#& talkin about how it's not fair the way the only people men like him can really be with are ones like me. cause if it's someone more like

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Huh.

#doll #i think. he might be startin to let me in a little bit. #yea yea i know he could be fakin it but he's only ever done that when i've been really upset n on the verge of leavin #(assuming that was fake either but it was at least calculated) #& he'd have to be gettin desperate to start fakin vulnerability to this extent #i've been so completely infatuated for a couple of days now again that it wouldn't fit the pattern at all #especially with the way he's...sayin the kinda things that he knows played a part in me becomin more independent to begin with #tellin me i really should have reaper get me outta there if he gets out of control again n doesn't listen when i ask him to stop #even though he hates the thought of someone else protectin me. he can deal with it when it's somewhere he can't do it (like out here) but #if he's there but not doin it so someone else needs to? he looked. really upset about it. cause apparently that's his job #upset with himself not me (or reaper. who he only referred to as 'that guy' sgsgsgsg) #& talkin about how it's not fair the way the only people men like him can really be with are ones like me. cause if it's someone more like #them that fights back n doesn't put up with their shit it's just mutually toxic n everyone's secretly miserable #but when it's someone like me we get hurt so that they can get better. when we really should be w/ someone good n kind n safe #said i shouldn't be the one to pay the price for that. but i'm his 'only shot at getting better' n he doesn't wanna let me go #n it was. a lot. he's never talked about 'gettin better' before. just 'learning how to take care of me right' #but up til now he's always rejected the idea that he'd even need to get better. that there's anythin to heal. #i mean. i'm stayin as long as it looks like he's makin progress. or til he relapses enough times to burn me out completely n i go dormant #that was always the plan. i'm just slowly gettin better at keepin my distance when he's back to his old ways #i just.....really wish he'd stop self sabotaging n talkin about himself the way he does. like ok you wanna be bad then be bad but #stop actin like you're too far gone n all the shit you say about yourself is so built in you can't change em even if you want to #not with that attitude you can't! #spdrvent

[immajustvibehere]

Chance Encounter

Chapter 1

Some slow burn Arthur x reader...enjoy!

Warning: nothing just yet, lot of exposition, more Arthur x reader action in the next chapter, mentions of bullying

Summary: You have been working on Emerald Ranch as long as you can remember. One day, you notice a cowboy who from this day on seems to appear more often to do business with Seamus. You are not sure why, but this man has your fullest attention.

1300 words, less than 10 minutes reading time 

It was one of those days...you were sweating like hell ripping out weed that has grown in between the carrots. Carefully, of course. You were used to being screamed at if you did anything wrong. The work you had to do on the ranch and how you were treated wasn’t fair in any way. It’s not like you actively chose this job. It was your mum who started to work on Emerald Ranch when you were just a baby. Without a father and family for support, your mother was ready to do any kind of work to make sure you wouldn’t have to grow up starving. She always said that you can consider yourself lucky for working on a ranch rather than...you know. She had passed away when you were only fifteen and her workload was transferred to you. You were the idiot for everything, really. Being the youngest woman you often where the victim of gross advances or belittling by the men working here. You would have left but where to? The money you had been saving would be enough to live on for a while, but you knew that living on the ranch was better than aimlessly wandering around as a young woman, jobless, with no relations.

You were just tossing some weed onto a cloth, so you could easily throw it out later, when you saw two riders approaching. This wasn’t unusual. But seeing that they stopped at Seamus and since at least one of them was quite heavily armed, you got an idea of what kind of people they were. A bit out of breath from your work you pressed your old straw hat almost over your eyes, securing your face would be in the shadow and picked up the cloth with the pile of weed. Some eavesdropping never hurt somebody, you thought and jumped over the fence to throw the weed away some distance from the field. Somewhere behind Seamus' barn so you could pass the two strangers. Everybody, the boss aside, knew that Seamus had some shady side business going on, but you were the only one who found such great pleasure in analysing the people that stop at the ranch to sell him stuff. Eavesdrop from time to time was the only activity that gave you some kind of excitement which you rarely experienced in your everyday life.

"Prove ourselves? To this clown? What are ya talkin' about?", scoffed one of the men. You dared a fleeting look when you passed them, still about 13 feet between you. The man who had just called Seamus a clown wore a black hat and a light brown jacket. Seamus seemed annoyed and turning around, he faced in your direction. Quickly the older man in the green coat and the blue hat said: "Listen! He's rough and ready and quick with his tongue but I swear, you can trust him, and trust me." You went out a little further and emptied your cloth of weed close to a donkey that was grazing there. Understanding the men was impossible, they were whispering now. Only as you headed back you hear the older man with the hat turn to the other man who was sitting on the bench and calling him to them with a "Arthur!" and a hasty gesture with his hands. You looked at the man who's name apparently was Arthur only to find his eyes resting on you just a moment longer before he stood up and joined the other two. You hurried back to the field, feeling caught somehow, even though you knew that there was no way this Arthur could have told you were eavesdropping intentionally instead of feeding the donkey.

You had no idea what exactly the men were talking about, but you figured the wheels and hooves you heard at night had something to do with it. Over the next few weeks, you saw Arthur passing through more than once, always stopping to have 'a chat' with Seamus. You managed to find reasons to pass him and catch snippets of the conversation, carrying hay or buckets full of water. On his third or fourth visit to Emerald Ranch, Arthur started greeting people. Most of them ignored the greetings or whispered an insult back. Nothing out of the ordinary for the nice fellows you shared work with. One day, it just so happened that you were watering the flowers when Arthur came riding through the ranch on his horse. You paused, as you usually did, to look up. Passing you, he tipped his hat and with a nod mumbled a kind "Miss". You nodded, too flustered to greet back properly.

It was about a week later when you got up early to collect eggs for breakfast. This was a job you shared with another farm boy called Tom. Tom usually woke up before you but instead of getting up and doing his job he would grab the next best thing, often times a wet rag or a dirty sock, and throw it at you to wake you up. It’s easy to say that you absolutely hated sharing a room with, in this case four, other people. Today however, when you left your shack to walk to the chicken coop, you saw the cowboy leaning against the shed, smoking a cigarette and looking lost in his thoughts.

“Good morning, sir”, you managed to say, “You are waiting on Seamus, I s’pose?”

Arthur looked up, taking his one leg off the wall to stand more upright: “Tha’s right. He starts business around this hour, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah...though he is away for a day or two. Had some personal issues that needed attending.”

“Huh, I see. Guess I’ll be back in a day or two”, you detected a little smile, though you couldn’t really tell, with the sun not having risen yet and his hat throwing an additional shadow on his face.

You nodded; a bit sorry for the lack of reason to keep the conversation alive. Slowly you continued to the chicken coop, when you saw Arthur grab his horse’s reins to lead the horse next to him, all the while keeping up with you.

“So how’s the work here? I feel like everyone on this damn ranch is annoyed all the time”, Arthur inquired.

“It sucks. Doesn’t pay well for the shit one has to do. And it's boring”, you answered, jumping over the gate to collect the chicken eggs in your hat.

“At least it’s honest work”, Arthur said, putting a lot of stress on the ‘honest’ part.

“Well”, you smiled with sudden confidence, “a week of honest work won’t get me as much as Seamus pays you fellas for whatever you are bringing him in one day.”

The man laughed. It was wonderful to hear somebody laugh about something you said. He wasn’t laughing at you, nor was it glee because you fell for a prank or accidentally dropped something. This, you were used to. Only a couple of days ago Tom had found pleasure in dipping your shoes into some cow’s shit before placing them next to your other belongings. The boys had found it amusing. Arthur though seemed to have a good time and suddenly you felt better than you have felt in a long time.

“Anyways, I’ll be off", in a moment Arthur was on his horse, "See you around”. He tapped his hat respectfully before he gave his horse the spurs.

“Thank you, sir”, you smiled, “Have a nice day.”

With this you watched him ride away until his small figure was swallowed by the next hill. You were exhilarated and most definitely awake.

-----x

Chapter 2: here

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr fanfiction

[hartigays]

big brain thot: wheezie being the one to get rafebarry together👀👀

“wheeze, you can’t just show up here like this.”

she hasn’t even gotten off her bicycle yet, helmet still in place and everything. she looks up at rafe with big eyes, rolling them as slowly and dramatically as humanly possible.

“i just did,” wheezie points out, unclipping her helmet and setting it in the front basket of her bike.

rafe eyes her warily, then relaxes a bit. his eyes flicker back towards the trailer. “how’d you even know i’d be here?”

“topper,” she tells him simply, shrugging.

“topper?”

another overly-dramatic eye roll. “yes, topper. he came by looking for sarah and i asked him if he knew where you were. i need help with something.”

“and topper told you i’d be here?” rafe asks, brows raised.

topper is a lot of things, but is he the type of person to send a kid to a coke dealer’s trailer? no, absolutely not.

“i encouraged him,” wheezie replies, a little too vague for rafe’s liking. he narrows his eyes and she sighs. “fine, i kicked him in the crotch until he gave it up. happy?”

rafe snorts at the mental image.

wheezie finally climbs off her bike, standing in front of rafe with her arms crossed. “so, are you going to help me or not?”

he really doesn’t want to say yes. but he’s sort of always had a soft spot for wheezie - she’s one of two people who don’t make him feel completely homicidal.

