#angel with a lariat

[eriksangel666]

New podcast episode is up! This week, we mosey on down to Alberta Canada and dosey do with one of their greatest singers, kd lang!

[lavalierre]

“Rose Garden” - k. d. lang, Angel with a Lariat, 1987

[dynamitekansai]

[haplesshandmade]

long beaded lariat necklace coming in april’s one of a kind collection ✨

[darbyallinsskateboard]

Poly! Elite x wrestler reader?

Please I love anything poly elite

Elite's Princess (Poly! Elite x Feminine! Wrestler! Reader)

Warnings : Age Gaps (Reader is 25)

Ever since you were a child you had always loved wrestling, even leading up into your teenage years it was always a passion for you, when you were just 16 you started training, getting into NJPW at the age of 20, you encountered people you looked up to as a kid and that was definitely the highlight of your career.

All of that had led you up to this moment, you fasten the laces of your wrestling boots and tie them up in a neat little bow, you stood up and checked yourself out in the mirror, straightening your puffy skirt out and fixing up the frills on your gloves (The outfit would be something like Mizuki's).

Tonight you had your first championship match since joining the AEW, you had a match against Toni Storm and you were hellbent on taking the title off of her, as I'm straightening my long entrance robe out(Like Charlotte Flair), a swift knock on the door of your locker room door caught your attention and you walk over to the door "Who is it?" you question.

"Guess" you squealed and flung the door open "Kenny!" you pulled him down into a hug and looked past him to see the rest of the elite, you smile widely at them and let go of Kenny "Hey! what are you guys doing here?" "come to congratulate you! not every day someone gets a title shot angel face" Nick spoke up as the boys all came into the room "Thanks! I can't wait till I have the championship gold around my waist!"

"Look at the princess, all suited up" said Adam as he stepped over and stared at your robe, picking it up "Arm's up princess, want to see how you look in this" you follow his demand and he slips it onto you, the boys all stare and nod "You look too good to lose princess, now let's get you out there" you nod and make your way to the guerilla with the boys, waiting for your queue "And her Challenger hailing from (Wherever)! The Princess Of The Elite! (Y/R/N)!" your music suddenly starts up and you sashay your way out, doing little spins in your coat to show the fluff and frill.

The match was going as planned, the crowd was roaring and the cheers were getting louder, until the outcasts came out to ringside to 'spectate' it all went downhill, while Saraya distracted the referee Ruby handed Toni the title and she smashed me across the face with it, I was bent halfway in the ring and Toni ran over, hooking my head between her legs, and hitting me with a storm zero, I felt the air knocked out of my lungs as I struggled to keep my breath, Toni scurries over and pins me, but mid 2 count the lights go out and the ref has to stop the count.

You managed to get up and watched as the titan Tron managed to light up the arena, in a blue shine, your theme was playing as you saw four figures step out from behind the guerilla, it seemed to have all of the outcasts attention as Toni stepped towards the ropes opposite to me "turn around bitch!" I yelled and sprint towards her, hitting her with a V-trigger and watching as she collapses onto the ground, I watch as the Elite start making their way down the ramp but the outcasts block them.

I run to the other end of the ropes and flip over them, taking both Saraya and Ruby out, I look back and Toni got back up so I get myself back up onto the apron and spring board flip over, hitting her with a buckshot lariat, I lay over her as the ref starts counting "1....2.....3!" I scream as I crawl off of Toni, holding my head in shock, then slipping out of the ring, ripping my title from the table and lifting it up.

I back up into the elite with my title raised "I cant believe this! The Elite's Princess actually won the title!" came from the announcers desk, you didn't care who it was, you just cared you were a champion in the arms of your lovers as you made your way backstage.

I had sat down on my couch and immediately got pounced on by all the boys, I giggle as they all hug me "Our little champion, you did so good out there princess" you smile at Adam and peck his cheek "Thanks" all the boys were proud of you and all showed it in their own way, peppering kisses anywhere they could on your skin as they cuddled you into the couch.

"Now we should go out to dinner to celebrate then?" Kenny asks and I immediately smile widely "I CALL SHOTGUN!" everyone in the room laughs, and I couldn't be happier in this moment then with my boys

A/N I hope you like this because I had fun with this

[fractiflos]

To get some of the more obscure holders, how about headcanons for En? How he met Daigoro Banjo, how he obtained OFA, how he died, etc. Thank you!

YESSSSS! I HAVE SO MANY FOR EN! They're out of order, but I'm too excited to format it correctly. Sorry it got so long.

En was the youngest of 6 siblings. I have more on that here

All throughout high school he was made fun of for being short at 5'3 (160 cm) and would always say "just wait until I hit my growth spurt" and he did. He grew to the height of 5'6 (168 cm). Because of that, he always appreciates it when someone is shorter than him

This is part of the reason he became a babysitter, entertaining kids with his amazing art skills

His quirk first activated when he was in kindergarten. Back then, quirks didn't manifest until about 10, but he was under distress because all the other kids were making fun of him.

Part of the reason he fell in love with his girlfriend (Akane Akagi) is because she was shorter than he was. It's also why he likes their Ninth holder so much.

En just finished high school and had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. He loved technology, so his siblings encouraged him to do something with computers, because that's where all the money's at. He wasn't sure and decided to take a jog in the park to take his mind off things where he ran into a villain. His quirk activated on accident, allowing the new hero Lariat to take him down. After, Lariat invited him to join the new program of underground heroes the government was starting.

However, back then, underground heroes were stereotyped as cowards in the hero business. You see, this was just when quirked people were starting to become a bigger part of the population. Limelight heroes had a very good chance of being mobbed for the reason that they had quirks, and because they weren't allowed to fight back, they had a very good chance of being killed. Meanwhile, nobody even knew underground heroes existed, allowing them to be able to live a normal life. En experienced some workplace bullying because of that.

Banjo was cool though, and taught him a lot. He also became good friends with other heroes, such as Crimson Riot. And remember that girlfriend I mentioned? Yeah, she also became an underground hero. Unfortunately, she died young after being hit by a drunk driver. En's coat is red to honor her.

Red coat, blue coat, purple coat. This all means one thing. En is Bi.

En met Nana after being invited to her wedding along with his brother, Tatsuo (who would become a manga artist). Also, this happens after Banjo's death.

He was invited because Tatsuo was originally going to bring his girlfriend, but they broke up and the bride said he could come, because he was poor and in need of some good wedding food. He fell asleep during the ceremony, but after, on his way to the bathroom, he heard her crying. As it turns out, Nana's mother-in-law was a bitch to her throughout her and her husband's entire relationship. She just didn't say anything because said in-law acted like the perfect angel in front of everyone else and she was worried she wouldn't be believed. En gave her a peptalk and was surprised to see one of the new heroes from the newly created Twilight division emerge from behind the door but shrugged it off.

It was a good wedding. He ate a bunch and went back to work. Only to run into Nana again along with the fast-rising limelighter Gran Torino. They were all assigned a case, where he found himself impressed at Nana's skills. He thought back to how they first met and decided it couldn't be a coincidence. He offered her his quirk and she accepted, even knowing that she would have to fight against AFO.

AFO tried to take his quirk for the second time in their last battle. En found one of his Nomu experiment factories and was told to destroy it along with some other heroes. He didn't mean to get into battle with AFO, but it was becoming clearer that it would be unavoidable so he made sure everyone got out safely before confronting the man. After failing to steal his quirk the second time, All For One killed him out of frustration. At least the factory ended up being destroyed.

En's fighting style consisted of sneaking up on people and knocking them out. His coat has a bunch of pockets where he keeps some of his weapons and support items. His support items consist of two types of smoke bombs that he fills up with his smoke.

One type of bomb is your regular smoke bomb that fills a place up with a ton of smoke, but adds a few compounds made to irritate the lungs, forcing people to cough without being able to suppress it. The other does the same thing, but releases the smoke slowly over time. While his smoke doesn't affect him (and he's built up a decent immunity to other types of smoke) he still has the high collar to help filter out irritants like that, as long-term exposure to those things can be dangerous.

His weapons of choice are daggers, hammer, and those little rope things you throw at people that wrap around their legs and tie them up.

He and Banjo had a special move where Banjo would wrap Blackwhip around him, and then swing him around, knocking him into the enemy. Like that one scene in that Spy Kids movie, I forgot the name of.

En likes your usual house pets, but his favorites are reptiles. He always wanted a pet chameleon, but didn't have the resources for it.

He loves barbecue and his favorite drink is fruit juice. Any type of fruit juice. His favorite alcohol is wine. His favorite dessert is ice cream, it doesn't matter what flavor, he loves ice cream.

