they were hardly likely to be more frank and say "yeah the recent offerings have been absolute ass" when they're more famous than they could ever dream of being due to Marvel/Disney. Before I get into my own relationship with comic book films I need to give some other context: I am genuinely a film fan in general and the lack of choice some months in the cinema thanks to Marvel Release #367 has started to annoy me. Sometimes there'll be a different film I want to see and it's a case of blink and you'll miss it. Life gets in the way and you didn't find the time to go to the cinema for that one six hour window it was actually playing. I know this seems pretty rich coming from someone who mostly blogs about Loki and other science fiction/fantasy stuff but I do genuinely love films. Despite the existence of streaming my husband and I have a huge Blu-ray and DVD collection. We want more original content at the cinema. I really enjoyed Barbenheimer last year, I can't remember the last time I wanted to go to the cinema for a double feature before then - I think it was 2019! I know there are ways you can criticise that phenomenon too but it felt like an organic build up to something that was a lot of fun and, depending on your view point, you got to see 1 or 2 pretty good films out of it. Christopher Nolan has this whole counter movement and counter-counter movement surrounding him that isn't exactly unearned (I'm boring and fall in the middle, he's got good and bad points) but Oppenheimer was a genuinely great film in my opinion. It didn't feel like three hours and the main performances were all outstanding. By contrast I remember feeling every minute of Endgame's run time. That's not me saying I can't sit for three hours, that's me saying that I think my brain was simply done with the Infinity Saga by that point. (Going to put this under a cut because it's getting quite long...)

Now to circle that back to what the Russos were saying, I do think a lot of folk in my generation basically decided Endgame was a good time to check out. Many of us had seen the bulk of any comic book releases between circa 2000 and 2019, that's from childhood/teens through a lot of life changes. It's not that we don't necessarily love comic book films any more, it's that you become a bit more time poor as you get older for various reasons and you're maybe a bit more choosy about what you are willing to schedule among everything else in your life. Personally I don't have my own kids but I have family (mine and my husband's) scattered all over England and Scotland (which requires a lot of time to visit them) and I've become busier at work over the last five years. A lot of my tumblr posting happens during evenings/weekends or in a flurry when I'm on a tea break. I got to the point with the MCU where I realised that I was getting attached to characters and storylines and canon was just never going to give me the things I wanted. You accept this is part of following fiction btw, it's just that I took the view "what's the point in wasting my time on something that isn't bringing me the joy it once did?" Hence I decided I would no longer go to the cinema for every Marvel release regardless of how good it allegedly was - quality didn't factor in my decision, I think "maybe I'll watch it on Disney+" - which is what I did with Guardians of the Galaxy Vol3. The other thing in the equation is that over that 19-20 year period I mentioned I think people forget that there were other non-MCU films where there's a LOT of drek. I have never enjoyed a Fantastic Four film. The X-Men and original Spider-Man trilogies seemed to fall off a cliff during their third entries and my personal take on that is that both of those third films are overstuffed with references and characters and they also contain stupid decisions like doing the Dark Phoenix saga yet killing Cyclops. At the same time, and speaking of Christopher Nolan, I will always love the Dark Knight trilogy even though TDKR skirts around that third-movie disappointment thing. The MCU felt so much different for a while because even when there were films that maybe felt not quite as good as some of the others, it still managed to pull you in and make you care. But I always knew there was a point where it would start groaning under its own weight and although some people point to the Multiverse Sage I feel it was already happening in Phase 3. Just think of how many characters were on the posters/general promo for Endgame - how many of those characters were in the entire run time for probably less than a dozen or so minutes? It was just too much. But you forgave it because you were invested in seeing how it ended. And then it ended, pissing some people off in the process, and you're surprised that a lot of the audience just doesn't want to do this any more? You know what else this reminds me of... ...welcome to comic books Marvel Studios. You have finally created a wholly authentic page to screen experience right down to people getting fed up of keeping up with everything. I guarantee now the original actors are aging out of their roles you're considering blowing it all up aren't you? Aren't you?! So yes, the Russos are maybe right that younger Gen Z and Gen Alpha would rather consume things instantly in their own time than gather around for event TV/films. But considering that many of us across the generations are into older media and technology (e.g. collecting physical media) I know from observing the audience at my screening of Barbie that there are younger folk who would go to the cinema for an event film...it's just that maybe the MCU defined their childhood in the way the older comic book films (and I mean stuff from earlier than the 00s too, things that were on TV on a Saturday afternoon!) did for me and now that chapter of their life is a nice memory to look back on - they maybe just can't be bothered with going through all that again.

#Marvel Cinematic Universe #Marvel #cinema #films #Russo Brothers #superhero films #superhero fatigue #Barbenheimer #ramblings #meta #maybe...idk? #comic books #comic book films #long post

[crispy-ghee]

I did think the show was at it's best when it was pushing the rivalry between bird and johnson, and I think the making him more of an asshole in season 1 would have worked better cause it could be from magic's perspective, then he gets fleshed out in season 2, but even then he still didn't get fleshed out as much as he could have been. Also the way they cut that episode where it goes from him seeing his dead dad, to buss romancing the new girlfriend was such a bad tonal shift. They could have cut that and had his mom appear, instead of holding her until the last episode. You don't introduce her with less than five minutes of screen time and then give her a 10 second big emotional payoff, you don't do that with an audience who isn't familiar with the real life people.

Another major issue for me was how they focused way more on the managerial side than the players, to the point that they would cut out a lot of the playing moments to focus on what buss and his family are doing. We know way more about the managing staff than most of the guys who are actually on the team playing basketball. And I think that's best exemplified by the fact that the final episode doesn't end on magic and the team, but on buss and his daughter.

Another thing I noticed, and I don't know if it was just me, but they seemed to continuously undercut the serious tone of moments if they were for characters that weren't the main focus, like that scene I mentioned with larry, them playing good vibrations over jeff mckinney's accident, which are just the ones that I remember really standing out to me as weird to do for actual real life tragedies.