(the other is sitting back in the trailer, smoking a joint and watching some boxing match on his old as shit tv. the thing has antennas, for fuck’s sake.)

rafe glances back at the trailer again, then turns back to wheezie, scrubbing a hand over his face. “fine. but you can’t come inside, wheeze, i’m serious.”

“why, because of drugs?” wheezie snorts, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “please. i’m pretty sure you smoked weed in my room when i was like, five.”

“that’s not the point,” rafe huffs, his fuse shortening ever-so-slightly. “just tell me what you want.”

for the first time since her arrival, wheezie looks mildly uncomfortable. she bites her lip, looking towards the treeline.

“i want to learn how to fight,” she says, and her voice sounds so small that rafe sort of feels… bad.

which is like a new milestone or whatever, so this is sort of a big moment for him.

“why do you need to learn how to fight?”

wheezie doesn’t say anything for a long stretch. then, her cheeks get red, and the words burst out of her. “i’m getting picked on at school, alright? this girl keeps saying she’s going to beat me up after class and i can only hide from her for so long, you know?”

rafe is mildly taken aback, never figuring wheezie for the type to get bullied. she always seemed self-assured and well adjusted, with a sizable group of friends and an active social life. for a middle schooler, anyway.

“what’s her name?” rafe asks, indignant on his sister’s behalf.

if he had to choose a sister to be the target of bullying, it’d definitely be sarah. wheezie, on the other hand, is just a kid. and if someone is threatening to kick her ass, rafe sure as hell is going to find out who.

“i’m not telling you her name, rafe,” wheezie says. “i don’t want you going and knocking her door down to threaten her or whatever. i want you to teach me how to fight so i can hold my own.”

rafe would probably just kill the kid, not threaten her, whoever she is. but he doesn’t tell this to wheezie, biting his tongue for once.

he rocks back on his heels, then sighs, and beckons for wheezie to follow him into the trailer.

wheezie throws her arms up as if to say fucking finally, following rafe inside.

barry is still smoking on the couch, but when he sees wheezie trailing after rafe, he has the presence of mind to put the joint out with an awkward cough.

“you gonna tell me who your little friend is, country club?”

“i’m his sister, wheezie,” she says before rafe can speak, rolling her shoulders back and holding barry’s gaze steadily.

“wheezie?” barry repeats, then laughs, wagging his finger in her direction. “you funny, kid.”

wheezie gives rafe a look, clearly judging him for his choice of company.

“jury’s still out on you,” wheezie tells barry, eyeing him.

barry actually throws his head back when he laughs this time, and rafe can’t help but eye the line of his throat, his mouth going a little dry.

the worst part is, wheezie notices him staring. she raises a brow at rafe. he just coughs and looks away, regretting every decision he’s made in the last ten minutes.

“look, she wants to learn how to fight,” rafe tells barry. “i figured two heads would be better than one?”

“or you just a pussy and know you can’t beat nobody’s ass, rafe,” barry says, reclining back on the sofa, staring at him through heavily-lidded eyes.

“neither can you,” rafe reminds him.

always reminding him. where rafe has failed, barry has too. rather consistently, as a matter of fact.

“fair ‘nough,” barry says after a stretch, leaning forward again. “two heads, then.”

wheezie coughs, and they both turn to look at her. she gives them a bored look. “are you two done having a moment? or do you still need a minute? because i can step outside if- ”

“shut up, wheeze,” rafe groans, pushing her towards the couch.

they spend the next hour and a half discussing fighting techniques, and the cardinal rules of fighting. the ones rafe and barry abide by, anyway.

there aren’t many. they spend the majority of the time discussing technique.

when wheezie gets sick of listening to them yammer on about the different types of headlocks, she starts to get restless.

“oh my god, i didn’t come for the rules of fight club, alright? will one of you just show me how to punch this bitch in the face?”

both barry and rafe shut up immediately, barry’s mouth dropping open in mild surprise.

rafe just snorts, mumbling fair enough under his breath.

and that’s how rafe ends up watching barry do some sort of shadow boxing with wheezie in the living room. rafe re-lights the joint, watching the scene before him in amusement.

“no, kid, you ain’t gotta do all that fancy shit with your legs,” barry is saying at one point, then demonstrates some sort of kick for her.

rafe forgets sometimes that barry has military training, and despite the fact that he gets his ass beat on a regular basis, he’s a pretty damn good teacher.

the joint is long gone by the time wheezie looks at her watch, cursing.

“shit. rose is gonna kill me,” wheezie mutters, fumbling for her phone.

“just tell her you’re staying at a friend’s,” rafe suggests. “it’s too dark for you to bike back anyway.”

“you could always drive me, you know,” wheezie reminds him. then, her eyes flicker down to what’s left of the joint (basically, the filter) and backtracks. “well, he could.”

she’s pointing at barry, and barry shrugs.

rafe, however, finds himself wanting wheezie to stay. dare he say it, he might’ve actually missed his sister.

he’s pretty sure he’ll regret it later, but regardless he says, “we’ll get you something to eat and you can crash here if you’re too tired to go home after.”

something to eat ends up being freezer-burnt pizza rolls, but wheezie doesn’t complain. she eats her food while scrolling through her phone, glancing up at rafe and barry every now and then.

they’re conversing quietly about a drug deal they have set up later, a big one. rafe doesn’t think wheezie is listening, but he also doesn’t notice the way she keeps glancing up at them, her eyes flickering between them with an unreadable look on her face.

and then, out of nowhere, “are you guys dating?”

rafe looks at her sharply and he sees barry do the same out of the corner of his eye. barry’s mouth had shut so quickly that his teeth clacked together, and rafe can see him rubbing at his jaw.

“what the hell, wheeze?”

wheezie raises her hands in mock-surrender, but still rolls her eyes. “it’s just a question, geez. but thanks for the answer.”

“the fuck is she talkin’ about?” barry asks, his gaze flickering between rafe and wheezie.

“you two,” wheezie explains slowly, looking almost bored. again. rafe is starting to think he’s had a bad influence on her. “you’re dating, right? like that’s why you’re always here, right?”

the latter question is directed towards rafe, and he feels his stupid cheeks betray him, burning red.

“oh, right. you’re men, of course you haven’t talked about it,” wheezie sighs, then stands up and brushes invisible crumbs off her shorts. “well, i conveniently have to use the bathroom, so. use this time wisely, i guess?”

then wheezie disappears from the small kitchen, leaving rafe and barry sitting in thick, palpable silence.

“so… what the fuck just happened?” rafe asks when he can’t take the uncomfortable silence any longer, pointedly not looking at barry.

when barry shifts in his seat, rafe can feel it, and he realizes all at once just how close they’re sitting.

“she thinks… “ barry trails off, shifting in his seat again.

“that we’re dating,” rafe finishes, swallowing around the golf ball-sized lump that has mysteriously appeared in his throat.

rafe can feel barry looking at him. he can feel the heat of his gaze, and wow, wheezie is taking a really long time in the bathroom.

“that what we been doing, country club?” barry asks, and rafe looks over at him so quickly that his neck pops.

rafe searches barry’s face for any trace of humor, but comes up empty.

they’ve been practically living together for months, ever since rafe gave up trying to please ward and joined barry’s little side business. and if he really thinks about it, they have lapsed into something almost nauseatingly domestic.

it’s like. like rafe’s been in this weird, fucked up relationship this whole time, and he’s just now realizing it. and realizing, at the same time, that he doesn’t want it to end now that wheezie has gutted them both and laid everything out in the open, where neither of them can hide.

jesus fucking christ, is he in love with barry? barry the drug dealer?

well, rafe supposes that’s what he would call himself now, too, so. maybe it makes some sort of sense after all.

“i don’t think so, but i think we should now,” rafe finally says. he doesn’t know why he says that last bit, it just sort of slips out before he realizes what he’s saying.

but he doesn’t take it back either.

barry is too quiet next to him. the silence goes on for far too long, and rafe is starting to debate internally whether or not he should dump wheezie’s body in the swamp or somewhere off shore.

finally, barry speaks. “startin’ to think you may be onto somethin’, rafe cameron.”

“so is that a yes?” rafe huffs, already feeling exposed enough as it is. he doesn’t need barry speaking in shades of gray.

suddenly, there are fingers wrapping around his jaw, gentler than rafe would’ve anticipated, and then barry is turning rafe’s head and kissing him.

like, really kissing him. rafe feels like he’s being turned inside out, his insides shifting and adjusting, rearranging and adapting to make room for barry.

it’s not a particularly long kiss, but it’s sure as hell the best one rafe has experienced in his life.

“they teach you that in the army?” rafe asks when barry pulls away, aiming for nonchalant but failing due to the heavy rise and fall of his chest. and the fact that he can’t stop staring at barry’s mouth.

barry just smacks the back of rafe’s head, shoving him lightly. “get the fuck out my kitchen, country club.”

rafe is about to respond when the bathroom door opens, and wheezie pokes her head out.

“ugh, thank god you’re finally done. you should invest in a bathroom fan, you know,” wheezie tells barry, “i could literally hear everything.”

she shudders and gags, barry laughs, and rafe vaults himself out the nearest window.

well, he tries to. barry catches him by the waist easily, dragging him back into his seat. wheezie just rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“okay, well, since you’re done being a drama queen, i think i’d like that ride home now.”

#rafebarry #outer banks #fanon rafe and canon rafe my beloveds #thank u for the request!! <3 #my fics #ask #anon

[hotchscvm]

side to side

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: In which you're performing your hit single in front of your fellow Avengers cast-mates and Chris can't seem to take his eyes off of you, catching the attention of a few cameras.