En's favorite season is winter because he really likes to wear scarves and thick coats. And yes, he eats ice cream in winter.

[eemcintyre]

My personal favorite 12 red-carpet dresses of all-time + why

I tried with everything in me and could not narrow it down to 10

1 | Zooey Deschanel in Oscar de la Renta (2014)

This look contains so many fun, small details, without any of which it wouldn't feel complete. It meets all of my expectations for what a red carpet dress should be- glitzy and glamorous, sure, but not *too* much. While there are a lot of textures and embellishments going on, it's all one neutral color. It's giving flapper vibes that I love, plus we don't see crop tops too often and her contrasting hair color and pop of red lipstick are what bring it over the edge to complete perfection for me.

2 | Lana Del Rey in Gucci (2018)

This gown lived rent-free in my head for days after. I appreciate the vintage reference, especially to such an iconic lady as Hedy Lamarr, while Lana also makes it her own rather than doing a direct copy. You can tell great attention was paid to the details- the lariat necklace, accumulations of star beading, and the corsage. It's just far-out enough that only the premier goddess of angelic sad girl music could truly pull it off. It's also unusual and thrilling to see a crown, and her hair provides a necessary color contrast.

3 | Natalie Portman in Gucci (2018)

Not only is this look proof that you can, in fact, mix metals, but it is the perfect complement to and embodiment of the A-list icon that Natalie is. She exudes classic Old Hollywood glamor with the shoulder pads and glittery silhouette- I'm not usually a shoulder pad fan, but with this sleek silhouette, it adds some really nice dimension. Then, she exudes drama and sexiness with the V-slit neckline without it being distracting. Finally, the eye-catching bow might be my favorite part of the whole thing.

4 | Rebecca Ferguson in Vivienne Westwood (2023)

This dress was deceptively a bit boring to me at first glance, but the longer I studied it, I realized that there are so many lovely, complex details to this look. The monochromatic color palette is made fascinating by the usage of different textures that look like they are dripping off of her. Girl is literally dripping gorgeousness and the abstract draping of the pearls and skirt make her look like a work of art. While it's maybe not the best color for her and I personally think it makes her look a tiny bit washed out, it was my favorite of everyone's outfits during the Dead Reckoning tour by far.

5 | Lupita Nyong'o in Calvin Klein (2015)

Pearl accessories have been agreed upon by most to be the classiest accessories out there- so what does that say about this gown?? While the color and silhouette are unassuming at first glance, this dress is super decadent. There are few red carpet looks I've seen where the hours of meticulous craftsmanship that went into it are this evident. I love that the beads also are not organized to only display one texture, and the peephole below the neckline is a flirty touch of contrast. The way the gems interact with light is ethereal, and that one large pearl at the base of the neckline is just eye-catching perfection.

6 | Vanessa Kirby in Valentino (2022)

This set of separates is all about bold, powerful, and modern femininity. With the slit and open midsection, it reads as very flirty and sexy, while also being comfortable and confident in that sexuality. Since it's such an unconventional, attention-grabbing outfit, I like that Vanessa went simple on the rest of the look, but it seems like it's missing the tiniest final touch, like a cocktail ring or some silver earrings to match the shoes. Overall, I love that it's different and memorable from what I normally see, and totally encapsulates the phrase "fun, fresh and flirty."

7 | Natalie Portman in Schiaparelli (2024)

When I say mother is mothering. This is another prime example of a look that is deceptively simple at first glance but really has all kinds of intriguing layers to it. The cheeky cutout, the dramatic makeup, the "reputation"-esque clutch, and then on top of it all, the chunky chain neckline is my favorite touch, adding delightful texture and draping elegantly down her shoulders. A timeless and versatile ensemble you'd be hard-pressed to go wrong with. My queen is in her revenge dress era for sure.

8 | Natalie Portman in Dior (2024)

Again I am stunned by the hours of expert craftsmanship that must have gone into this dress. Collabs between her and Dior are practically a never-miss kind of deal- just serve after serve after serve. This gown is also amazing because of how timeless it is- the style could easily have come from a number of different decades, and its simplicity leaves the door open for all kinds of accessorizing. Speaking of which, it does feel like it's missing some miniscule detail, and I personally would have worn my hair down or in a ponytail with a less severe part. But this is ultimately yet another instance of an actress looking like a work of art- the delicate color gradient resembles a serene Monet or Seurat painting.

9 | SZA in Versace (2018)

This gown was everything that I believe the Met Gala "Heavenly Bodies" theme was supposed to be about, from the delicate celestial halo to the cloud-like skirt in sunrise pastel pink. The skirt is also a really cool silhouette that we don’t see very often and adds to the illusion of her floating on the clouded sky. Finally, the thigh-high matching boots were a super-fun surprise. It could fit a tiny bit better at the waist where it's bunching up, but by far the best look of the event that year.

10 | Amy Adams in Valentino (2014)

This look perfectly straddles the two extremes of simple and dramatic, as well as vintage and modern. While there aren't any patterns, ruffles, bows, beads, or any of that jazz, the small train is very sophisticated and the deep V neckline is an alluring and attention-commanding focal point, especially accented with a lovely pendant. I also love a good color block moment, and most of the look is very Old Hollywood. And whether it was intentional or coincidental, she truly looks meant to be at the red carpet, matching perfectly with it.

11 | Diane Kruger in Elie Saab (2016)

While I don't think that this was the right dress for the hair color and makeup she chose, I love the gown itself. Very evocative of lovecore (one of my favorite aesthetics) with the fun and intricate heart pattern. The belt is also a nice resting point for the eyes that keeps the pattern from getting overwhelming and gives the gown structure. It is flirty, flowy and a touch playful while also giving off an aura of edginess and mystery.

12 | Margot Robbie in Versace (2017)

This look is a wonderfully kitschy 90s throwback and not everyone could pull it off on the red carpet without looking tacky. However, the way she keeps it simple with the hair and accessories is perfect. The twist of the fabric at the waist makes the pattern more interesting and dynamic to look at when it might otherwise seem a bit static. While it wouldn't necessarily work for any occasion, during the right one I think it wins by an absolute runaway.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

I'm enjoying the greetings from GO & your fans worldwide soooooo much! Thank you everyone from New Jersey!

I've been meaning to make send note anyway. My business is fashion and I have to say that I admire the costume team and everyone who worked on GO 1 & 2 so very much! Just a couple of things about Crowley's amazing "angel disguise" from the official S2 trailer.

Just like Aziraphale and Crowley's clothing is pretty much opposite always, like the rest of the angels and demons, they aren't quite in step with the way humans dress either. Crowley's usual style is tailored and made of stiff fabric. Just about everything about his "disguise" is diametrically opposite his currant look. Soft, shiny fabric, loungewear. Gold tattoo, instead of a skinny silver mesh lariat, a wide gold mesh scarf. Swap snakeskin boots for rubber sandals. And the lenses on his heaven shades are PINK! To me, his walk appears different too. Long swift, straight strides, not as slithery. Fortunately, I think we can assume that Crowley makes it back safely as he seems to be returning with his signature smirk in that pic in front of the elevator.

And I want to share a speculation about S2 and how tis will bring us to the sequel that Terry and Neil had planned. We know they were intending to bring in more angels/demons, heaven/hell. And they seem to have been discussing the second coming of Christ. So perhaps the sequel would have had to do with the next war that Crowley prophesized, all of "us" against all of "them." So I propose that S2 will show our heroes making new allies. By the time Muriel accompanies Crowley to heaven, we can assume she is siding with A & C. So who from hell will aid them? Shax? Eric?

About Gabriel, I was hoping he would be the angel with amnesia but I thought that would be too exciting to be the way the official show would go! I'm still delirious with happiness over that development! Can't decide if he'll be an ally when his memories return though. And last speculation - S1 Michael's hair was slick, neat and "buttoned up." When we see her in S2, it appears to be undone or unraveled. So perhaps she's stressed over the Gabriel situation.

Thanks again for all of the joy your blog brings!