I just think it was badly written overall.

All that said, I do like rewatching all the larry bird scenes.

I think these are all super valid points, and I agree with basically all of it. I understand them trying to focus on Buss because it was about the building of a dynasty, but that doesn't mean that it was compelling at all and it felt like they were interrupting the more interesting parts of the story. Especially in cases like, yeah, cutting from Larry's father's suicide to Buss and his girlfriend. I definitely felt like I had to sit through almost all of the family and business drama stuff just to get to the stuff I actually wanted to see.

Their approach to Larry's mom was really frustrating to me bc it diminished her role in his life a little bit in exchange for the dramatic punch of his father's death, but the fact that she wasn't seen *at all* during the episode they set aside for his backstory was baffling. I think maybe they were trying to have it be like they were saving seeing Larry's soft side to juxtapose it against when he was at his most "villainous" to the Lakers, but that didn't mean having to cut out his mother completely until that moment. Especially since she got so little screen time even then.

Part of me wonders if it was supposed to be just a taste of seeing her influence before presumably showing her hand in Magic and Larry's eventually friendship in the next season (which is now not happening), like they were trying to foreshadow something, but to be honest, I think it's largely the fact that there was too much shit happening in the second season. Literally too many plot threads. So all this stuff got relegated to only a few minutes.

I do enjoy the times when it actually is about Larry and Magic, because that's the most fleshed out/interesting thing that they had, though I do think that there's some interesting stuff about the politics of the team if only they'd approached it right. But they really wanted to make a show about the business drama first, it feels like, which sucks bc it means that the big charismatic people, the players, are second banana to the team owners and the coaches. Also again, I just...I did not care about the family drama. At all. I'm sure other people loved it, Buss is undoubtedly an interesting man, but I wanted to pull my hair out every time it cut to it.

I think they were trying for something that could've been interesting stylistically/presentation-wise, but also it came across as really messy and half-baked at a lot of points. There were moments where it really shined though, but it didn't always work. It's definitely disappointing.

I'm with you on the writing hahaha a lot of deep sighing and frustration on my part while watching. The pacing was so weird, a lot of moments that were supposed to hit felt entirely unearned or out of place.

And also liking rewatching the Larry Bird scenes. As weird and exaggerated as it was, I think you could tell they were having fun with him. If only they'd gotten better wigs and the actor didn't feel like he had to make his own mouth smaller by pursing his lips all the time ahahaha (I still think about how that was gonna be Bo Burnham and I get sad)

[nonotnolan]

All-Staff Meeting

“Where the heck are you?” I texted him, my eyes flitting back and forth between his work friends and the lobby door.  “The meeting is going to be starting soon, and I am never late!”  The thought of Preston ruining my reputation was enough to twist my stomach in knots.  Well, his stomach, I guess.  Four hours ago I woke up to the sound of a Twenty One Pilots ringtone and learned that Preston and I had swapped bodies overnight.

“calm down i have five minutes” he replied.  “im parking chill out tyler”  It was bad enough that, out of all of my coworkers, I swapped bodies with Preston.  The worst part is that it happened on the day of our mandatory all-staff store meeting.  Preston couldn’t afford to get written up again, and I refused to let him call out sick in my body.  Although, when I saw him arrive wearing my pajama pants out in public... maybe I should have.

“Why are you wearing sweatpants?” I texted, making a point not to talk to him directly.  Preston and I were... not exactly on friendly terms prior to this morning, and I didn’t want to raise anyone’s suspicion by suddenly talking to him.  We had both agreed that the less we talked to anyone, the less likely anyone would think something weird was happening.  Preston certainly didn’t want me ‘being a giant nerd’ in his body, and I didn’t want him to make me look like a bad employee.

Justin walked out of the manager’s office to start the meeting, so I tried to put my anxiety on the backburner so I could focus.  It was pretty standard stuff-- we’re running through chocolate syrup too fast so make sure you’re counting how many pumps you’re putting into each drink, don’t forget to ask each customer if they’re a rewards member, summer is a busy season for iced drinks so let the manager on duty know if the ice machine starts acting up.  The sort of announcements that should be common sense, but too many of my coworkers refuse to pay attention to the signs scattered around the back.

“Tyler, put your phone away!”  Justin’s sudden reprimand sent a jolt of panic to my heart before I realized he was talking to Preston in my body.  Of course, the sense of relief was replaced with embarrassment when I realized he had just gotten me in trouble in front of my boss.  Still, if that was the worst thing that happens to me until we can figure out how to undo this mess, I think I could live with that.

My phone vibrated, so I pulled it out to see what text message was so important that Preston couldn’t wait until after the meeting to send it.  “dont leave i wanna talk to you parking lot”  I couldn’t help but sigh.  Preston’s grammar was going to be the death of me.

“So what did you want to talk to me about, anyway?”  Once we woke up and had time to assess the situation, we had already agreed to switch apartments for however long this body swap was going to last, and we gave each other a bunch of spare clothes in case we were going to be in this for the long haul.  As far as I was concerned, there wasn’t anything else that needed to be discussed.  The last thing I wanted to do after this meeting was stay behind and talk to Preston-- I just wanted to go home and play some FF XIV.

“This whole swap thing, obviously,” he said, trying to give me the stink eye.  I had to admit, seeing him trying to look angry in my body was hysterical.  Is that what it looked like to other people?  “I know you’re behind this, Tyler.  You’re not surprised that it happened, you’re trying to have us both go through life as if nothing changed... clearly you think I’m an idiot.  I am not going to let you steal my muscles, so just change us back already.  Take someone else’s body.”

I could feel strain of my eyebrows as they shot up in disbelief.  “Excuse me!?  Do you really think I wanted this?  Do you really think your body is some sort of prize worth throwing away my life for?  News flash, Preston, but once I’m done with college, I’ll actually be doing something with my life, while you’ll never be anything more than a low wage barista.  If anything, you’re jealous of me!”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” Preston said, stepping closer to me.  “I sure wish I could be a five foot nothing, 100 pounds if wet pathetic excuse for a man.  If only I could throw away all of the hard work I put into my body so that people can assume I’m just a pathetic gay twink.”