"I'm here with the biggest pop-star of this generation, and she plays the very talented daughter of Tony Stark," the interviewer announced your name, smiling brightly at you as the camera panned your way. The hundreds of thousands of fans at home screaming when your face appeared. "How do you feel with all your nominations tonight?"

You smiled at the camera, giving a small wave at the people watching at home. "Honestly, I'm just glad I was even considered for these nominations. I mean, my girls Taylor, and Billie...they're amazing and I'm so happy to be put in the same category as them."

The lady grinned at you, her eyes twinkling. Or maybe it was her sparkly dress, the fabric nearly blinding you with how it shined under the lights. "If you ask me, you've got a pretty good chance at winning. I mean, your hit single—Side to Side—surpassed, like, a billion views in just a month? That's impressive."

"Well, I couldn't have done it without my fans." you replied, winking at the camera.

It was that time of the year again, where every artist, actor, and YouTuber hit the stage for the People's Choice Awards. With your crazy schedule, and the lack of sleep, you had planned to skip the award show until your friend, and co-star, Chris Evans—Captain America himself—convinced you otherwise. Even with the categories you've been nominated for had been more than a handful, but it was the begging and constant complaining from Chris that made you get off your tired ass and put it into a tight dress.

Your hit single, Side to Side, had everyone anticipated for your performance, unsure if you would be performing until the producers had put your name into the advertisement, making fans blow up Twitter. You were sure they had advertised your own song, along with your movie nominations, more than you ever had.

With nominations of Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Action Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Female Movie Star of the Year (Amara Stark), Female Artist of the Year, Song of the Year (Side to Side), Music Video of the Year (Into You), Beauty Influencer of the Year, and Social Celebrity of the Year, you had your hands full, which had only made your manager glow with happiness.

"Of course!" the interviewer agreed, glancing at the teleprompter filled with tiny words. "It was rumored that you wouldn't be coming, and a lot of us were upset, including me. Was that just a rumor or..."

"Actually, it's not that far off. I'm fucking—oh, shit—oh no!" you gasped, covering your mouth before anymore foul words could come out on live television. Instead of correcting you, the lady laughed, patting your arm softly. "Can't say that on tv. My bad. I, uh, with everything going on, I've been really tired, and I haven't slept in a week. I just wanted to chill, and accept my nominations at home but someone convinced me to come. So, if I say or do anything ridiculous tonight, I'm blaming him and my lack of sleep."

She nodded, clapping slowly. "I think that's fair. Is that someone, your onscreen father, RDJ?"

"He was one of the many people who unsuccessfully changed my mind, but no, it was Chris Evans. He promised me a day with his adorable dog, Dodger, and I couldn't refuse." you said, grinning at how his face had changed from hopeless to cocky as soon as he brought up Dodger.

"If I'm remembering this correctly, Chris Evans is that very handsome man you had kissed in your music video earlier this year. Into You, right? How do you feel kissing one of your co-stars outside of the movies your working on?"

"Technically, it was still acting, and I have kissed him before, so it wasn't awkward at all." you answered, glad Chris had accepted the role. Not only had it sky-rocketed the views and streams, but it made you feel better that it was his lips you were kissing and not a random model's. Yet, it didn't feel as professional as it had before when you pulled away after a take.

In scenes where you had to kiss the Boston actor, it was as professional as kicking Anthony Mackie's ass in Civil War but the kisses you shared on the set of the music video was definitely more personal. At the time, you had brushed it off as Chris being recently single, but now that you had broken up with Henry, you started questioning it again.

The interviewer nodded, squinting once more to read the words off the teleprompter before asking you another question that would certainly make the headlines. "I've been reading up on all those juicy tabloids and I've got one question that would satisfy my curiosity. Was Into You written about Henry Cavill or Tom Ellis?"

Usually, that type of question made you change the subject or altogether avoid the matter but this time, you wanted to joke about your failed engagement. "Henry, but Side to Side was written about Tom since I wanted more Grammy's considering the last album I put out won me a few. But this time, I'm gonna do it without an engagement."

The woman faked a laugh, surprised by the blunt honesty of your answer. "Um, you certainly do have a thing for British men, eh? I don't want to keep you up, but one more thing, for the fans. They've been dying to know if there's anything going on between you and Chris Evans. Any tea you wanna spill?"

"There's none to spill. We're just friends but it's always amusing scrolling through Twitter to find these edits of us." you replied, fidgeting slightly with the hem of your dress. Like usual, you had wondered if you should've worn something less extra but you had let your stylist play dress up with you for the past few months.

"Of course. Well, good luck to you, and I can't wait to see your performance." she said, giving you a little pat on the shoulders before announcing your name once again.

You got off the little platform, immediately taking Chris' awaiting hand, holding onto it as you climbed down the steps in your dangerous stilettos. Sighing, you leaned on him, trying to avoid the blinding camera flashes. "That was more exhausting than I thought it would be. You need to get me some caffeine after this is over because there's no way I'm making it to the after show without at least a few cans of Red Bull."

"So dramatic." Chris grinned, childishly sticking his tongue out as he guided you down the red carpet, stopping when told to take a picture. He let go of your hand, only to wrap it around your waist as you posed for the pictures. "Are you going to the after party?"

Posing seriously for a few seconds, you let your smile back on your face, facing the man beside you. "I was thinking about it, take a few photos, and head back home. Aren't you?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could ditch it and just hang out. You know, I did promise you some time with Dodger and you could waste a couple hours sleeping." he replied, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your waist. Flashing you a shit-eating smirk, he nudged you a little, pulling you away from the blinding flashes. "What do you say?"

You opened your mouth to answer only to be cut off by your manager, Alexandre coming out of nowhere to rip you away from Chris' arms. The latin man sighed in annoyance, glancing at his watch while giving you the look you've seen too many times before. "You're supposed to be in wardrobe right now. Get your ass backstage, and change before you miss your own performance. As for you, Mr. Evans, Megan wants your ass in a chair."

"I'll see you after." you say, getting dragged by your manager, winking at the actor before walking towards the changing area, the cameras following you until they couldn't enter the area.

Getting ready before a huge performance always calmed you down, maybe it was the smell of makeup or the feel of designer clothing made especially for you, but something about it made you feel comfortable and cozy. It was like a routine, especially with all the music videos and movies you had to film, the makeup, the hair.

They made you sit back, giving you your phone like a child while they made you even more sparkly than before, making sure you'd stand out against the flashing lights during the performance. A performance you made sure no one would ever forget. Smiling, you let your thoughts drift back to a certain super soldier as you were pampered.

—

"Welcome to the People's Choice Awards!"

The room darkened, the blue and pinks lights focusing on the stage as cameras all turned towards your shadow. Making sure your mic was set properly, tried to see past the darkness, to see a familiar face or two but with the headache coming on from the tight half-ponytail didn't help your case. The music started, the beat vibrating, you flipped your hair, and started.

"I've been there all night

I've been there all day (Nicki Minaj)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Let then hoes know)"

You rode the bike, belting out in your microphone, the attached headset limiting your movements a little. Gripping the handles, you made eye contact at the camera to your left, winking at it as you pedaled.

"I'm talkin' to ya

See you standing over there with your body

Feeling like I wanna rock with your body

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'

I'm comin' at ya

'Cause I know you got a bad reputation

Doesn't matter, 'cause you give me temptation

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'"

As you had sung, your eyes had adjusted to the bright spotlight focused on you, seeing a shadow of the one person you wanted to make you walk side to side. While you had answered the reporter's question, you hadn't been completely honest. Some of the lyrics had been written for the Bostonian; or to be more exact, your sex fantasies. With the chorus coming up, you let go of the handles, trying not to fall on your ass as you clapped your hands above your head, the claps matching the beat.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I..."

Trying to be bold, you stared at him, his face in particular. The spotlight had blinded you so much that you couldn't see what his reaction was—or anyone's for that matter—but maybe it was a good thing. After all, his gaze always made you blush no matter how hard you tried not to. Pedaling faster, you threw your head back, hoping the motion would draw everyone's—Chris'—eyes on your chest.

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

With the help of a shirtless dancer, you got off your bike, taking the sheer jacket from him, and putting it on as you walked towards the front of the stage, moving your hips in to the beat of the song. Resting a hand on a shirtless dancer, you positioned yourself so you were grinding your ass against his crotch, throwing back an arm around his neck.

"Been tryna hide it

Baby, what's it gonna hurt if they don't know?

Makin' everybody think that we solo

Just as long as you know you got me

And boy, I got ya

'Cause tonight I'm making deal with the devil

And I know it's gonna get me in trouble

Just as long as you know you got me"

Sashaying to the little balance beam at the front of the stage, you made sure your hips swayed more than usual.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

A few seconds after your note ended, you strike a pose on the balance beam, posing for a few more seconds while the cameras turned their attention away from you and onto the queen of rap herself: Nicki Minaj. The leather, pink bodysuit was identical to yours except for the color, her attitude fitting the badass outfit. She began to walk towards the stage, never breaking eye contact with the camera in front of her while the men pretending to work out to the choreo.