Hiya! :) Thank youu and for the analysis :) ❤. I can't wait to see S2 and find out everything! :)

[kopw]

hi ryan. blade and finish for the wrestling asks ^.^

blade: the bloodiest wrestling match you’ve ever watched?

drew parker vs ryuji ito ikkitousen deathmatch survivor 2021 finals!

the thing is, there are a few matches that involve blading in a more conventional sense that might have had flashier blood spots. kenny during fd2 looked like he got dunked in red goop at one point, but that still felt more... controlled? drew busts his upper back open in this match and starts gushing so bad they have to tape him up multiple times. which does not work because there's so much blood the tape doesn't stick to his skin. it's incredible

though i got recommended an abdullah kobayashi vs shuji ishikawa match recently, so this answer might change when i watch that... expecting lots of blood

finish: top 5 favorite finishing moves?

ushigoroshi (goto). when i learned that it's just part of cole's regular move set i got so unreasonably mad. i don't even dislike cole but... not for you. yoh can keep doing it though

one-winged angel (kenny) / syu-sekai (syuri). NOT the same move but they both involve an electric chair set-up which is one of my favorites

tour of the islands (cobb). SPECIFICALLY when he does a super tour of the islands... there's a mind-blowing one in his match against ospreay at the g1 supercard

rainmaker (okada). no further explanation needed. i do have to say that i don't like when people say jamie's hayterade is just a rainmaker. no it's not... they're both ripcord lariats but there's a difference. and the rainmaker is better. sorry women

stormbreaker (ospreay). funny how people on the indies copy ospreay's entire move set at times but don't even attempt this one. bonkers move

[himbos-hotline]

I wish you would write the conversation between Kenny and Hangman on Kenny's return.

If I said you could never touch me

Word count: 2287 words Ship: OTP: He could make me golden ["Hangman" Adam Page/Kenny Omega] Characters: Kenny Omega, "Hangman" Adam Page Triggers: Alcohol, Anxiety, Broken Glass, Unrequited love, Implied/Refrenced smut Authors note: Based on [I wish you would write a fic where…] Ask game. The idea wouldnt leave my head so here it is.

READ ON AO3

Failure. Adam knows the word well enough that he’s started to respond to it. In his own mind of course, late at night when it refuses to let him sleep. He tosses and turns in his empty hotel bed, letting the blankets wrap around his ankles like a spider web. He stares at the ceiling and lets the voice yell at him. “You’re nothing but a failure Adam.” The voice in his head whispers, the devil on his shoulder whispering so sweetly into his ear it feels like a lullaby. The devil kisses at the lobe of his ear, the nape of his neck and somewhere in the euphoria, Adam lets his eyes close. 

“I know.” He whispers back, letting darkness swirl behind his eyelids and like a drowning man. He takes a last death rattle of a breath as sleep wraps its hand around his throat. He awakens in a daze and for the first few moments, where he doesn't have to think, Adam almost remembers his name. He remembers how it sounded on Kenny’s early morning whispers and late night moans. And then the sun kisses his bare thighs and he’s shocked back into his own body. It's morning and Kenny isn't there to be the Devil on his shoulder, the angel in his memories. He’s somewhere off in Japan connected to a brightly coloured IV bag or connected to a brightly coloured man who held his heart like it was a precious gemstone. 

Adam rolls over in the blankets, buries his nose deep into the itchy hotel pillow cases and wonders just how long he can lay in bed until the Dark Order starts to worry. He loves them all, it's clear that he does. They’re softer. Kinder. They sit Adam down and Uno presses his hand gently into the curve of his shoulder and tells him about his problems. John pulls at his jacket, wrapping it tighter around Adam's frame, keeping him warm. And Adam appreciates it. But sometimes. Sometimes he wants to pretend that failure isn’t a part of him, not the part that his friends see. Not the part that people see when they look at him for just a fragment too long. 

He wishes he could bury his failure so deep inside his own soul that he almost forgets it exists. It festers and poisons his bloodstream until Adam’s entire being is a badly hidden collection of failed relationships that people look at and coo over like there's something glorious in his figure. 

He wishes that he didn’t reply to the word failure like it was his name. He’s sitting alone in the Dark Orders locker room, alone with a half-empty bottle of whiskey as company. There’s a singular glow of the ceiling above him and Adam follows the pattern of the shadows as he raises the glass to his lips and tips the burning liquor down his throat. It’s an ache that Adam has grown familiar with too, like a hug from a loved one. It scalds his tongue like a scorned lover's kiss and there’s something so familiar about him licking sin off his bottom lip. The door is half open and Adam listens to the distant sounds of the ring crew packing away. 

They’re stripping the mat off the ring canvas and with that, they strip away Adam’s failure. A misplaced Buckshot Lariat and he had cost the dark order everything. Everything that the dark order had worked up too, lost in three seconds and the cold spray smoke. The neck of the bottle knocks against the glass and Adam sighs, exhales invisible smoke and soon there's someone's hand resting on his shoulder. Heavy and calloused and fearfully familiar. 

The fallen angel on his shoulder, pressing down on the nerve that makes hair pull up on his neck and a blush build against the skin of his chest. He settles his eyes on the floor, watching the way his shadow looks on the floor. His darkened frame feels almost easier to look at. Because Kenny's shadow doesn’t have his blue eyes that are digging their way into the back of Adam’s neck or the desperate half smile that Adam can practically feel. It’s just dark shapes that the doggy euphoria of drunkenness can mutate into whatever Adam’s mind wants. He raises the glass to his lips. 

“What?” He asks the shadow on the floor, letting the word tumble into the amber liquid. 

There’s a sigh behind him, heavy and worn down. “I missed you.” 

Adam presses his lips together into a thin line, knocking the glass against his cupid's bow. Kenny’s hands marriage against his shoulders, thumbs working the pain deep from the marrow of Adam’s bones. Strong hands try to fix this broken man back together, it feels like water is falling from Adam’s shoulders, tracing the links of his spine and fogging up his brain. Kenny is molding him, manipulating him until Adam is something small and placid in his hands. Something burns deep in Adam’s stomach and his eyes flutter open. His spine straightens, clicking as each vertebrae slots together. The glass feels heavy in his hand all of a sudden, his white knuckled grip on it making his fingers feel numb. 

Adam downs the rest of the bitter amber liquid, lets it scald its way down his throat and places the glass onto the arm of the couch. There’s a crash distant and foggy just outside the perimeter of Adam’s brain. The ring crew are finishing up; tossing weapons and empty water bottles into large bins for collection or sorting. They have an hour. 

An hour to collect and find all the words that the two of them want to say. An hour that could end with Adam following Kenny back to his room, half-drunk and submissive under his strong hands. An hour that could end with Adam alone, watching his tears mix with the last of the whiskey that stays at the bottom of his glass. 

An hour. Sixty painfully long minutes for Adam to finally tap into the pain. To finally allow failure to stop being his name, to have failure be his anger. The familiar taste of pennies is on his tongue, copper and state blood and rusted gold. Kenny always comes down to gold; gold-tipped fingers, golden rings around his pupils, a perfect golden band around his heart, branding him to another lover. Adam always comes down to silver; the second best option for a last place man. He licks at his bottom lip and pushes himself off the couch, Kenny’s hands limp as they fall to grip at the back of the couch. 

“Don’t touch me.” Adam’s voice doesn't wobble like his stomach does. There's a flame of anger biting at the corner of his mind, making his skin feel tight and his stomach feel knotted. Kenny’s eyebrow quirks upwards and his lips flash into a small smile. He’s still wearing his shoulder sling under his shirt, the hem sagging slightly around the base of his throat. He looks tired, but happy. He smiles when Adam finally settles his eyes back on him and Kenny reaches out, taking Adam’s face in his hand. 

“Yeah?” He hums, voice barely above a mocking whisper and Adam balls a hand at his side into a fist. Some small part of his mind, lost and mournful, tells him to lean into Kneny’s calloused palm but he doesn’t, Adam squares his jaw, presses his teeth together so hard that he’s sure tomorrow his jaw will hurt. “Haven’t you missed me cowboy?” 

“No.” Adam lies through his teeth, his tongue feels heavy in his mouth but the fury of the last three years is rearing its ugly head like a sleepy dragon made of brown spilt blood and former love. “No.” He repeats. “I told you to stop touching me.” His voice is colder now, growing with the increasing pressure. 

There’s not enough air in the room and Adam gasps when Kenny finally pulls his hand away, tucking them into the pockets of his shorts. “Jealous we beat you and your little spooky cult friends hmm”? Kenny’s voice is bordering on patronizing and Adam wants to hit him. His fists tighten, ring-worn nails pressing deeper into the fleshy parts of his palms. “Get it together Hanger, I’m not here for the sad, lonely cowboy act.” 

“Why are you here then?” Adam stupidly asks. 

Kenny scoops the glass up in his hand, rolling it between his fingers. “For you.” 