I had to admit, his insult worked-- the moment he tried to use gay as a slur, I started seeing red.  “At least I’m out and proud,” I said, unfolding my arms.  “Your computer unlocks by fingerprint, genius.  I found all of your porn.  For all I know, you DO want to throw away your body and become a twink.”

THAT struck a nerve.  We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, each of us daring the other to make the first move.  But I couldn’t take it anymore.  I grabbed my old body by the shirt, lifted him up, and started kissing him.  I felt the tension leave Preston as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, opening his mouth and letting our tongues intertwine.  Eventually I withdrew to catch my breath, only to find that somewhere in the middle of that kiss we had swapped back to our own bodies.

“I... can’t say this is how I expected to come out of the closet,” Preston said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “But, uhhhh... I enjoyed that, and I think you did too.  Did you maybe want to, uh, be my... ummm...”

I reached up, grabbed his baseball cap, and slipped it onto my head.  “You, sir, are equal parts stubborn and sexy, and one of the few people who can actually stand up to me.  I would love to see what happens if we date each other.  Given that we had to swap bodies to even acknowledge each other, it only seems right that we give it a shot.”

“It’s about time,” Justin said, as he watched Preston and Tyler confront each other in the parking lot over the building’s security cameras.  Ever since he’d hired the gym rat a few weeks ago, the sexual tension at his store had reached ridiculous levels.  All of the single girls were trying to flirt with Preston, who was was too closeted to turn them down.  Meanwhile Preston kept ogling Tyler, whose head too far up his own ass to notice that someone was checking him out.  Swapping their bodies like that had been a very expensive spell to cast, but it was worth it just to keep the workplace drama to a minimum.  “The things I do to keep this place running smoothly.”

#male body swap #gay body swap #casual body swap #jock #nerd #gay male story #queer romance #nerd to jock #jock to nerd #muscle jock

[littlesmartart]

I am currently doing a Leverage rewatch which naturally reminded me of your fabulous Leverage AU. So now I have to know: How did JC learn how to steal in that AU?

so it comes from a weird combination of things. unlike Parker, JC does not naturally fall into thieving; his parents have impressed into him from a young age the importance of rules and family pride and keeping face in the community. he picks up some basic stuff from WWX - who had to develop many skills to survive on the streets and in foster care and, like many people with trauma, was not able to just immediately drop his coping mechanisms the second he was told he was apparently safe - but as WWX adjusts to life with the Jiangs, the two boys wind up using their skills with sleight of hand and distraction and acrobatics more for pranks and dares, and it becomes a sort of running challenge between them to try and steal things (though JC insists that they put them back afterwards). as always JC works twice as hard to try and keep up with WWX, so ends up with a combination of skills that he feels aren't good enough, but are actually way more advanced than the average person. and way more advanced than anyone would expect of a guy of his personality and build.

nothing really happens with these until the Jiang parents die, and the kids inherit the family business. in the couple years following, Yanli marries Zixuan and WWX gets together with Wangji, and JC is left to run the business by himself. he's miserable and lonely and full to bursting with abandonment issues but would NEVER communicate that to his siblings, NEVER, so rather than admitting that the business is going under, he picks up a night job as a security guard.

beggars can't be choosers, and unfortunately the company he works for is shitty and exploitative. JC doesn't care much that he's getting a crap deal, but as he watches employees and customers getting abused and cheated, the righteous anger starts to build. every day as he patrols he fumes and tries to figure out SOMETHING he could do that won't rock the boat in the community or get him fired, until one day it hits him: he has a very particular skillset. if he's smart and quick, if he does his research and bides his time for the perfect moment, he can steal what these people deserve...

he's just a cranky security guard. no one would believe that he could crack a safe, or pick a lock, or flip down from air vents, especially not in the five minutes that he disappears from the cameras on his rounds. he pulls it off perfectly, and it feels incredible, and he wants to throw up and he promises himself never again. it was a one-off, and he may have done it for a good reason but he is never taking a risk like that again.

aaaaaand then his old college buddy Nie Huaisang shows up, offering him a job, and all of the blind terror at the fact that someone figured out he's a thief vanishes when Meng Yao explains this the payoff from this job will keep the Jiang business in the black for years, and it comes with free revenge on the Jiangs' biggest competitor: Jin Guangshan.

so JC agrees to one more job. just... one last job.

(more leverage AU)

#leverage AU #jiang cheng #ask #anonymous #the untamed

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 22 - Glass Shard/Vehicular Accident/“Watch out!”

Scogan Bingo challenge Honeymoon

Marrying Logan was about as romantic and spectacular as anyone would expect, namely, one drunk Vegas chapel trip shy of a horrendous triviality.

It would probably have bothered Scott a lot more if it hadn’t been exactly what he'd expected. They'd talked about things, sure. Once or twice, in passing. Recent political developments once more nurturing mutant hostility in the general public made the climate for their school and their team rough as so often. With more conflicts arising and potentially lethal battles on the horizon every other week? Even two people who'd not even put something like a real label on their relationship so far felt the occasional need for a little bit of regularity, of stability in their lives. Plans, there had not been any, though. Not least because they didn’t want their teammates or the kids at Mutant High to know before the whole thing would be done with. Scott had had more than enough of his turbulent love life financing half the mutant magazine gossip writer salaries in this world.

And Logan mostly agreed to the whole deal in the first place because an according entry in the administration offices of this country made things simpler when it came to certain cases of emergency. Especially since Jean's last death, they couldn’t always rely on one of their own being around to patch either of them up after another mission gone south. Logan in particular could do well without yet another entry on his already impressive police record, for breaking some hospital security baboon's nose one day because he might not be allowed to visit his own boyfriend in some ICU.