"Uh, yeah

This the new style with the fresh type of flow

Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle

Come through yo, get you this type of blow

If you want a ménage, I got a tricycle

All these bitches' flows is my mini-me

Body smoking, so they call me Young Nicki Chimney

Rappers in they feelings 'cause they feelin' me

Uh, I-I give zero fucks and I got zero chill in me

Kissing me, copped the blue box that say Tiffany

Curry with the shot, just tell 'em to call me Stephanie

Gun pop, then I make my gum pop

I'm the queen of rap"

By the time she had finished her verse, you had caught up with the multitasking of both working out and singing, able to use your full singing capabilities for your high note. Nicki joined you on stage, hyping up the crowd while you built up for the high note, almost every camera pointed at you except for the one focused on capturing the headline-worthy expression slapped on Chris' face.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give em up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all night, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)

I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all day, baby) (Ooh, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)"

Both you and Nicki motioned for the dancers to come towards you, curling your index finger at the sexy men. Singing the refrain, you both made them drop to their knees in front of you, as if they were kneeling at your command.

Just as the last note was sung, everyone clapped, the majority standing up, and more cheered. You noticed Chris hadn't done either, still sitting in his motionless while two camera men pointed their cameras at him. Your eyebrows furrowed, thankfully after the spotlight had shifted over to the miniature stage where the two hosts were babbling about nominations.

You were ushered off the stage along with the queen of rap herself, taking a few backstage photos before quickly returning back to your dressing room to change into your tailored dress. Your mind had wandered to why Chris hadn't applauded—not that he was obliged too, but a little something would've nice, especially with all the days put into the performance.

Taking a deep breath, you entered the big room, filled with your co-stars and other A-list celebrities. Little did you know you'd find out the reason to your question in the morning.

—

The loud ringtone woke you up, the sound obnoxious and borderline abuse to your ears. Beside you, Chris groaned, rolling onto his stomach, trying to muffle the sound of the call with his arm draped over his head. Putting him out his misery, you lazily reached for your phone, pressing the green button with dread, seeing the name across the screen.

"Hello—"

"You're trending on Twitter." Alexandre announced, happy with the results of the previous awards show. While it wasn't something as big as a Grammy or Oscar, judging by the amount of awards you had taken home, you became the people's favorite. "Hold on, lemme rephrase that. You and Chris are trending. Number one, world wide."

Glancing at the man sleeping beside you, you sat up, confused by the information given to you. You blamed Chris for making you stay up so late for your confusion. "Um, why? Did I accidentally have another nip slip?"

"What the hell?" Chris mumbled, rolling onto his back, his arm grazing your bare stomach. He immediately took it back, sitting up to look over your puzzled face. "What's going on?"

You shrugged, putting your phone on speaker so Alexandre could explain. Your manager chuckled, knowing you had stayed the night with Chris. He was just waiting for the day you'd finally have the guts to speak about the growing sexual tension. "Okay, Alex, explain."

"As much as I would love to go into full detail, I have other stuff to do so, I'm going to give you the basics. Chris' reaction to your performance went viral, people are shipping the both of you, and there's been thousands of memes made." Alexandre replied, a smile evident in his voice. "Anyways, I have to go. Got some interviews to schedule. Have fun getting your way out of this, Chris."

Your phone screen went back to the home screen, a picture of your family dog, Buster, smiling widely. Looking at Chris, you saw his eyes widened, his hands coming to rest of his face in embarrassment as he fell back onto the bed with a bounce, his head nearly hitting the headboard. "Oh, fuck."

"Are you going to show me what your face looked like or do I have to scroll through Twitter until I find it? Oh! Maybe they edited it in my performance." you thought out load, tapping on the YouTube app. You hadn't trusted yourself enough to log into your official account, knowing you'd probably make a mistake so you opted for having a secondary account where you could watch cat videos without the anxiety of posting something stupid.

Chris' hand snatched your phone away, tucking it in his pocket, the sweats he had slept in was somehow wrinkled, and his shirt damp from the warmth. "You wanna get some food? I'll cook some bacon but you'll have to make the pancakes 'cause the last time—"

"I wanna see your reaction." you whined, reaching across his stomach for your phone. Chris turned his body away from you, shielding the phone from your reach. "Chris!"

He waved your attempt away, rolling off the bed, his feet hitting the floor before you could fall back on the mattress.You poured, getting on all fours, crawling towards the edge. Chris took a step back, brows furrowing. "It's not important. Let's get you some food."

"Fine." you mumbled, an idea making you light up. Rolling off the bed, you glanced at his phone on the nightstand, exposed and easy to take. With quick reflexes, you grabbed his phone, rolling back on the bed until you reached the other side, making it impossible for him to reach for his phone back.

"Hey!" the Bostonian shouted, launching himself on the bed in attempt to get his phone back. He made a noise as you rushed out of your room, locking yourself in the nearby bathroom, laughing evilly when he threw himself at the door. He yelled out your name, his fist banging on the door. "I'm serious! Don't!"

Ignoring his begging, you opened his phone with your thumbprint. How ironic how much he didn't want you to look at his phone when he was the one who insisted you have the password to it. His arguments became louder as you opened up his Twitter, immediately heading to the trending section, seeing both your names at the number one spot.

"Damn, I look hot." you joked out loud, making Chris silent for a second before pleading for you not to continue. You smirked, scrolling through the tweets, trying to find his reaction. "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you? Did you fall on your face or something?"

Chris groaned, banging his head on the door in defeat as he heard your almost inaudible gasp, that quickly turned into little giggles. If he wasn't so embarrassed, he would've broken the door down to hold you in his arms. "Oh, no."

Bursting out into hard laughter, you fell into the large bathtub, hitting your head on the wall but you couldn't care less. The expression on his face during your performance had been borderline comical, the wide eyes, the jaw hanging open, the open hand resting on his chin while his eyes stayed strained on you the whole time, never wavering from your body, the sexy choreography making his jeans tight.

Cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West, tears ran down your cheeks, your stomach cramping from the maniacal laughter. Lifting yourself up from the tub, you stumbled to the door, your loud laugh ringing out towards the whole house. You let Chris in the bathroom, his phone quickly taken from your hand but it was too late. The blush on his cheeks wasn't going away anytime soon. You leaned against him, your head resting on his chest, while you panted out a question. "Why did you look like you were trying to attract flies in your mouth?"

Chris groaned again, covering his eyes with a hand while the other rested on your back. "You're not going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Oh, God, no." you giggled, wiping the tears away, beginning to calm down. Glancing up at him, you noticed everything above the shoulders was gleaming red, the embarrassment too unbearable for him. "Chris, you looked exactly like the first time we were forced to share a bed together."

"Yeah, you have that affect on me."

"You gonna tell me why you looked so ... shocked? Or do I have to search through Twitter and go with whatever fan theory makes the most sense?" you asked, unable to keep the smug grin off your face. Chris closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't made you come to the awards show in the first place. You raised an eyebrow, fingers itching towards his phone. "You know I'll do it, Evans."

The man raised his hands, taking them off of you as he paced around the bathroom, deciding if this embarrassing moment was the right time to finally confess. "It's just, you know, the dance was so ... sexual and hot that I probably wasn't the only one looking at you like that. You can't exactly blame me for being shocked, watching the girl I'm in love with—"

Chris stopped as you be watched the colors drain out of your face, immediately freezing when he realized what he had said. Both of you stared at each other, eyes wide, not moving a muscle, barely blinking; the atmosphere so tense neither of you were breathing, waiting for the other to talk. But neither of you wanted to go first, terrified.

It wasn't until you started to feel dizzy that you realized you hadn't been breathing, letting out a huge breath, trying to relax while Chris did the same, his hands shaking, a nervous tick he got whenever he was anxious. You got the courage to speak first.

"What?"

It was better than nothing.

Chris was so nervous he nearly ran out of the room. There wasn't some kind of handbook or script he could read, helping him tell one of his best friends how head over heels he was for her. So, he said what his brain was stewing. "What?"

"What—what?" you replied, unsure if he even said the L word, so lightheaded by the sudden confession.

The actor stilled, eyes widening even further, while his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Say what one more time, Evans, and I will make nothing but mac and cheese for the rest of your stay." you threatened softly, getting tired of not having an answer to your one-worded question.

Chris took a deep breath, hands trembling as he clasped them together, hoping to find the right words, hoping his inner thoughts would come out clear, giving you the answer you asked for. "I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?"

"What you were saying before. You know, before you looked like you saw a ghost and almost stopped breathing. I think that would be a good start." you replied, backing up to take a seat on the plush chair. Chris mirrored your actions, putting down the lid to the toilet before sitting down.

"This isn't the way I wanted you to find out." Chris whispered, his blue eyes trained on the emotions that flashed on your face. Your uncertainty of the situation didn't help his anxiety.

"Okay, um, were you going to tell me in the first place?" you asked, playing with the hem of your shirt—it had been a borrowed Patriots shirt from him. Looking back, you realized all the little things he'd done hadn't been because his platonic love for you. "Or were you just going to keep letting it be this way?"

Fidgeting with his hands, Chris peered through his eyelashes, seeing the hurt flash across your face before you quickly composed it. "Scott was hyping me up, trying to convince me to tell you before you got into another relationship. Do you know the real reason I broke up with Jenny? It hurt like hell when you announced you were engaged. Fuck, I couldn't even pretend to be happy because you were going to have the life I wanted with you, with someone who wasn't me. It was selfish and I got really mad at myself for being a dick."