The words hit Adam like a swift kick to the gut. His heart stutters and for a few seconds he blinks at Kenny as he sways on his feet, wandering around Adam;’s eyeline like a bee buzzing around a wilting flower. The fire dampers quickly and when Kenny lifts the bottle up towards the light, Adam spots that it’s half empty. The brown liquid coming up to kiss at Kenny’s fingertips like sea foam kissing a suicidal mans ankles as he walks into the sea. Kenny clicks his tongue against his teeth and lets the bottle scrape across the wooden coffee table. “That took the wind outta your sails huh?” and he giggles, soft and high-pitched as if he’s told a joke. 

Maybe Kenny had just made a joke. “I am here for you though Hanger.” He’s looking at him from under his eyelashes, the blue of Kenny's eyes burning brighter in the dimness of the locker room. “I thought we could celebrate me winning.” Kenny’s fingers tap against the belt, the sound bouncing off the walls. It’s the first time Adam’s registers that Keny’s wearing the trio's title and now, like someone pointing out a pimple, it’s all Adam can keep staring at. His face reflects back off the golden plates and he watches his face grow larger, bigger as Kenny steps closer and wraps a hand into his hair. “Remember just like when we won the tag titles.” Kenny’s fingers yank at his hair, pulling Adam forward into a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. It's not pretty and Adam definitely doesn’t want to taste the secondhand victory off Kenny’s mouth. 

“Ya mean like when I won the tag titles” Adam bites back, pressing his fists into the middle of Kenny’s chest. He pushes with the strength of a man possessed and Kenny tumbles backwards, his feet tumble out from under him and he lands a pile on the floor, curls escaping around his face. “You did nothing that match!” Adam snaps, his lips raw and heart exposed. There’s pressure building behind his nose, pressing at the space under his eyes and Adam presses the curve of his knuckle against his skin, feeling it tacky and warm with alcohol and sweat. His scalp is tingling like a burn. 

Kenny always burns him. Never bad enough to leave visible scars, but enough that Adam has to develop a thicker skin. “I did everything to carry our tag team!” Kenny retorts. He’s not yelling but the words speak so loud that they make Adam’s ears hurt. He nods down to the half-empty bottle of whiskey and places the glass back into Adam’s hand. His fingers close around the crystalised texture, the pad of his thumb pressing into the sharp little points and Adam feels lost in his anger. 

“You always loved that more than us.” Kenny tells him. He twists open the lid and presses the mouth of the bottle against the glass. Adam watches him pour a glass, watches Kenny empty the bottle until whiskey is spilling over Adam’s fingers. Yet, Adam doesn’t let go. A part of his mind tells him to cling to the glass, listen to the dripping of whiskey onto his shoes. “Does it make you happy?” 

“I- '' Adam starts, alcohol is starting to poison his bloodstream, making it harder for him to think. The pressure just behind his eyes is burning now, overflowing. He feels a shaking building in his stomach and when his brain focuses back on the world around him, Adam can hear his heart pounding in his chest, ricocheting off his ribs like a stray bullet. “Sometimes.” He admits. Kenny nods, hand gesturing for Adam to drink up. But he doesn’t. His fingers release the sticky glass. 

It shatters between the two men. Broken glass splays everywhere and whiskey soaks into the Dark Order’s carpet. Kenny looks down at the floor and then back up at Adam. “my turn.” Adam quips, as if the two of them were playing twenty questions. 

“What Page?” Kenny snaps, fingers tapping against the golden plates of the title. It’s clear that he’s growing agitated, frustrated that Adam isn’t giving him what he wants. Kenny barely represses the urge to roll his eyes when Adam fixes his hair into a ponytail and takes a step back. He’s just out of arm's reach and by the line of water building in his green eyes, Adam wants to keep it that way. “Well. spit it out.” 

Adam represses the urge to laugh. Kenny has never once asked him to spit it out. He would always rub the hollow of Adam’s cheeks, coo-ing at him ever so sweetly to swallow every last drop of him. “Did you ever love me?” Adam asks, holding onto the arm of the couch. Kenny blinks at him. Once. Twice before he looks at the clock on the wall. 

Five minutes. Kenny takes another step back, hand resting on the door handle. He lets it click open. He stands on the threshold, looks at Adam in all his sullen, alcoholic Cowboy energy and for once, he tells him the truth. 

“Once.” 

The door clicks closed. 

Adam is alone again.

Taglist: @allelitesmut @homoeroticgrappling @dustinslovehandles @paradoxunknown @katries @mrsmatt @echoxshxrx @malewifemoxley @kass-the-kitten @itsnoosetome @racerchix21 @jacedoe @chuckstaylors @old-no7 @thekadster @mandiableclaw @tahiri-veyla

[cheesybadgers]

(GO TO PART 1 AND PART 3)

PART 2

60. In chapter 23, it’s finally revealed that Javier now works for a charity on the Texas-Mexico border. This idea has been in my head for over a year, as can be seen from the below notes I made to myself in February/March 2023:

Strangely, I then read Infinite Country by Patricia Engel (referred to above at point 50) in early May 2023, which contains the following passage:

So, that made me even more determined to go down this path with Javier ❤️

I won’t list all of the different charities/not-for-profits/NGOs I researched, but there are some mentioned here plus Border Angels and Al Otro Lado. Not all of them are Texas-based, but they do operate somewhere along or near the US-Mexican border, so I used a mix of them as inspiration.

61. Horacio’s route to getting a visa and green card in chapter 23 was largely based on the real-world EB5 visa. Although, I may have taken slight liberties for the purposes of the story (it was hard to see any other real life route for Horacio to actually be granted a long term visa/green card to be honest…which is apt for other themes of this chapter), so it’s not 100% accurate to real life lol.

62. There are several references in chapter 23 to America’s sodomy laws that were still in place in some states, including Texas, by 1997 (when chapter 23 is set), but it wasn’t until the landmark Supreme Court case of Lawrence vs Texas in 2003 that it was ruled sodomy laws in Texas and various other states were unconstitutional.

For further reading on the queer rights movement (and the violence and harassment queer Texans faced) that paved the way for Lawrence vs Texas, I highly recommend Before Lawrence v. Texas: The Making of a Queer Social Movement by Wesley G Phelps

63. If you wondered what a lariat was in chapter 23, it’s the rope cowboys use to lasso (‘lasso’ is actually the verb, whereas the rope itself is called a ‘lariat’, which comes from the Spanish word la reata, meaning to catch or fasten).

There’s also a reference to a quirt, which is a short leather whip used by cowboys to encourage their horse to go faster.

64. As for the sex scene in chapter 23…eagle-eyed readers may have spotted the foreshadowing for this in chapter 20 😉 A long while before I even wrote chapter 20, I’d had Horacio wearing a harness in my head (these are things that live in my brain rent free, apparently lol), largely influenced by this Tumblr post mixed with this one and this one and the gay leather movement. Speaking of which…the references to Drummer relate to a real gay leather magazine that exists in the US.

I made up the part about the harness instructions and a cowboy/rodeo special, however, there is a website with scans of old issues…and lo and behold, there was a cowboy special (WARNING FOR HIGHLY NSFT/W CONTENT).

There’s also a fascinating interview here with ‘Cowboy Frank’ who created the above archive of gay magazines as a tribute to his late husband.

65. Keeping on the theme of gay cowboys…gay rodeo is a real thing in Texas. You can read more about it here, here, here, here and there are some photographs here too.

I also have Slapping Leather: Queer Cowfolx at the Gay Rodeo by Elyssa Ford and Rebecca Scofield and Rodeo as Refuge, Rodeo as Rebellion: Gender, Race, and Identity in the American Rodeo by Elyssa Ford to read at some point (unfortunately, I didn’t get chance to read them before posting chapter 23), which look really interesting.

I couldn’t in a million years see Horacio (or Javier for that matter) taking part lol, but I wanted to at least mention its existence in chapter 23.

66. I’ve mentioned Día de Muertos above already, but here’s more about what the different items on an ofrenda represent and also a breakdown of what happens on each day of the festival.

67. La Virgen de Guadalupe, La Llorona and La Malinche are all referenced in chapter 23.

I initially got the inspiration to include the Guadalupe prayer card from these promo images of Javier. But it wasn't until I started doing more research, I discovered her links to La Llorona and La Malinche. Their identities throughout Mexican history change depending on who is telling the story (which is why Chucho lists various different names) and La Virgen de Guadalupe in particular symbolises the shift Mexico underwent after the Spanish colonisers arrived (from the religion of the Aztecs to Catholicism).

This is a strong theme in Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza by Gloria Anzaldúa and this book was a big inspiration for the conversation between Javier and Chucho about their Mexican roots.