Not to mention that, since they'd lost Charles in the clusterfuck that had been the Cure and Phoenix Crisis, finances at Mutant High had become significantly more complicated. Some really sweet tax benefits were a pretty convincing argument as far as Scott was concerned. In the end, nothing more than a convenience that they agreed, they could indulge in at some undefined point whenever the opportunity might knock. When that exactly happened, thanks to the two of them embarking on a small quest together, to stop a couple of lowlife bigots from ruining some wealthy mutant's private wedding in a luxurious country estate up North? It was only logical to accept the favor from a very graceful host, to lend them suits and the officiant already at the site anyway. In five minutes, everything was done with, much like expected. They put their signatures on the right spot on a couple of quickly scribbled-down papers and were even polite enough to stay for a drink each afterward. After wishing the actual happy couple good luck, they changed back into their uniforms and strode back to the X-jeep parked a couple of streets away. Technically, that could have been it. Except it only truly reached the front of Scott's thinking what they'd just done when he rummaged for the car keys in one of his belt pouches and heard the quiet rustling of that certain piece of paper in there, that the officiant had given them to take home. It was indeed the only tangible souvenir of soberly exchanged I Do's, save for a single photo that one of the host's guests had been nice enough to take with Scott's phone. No witnesses from their family or friends, no stinking green stuff in their suit jackets, no rings that neither of them would have worn a lot anyway thanks to their field duties ... No mushy music or fat white birds released into the sky ... Not even a slice of some far too sugary cake. And that part was more than alright. Scott had already had all that in the course of the whole drama that had been Jean and him even before her first demise at Alkali Lake. No need for repeat performances. But now that they were about to return home as if nothing had happened, Scott did feel a small sting of regret that there had not even been a couple of honest, heartfelt sentences to his now-husband earlier, about why today had felt so perfectly natural and right. Like something he'd wanted, instead of just something to be done for the show and for anyone but Jean and him, really, like that party with hundreds of guests at the mansion back then. Logan didn’t seem like he'd missed anything, but Scott suddenly realized that he didn’t want to let this rare day just for themselves end just yet. "Claws? What do you think about heading up North? You've been meaning to show me these parts you've been traveling before Liberty Island for a while."

"Now." Logan forgot that he'd just been about to light one of his obligatory cigars and stared at him over the edge of his zippo as if Scott had just grown red and blue scales and told him, Logan's freshly accepted new last name was Darkholme instead of Summers. "Are you asking me to go on a honeymoon, Slim?"

"Call it whatever you want. It's been more than two years since we went on a trip outside work is all I'm saying." Scott hurried to hide the treacherous blush on his cheeks by getting in the car but didn’t put the key in yet, nervously circling its ring on one fingertip instead. If Logan would say no, that would be entirely alright. Scott's desk at home was notoriously crumbling under the weight of everything that Charles' demise had left him in charge of anyway. Which was exactly why leaving all that administrative crap to his fellow staff members for a while sounded like heaven right now. "Besides, Ororo and Hank said they'd be fine if things here would take longer than expected."

"We're in our uniforms, Slim. I don’t got as much as a toothbrush on me." Logan was still bracing himself on the open passenger door as if he feared Scott would drive right off into the sunset if he sat down.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's gonna be a problem for a feral who's lived on the street for fifteen years. You know, we're in Canada. I heard they have grocery shops here. Fashion stores, even." Scott felt amused more than offended that his lover was being so reluctant about this. He'd known what he would get himself into falling in love with that rough-edged grump as they'd bonded over their shared grief after Alkali Lake. Arguments, diametrically differing opinions on everything from battle strategies to world politics, the occasional screaming match, and especially the fantastic make-up sex afterward were basically part of their relationship identity. The mere fact that they were working out so perfectly anyway proved they'd rightly embarked on this weird, risky adventure together back then. Celebrating that a little with a road trip which was one of their favorite shared hobbies as it was, listening to some good tune, having a couple of disgustingly unhealthy meals in the cheapest road joints possible, and checking in the most dubious motels night after night? As perfect as could get for the two of them. And Scott luckily knew by now how to make his stubborn boyfriend – his husband, Jesus, that thought would still need some time to get used to – see certain things his way. "Who knows, we might even come by an adult store or two. The good thing about hotel rooms?" He leaned over to the passenger seat to be able to look up at Logan with one eyebrow lewdly raised, licking his lips as he slowly eyed his lover from top to bottom, lingering on his midsection for just a second too long where he was pretty sure, the tight black leather of Logan's suit was about to get a little too tight, judging by Logan's slightly choppy breathing. "No nosy pupils with enhanced senses nearby and no immediate neighbors complaining about too-thin walls. Meaning, we can be as loud as we want."

Logan was so fast to get in the car beside him suddenly that it quietly rattled under his adamantium-enhanced weight. "Fine. What are we waiting for? Step on it, Slim."

Scott silently grinned to himself and did just that.

****

With Westchester briefly informed on the phone and no one there luckily seeming to suspect the real reason for Logan's and Scott's timeout, the shopping tour had gone as efficiently as expected as well. With the exception, of course, of an extra hour in said adult store that they'd deliberately entered separately, each leaving the shady one-story building with an inconspicuous brown bag of their own that didn’t reveal what delicious little surprises they held for the nights to come. And the first one of those was coming up in another hour or so already on the road if their electronic map wasn’t lying. Some acceptably clean spot by the roadside, judging by the customer reviews, where they wouldn’t have to listen to cockroach races all night but were very unlikely to be recognized by any non-existent high-profile guests for either their race or their public image. Just what they needed. Covering the miles in amicable silence, save for one of Logan's preferred classic rock discs in the player, Scott found he was really looking forward to relaxing together with his lover. For someone like him who needed well-laid-out plans, meticulous organization, and obsessive routines in everyday life to keep his body, his mind, and especially his gift under control, it had been a big step, letting Logan help him accept that not everything in life had to go according to firm schemes. And this … felt like one of the best of these rare decisions Scott had ever spontaneously made, ever since they'd brought him back at the time, after Phoenix, to a second life that he hadn’t been sure for a long while he deserved. It had been Logan, too, making it clear to Scott that being allowed to come back wasn’t about such ethereal moral questions. That all that counted was doing his best to help improve this world and not waste a single chance of finding something close to happiness in this new attempt at existence while he was at it. At least the latter was probably what they were up to right now. Without really thinking about it, Scott reached to his side to rest his hand on Logan's where it was unmoving on the instrument panel between them, shrugging in embarrassment when Logan snorted a smoke cloud at him. "Excess endorphins. Give me two days and I'll be back to normal."