"But—"

"And then the horrible, horrible relief I felt when you called off the engagement." Chris continued, his heart clenching. "Truth to be told, that was the day I found out I was in love with you, breaking things off with Jenny. Of course, I wanted to wait until you moved on, hoping to be the friend you went to but with my schedule, that was impossible. So, you seemed out comfort in Henry fucking Cavill."

"You're in love with me?" you whispered, hoping this wasn't some kind of cruel dream. If it was, you wouldn't mind staying.

The actor nodded, waiting for you to call him names and rush out. "Yes. You can leave or slap me or whatever you want to do but I love you."

You got up, running a hand through your hair. "Okay."

Chris' heart sank, wishing for any other kind of reaction, wishing you'd do something. Taking a deep breath, he got up. "Is this a goodbye?"

Frowning, you walked up to him, taking his face between with your hands, pressing your lips softly to his. You could feel his heart beat, the little organ beating so hard. You pulled away before he could recover from his shock, before he could kiss you back.

"Hello."

#chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #captain america #reader insert #marvel #chris evans x singer!reader #nicki minaj #ariana grande #fluff #side to side #song fic

[discoclubofvenus]

Smoochin Hotties

Kissing headcanons for Benimaru, Joker, and Obi

Type: Request, Headcanons

Genre: Fluff

Attributes: GN reader

Warnings: Suggestive themes, minor cussing

A/N: OOoooo yeah writing these men had me weak in the knees and I was listening to slowed + reverb music? Ya these were fun to write but also I haven’t proofread them so I apologize in advance lol enjoy~

LAZY!!! KISSES!!

LIPS THAT ARE SWEET (like caramel) AND SOFT BECAUSE HE WONT LET THE DESSERTS THE GRANNYS MAKE FOR HIM GO TO WASTE

Before giving you what you want, he’ll lean his forehead on yours and peck you everywhere but your lips (up until you whine that is)

“Impatient brat I was getting to that part”

I’m talkin this man will drag out the kiss for as long as possible and have the pace be at teasingly slow pace

He likes to take his time with you

This man would let you take control the first time you guys kiss due to him not knowing what to do

Babes is insecure with himself so I feel like he’d be insecure with kissing and would want to know what you like first 

Just know this won't be the case for long

Once he’s become more confident in kissing? Just know the makeout sessions will leave you dizzy but that’s a conversation for another day

Benimaru the type to pull you in by your hips and makeout with you once you guys are alone (some grinding will happen as well)

He will spare but a few kisses in public, he’d rather keep all of his affection for you behind closed doors so he won’t have to hold back or worry about his image

A forehead kiss for sure (I read a fic about him giving reader a forehead kiss and now I can’t get it out my head)

Most of his public affections includes: lips grazing over your cheek, short hugs, an arm around your waist, a hand at your back--chile...let me get back to the kisses

He loves it whenever you kiss his lips, it’s incredibly straightforward and he enjoys having your lips on his but shall I raise you….kissing his hands? Specifically the hands which protect everything he loves and cares for? A good way to melt this man’s heart

He’ll return your affection with a hug to his chest and a kiss to your temple, which is the most sensitive part of your head, in a way to silently say he’ll protect and cherish even the softest parts of you (I’m SOFT THE WAY I LOVE THIS MAN)

Beni also likes to kiss the middle of your chest right before he lays down on your chest for a nap fleiuwbfliuwebf

Everytime Benimaru kisses you, it’s either to tease you or give a hidden message

Him kissing your shoulder could be read as ‘Thank you for always supporting me through the celebrations and the heartbreak’

But he would equally kiss your ear just to fluster you

I keep on daydreaming about kissing Beni instead of writing plz give a minute

When he kisses you, he would rub circles on your waist with his thumb

PLAY WITH HIS HAIR WHILE YOU KISS! ON GOD THIS MAN WILL PHYSICALLY MELT INTO YOUR EMBRACE

He loves kisses especially since he knows that all of your kisses are reserved for him and vice versa

The first time you kissed him you blew this man’s world away

Mornings with Benimaru always seemed like they should be a part of your dreams. The dawn of a new day gently shakes you awake and the sunrise has never failed to stop its onslaught of kisses to your face. Much like you planned to with Benimaru. Shifting closer to Benimaru’s face, you cupped his cheek and took a moment to study his face. The man always had a relaxed face but it seems as though he reached a new level of peace in his sleep. Carefully you placed butterfly kisses all over his face, which caused him to leave his own dreams. The tell-tell signs of Benimaru waking up only spurred you to press a loving kiss onto his lips. And just like in the fairytales, your lover was awakened by a true love’s kiss. The kiss didn’t last too long as you only did it to wake up the ravenette yet he had a different plan. Feeling his forehead lean onto yours, you both stared into each other’s eyes and savored the serene atmosphere with a kiss.

After your first kiss, Benimaru prefers to start the day with your kisses and he also likes to end his day with them as well

Benimaru is a fan of hugging you from behind and planting kisses on your head

He always has a comment ready after you guys kiss, it could either be snarky or incredibly sweet (In private it's usually the ladder)

Another one who will kiss you to either give hidden messages that he’s not able to properly convey verbally, or to tease the hell out of you

The most common kiss will be the corner of your lips (to tease) and the back of your shoulder (to show that he will always have your back)

If he’s really in love with you, he’ll jokingly kiss your knuckles (as a gentleman should, but one day he hopes to be able to walk the world with your hands linked without having to worry about anything)

His kisses really depend on his mood (if we’re being completely honest)

If he’s feeling energetic then his kisses will leave you in a haze of pleasure

If he’s feeling soft then you would be able to feel the love he has for you in every kiss (period)

When he kisses you, he will quickly turn it into a makeout session because who is he to deny his desire for having your lips in every way possible?

I say this to say that he will bite your tongue/lower lip every time you guys kiss (every time. Without fail.)

If you bite back you’re literally asking for a rough makeout session

He loves kissing your shoulder and any sensitive spots that you have on your body (be it your neck, side, ear, etc)

He enjoys the fact you’re only this vulnerable around him

He also likes whispering in your ear (about his love for you or blatant dirty talk) between each kiss

When you guys are walking together, elbows linked, and he kisses your temple *swooon* (which is extremely rare so treasure it while it lasts)

Don’t expect him to allow affection while you guys are out in public together, yes he’s suave and charming, but he’s also wanted by many enemies. Whatever trouble he gets into, Joker doesn’t want it traced back to you. 

He doesn’t want you to be caught in any danger for just being associated with him 

Whenever you guys are dancing to some soft jazz and he presses his lips on yours and makes you see stars

I imagine his scent to be overwhelming when you’re kissing him and his goal is to make you see stars everytime you kiss

He also likes kissing the inside of your thighs

He’s the type to grab you by your chin and kiss you, or he’ll keep an arm around your waist and a hand on your ass

His lips taste like cigarettes, Hennesy, a hint of vanilla (bc of his chapstick), and desperation

I don’t recommend playing with his hair while you kiss, however, he’d love for you to grab the back of his neck  

Something about you being just as crazy about him as he is about you gets to him

He definitely has experience in the kissing field (he’s had hoes before) but if you want him to Joker will go at any pace you want him to

He treasures every kiss with you as if it might be his last (cuz it might be tbh plus he isn’t sure how long your relationship will last)

He’s the type to not put a label on your relationship and is super vague about it (it’s his trust issues) but he’ll just follow what you say

When Joker wants kisses, he will get kisses damn it

He’ll kiss you in front of Viktor which Viktor will mean mug Joker and just be on his way (“I refuse to be in the same presence as a couple of horn dogs”)  

It was an embarrassing first kiss

Knocking was heard throughout your apartment as you finished putting the food in the oven. ‘Well they’re early..’ you thought before yelling out a “Coming!” to acknowledge the people on the other side of the door. Making your way to the front door, you took a deep breath to calm your excitement before opening the door to see your boyfriend (and his associate of course).

Joker held a mischievous glint in his eye as he observed your elated form. Originally he leaned down to give you a kiss on the forehead and hug...however, he changed his mind mid-action. Instead, Joker found his lips meeting yours in an innocent little kiss. The same little kiss soon started to become heated as he pulled you flush against his body. The party only stopped when a loud “AHEM.” broke through the trance you two were in. Immediately you had let out a sound to signify your embarrassment and let the two men in. You were never gonna be able to live this one down, you could feel it in Joker’s piercing gaze on you.

Every time you two kiss, you can literally taste the adoration he has for you on his lips

Each kiss is remembered, either from a strange situation that brought forth the kiss or little quirks that happens during the act

What can he say? The man likes to keep you on your toes

Speaking of keeping you on your toes…

Obi is definitely the type to pick you up, spin you around and kiss you

It both shows off his strength and he gets a kiss from the love of his life, he will continue doing this until he no longer can

He’s also the type to kiss any body part that you’re insecure of

Got a lazy eye? Here’s a kiss on the eyelid of said eye

You got rolls? He’s kissin em (and may even leave a mark there or nibble them)

Your hands are full of scars and thighs full of stretch marks? Here’s a shit load of kisses

Obi likes to pick you up, sit you on countertops/surfaces and kiss you (you can’t change my mind)

It was totally and completely unprovoked when Obi had decided to pick you up. Where he was taking you, you hadn’t a clue. However you got a nice view of his backside—so this was a fair trade right? Just as you were reaching to grab his golden buns, you were sat on top of your kitchen’s countertop. Questions of ‘what in the hell does this man have planned?’ And ‘I should be surprised but I’m not’ filled your mind. Keeping a steady gaze on Obi’s own golden orbs, the both of you engaged in a staring contest. Another thing that was triggered unprovoked. Yet, when you blinked Obi’s face was getting closer to yours, and the next thing that you know you guys are kissing--making out even. In the kitchen, with the rest of the brigade waiting on the meal. That you guys were supposed to be cooking. Oops.