I also found an interesting article dissecting the trio as different archetypes of women (in fact, it quotes Gloria Anzaldúa as well).

Some other related pieces about La Virgen de Guadalupe and how she relates to Mexican/Chicano identity:

Tonantzin Tlalli Coatlicue & Our Lady of Guadalupe

Commentary: The representations of La Virgen de Guadalupe show her power over identity

Celebrating Guadalupe, Sacred Icon of the People

I may have gone a bit overboard with this part of my research lol, but it was so fascinating to me, I just kept falling down different rabbit holes. And I’ve always liked the idea of Javier being caught between two worlds – in the show, and in the OHDH universe. So, this all served chapter 23 well with Javier returning to Laredo and trying to connect the different parts of his identity.

68. Operation Gatekeeper and Operation Hold the Line are referenced in chapter 23. These were two anti-immigration initiatives in the early ‘90s which involved the militarisation of the US-Mexican border with an increase in Border Patrol staff, the introduction of checkpoints and the building of physical walls.

69. Javier references new immigration legislation in chapter 23. ‘IIRIRA’ is the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act 1996, which came into effect on 1st April 1997.

It was yet more harsh anti-immigration measures that widened the remit for people to be removed, deported and banned from the US. Here’s an article about the problems the legislation caused.

Ironically, whilst America was doing everything it could to keep people from crossing the border, the passing of NAFTA in 1994 actually made drug trafficking across the border easier and exacerbated cartel-related violence in Mexico.

Whilst on the subject of US immigration, there is also a reference to the ‘INS’ in chapter 23, which was the predecessor to ‘ICE’ (ICE was formed in 2003, so it would still have been INS in 1997).

70. Towards the end of chapter 23, when Javier and Horacio are snuggled under a mesquite tree and talk about a story they read in The New Yorker, it was, of course, Brokeback Mountain by Annie Proulx, which was first published in TNY as a short story on 6th October 1997.

I had to fit a reference to it in this fic somewhere lol. Although, for as much as that story influenced OHDH in places, I like to think Javier’s and Horacio’s ending is the antithesis to the ending of Brokeback Mountain ❤️

71. At the end of chapter 23, various artists are mentioned as appearing on their bookshelves. I’ve picked out either titles of significance or reasons for why they’re referenced:

Our Lady of the Assassins (La Virgen de los sicarios) by Fernando Vallejo (A gay Medellín-born author writing semi-autobiographically about a gay man living in Medellín during the worst years of violence…I don’t think I need to explain further why this is on the list lol)

Maurice by E.M. Forster and also the film adaptation (A gay romance with a relatively happy ending for a change)

City of Night by John Rechy (Follows a gay Texan man’s journey and sexual encounters across America)

Gloria E. Anzaldúa (See point 67 above)

Alejo Durán (Colombian Vallenato musician – and cowboy)

Long, Long Time by Linda Ronstadt (If you’ve seen The Last of Us, you’ll know why I chose this. If you haven’t seen it, please make a point of watching season 1, episode 3 as it’s one of the most beautiful queer love stories I’ve ever witnessed 😭)

Drag by K.D. Lang (A covers album by a lesbian musician of songs centred around smoking…again, I don’t think I need to explain any further lol)

Para Siempre by Vicente Fernández (A Mexican ranchera singer…just look at the lyrics for Para Siempre and sigh longingly)

Preface to Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman (Specifically for this quote, because I stumbled across it by accident and it fit so many themes of the fic:

“Past and present and future are not disjoined but joined. The greatest poet forms the consistence of what is to be from what has been and is. He drags the dead out of their coffins and stands them again on their feet….he says to the past, Rise and walk before me that I may realize you. He learns the lesson….he places himself where the future becomes present.”)

Pedro Almodóvar (A Spanish gay film director I’ve mentioned above somewhere before…and also coincidentally worked with Pedro Pascal in Strange Way of Life)

The Living End written and directed by Gregg Araki (Just a couple of gay HIV Positive guys on a road trip)

72. The end scene of them dancing together was largely inspired by two things:

This gorgeous, gorgeous piece of artwork (artist at the link).

And this scene in Fellow Travelers.

I had originally intended to end chapter 23 like the artwork, but after watching Fellow Travelers in December 2023, I had to write my own nod to possibly one of the most intimate scenes I’ve ever seen committed to camera. I swear it re-wired my brain chemistry.

And it’s funny, because I hadn’t actually read or even heard of Fellow Travelers by Thomas Mallon when starting OHDH, but there are so many delightful parallels (e.g. Tim and his cross necklace/religious guilt and the Dom/sub undertones, all of their dancing, the switching in power dynamics during sex as a way to show vulnerability…I just couldn’t help but imagine Horacio/Javier in all the Hawk/Tim sex scenes).

73. A few other books/articles I read for chapter 23 research that I haven’t mentioned already:

Farm Boys: Lives of Gay Men from the Rural Midwest by Will Fellows

The Distance Between Us by Reyna Grande

Retablos: Stories From a Life Lived Along the Border by Octavio Solis

Where We Come From by Oscar Cásares

Brownsville: Stories by Oscar Cásares

Beyond Smoke and Mirrors: Mexican Immigration in an Era of Economic Integration by Douglas S. Massey, Jorge Durand and Nolan J. Malone

In the Valley of Mirrors by Antonio Ruiz-Camacho

Out West, the Gay Cowboy Roams Free by Evan Moffitt (New York Times article transcribed on my Tumblr)

[kemetic-dreams]

Nat Love (sometimes spelled Nate Love) (pronounced "Nate", rhymes with "late") (June 1854 – 1921) was an Americancowboy and former slave in the period following the American Civil War. His exploits have made him one of the most famous heroes of the Old West.

Love was born into slavery on the plantation of Robert Love in Davidson County, Tennessee in June 1854.His father was a foreman enslaved on the plantation's fields, and his mother the manager of its kitchen. Love had two siblings: an older sister, Sally, and an older brother, Jordan. Despite slavery-era statutes that outlawed black literacy, he learned to read and write as a child with the help of his father, Sampson. When slavery ended, Love's parents stayed on the Love plantation as sharecroppers, attempting to raise tobacco and corn on about 20 acres, but Sampson died shortly after the second crop was planted. Afterward, Nat took a second job working on a local farm to help make ends meet. At about this time, he was noted as having a gift for breaking horses. After some time of working extra odd jobs in the area, he won a horse in a raffle on two occasions, which he then sold back to the owner for $50 each time. He used the money to leave town and, at the age of 16, headed West

Love traveled to Dodge City, Kansas, where he found work as a cowboy with cattle drivers from the Duval Ranch (located on the Palo Duro River in the Texas Panhandle).According to his autobiography, Love fought cattle rustlers and endured inclement weather. He trained himself to become an expert marksman and cowboy, for which he earned from his co-workers the moniker "Red River Dick." In 1872, Love moved to Arizona, where he found work at the Gallinger Ranch located along the Gila River. He wrote in his autobiography that while working the cattle drives in Arizona he met Pat Garrett, Bat Masterson, Billy the Kid, and others

"Deadwood Dick"

After driving a herd of cattle to the rail head in Deadwood, Dakota Territory, he entered a rodeo on the 4th of July in 1876, enticed by the $200 prize money. He won the rope, throw, tie, bridle, saddle, and bronco riding contests. It was at this rodeo that he claims friends and fans gave him the nickname "Deadwood Dick," a reference to a literary character created by Edward Lytton Wheeler, a dime novelist of the day.

Capture and escape

Mounted on my horse my ... lariat near my hand, and my trusty guns in my belt ... I felt like I could defy the world.

In October 1877, Nat Love writes that he was captured by a band of Pima Indians while rounding up stray cattle near the Gila River in Arizona. Although he claimed to have received over 14 bullet wounds in his career (with 'several' received in his fight with the Native Americans while trying to avoid capture), Love wrote that his life was spared because the Indians respected his heritage, a large portion of the band themselves being of mixed blood. He almost married the chief's daughter.The band of Native Americans nursed him back to health, wishing to adopt him into the tribe. Eventually, Love writes, he stole a pony and escaped into West Texas.

Life after being a cowboy

Love decided he needed to leave the cowboy life. He married a woman named Alice in 1889 and settled down, initially in Denver, taking a job in 1890 as a Pullman porter, which involved overseeing sleeping cars on the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad. While working for the railroad, he and his family resided in several western states, before finally moving to southern California.