"Hm." After a long squeeze, Logan let go of him, not quite unexpectedly, but made it a show to lean in closely and sniff at him exaggeratedly which promptly had a hint of heat rise under Scott's skin. Soon. "Nope, gotta disappoint you, Slim. No excess hormones. You're just a hopeless sap."

"Tell that to the people who keep yapping about the stick up my ass," Scott grumbled but quickly forgot about the little dig when Logan bent over to him even further for a kiss.

"Wasn’t complaining, was I?" Logan quickly backed away again, knowing exactly Scott wasn’t comfortable, not having his eyes on the street, even when it was a yawningly empty country road, with only tall oak trees left and right to see for miles. He teasingly patted Scott's hand on the stick, not quite reaching for it again though … That was until he turned his head back to the windshield and Scott saw his lover's narrow eyes suddenly go wide in the rear mirror, his hand immediately back on Scott's to slam that stick into parking position before Logan was even finished hissing out a warning. "Watch out!"

After years of working on one team with a feral, Scott had long stopped questioning such a tone of uncompromising certainty, even in situations when he couldn’t make out anything wrong whatsoever. Compared to someone like Logan, a normal mutant's senses, especially Scott's, thanks to his limited vision, would always be ridiculously inferior. He strongly doubted that his partner would have taken over the jeep from him just to avoid running some squirrel over, being so perfectly aware of exactly that dependency on control Scott had just been reminiscing about. Sadly, he already knew said control was lost for now before bringing his heel down on the brakes, years-long trained instincts of an avid speed racer and pilot kicking in as the car started to drift, dangerously close to the massive tree trunks lining the road. The telltale bangs and jerks of blown tires promptly said, they'd not been fast enough, avoiding the almost invisible trap on the road from whoever was trying to stop them. Scott had only his own instincts and muscle memory from countless simulations and similar attacks to thank for not crashing the damn jeep right against the next tree. Somehow, he managed to have it spin a few times only, the bumpy ride of the still slowing vehicle pressing both Logan and him painfully into their belts before they finally came to a halt. With his head still on that carousel and the pressure from those tremors throbbing behind his forehead, Scott needed a moment to blink his vision as free as his gift allowed, to notice they were back in the direction they'd been driving in and on the right side of the road. And that was where the good news ended.

More than a dozen burly shapes in unmarked black suits were approaching from afar, the menacing blinking of more than one huge weapon in the fading sunlight revealing, the attack had only just begun. Whoever was out to get them this time and had somehow found them in the middle of fucking nowhere – Scott made a frustrated mental note to check the car for trackers as he shook off the last disorientation with gritted teeth –, they were obviously ignorant to details like newlyweds' bliss and honeymoon peace.

His ever-simmering anger on the assholes of this damn world immediately rising to new levels, Scott let out a huff, shaking his head when Logan held out his VISOR from the glove box for him in a reflex long become routine between them in the field. Much as Scott appreciated it, taking his eyes off the damn surroundings even for a split second right now was indeed a very bad idea. He knew before he even saw one of the enemies in the distance raise something long and sharp high over his shoulder. One hand already on the control in the middle of the wheel that changed the car's everyday functions to battle mode, he took another split second to swipe over the button nearby that would activate auto repairs. The at least remotely soothing sound of suppressed vacuum and alien tech mechanics inside the ruined wheels revealed, the almost-crash at least hadn’t shredded all most crucial functions. Including, hopefully, the protection of the thrice-reinforced material shielding their ride from outside threats, but they couldn’t rely on that. Therefore, Scott was only too happy to follow Logan's next warning too, his partner having spotted the incoming projectile just like he had, and crouched down towards the door with his head low. Just in time before the ominous tearing and bursting of their windshield giving in sounded and a sharp-edged shower of glass rained down on Scott's back and side, on the back of his unprotected hand where immediately a sharp twinge arose. No time to look, to bother. So much for reinforced glass. At least Logan's perfectly right reaction had protected them from having shards all over their faces, too, and the cover allowed Scott to switch his glasses for his main weapon of defense, finally … Which would be of absolutely no use at all in this situation as he had to learn, sitting up again, his hand already on the control wheel of his VISOR to fire a first broad salvo at their quickly approaching enemies. Nothing was happening, except the sudden almost painful overload of brightness and color rushing in on his depowered eyes through the small opening of his VISOR sent yet another cruel stab through his brain. The worry for his partner was far worse though, growing by a thousand when Scott turned his head with a surprised hiss to look at whatever their enemies had thrown at them and saw a thin, long rod that had neatly pierced the backseat. Lodged between his partner and him, it blinked in a well-known, hated flash of red.

Inhibitor missile. There weren’t many hostile groups on this planet who had these kinds of weapons.

"Don't." Immediately catching on as well, Logan almost brutally reached for Scott's wrist when Scott tried to grab that damn thing to hurl it far from the car, get rid of the invisible radiation that rendered both of their gifts useless. "Such spears always got contact fuses. You pull that from where it hit, chances are this thing blows us both to pieces." His upper lip drawn back behind his teeth in a display of threatening loss of control, loud growls escaping his throat, Logan's hands were hard fists already but his claws stayed where they were. Experience had taught them painfully that without his healing factor, the blood loss from using his own main weapons thoughtlessly could easily take Logan prematurely out of a fight … And this was not something either of them needed when they were up against a whole Weapon X squad. "Stay put. I'll be right back. You keep your head down, Slim," Logan snapped at him before Scott had even opened his mouth to protest. "They're armed to their teeth. You don't even got some damn Kevlar on. I was promised honeymoon sex, I'm not carrying you out of here full of holes."