You guys got caught by Hinawa and were scolded to high hell and back about wasting other’s time

He likes to give you the look (*exhibit a: his banner) right before he swoops in and kisses you

He knows it makes you weak in the knees and he is 10000% using that to his disadvantage

If you wear lipstick/lip gloss he loves the little lip marks you leave on him

Giving him forehead kisses, kisses on the corner of his lips, or a kiss right between his eyes makes him blush so badly

He thinks it’s so precious you kiss him there especially when you pair it with an “I love your golden heart but please use your head ya damn himbo”

Gives the man butterflies

He will smother kisses all over your face, anytime he has an opportunity and you guys always play fight so you can get away from his ‘attacks of love’ (I’m literally so soft for this man, why ain’t he real)

He will hold in such a warm and secure hold every time you guys kiss

Kisses are also a good distraction for him because he’s always thinking about how can he improve, what can he do to further the brigade 8’s cause, missions, past missions, is he doing the right thing?

One kiss will help soothe his running thoughts and bring him back to reality

He loves them so much

Can’t resist your puppy dog eyes when you want to kiss him (he’ll only supply you a simple peck but back to the mission with you sunflower!)

Often gives you a forehead kiss after every mission is completed and everyone is loading into the truck

Will lightly tease you if you can’t get enough of his kisses (which is completely understandable cuz me too)

His lips are soft and they don’t taste too sweet, it’s like a fruity mint taste (like that ice breaker candy) but he loves dragging out kisses into makeout sessions

Obi is the type who will show affection in public and if a quick kiss in the alleyway leads to a makeout session….well he’s not complaining

He will want to hurry and get home though

#fire force imagines #fire force imagine #fire force fanfiction #fire force x reader #obi akitaru #Obi x reader #Obi imagines #Obi imagine #Akitaru Obi x reader #Fire force joker #Joker x reader #Fire force joker imagine #Benimaru shinmon #Benimaru x reader #Benimaru imagine #Benimaru imagines #Joker imagine

[walkerwords]

“The Bowman’s Sister” Part 3 of 4 - Daryl & Sister!Reader

GIF CREDIT: AMC

PART I  PART II PART IV

Word Count: 3030

Daryl Dixon & Sister!Reader (Rick x Reader in future)

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “World Gone Mad” by Bastille

Note: I didn’t put a summary on this one cause it’s def a filler chapter. I don’t remember who exactly gets bit during the flu pandemic thing in the cell blocks so I made it pretty vague. All i really wanted to do here was touch on the friendship that is growing with Rick and (Y/N). The next chapter will have some violence etc since one eyed wonder makes a reappearance. 

-------

You jogged down the stairs of the watchtower, passing Tyreese on the way as he headed for his shift. 

You had finally convinced Carl to get some sleep after you kept finding him hiding away in the tower in the middle of the night. He agreed to let you keep watch as long as you taught him to use a bow. You felt that was a fair trade so you had agreed.

You and the younger Grimes had bonded pretty quickly. He reminded you of how Daryl was as a kid. Always running around getting into trouble and making sure everyone was okay. You could tell he was developing a hard exterior but still had that childlike innocence when holding his baby sister or tending to anyone who was hurt. He had a lot of his dad in him and you figured the rest was his late mother and those who were helping to raise him. 

You decided early on that Carl Grimes would be someone you’d lay your life on the line for and not just because he was a kid. But because he was one of the only good ones left in the world. 

Walking back towards the cell block, you ran into Rick. He was coming out of D when he spotted you. He gave you a quick wave as you made your way over to him. “Another late night?” he asked, fatigue weighing on him clear as day. Since the run that you, Daryl, Glenn, and Rick had gone on, you had noticed that he was distancing himself a bit more here and there. When you asked Daryl about Rick’s odd behavior at times, he just shrugged and told you that sometimes the new world screws with people. You decided not to push it further. 

“Just tryin’ to earn my keep,” you said to Rick, stretching out your shoulders. Rick nodded, looking past you towards the main yard. 

“You’ve been staying out late a lot lately,” he said. “Sleep is actually a good thing, you know?” he joked. You chuckled slightly. 

“Yeah, but if sleep won’t come, no point in tryin’ to force it when I can take over for someone who actually needs it,” you pointed out. 

“Like my kid?” 

“He’s not invincible even if he thinks he is,” you said, tilting your head up to look at the night sky. 

“Thanks,” he said. You look back to him. “He doesn’t listen to me much anymore, so it’s good you can get him to get some shut-eye.” You shrugged off his thanks. 

“Boys his age are always rebellin’,” you said, “I doubt that’s gonna change in the Apocalypse.” Rick laughed, running a hand through his messy curls. The two of you started to walk. You didn’t have a particular destination in mind, but you didn’t care. It was nice to just be outside, safe, and having a conversation. You talked about everything from what the two of you did before the Turn to why he decided to use a prison as their new home. 

“It wasn’t easy,” Rick said, “We slept in the main field the first night. Cleared it of Walkers and then dealt with the rest of it the next day.”

“You know what? I’m surprised more people didn’t think to head to a prison in the first place. Or at least an abandoned one,” You said. “Hey, I bet Alcatraz is a hit right now.” Rick laughed at your joke, smiling wide.

“It is on an island,” he pointed out. 

“Exactly. Do you think Walkers can swim?”

“Oh god, I hope not,” Rick said, eyes wide in mock horror. “That’s the last thing we need.” You laugh, trying not to imagine Michael Phelps going full 2000 Olympics while gnashing his jaw. 

“Where did that word even come from? Walker?” you asked, remembering how weird it was to hear that first night in the cell block. 

“I heard it shortly after I woke up in the hospital,” Rick explained, “A man, Morgan, he saved my life and that’s what he called it when he shot it in the street.” 

“Hospital?” you asked, confused. 

“Yeah, I was shot before this all happened,” he said, gesturing around. “I was in a coma and didn’t wake up. My partner tried to get me out, but he had to go save Lori and Carl, make sure they were safe. He thought I died, you know?” 

“I would have thought the same thing,” you said, “you’re a lucky son of a bitch. Must have been terrifying waking up to all of this.” 

“It was...disorienting. I thought I was in Hell. Then when Morgan explained to me what was going on, I couldn’t believe it. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes…” he trailed off. “But then I met Glenn in Atlanta and he brought me back to my family.”

“Crazy how sometimes you just meet the right people at the right time, isn’t it?” you said, looking at him in the dark. He looked at you and smiled softly. 

“Yeah, it is,” he was quiet for a moment before he noticed the ring that was still on your finger. You twisted it around with your thumb absently. “You know, if you ever want to talk about him, I’m here,” he said, gesturing to the ring.

“Thanks,” you said. “It’s funny, I haven’t actually spoken about him since he died. Nobody to talk to and I know that’s why Daryl worries about me. He doesn’t get why I don’t want to talk about them, but I just don’t know what to say. It’s not like I can change anythin’.”

“No, but maybe the more people who know about them, can help keep their memory alive,” Rick offered. You thought about it for a moment before nodding, more to yourself than him. 

“Thanks, Rick,” you said. He reached over and squeezed your shoulder briefly. “And that goes for you too,” you finished. He let out a breath and nodded as well, already understanding what you were offering. “You know, being out here, it reminds me of when Merle was locked up the first time,” you said, changing the subject. 

“The first time?” he asked. 

“Oh, yeah, my big brother was the biggest pain in the ass. Especially when it came to the county sheriff,” you laughed. “The first time, he and Daryl were being idiots as usual. I was at school, I think, and the boys decided to race motorcycles down by the tracks. Merle’s moronic friends were tryin’ to get Daryl to steal a bike nearby. I think it belonged to some kid that was a few years older than Merle. Daryl, of course, wanted to do it so he seemed cool in front of Merle’s asshole ‘friends’, but big brother said no and that he would be the one to do it.” You smiled as you thought about the day you got the call from Daryl who was concerned about the whole thing. “Turns out the owner was actually home and the bike was a lot more expensive than everyone first thought.”

“And let me guess,” Rick interjected, “Merle broke the bike.”

“Along with three bones and a bunch of other property damage and that was before he even got back to the tracks,” you said with an exasperated sigh. “Dad was pissed and since Merle was eighteen, he got charged and booked. I took Daryl to go see him while he did his time. Never liked bein’ near jails. Pretty ironic I’m living in one now.” You laughed quietly to yourself, but then you realized Rick was quiet. You looked at him, trying to see his face in the dark. “What is it? Am I really not that funny?” you tried. Rick cracked a small smile before it disappeared again.

“No, that’s not it,” he said before taking a deep breath. “I guess it’s just weird hearing about your brothers when they were younger.” Rick rubbed the back of his neck before glancing at you. His face was solemn and something was clearly bothering him. “I’m sorry about Merle.” 

“That wasn’t your fault, Rick. Daryl told me what the Governor did,” you told him, but he was shaking his head. 

“No, not about...not about that. I’m sorry about leavin’ him in the first place,” he said, but you were confused. 

“What are you talkin’ about?” 