In 1907, Love published his autobiography entitled Life and Adventures of Nat Love, Better Known in the Cattle Country as 'Deadwood Dick,' by Himself, which greatly enhanced his legacy. Love spent the latter part of his life as a courier and guard for a Los Angeles securities company. He died there in 1921, at the age of 67

[just-wublrful]

and they were roommates

Bluets, Maggie Nelson | Baked Goods, Aimee Nezhukumatathil | Dear Eros, Traci Brimhall | nights like these, pigeon pit | Game Shows Touch Our Lives, The Mountain Goats | Its Not Like Nikola Tesla Knew All of Those People Were Going to Die, Hanif Abdurraqib | If I Should Come Upon Your House Lonely in the West Texas Desert, Natalie Diaz | I Will, Mitski | Object Permanence, Nicole Sealy | Sharon Olds | Six Poems for Tamar, Yehuda Amichai | Seventh Circle of Earth, Ocean Vuong | The Dream of Death, or the Site of the Poetical Bodies, trans. Yvette Siegert, Alejandra Pizarnik

( @lasilhouetteinbianco grimacing emoji)

[Image Description: an assortment of lyrics and quotes from various sources.

1. Eventually you will have to give up this love, she told me one night while I made us dinner. It has a morbid heart.

2. I want our summers/ to always be like this - a kitchen wrecked/ with love, a table overflowing with baked goods/ warming the already warm air. After all the/ pots are stacked, the goodies cooled, and all the counters/ wiped clean - never let us be rescued from this/ mess.

3. with laughs as dark as our halos. I wished Always/ but the dandelion seeds were stubborn, everything ripe/ refused my mouth. When I said Come home, it was a lie, /but I believed it. For a year I was light shaking on/ the surface of the/ water, a fire softening into a flood,/ and once his hand around my arm like a snake circling/ a branch in Eden. Not all secrets are shames, and this one/ isn’t either. It’s the pale green of healing. It’s my lips/ opening like parentheses and his name inside, it’s turning/ back from the wrong north, the moon like a slice of raw/ onion, my skin weeping like a fever, closing the question/ with my hand around my other arm so I’ll match, so I’ll burn.

4. And I stayed up, chain smoking in the kitchen/ Until you got home and the curtains were on fire/ Fuck, I’m sorry you feel all alone

5. Maybe everything that falls down eventually rises/ our house sinking into disrepair

6. Enough with the foolishness of hope and how it bruises/ the walls of a home where two people sit, stubbornly in love/ with the idea of staying. If one must pray, I imagine/ it is most worthwhile to pray towards endings.

7. If you say to me, This is not your new house/ but I am your new home,/ I will enter the door of your throat,/ hang my last lariat in the hallway,

8. And all the quiet nights you bear/ Seal them up with care/ No one needs to know they're there/ For I will hold them for you/ 'Cause all I ever wanted is here/ All I ever wanted/ All I want is/ Always you

9. We wake as if surprised the other is still there,/ each petting the sheet to be sure

10. The house seems/ to circle around you/ slowly. I circle around you, a wild/ animal near a fire. I remember/ I would kill for you. I remind myself/ it won’t be necessary.

11. The rain is speaking quietly,/ you can sleep now./ Near my bed, the rustle of newspaper wings./ There are no other angels./ I’ll wake up early and bribe the coming day/ to be kind to us.

12. As if my finger, / tracing your collarbone / behind closed doors, / was enough / to erase myself. To forget / we built this house without knowing / it won’t last. How/ does anyone stop / regret / without cutting / off his hands?

13. And I would wander across all/ the deserts of this world, even after death, to/ search for you - you who were the place/ of love. End ID.]

[anyathefandom]

To Those Fortunate Enough chapter 38:

@burned-lariat

**Note** listen if you see me being extra thirsty about Wallace in this chapter mind your business!!!!😂

"Mr. Corinthos, you have a visitor."

Sonny blinked at the nurse as she stepped back, Wallace walking into her spot. A wicked smirk was on his face, and if Sonny could, he'd put a bullet between the man's eyebrows.

Me: This man hasn't even said anything yet and I'm already laughing. I just know he's about to be trouble.😂

"Sonny," Wallace greeted.

"I know what you did."

"I've done a lot of things. I murdered a bloodthirsty psychopath, I reunited my family-"

"You set my warehouse, my coffee stock, my livelihood, on fire."

"Oh yeah, I did that too," Wallace stepped closer, pulling up a stool, "not to mention what happened afterward. I hope Michael's doing well."

Me:

"You are one sick bastard."

"Everyone loves calling me that."

"There's a reason why."

"I know; I embrace it. I'm a criminal, I'm a scumbag, I'm not fit to walk the Earth, I've heard it all before. Doesn't bother me."

Me: And that's why I love him. He's so unapologetic about who he is.🤌

"You know," Sonny cleared his throat, "you've got a lot of nerve showing up to my room like this."

"So? What are you going to do, shoot me? You're going to have a goon shoot me? I'm pretty sure your head guy is out of commission thanks to me, of course."

Me: You know what Wallace must of had a glass of:

"Do you enjoy being a smug son of a bitch?"

"I do. In fact, when it comes to filth like you, I relish in it. It's always fun to knock grandstanding jackasses down a few pegs."

Me: He's such an ass....and I love it

"That doesn't make you better than me."

"Who said I'm better than you?" Wallace scoffed, "Sonny, we're mobsters. Morality and good nature isn't our thing."

"There can be some nobility in it."

"What?" Wallace's laugh was airy, "Nobility, morality, in a criminal job? Where is this coming from?"

Me: Oh Wallace you didn't know??? Sonny is the mobster with a heart of gold.💛🥴

"You don't know me, Heller. I've been through things that deeply, deeply change a man."

"So have I."

"How? You came from nothing; you have no past. All that you have to your name is a battered, broken child and a flimsy criminal enterprise. No support, no affection, no angel on your shoulder."

Me: Sonny. Sonny Michael corinthos. Sir you used to be a battered child as well my guy, so you would think you wouldn't throw that in his face.😬

"And what do you have?" Wallace tapped his chin, "Oh, right. You have no cover, a collapsing enterprise, and a divided family. Lest we forget how Michael was dumb enough to allow my son and I to infiltrate your business."

"And you have an amazing relationship with your son?"

Wallace bit the inside of his lip. Sonny raised his eyebrows in response.

"Oh," he grinned, "I see."

Me: Sonny y'all are in the same boat now with your sons so you can't be petty about that.😂

Sonny's glare intensified, "Well, you must be proud of how screwed up your son is. Gleefully working for the mob and getting swept up in Victor…I mean, his grandfather's schemes. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

Me: Sonny your son's dick has probably killed more people than Dex has.🤷

"Dex is nothing like that man. Nothing."

"His mother is a Cassadine. He's as every bit demented as they are."

"You know nothing."

"And considering who his mother is related, I'm willing to bet she's just as bad."

"Shut your trap, you worthless swine," Wallace got in Sonny's face, "or so help me God, I will tear apart more than just your hamstring."

Sonny blinked in response, his mouth closed. Wallace pulled back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to compose himself.

Me: Oh we love to see sonny realizing that Wallace is willing to beat his ass over his family. Like Wallace Heller the man you are.😌

Sonny sent the man a death glare, "...You have no idea what you've done."

"No, I'm perfectly aware," Wallace got to his feet, "I torched all your coffee beans, trapped you, your goon, and your dumb son in the inferno, and shot to injure."

"My family's lives are at stake and it's all your fault!"

"And?" Wallace shrugged, "All's fair in a mob war. It's all about power and growth, and how do you take that for yourself? You steal it from someone else."

"My territory is not for you to take."

"Too late," Wallace started walking towards the door, "You're losing more ground as we speak, and you have Michael to thank for it. Congrats to him, I suppose. He got what he wanted in your downfall…even if it means he and the rest of your family suffers in the end."

"This isn't the end of me," Sonny snapped, "Once I'm healed, my wrath will come back at you tenfold."

"And whenever that day comes, I'll be ready," Wallace stood in the doorway, turning back one last time, "Watch your back, Corinthos. Things are just getting started between us."

Me:

The rage in his veins was hot.

"What are you doing here?" Michael snapped, glaring at the man in the doorway. Dex stuffed his hands in his front pockets before walking inside.

"I saw you in the window," he replied, "thought I'd pay you a visit."

The Mex shipper in me:

"I can't believe you'd do this to me."

Dex raised an eyebrow at the man. There was a strong frown on Michael's face, disappointment in his features.

"I trusted you," the man said, "You came to me as someone willing to take down a threat to innocent lives, someone who was eager to right a wrong."