"And I'm not losing you to these assholes again. You know exactly they're not here for me. Stay on your ass, Claws," Scott shouted at him at least as pissed but not half as out of it. Not while there were still fortunately other ways to deal with all this than having to fear for his lover's life, freedom, and sanity once again. "I'm taking us out of here. You keep watching them. Tell me if they try anything funny. L.U.C.Y., status report."

Logan, visibly tempted to just jump out of the car anyway, froze with a look of bewilderment when the holo surface of the car's artificial intelligence came to live above the dashboard, a list of green or yellow arrows indicating, most of the car's other functions, too, were indeed still working, in spite of one window less and their tires only just being replaced by the spare set inside. As it dawned on him Scott wasn’t just being latently suicidal, ignoring a group of enemies with all kinds of hypermodern guns getting closer, but that he did have a plan that included far fewer bullets and blades for him to pry from Logan's body afterward, a weak grin appeared on Logan's lips. Along with the shadow of a bad conscience about his usual utter lack of interest in the X-Men's technology options that Scott had included even in their rides over the course of the years. Which in this case might be saving their asses. "You call it L.U.C.Y.?"

"Shut up and look like you're about to pounce them." Scott had to fight back a grin on his own. This was still potentially going south, but at least it would be fun. "Can't have them interfere." He'd rarely been more grateful before for a few very generous additional technical gifts from Stark Tower in the last few years since his resurrection in which not least the X-Men's competitive team had had a hand in. Tony's user surfaces were much easier for humans to navigate than the Shi’ar holo controls which in a situation like this when it was about seconds only, saved crucial time. Scott impatiently wiped his red-stained hand on his jeans, grimacing at the renewed pain before he swiped in another fast string of commands. With tight lips, from the corner of his eyes only, he watched Logan get up on his seat, half leaning out of the ruined window with his claws now threateningly out after all, more blood dripping over the hood's beige paint as his lover was clearly signaling their enemies that he had no intention of backing down and rolling over, just because his powers weren’t working as they should. It was a sight that shouldn’t be half as hot as it was right now. But making the best of every second also included, Scott supposed, committing a perfect view like of his lover's firm ass in tight jeans, for once undisturbed by the usual red of Scott's powers, to memory while the vehicle computer processed his commands. "We're good. Head down," he shouted when the warm female voice of his artificial assistant confirmed that they were ready to go. "All the way down. They're not gonna be happy, and we're not bulletproof right now," he added tightly, pulling Logan with him to cower behind the dashboard a second time. "Cover your ears. L.U.C.Y., engage." Not a second later, the car's external boxes sent a shrill sound, recorded from one of their possible future team members, across all of the nearby surroundings, hurtful to their own ears, too, in spite of protection.

But not half as much as to their enemies who were immediately stopped in their approach. Screams of agony filled the air, another couple of badly aimed projectiles hitting the jeep. Only primitive bullets this time, either stopped easily by the reinforced bodywork or hitting high above their heads, getting stuck in the robust leather of their seats.

And that was when the autopilot got them back going. The moment they'd passed a sharp turn a couple of feet ahead, the prepared hyperdrive mode was activated, and the jeep left their enemies far behind before the soldiers had even gotten back to their feet. A far too merciful hit for these motherfuckers actually, as Scott bitterly thought when he scrambled to sit up again once they were far enough from the hostiles, relieved to take the wheel again. Another day, in another kind of confrontation he wouldn’t have hesitated to turn this thing back around and get rid of these people, making as many prisoners as possible for questioning before giving them to S.H.I.E.L.D. for further prosecution … But a fight against Weapon X never went without casualties. He was just as little interested in spending their honeymoon on some sick bay as Logan was … or worse. Today, they'd been lucky, honestly.

And Scott was obviously not the only one harboring such gloomy thoughts. Once he'd parked the car in some well-hidden clearing at a safe distance from the site of attack and L.U.C.Y.'s external sensors confirmed, there weren’t any enemies or hostile vehicles anywhere in the air or on the ground, Logan was in a remarkable hurry to leave the car for a cigar. He also had the badly hidden excuse of wanting to provisionally repair the ruined windshield with some transparent cover from the trunk.

Scott let him go for the moment because knowing when to give his lover some space was something he'd learned early on in this relationship. He used the time to disinfect and bandage the cut on his hand and, with it somewhat properly usable again, find a couple of tools from the glove box. With the necessary silence and focus on the task, it was a piece of cake, taking apart the enemies' weapon, deactivating the dangerous explosive inside along with the inhibitor function. Only moments later, Scott could feel the usual pressure and sting behind his forehead returning that announced, his gift was back. He closed his eyes with a sigh somewhere between decades-old resignation and relief before slipping his glasses back on, the last of the crisis being taken care of, and for once without any damage to speak of. At least not any outside one. "We should get going," he said hesitatively when Logan made no move to come back to the car from where he was leaning against some tree, the makeshift repair long done.

It didn’t escape Scott that his lover's hand was still slightly shaking though the wounds from his claws were now closed, and that Logan was still a good deal too pale under his rugged beard. Encounters with Weapon X tended to do that, and Scott had little interest in risking yet another one today.

"They could still be nearby."

"Which is why you should leave," Logan said flatly, almost coldly, to Scott's shock, staring down at his cigar as if he'd never seen one before, just to avoid looking Scott in the eye. And suddenly Scott felt like he couldn’t breathe. "Drive to the nearest town, call the others. Have them get you with the jet. I'll take care of these bastards. See if they got a base nearby, tear it to the ground. I want as many of them gone as possible. I'll be fine; don’t look at me like that. Powers are long back."