“Daryl didn’t tell you about what happened in Atlanta?” you shrugged. 

“He said y’all got separated after you ran into a large herd. Daryl said you went back for him, but you couldn’t find him. I’m surprised you even did that, from what Carol and Glenn said, Merle was very...Merle while stayin’ with ya.” Rick nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground. 

“It was my fault,” he said softly, the toe of his boot digging into the gravel.

“What was?” you asked, your voice low as well. Rick finally looked up at you and that weight was even heavier in his eyes. “Rick, what happened?”

“Merle was out of control,” he explained, “he was shootin’ Walkers on the rooftop, the shots bringing more and more towards the building we were in and he was just runnin’ his mouth. Kept mouthin’ off to another guy we were with, using slurs and whatnot.” You sighed at the information. You knew Merle could be a complete asshole, especially if he was using, and based on what Rick was saying, that was definitely the case. “He got into a fight,” Rick continued, “he was gonna get us killed so I handcuffed him to the roof, to one of the pipes. When we went back to get him before we left, one of the men, T-Dog, he dropped the key and…”

“You had to leave him,” you finished. Rick nodded, his hand coming up to rub at his brow. 

“We went back for him, I swear,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours, “but he was gone when we got back up to the roof. He had cut his own arm off to get out of the cuffs. He made his way out of the city and we didn’t see him again until Woodbury. I’m sorry, (Y/N), if I hadn’t of cuffed him to that roof, he may have been alive right now.” 

“Or he would have pissed someone else off and gotten himself shot or gotten too high and stumbled right into a Walker,” you told him. “I loved my brother, with everythin’ I had, but I wasn’t blind to his idiotic tendencies. Daryl either. We both knew how reckless and stupid Merle was. Hell, if I had been on that roof, I may have done the same thing. You were fightin’ to survive, you don’t have to apologize for that.” Rick stared at you in complete awe. 

“How can you be so...okay with all of that?” he asked. You reached out and took his hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Because I know you didn’t intend to leave him to die. I can tell you that much. I’m rather good at readin’ people,” you said with a small smile. 

“Because you’re a shrink?” he asked, his shoulders dropping a bit more. 

“Because I pay attention and I know who’s good and who’s not and you Rick Grimes, are one of the good ones,” you said. “So, don’t apologize. At least not to me. You have to start thinkin’ about what’s next.”

“And what is next, (Y/N)?” he asked. 

“I haven’t quite figured that out,” you said, letting go of his hand, “but when I do, I will make sure to tell ya. Deal?” He nodded. 

“Sounds good to me, Dixon,” he said with a smile. You smiled back and before you said anything else, a scream echoed from the cell blocks. You and Rick looked at each other before taking off towards the block. Rick pulled his gun as he ran and you cursed yourself for only bringing your knife with you. You pulled it from your belt as your boots pounded against the ground. 

You both reached the block just as a Walker stumbled out of a cell, it’s face covered in fresh blood. Two more followed, reaching for your friends as they fought them off. Stabbing the closest one in the head, Rick shot the others that reached for a scared woman. 

It was chaos in the prison as people screamed and the Dead rose. The noise only agitated the others that pressed against the fences outside. In the dark, you split off from Rick, searching frantically for your brother. You didn’t know if he was on watch or if he had gone off on his own. You were just praying that when you found him, he would still be breathing. 

You ran through the corridors, looking for Daryl. The gunshots from the block had finally calmed down, but you could feel the fear in the air. Your mind raced as you tried to think of ways that the Walkers could have gotten into the block. You and Michonne had just checked the tombs that morning, securing the entrances. Then there was the fact that the individual blocks were always locked just in case. 

Gripping your knife, you ran back down the hallway and pushed through the metal door, exiting into the night air. Suddenly, something grabbed your arm and you raised your blade, ready to drive it home. “(Y/N)! Stop, it’s me!” your arm froze as you focused on Daryl. He was breathing heavily as he looked at you. You relaxed, pulling him into a hug. He hugged you back, squeezing you tight. 

“You okay?” you asked as you stepped back, checking his exposed skin for bites. 

“M’fine, you?” 

“Yeah, just a bit out of breath,” you said. “What happened?” 

“Looks like some kid got sick, died in his sleep. He turned and bit others.” 

“Our own people were the Walkers?” you asked, sheathing your knife. 

“Ya,” he said with a frown. 

“Shit, that’s rough,” you said. Daryl nodded in agreement, before grabbing your arm. “What are you doin?” you asked as he dragged you toward the administration building. “Daryl?”

“How do ya feel? Ya feel sick?” 

“No, I feel fine. Where are we goin’?” 

“Whatever is goin’ on, I’m not lettin’ you get it,” he said as he pushed into the building. Carl was already there, holding his baby sister. 

“So you’re taking me to an abandoned hallway?” you asked, confused. 

“We need meds,” he said. “Till we get em’, yer stayin’ in here,” he said, finally letting you go.

“You’re puttin’ me in quarantine?” you asked, your brows going high. 

“Damn right I am,” he said, handing you his spare gun. “Ya never had a good immune system to begin with. I ain’t takin’ any chances.”

“Daryl‒”

“Nah,” he interjected, “yer gonna listen to me for once, (Y/N). Don’t try to play big sister right now. Just do this one thing for me and stay here, alright?” You wanted to argue, but then he said something that made you shut up. “I can’t lose you like I lost Merle.” You sighed and nodded. 

“Okay, Daryl,” you said, moving the loose strands of hair from his face. “I’ll stay with Carl,” you promised. “Just come back in one piece,” you said, already knowing he would be one of the first to volunteer to go look for the meds they needed. Daryl nodded and kissed your forehead. He then turned to Carl. 

“Watch out for my sister, kid,” Daryl said. Carl nodded, standing up a bit straighter at Daryl’s words. He squeezed your arm once more before leaving the building and locking it behind him. 

“Guess it’s just you and me, Grimes one and two,” you said, sliding down against the wall. You sat, letting your legs stretch out in front of you. Carl joined you a second later, carefully resting Judith in his lap. 

“Shouldn’t it be Grimes two and three?” he asked.

“Nah, you two are definitely the top two Grimes in my book,” you said with a small smile. Carl smiled up at you before playing with his sister’s little hands. “Don’t worry about her,” you said, easily reading his expression, “she’s a lot stronger than she looks. She’s gonna be fine.”

“How do you know?” Carl asked, his voice a bit smaller than usual. 

“Didn’t Daryl tell you?” you asked, gaining his attention, “I’m psychic,” you whispered. Carl rolled his eyes but laughed nonetheless. 

“Maybe psycho, but not psychic,” Carl joked. You placed your hand on your chest in surprise. 

“Wow, Grimes, never thought you’d be so cruel. I don’t know how our friendship can survive this.” Carl snorted at your words. 

“Didn’t realize we were friends,” he said, still smiling. 

“And I didn’t realize your daddy never taught you to be nice to people who teach you valuable skills,” you said, nudging his foot with yours. 

“I’ll work on it,” he said just as Judith yawns. 

“I agree with her,” you said, leaning back and closing your eyes. “Judith has the right idea.” You then felt Carl shift next to you, leaning into you and putting his head on your shoulder as Judith lay across both of your legs. You didn’t open your eyes as you sat with the Grimes children. Your lack of sleep lost the battle with your worries about Daryl and the sickness that had come to the prison and soon the three of you were sleeping peacefully. 

At the end of the hallway, Rick peered in through the window and watched as you held onto his kids, protecting them and offering them security. He wasn’t the best at trusting people in this new world, but he liked you and liked your spirit. It was easy to be your friend and he loved how easily you and Carl bonded. He only hoped that you would be around for them and Daryl. 

However, unbeknownst to him, things were going to get much worse and very soon and it wasn’t just a virus that crept up on the prison, but an enemy that lay in wait. 

#the walking dead imagines #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #twd #twd imagine #daryl and sister!reader #reader insert #walking dead prison #walkerwords

[crescent-woods]

sprint fic - contractual obligations

[ this was written for the LBSC sprint fic challenge! basically, i wrote it in 3 15-minute bites and then edited. the prompt was “Sorry… sir… the contract says I need to sit in your lap.” warning for creepy guys being creeps if you don’t wanna read that (just a couple comments). ]

ao3

Marinette looked over the partner listings for the class’s newest assignment. She hoped, for once, that she could have a decent and respectable partner instead of one of the slimy boys she’d been stuck with in the past weeks. 

But who’s name was marked next to hers this week? Simon Boucher. Of course. Why would fate want to spare her?

She was starting to wonder why she had even added a modeling minor with her degree in fashion design. In theory, it would have been good insight into the people who would be wearing her designs, so she knew all the details of how modelling comes to be. She could run her own business someday, knowing how poses, outfits, and chemistry worked together would make her a better designer. Although she was starting to wonder if it was worth dealing with all the immature “men” that came with it.

Sure, they were all stunningly gorgeous, that was practically a requirement to be in the program. But they never quite acted how she expected men of their age to behave.

Of course, just as there were bad apples, Marinette did have to admit there were a few she really did enjoy. A blonde guy, what was his name? Alex? Aiden? Adrien? A childhood model or something. He was respectful. Sometimes stone-cold and distant, but she supposed that was better than slimy and aggressive.

Marc was wonderful, too. Terribly quiet, but as soon as you saw his face? Knockout. Heart eyes personified. A puppy in a trenchcoat. Marc was one of her favorite guys to partner with, even Madame Arpin agreed in her performance reviews. Marinette didn’t think she had ever heard a bad thing about Marc’s shoot behavior.