"How else were you going to let me in? All you cared about was taking your dad down. Him being a mobster was the selling point."

"I can't believe you. You didn't care about justice o-or doing something good, you cared about making your dad happy

Me: And you cared about making your dad miserable like be fucking fr Michael.🥴

I did what he asked of me because I was working for him. It's what you do when you have a job."

"Get out," Michael pointed at the door, "You're done here."

"Oh, come on, Michael," Dex shook his head, stepping closer to the bed, "I know you well enough to know that you don't want me to go."

The Mex shipper in me:

Oh, come on, Michael," Dex shook his head, stepping closer to the bed, "I know you well enough to know that you don't want me to go."

"I do-"

"C'mon," Dex took a seat on a nearby stool, "tell me how you're really feeling. Don't hold back."

"You betrayed me," Michael began, venom in his tone, "I brought you in, I gave you an incredibly important task, I put my faith in you. You made me believe you could take my dad down-"

"Which I did."

"Yeah, you did, at the expense of my whole family. All my siblings and cousins, everyone tied to Sonny, is now open season for his enemies."

Me: So what did Michael think was going to happen when they lock sonny up?😂

"I'm sorry-"

"Shut up. You're not sorry."

"I'm sorry your family is going to suffer because of your actions."

Me:

The moments where I screamed:

"Do you hear yourself?" Dex raised both eyebrows, shooting Michael a look, "Truly, Michael. Are you listening to the words coming out of your mouth?"

"And how correct they are? Yeah, I am."

"No, not even close. Not even close! Michael, I didn't just randomly come around asking for a job. You openly searched for someone to do your dirty work and happened to choose me. You're the one who orchestrated all of this; it's not my fault you couldn't look past your own hubris and pettiness."

"Oh, come on, Michael," Dex rolled his eyes, "How hard are you going to push this? Take some responsibility here."

"Why? You're not."

"I did what you told me to do. You're the ringleader here; whatever happens to your family is because you wanted their one safety net to burn."

"That's not it-"

"That's exactly it. You're going to be the one with blood on your hands here. You couldn't accept that your parents split up, you cared more about your hurt feelings than the welfare of your family, this is all on you."

"No," Michael shook his head, "it's not-"

"It absolutely is," Dex's voice was cold and stern, "You were so caught up in this…revenge fantasy against your dad that it blinded you to everything else. You didn't think once about your family, you just thought about you. And now that your scheme has fallen apart, you need someone to blame because you don't want to admit this is all your fault."

"Sonny deserves to lose everything!"

"And so do you!".

I hate you," Michael growled, "All this trust and faith I had in you and you just…stomped on it. You're just as scummy and foul as your criminal father."

Dex got to his feet, his eyes sharp with a glare. Michael gulped at the sight.

"And you're as scummy and foul as yours," he said, "At least I can live with that comparison."

"Get. Out."

"Gladly."

Dex turned away, walking towards the door. Michael's nostrils flared for a moment before he felt himself slightly relax.

"Dex," he called out, "Wait."

"What?" he turned around.

Michael's voice was deep and clear: "You ruined my life."

Dex pursed his lips, shrugging, "You ruined your own life. Have fun sleeping at night."

Michael opened his mouth to respond, but Dex turned the corner before he got a chance. The man laid back in his bed, considering his next move. On impulse, he grabbed a nearby plastic cup and chucked it at the window. He did the same with a larger plastic tub, breaking down into tears. His emotions were scattered, a mix of anger and heartbreak and agony sitting on him. Part of him wanted to chase after Dex and escalate things, part of him wanted to scream, but in the moment, most of him felt dread of what was to come, a fear of the unknown that was expanding until it swallowed him whole.

Me: This whole scene legit read like a messy break up. The way they have way more angst (and passion if we're going to be real and messy 😂) than Jex has is astounding.

Sidenote: This has to be my 2nd favorite chapter. I was LIVING!!!!

[drrubinspomade]

#lariat

WELL, YEAH

We post pinups daily! If you dig this pic we’ve found  online, u should investigate the creator/subjects of the above work and fan them, follow them, hire them.

If you’d like us to remove, or you know who made this so that we can credit, DM. Thanks. Greetings from Los Angeles.

DrRubinsPomade.com

[of-twilight-and-moonshadow]

What Love Is - Hangman x Emery

Part of my Dark Angel of the Bullet Club series

Word Count: 2527

Based On: Dynamite April 5th 2023

Warnings: mentions of blood, physical violence

Tag List: @blxxckheart @summertimefun1982 (If you want to be added to my tag lists let me know. I have 3 for the separate companies - NJPW, AEW and WWE)

(border by)

Emery stood backstage, her arms wrapped around her abdomen in an attempt to comfort herself. For the first time since AEW began, she was alone.

No Bucks. No Kenny.

She’d always had them beside her, almost since the beginning of her career. Now? Blackpool Combat Club had effectively removed all three from the equation.

As she stood off to the side, her brown eyes stared a hole into the wall across from her. It took everything in her power not to seek out the one person she had left.

Hangman.

She’d known him as long as she had the Bucks. At one point, they had been extremely close, thick as thieves. However, after everything fell apart when Hangman and Kenny lost their tag team championships and Kenny went heel—Emery felt the distance between her and Hangman grow. It grew and grew until he was completely absent from her life.

And it killed her inside.

Especially when he’d be at odds with Kenny and the Bucks. She’d secretly cheer for him, be behind him when good things would happen, wins in his career, especially when he won the AEW World Championship. Though it was a happy moment—it also was a sad one, as he had beat Kenny for it.

She had been ringside, right there with the Bucks. Emery had seen each brother give Hangman a nod before he delivered buckshot lariats for the win.

After that, she thought that maybe—just maybe—things would mend between all of them. That was not the case, however. They’d remain distant and at odds, coming to a head again in the tournament for the Trios Championships.

That was, what—seven months ago? Eight? Emery had hoped things would mend after that, eventually, but nothing happened. It took everything in her not to reach out, text Hangman, or call him. Especially now, with everything going on.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Emery heard the familiar music of the BCC blare through the arena, signaling they had won their match. Taking a deep breath, she dropped her head and stared at the floor, willing the tears not to fall from her eyes.

It seemed like everyone had someone backstage—except for her.

“You see, I was at home with my family. And I love my family.” Emery heard Bryan Danielson’s voice ring out, as he apparently had taken a microphone.

“You know who else I love? I love Jon Moxley—and him ripping at people’s mouths! You know who else I love? Claudio Castagnoli and him destroying people. You know who else I love? Wheeler Yuta! Even if he’s a little shithead! I love him.”

“Yuta…” Emery thought sadly. They had been friends at one point, but that seems so long ago at this moment.

“And you know what else I love? I love. Professional. Wrestling. Do these guys look like professionals to you? They look like some people the EVPS might have hired, and their nothing—”

Emery looked up from the wall at the mention of the EVPs, her eyes narrowing slightly. Pushing up off the wall, she walked over to a nearby monitor and watched.

“—Impotent amateurs. And as I look around this building tonight, I think the four of us; I think we’re the only—”

Emery heard the fast-paced feet of someone behind her, and as she glanced, her stomach done flip flops. Hangman sped past her without a glance as he approached the ring. He had on one of her favorite jackets- the black leather with the tassels; pair that with the dark wash jeans and the brown cowboy boots—he looked every bit her cowboy that she remembered.

With a soft smile, Emery turned her attention back to the screen as Hangman’s music hit, and he stalked down the ramp.

“Ohhh boy. Here comes another amateur,” Bryan smirked as the BCC waited for Hangman in the ring. Bryan leaned in the corner as Mox, Yuta, and Claudio stood in a line in the middle of the ring, ready and waiting.

Emery did not have a good feeling about this and watched with bated breath as Hangman climbed onto the apron, entering the ring.

“What do you got, Hangman?” Bryan asked. It didn’t take long- and it wasn’t much of a surprise considering past bad blood between them- but Hangman goes at Mox first, swinging fists down. Yuta and Claudio instantly swarmed him, though, and as Mox held Hangman in the ropes, they kicked at him, wearing him down.

“Amateur. You’re an amateur!” Bryan called out, getting closer to Hangman and pointing at him,” You want to know what a professional is? Claudio is a professional. Mox is a professional!”

Biting her lip, Emery watched in horror as they continued to beat Hangman up, forearms to the back of his head and neck, kicking at every inch of him they could reach. As she watched Hangman try to ball up in the middle of the ring, doing anything to protect himself—Emery felt her patience waning.  