"Until these guys shoot the next inhibitor spear right through your guts, yeah. Not happening. Seeing that one time still haunts my dreams." Scott wearily rubbed his eyes behind his glasses and got out of the car, with a mental note about a painkiller or two in his immediate future when he used the wrong hand for the handle. Definitely not like he'd pictured this afternoon to go … And yet he was glad that Logan wasn’t entirely shutting down or just running like he would have in the past, actually giving Scott a chance to get through to his thick head. Emma would have called that progress or something. "We talked about this often enough, Logan. Destroying a couple of their pawns and single locations doesn’t do shit with an underground organization that large. Weapon X is a project that we've been working on taking down for years, and not only us. One day, they'll be gone, I promised you that." Leaning against the tree opposite Logan's, Scott reached out for another of these encouraging squeezes of his lover's hand, not too surprised when Logan immediately pulled away once more. This wouldn’t be that easy, not after a fight like this. "Until then, I refuse to let these assholes ruin our lives. We got more fun plans this week than bathing in blood and biting a couple of bullets."

"Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake," Logan answered even more quietly, his shoulders tightly drawn in when Scott drew a sharp, hurt breath. "Look, I'm sorry, Slim. You know how crazy I am about your stupid ass. But you almost just got blown to bits because I had mercenaries on my neck. I always got mercenaries on my neck. You'll never be safe as long as you you're with me."

"Safe." It took a lot not to get pissed enough to shoot his partner right in the dick just on principle for this sudden bout of overprotectiveness. Seeing that haunted look in his beautiful hazel eyes when Scott slowly stepped closer, resting his hands left and right of Logan's head on that trunk, helped at least keep his voice to a low hiss. "I'm being hunted by an all-powerful mad scientist obsessed with my mutation every fucking year for my birthday. I'm fighting shapeshifters, ferals thrice your size, and element masters on a weekly basis, with just a bit of lightning show from my eyes, ever since I was fifteen, for a humanity that would rather lock me up or slit my throat than thank me for it. I'm getting beaten up when I'm entering a damn booze store if I'm not careful because every fucking bigot on this planet knows my mug thanks to these damn glasses. My ex-wife is a possessed almighty cosmic fire demon that might or not come back anytime to rip me right back into particles. My ex-girlfriend is a powerful telepath thirsting for world dominance and rolling for a new moral compass as a first option every other month. Please, Logan, do tell me again how you can get me in danger."

Logan tiredly raised the hand not holding his cigar to Scott's bloodstained shirt, clenching it around those ruined buttons, keeping him on a few last inches of distance left, visibly fighting himself. "You don’t get it, Scooter. None of these people are Weapon X. Nothing of all this …" He paused, struggling with words, when Scott only raised an eyebrow at him, still not ready to let something come between them, just when they'd been closer than ever today. "Of all the shit shows that you and I saw out there, these people are the only ones who ever managed to get inside my head. They controlled me once, Scott, don't you get what that means? They have the power to make me the one thing I'm terrified of. And if that ever happens again, if they manage to lock my mind up again … Then you know where they'll send me for the first kill."

"Probably, yes," Scott nodded calmly, a bitter smile on his lips when Logan quietly gasped, obviously not having expected him to be so sober about this worst possibility of all.

"And what exactly will you do then when I'm standing in front of your house, threatening our children?" Logan urged, desperation in his voice as he tried in vain to get himself to shove Scott away, his hand tensing again and again without the necessary force. He couldn’t, as much as he wanted to, as afraid as he was of this worst-case scenario, and that alone let Scott know, they had made the right choice today.

He leaned in without hesitation to capture Logan's lips in a soft kiss, glad when his lover made no more move to pull away. "Then I'll do exactly what I did with those assholes back there before you can even come inside."

"Is that a promise?" Only now, that veil of panicked concern lifted a little from Logan's distorted features.

"If you need one. This is the day for oaths, isn’t it?" Scott asked cynically. "So here you have another one: Once I've shot you down and I got you knocked out, trussed up and hooked to an IV of narcotics, I'll take you to Emma so she can deprogram you. And if Emma isn’t around I'll find someone else to get the job done. Ever until you're back with me. If you think I'm ever letting that cute ass of yours walk away from me again, you got another think coming, James Summers."

Logan winced a little, very obviously not used to that new official name yet that his documents would soon sport, but when an askew grin curled on his lips, it seemed sincere. "You're fantasizing about my ass an awful lot for a guy covered in blood with a butchered hand."

"I don't need my hand to eat you alive," Scott answered sweetly before leaning down for another kiss that had nothing of the innocent nature of the last one though, his body instinctively pressing Logan's smaller, broader one against the rough bark as his tongue deeply invaded Logan's mouth, tasting the last of adrenaline, ash and that expensive bourbon from the ceremony earlier. A hum of anticipation came from his lips when he lost himself to the fantasy of all the things they'd be getting up to once they'd arrive at that motel. Starting with indeed a very badly needed shower hopefully taken together. And once Scott would have Logan splayed out on some terrible rose petal-covered mattress all naked and flushed … The alluring image in his mind turned into an unexpected rush of energy in his veins as Logan used the moment of him not being on alert, to take the lead.

His hand on Scott's shirt slipping between those buttons and easily ripping them apart for a first greedy caress, a harsh grip found his behind, kneading in that hard, slow way, clever fingertips already slipping between his legs from behind that always had Scott boneless within seconds.

His head suddenly spinning even more than after that crash earlier, he moaned against Logan's lips, the skeptical voice inside his head very quiet that pointed out that they were in public, as Logan impatiently worked his hand under Scott's jeans and underwear. Fuck that. L.U.C.Y.'s scanners were still activated and programmed to warn about any life sign in the immediate surroundings. Not everything needed to happen in proper order indeed. Distracted by the growing hardness not only under his own pants, Scott willingly let himself be walked back the few steps to their car, both his hands buried in Logan's hair, panting, only stopping to frown when the back of his thighs hit the car's hood because he'd assumed Logan had the backseat in mind, or maybe the truck bed … He should know his passionate lover better by now, especially when they were both pumped full of battle adrenaline and in dire need to forget what had almost just happened back there on that road.

Logan smoothly going to his knees in front of him already, ripping his pants open, such considerations were forgotten for good. A hot velvety mouth was wrapped around Scott's cock without much ado, without any games that out here, in spite of all goodwill to let his hair down a little, didn’t have a place.

His hands tightening on Logan's unruly hair, Scott threw his head back with a turned-on shout when his lover took him right in all the way, swallowing around him greedily. A clear gesture of an elbow at the inside of his thighs nudged his legs further apart, the assault of soft wetness along with a harsh grip around his tightening balls far too overwhelming for now to even think of returning the favor.

The telltale sound of some cap opening provoked the memory of leaving that adult shop earlier, of Scott seeing Logan pocket something from the corner of his eyes … Of course, the sly bastard had had planned something for this first day of the rest of their lives together.

Scott scrambled to reach back for the hood, trembling, bracing himself there because he was pretty sure he would have hurt Logan, holding on to him as the beloved touch of clever, slick fingertips found his tense cheeks, going between them just as purposefully as the rest of this little unexpected encounter shaped out to be. After all these nights spent together, Logan needed less than a minute before he had Scott push down against two thick, quickly thrusting fingers with hardly suppressed moans, writhing on the cool, hard surface, the repeated firm pressure against his most sensitive spot inside soon making him leak thick white into the heavenly suction of Logan's mouth. The beautiful light of the descending sun in the sky was a dear, fresh memory beyond what Scott could make out from behind his glasses when he leaned his head back out of breath, his nails scraping over the paint as he tried to keep himself from getting too carried away. "Fuck … Logan … Please …"

"On it, Slim." With one smooth motion, Logan was back standing before him, grabbing his hips, his arm, in an alluringly easy display of strength to flip him around before Scott had taken as much as one breath to suggest something maybe less out in the open …

If he was being honest, even a few steps to the back of the car would have been far too much right now. With his lover's large, strong hands on his hips, he willingly raised them when he felt the oiled touch of something thick throbbing between his cheeks. An uncontrolled groan came from his lips when that pressure grew, slowly enough but without stopping until he had to bury his face against his elbow to stifle his noises, his body shaking from that perfect sensation of being filled so thoroughly. With Logan's hand back on his own raging erection, shielding him from unpleasant bruises from the car hood thanks to his lover's harsh, quick thrusts, it was less than half an embarrassing minute before Scott spilled all over his lover's hand with his name on his lips, one hand so tightly around a wiper that he almost ripped it off, his muscles clenching down so firmly once more that he could feel Logan empty himself deep inside him almost at the same moment. So. That was what they called consummating a marriage when a feral was involved.

*****

"I still think it might be better if we went home." After checking in, getting sufficiently clean, and with a few carbs from the truck stop on the way in their stomachs, Logan at least approached the subject of their honeymoon a lot more rationally than in the woods earlier. It was obvious he'd used the half an hour for a smoke alone outside that he'd been asking Scott for, to think. The sigh on his lips when he sat down on the bed next to Scott sounded honestly unhappy. "With that wreck of a car, we're not exactly inconspicuous, you know."

"I just checked." Scott held up his phone and showed Logan a spot on the maps program he'd marked, not five minutes from here. "Garage to rent. I already made reservations. I'll have this baby back to factory default within a day, don’t worry. And we'll be all alone, so you can spend that time ogling my ass. Or give me a hand. Whatever you prefer. So once we got tired of watching the Red Sox fucking up, we'll be ready to move on to the next place."

"Burgers, baseball, and shop, huh?" Logan remarked with half a smirk, easily convinced. "Not exactly what most people usually do after tying the knot, I guess."

"Good thing, too. Most people, I don’t want to be married to." Scott itched to pull Logan in for a kiss but he still had his hand under the blanket, holding a certain something that he'd been preparing in these minutes alone, and he hadn’t quite mustered up the guts yet to take it out.

"Speaking of it, Slim …" To his surprise, it was Logan who suddenly fumbled with something in the pocket of his brand-new shirt. The shitty lighting of the run-down room made it hard to tell, just like the obstacle of Scott's glasses, but he could almost have sworn, his dear husband was just about to blush. "Talked to Hank when you were in the shower. Had him finish something he and I were talking about for a while. King Kong got Piotr's kid sister to bring it while I was outside. No freaking out now, please, this is just … Things were a little too close for my taste earlier." After another deep breath, Logan slowly opened his fist and presented Scott with a broad white gold ring, sized to fit his thumb and slightly thicker than normal jewelry as Scott immediately noticed, with his mouth ajar, when Logan laid the thing down between them. "It's got a transmitter inside that can be connected to your VISORs, to open them. Hank's also working on a version of glasses for you that can open similarly to a VISOR. He'll be done by the time we get home. I don't ever want to see you take a bullet just because you're wearing the wrong damn thing on your eyes or because you can't reach your control wheel."

"And here I was certain you'd gut me for the idea of ... uh … this." His hand no longer trembling, Scott finally raised it once he could trust his voice again, to show Logan the set of dog tags he'd found on their shopping trip earlier and engraved in those last thirty minutes alone, with the help of his blast, so that they now sported both Logan's new name and today's date. "Just a reminder," he added hesitantly when Logan took the pendant from him without a word, slowly turning it between his fingertips, lost in memory about the people, the place where he'd last gotten a thing like this. A thing that for so long had been a symbol of hope for his quest for his lost past, until he'd thrown it at Stryker's feet by Alkali Lake … It was something that Scott hoped could become such a beacon for Logan's endless, restless search again. Including the discreet reminder that he was no longer forced to go on it alone. "You don’t need to wear them if you don’t … I just thought …"

When Logan shut him up with a long, tender kiss, they took only just enough time to put on their respective improvised wedding jewelry before being all over each other for a second time today. There was no need for any more words this night.

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

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