“I LOVE these men! Do you know what?” Bryan said as they circled Hangman, Claudio still kicking at him,” You don’t have anybody—that loves you.”

That was it. That was the last straw for Emery. She wasn’t standing by anymore and doing nothing. Emery stalked past everyone backstage and ran up the stairs to the stage- ignoring the calls of people trying to stop her.

“Is anybody coming out from the back? NO! Not a damn person! Cuz nobody loves this man! In fact, they don’t even know what love---”

The second the crowd saw her, they began cheering, and it got the BCC’s attention as they looked up the ramp. As Emery got to the ring and climbed up and through the ropes, BCC took a few steps back. She stood protectively in front of Hangman, glaring daggers at the four men across from her, staring each one in the eyes individually. When her eyes met Yuta’s – she saw a brief flicker of worry in his expression, but it quickly disappeared.

“Ohhh, look what we have here.”

Turning her back on them, Emery knelt down and reached out towards Hangman. Her hand gently gripped his upper arm, and he looked up at her with his baby-blue eyes. She could see the pain written all over his face, which only angered her more. Reaching out her other hand, Emery was surprised as solid arms wrapped around her and pulled her away from Hangman. The cowboy reached out his hand- worry now crossing his face; he was desperate to help her. Grimacing in agony, Hangman started pushing himself up off the matt. If anything ever happened to her, Hangman would never forgive himself. Claudio and Yuta intercepted him, though, and continued the beatdown as Mox held a struggling Emery in his grasp. She kicked her legs frantically, trying everything to escape Mox’s strong hold, clawing at his arms with her nails.

“Stop it!” she yelled, reaching out for Hangman in vain.

“You really think that you—” Bryan said,” You? Could stop us? That’s cute. Hey, Cowboy—Emery thinks she knows what love is. She thinks she loves you. Hah.”

Mox’s grip slacked briefly, and Emery pushed away from him with all her strength, but he quickly readjusted before she could get away. She could hear his heavy breathing in her ear, growing tired of her struggles.

“But I know what love is,” Bryan stated, pulling a screwdriver out from his jacket. Emery didn’t see it yet, though, as she was too busy struggling against Mox with her focus on Hangman.

“In fact, when I’ve been at home, I’ve been teaching my kids a few things. A few things about how to fix up your house. And I think the house that is AEW needs to be fixed up. From all these AMATEURS!”

Claudio and Yuta picked Hangman, who stood there limply- his legs unsteady from the beatdown he had sustained. When Emery finally saw the screwdriver, she fought even more against Mox, her whole body thrashing in his arms.

“AMATEURS!” Bryan yelled as he got closer and closer to Hangman.

“No! Please—don’t do---- ADAM!” Emery cried out, reaching out toward him.

“AMATEURS!”

Hangman glared at Bryan as he approached, his eyes briefly glancing toward Emery as she struggled to break free. To him, if his taking this assault meant she would be unharmed, then he’d gladly take it. His eyes focused on Bryan once more, glancing from the screwdriver to Bryan.

“AMATEURS!”

“Adam! Please--- don’t do this! Don’t---!”

By now, the tears were falling down her face, but Emery didn’t care.

She was scared—scared for her friend. Scared at the situation.

“NO!” Emery yelled, flinching as the tip of the steel tool met Hangman’s forehead, and Bryan began to gouge at the skin. Time seemed to stop as she watched in horror, unable to do anything to help Hangman; he fell to the matt below as Yuta and Claudio released their hold on him. Bryan looked back at Mox, who finally released his hold on Emery. The second he let her go, she bolted across the ring, rushing past the BCC and stopping at Hangman’s writing body.

“Adam—” she cried, her hands going to his face.

“Hangman. Is an amateur. Like I said. We are the only real Pro wrestlers in the building tonight. We are the only real professional wrestlers. In AEW tonight. Hell, from what I’ve seen this week, we are the only real professional wrestlers in all damn America tonight.”

Bryan dropped the microphone as Mox walked over towards Emery, crouching down. Her attention snapled to him, glaring daggers despite tears falling from her eyes. Mox merely chuckled at her, shaking his head slightly.

"Told ya last week sweetheart. When we took care of Omega. Stay out. Of this. I'm not gonna warn you again."

He stood up and without further incident, BCC left the ring leaving Emery and Hangman alone. The ringside doctor had come over and began checking on the injury as blood was seeping down Hangman’s face.

“Let’s get him to the back,” the doctor said as Hangman slowly slid under the bottom rope. Emery quickly followed, leaning her body against the cowboy to help support him as they walked up the ramp.

They walked down the small staircase and through the halls in the back, everyone parting to make room for them. Eventually, they made it to the medical room, and Emery had to force herself to let go of Hangman, the doctor taking over supporting him. Taking a few steps back, Emery slowly turned away from the room and slowly walked down the hall. The tears had stopped falling a bit ago, but she knew it wouldn’t take much for them to start falling again. Leaning her back against the white stone wall, Emery rested her head on the cold surface and closed her eyes before sliding down the wall. Bringing her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head against her knees.

All around her, the show continued on as nothing had happened; like Blackpool Combat Club wasn’t taking out the Elite piece by piece. She heard the footsteps near but didn’t register someone calling out her name until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Hey—you okay?”

Slowly, her head rose up, and she looked at Brandon sadly.

“I-“her words refused to come, and Emery could feel the tears building back up in the corners of her eyes, “—Hangman--.”

“Emery,” Brandon shook his head,” Are you okay?” He repeated his question, emphasizing the you, as she let the question sink in.

Nodding her head twice, she replied,” Y-yeah. I-I-“Taking a few deep breaths to keep calm, she continued,” They didn’t hurt me… not physically, at least…”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help,” Brandon frowned,” I was outside with some of the other guys—”

“It’s ‘kay,” Emery gave him a soft smile,” I just… I couldn’t stand by—not while they—”

Wordlessly, Brandon nodded. He knew that we had all been close once; his best friends were the Bucks, and at the start of AEW, he had gotten close to Hangman too. Albeit not as close as the rest of us, but there was still that connection.

“He gonna be okay?” Brandon asked hesitantly.

“Dunno yet,” Emery told him,” The doctor is still checking him.”

“Right… well—let me know, okay? I’m gonna go find Nakazawa…”

Emery gave him a nod, and after giving a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder, Brandon stood up and walked off, disappearing around a corner down the hall.  

“Emery?”

Just as she was about to lay her head down, someone called out, making her head shoot back up. Looking around, she saw the doctor walking towards her and quickly stood up.

“He lost a fair amount of blood, but it wasn’t too terrible damage. I got him bandaged up, though,” the doctor told her.

“Thank you,” Emery nodded, wringing her hands together.

“Of course. He’s uh, he’s asking for you.” With that, the doctor walked off, leaving Emery standing there, unsure.

Taking a deep breath, she walked down the hall and paused outside the room. Hesitantly, Emery peered into the room before taking a step inside. She saw Hangman sitting on one of the chairs to the side, his hands clasped in front of him, deep in concentration on something.

Emery raised her hand and knocked twice on the door, alerting him to her presence; his whole body seemed to jolt as his attention snapped up to her. They stared briefly at each other before Hangman stood and walked over to her.

She could tell he was trying to find the right words, swallowing a lump in his throat before he spoke.

“Why’d you do it? Why’d you put yourself in danger, Ree?” Hangman asked her, his brow furrowed.

“Because….” Emery tried, trailing off as she felt her eyes tear up again,”… Because I couldn’t stand by anymore and let them hurt the people I care about. They’ve already taken out Matt and Nick—and Kenny. Without them here, I’m all alone—”

“You’ve got me,” Hangman interrupted her, a frown on his face,” You’ve always got me.”

“I- I wasn’t sure… with everything that’s happened…” Emery looked down at the ground, “I just knew I couldn’t let them continue…”

“Emery, darlin’,” Hangman said, gently placing a palm on her cheek and bringing her eyes up to his,” If something had happened to you out there—I’d never forgive myself. You… you’re the most important person in my life…”

As a tear fell down her face, Emery felt Hangman wipe it away with his thumb.

“Can… can I have a hug?” she asked him; he gave her a soft grin, nodding to her as he brought her closer to his body. His arms wrapped around her smaller frame, and he rested his chin on the top of her head as Emery snaked her arms around him, gripping his shirt.

Taking a deep breath, she felt peaceful.

The feelings she had not even an hour ago of being alone were replaced with feelings of knowing she was never alone; not as long as she had her cowboy.

“I love you, Adam,” Emery whispered against his chest, missing the smile on his face.

“I love you too, Ree.”