Marinette had to admit, as much as she respected Adrien and loved Marc, Luka was by far her favorite to partner with, though. He was nowhere near as innocently peasant as the other two, but charming in his own way. Constantly edging the boundaries just enough to stand out, but not to be rejected. She could barely keep a straight face when he was her partner because he would never shut up with his stupid jokes and romantic quotes. 

There was something about Luka’s lovey attitude that charmed the heck out of her. Lord knows she didn’t need another distraction during school, but she couldn’t help it. Her knees went weak when he called her gorgeous and looked at her with that smile and – 

“Hey there, doll. Glad to be working with you, huh?”

The voice came from behind her. And she knew who it belonged to before she even turned around. Only one particular man talked to her like that.

“Simon! Hi. I have to go, I still need to head back to makeup and wardrobe. I’ll meet you on set?” 

His eyes roved over her body, as if he were imagining just how she would look in their lingerie assignment. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you out there, sweet thing.” He left with a wink and another look-over.

Wonderful.

***

“No, Marinette. Slide closer. I need you guys to be close together, really sell the couple vibes,” their photographer, Jaques, called. Marinette pressed her shoulders against his chest, trying her hardest to keep as little contact as possible while still meeting the brief. 

“No. Closer. Simon, wrap your arms around her.” A beat. “Yeah, good. Marinette, I still need you closer. Look like an intimate couple, not a blind date.”

Marinette shuffled again. 

“Mar-” Jaques sighed. “You know what, this isn’t working. Let’s take a break. Chill out, get in the mindset. I need to talk to Madame Arpin.”

Faster than was might have been professionally acceptable, Marinette slid off of Simon’s lap and grabbed the fluffy robe a photography assistant was holding out for her. She wrapped it around her body and headed to the break room without stopping for anyone. Hoping the stars could align for once and it would be empty so she could relax for the smallest second.

Of course it wasn’t. Although she certainly didn’t mind the company of its sole inhabitant.

“Hey there, how’s your shoot? You’re with… Marc, right?” Marinette asked as she slid onto the stool across from Luka Couffaine.

“Hey, Gorgeous. He left a few minutes into makeup, some sort of migraine he thought he could work through. Obviously,” Luka shrugged, “he couldn’t. Not that I blame him, he looked like shit.”

“Oh no,” Marinette pouted. “I’ll have to check on him later. I heard he had a rough time last week, too.” 

There was a beat of silence as they sat comfortably. “But at least you get some free time,” Marinette added. “Write some music in your head, or whatever you musicians do in your spare time.”

Luka laughed. “I don’t know what spare time you mean, Gorgeous. Between this, working at the flower shop, and babysitting tiny Ivy, I don’t remember the last time I could just create. You probably know how that can feel.”

“Hmm, should I stop talking, then?”

“Oh, no, Melody. I would rather listen to your voice than the grandest symphony. At least then, I would never get tired of hearing it,” he gave her a Luka Original smile.

Marinette turned red as the set she was wearing under her robe. “That’s so not fair, Luka! You can’t just say things like that!”

He kept those mesmerizing eyes on her. “Whatever it takes to keep you talkin’, Gorgeous.”

“I swear, one day I’ll out-swoon you. Then you’ll know what it feels like!” Marinette laughed.

“You make me swoon every time I see you, though.” 

She flushed darker and grumbled as Madame Arpin slammed open the break room door.

“Marinette, Luka. Up front. Now.”

“Oh shit. Did you do something?” Marinette shook her head. “Well, I don’t think I did.”

They followed her to the open area in the center of the studio, where they found Jaques and Simon waiting.

“Simon, Marinette. I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but this partnership isn’t working. You’ll be switching partners. Luka and Marinette, you’re good to go with Jaques.” Luka bumped her shoulder with his own. “Simon, you’re going to be with Luka’s partner, Marc. I hope this arrangement goes smoother.”

“I’m what, ma’am? You told us you would never split up assignments! It’s not fair that I lose my rotation with Marinette!”

“Partnerships for assignments, yes. But this is also a client’s product. One that we are being paid to shoot. You know that. Go back to your station Simon, and Martin will fill you in on shooting with Marc.”

Simon gave one last glare to Madame Arpin and Luka before stomping off.

“Well, Gorgeous, I guess we’re gonna have some fun.”

“Yeah, but remember. I’m contractually obligated to sit on your lap, funny boy.”

“Even better,” he murmurs.

#endgame lukanette #luka couffaine #lukanette #luka x marinette #lukanette fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculousladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #sprint fic #peachy fics #we apply prompts liberally here #LBSC Sprint Fic Challence #pro lukamari

[madtype]

Cabaret Club Czar Training - YUKI (Part 4)

yuki’s training continues! this time she and majima discuss personal improvement, unsuccessful job hunting, and how yuki ended up as a hostess.

highlights: - majima being very kind and supportive to yuki regardless of the option chosen - yuki still being too nervous to even theoretically sit a job interview - majima making brazen assumptions about yuki’s love life...

full transcript under the cut!

---

MAJIMA: Okay, ready for another round of talking?

YUKI: Yes, please!

M: Wow, Yuki-chan. You've got those battle butterflies all sorted out, don't ya?

Y: Well, it is just you, Majima-san.

M: Hey, we'll have none of that, thanks.

M: Alright! I'm the customer, you're the hostess, same as always. Are ya ready?

Y: Yeah! Of course!

Y: Welcome to Club Sunshine, Yuki! I mean, customer!

M: ...We still ain't there.

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

Y: Majima-san, thank you for requesting me. It's pretty cold today, isn't it?

M: Hey, Yuki-chan. You're lookin' cute as ever today.

Y: Haha... Hahahahaha...

M: Yo, what's with the giggles? I'm tryin' to talk to you like a customer would.

Y: Oh, I'm sorry! Majima-san, when you're the one telling me I'm cute, I can't help it... Hahaha.

M: Well, whatever works. At least you're doing okay when it's me you're practicin' with.

Y: Y-Yeah. I used to get nervous even talking to you, Majima-san. But with your help, I feel like... I'm getting it now.

Y: Even the conversations with my customers are getting longer lately. I'm actually starting to have fun at work!

M: That so? What ya been talkin' about?

Y: Everything and nothing. What they've done recently, what they ate... Oh, and hobbies!

M: Hobbies? Yeah, I seem to recall yours was...

> Writing in a diary.

M: ...Writing in a diary, right?

Y: That's right! I've recently started keeping a log of the customers I get each day, and I note all of their unique qualities and conversation topics.

M: Ah, that's some nice dedication to your customers. Way to go, Yuki-chan.

Y: I know my customer service skills aren't that great yet, so I thought I'd do what I can to get better.

Y: Well, I'm still working at it. I know I've got room to grow.

M: Hey, that's some good stuff right there, Yuki-chan. You've come a real long way.

> Bonsai.

M: It was bonsai, right?

Y: Wow, Majima-san, you actually remembered I raise bonsai? That's amazing! I only mentioned it briefly, didn't I?

M: Heh. When you're working at a cabaret club, a steel trap memory is half the battle.

Y: That's true. I found myself forgetting little things, so I started keeping a log of my customers' unique qualities and conversation topics in my diary.

M: Ahh, so now you've practically got a case file on your customers. Way to go, Yuki-chan.

Y: I know my customer service skills aren't that great yet, so I thought I'd do what I can to get better.

Y: Well, I'm still working at it. I know I've got room to grow.

M: Hey, that's some good stuff right there, Yuki-chan. You've come a real long way.

> Reading self-help books.

M: ...Reading relationship self-help books, right?

Y: N-No, it isn't! I mean, I guess I did read one. Once.

M: Yeah, what was the line you fed me? “Meat and potatoes are the quickest way to a man's heart!” Somethin' like that?

Y: Ahhhhh! Seriously! Just forget about that, please!

M: Heh heh heh.

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M: So, the club's come quite a long way, hasn't it? And you've been here since the beginning to see it all change.

Y: Yes, right. I've only been here for six months, though. I graduated from college just this year.

M: Yeah, remember when this place had three girls in it, including you?

M: So tell me somethin'. Why's a girl like you working in a club like this, anyway?

Y: Th-That's because...

M: Last time I asked, ya clammed up just like this. Maybe it's time ya cleared the air.

Y: ...... (uehh..)

Y: I... I couldn't find a job.

M: Eh?

Y: After I graduated from college, my job search was going nowhere, and I couldn't find anything!

M: Really? In this day and age? Companies are practically hirin' bums off the street, and you couldn't get a bite?

Y: I-It's true! I'm a pathetic woman who couldn't get an offer from a single company!

Y: I do pretty well on written tests, but I get nervous easily, so I'm terrible at interviews. I'm not a good liar like most people are, either.

Y: *sighs* I'm a real loser, aren't I?

> They were clueless.

M: Lettin' someone like you slip through the cracks was a mistake, Yuki-chan. Those fool companies were clueless.

Y: What?

M: Look around ya. It's the times we're in. Everybody's dressed to the nines in lies and vanity, tryin' to one up the competition.

M: But you don't do that. You just put yourself out there the way ya are, honest almost to a fault.

M: I wanna work with people I can believe in. I'd hire an awkward gal who can't tell a lie over a buncha smooth-talkin' succubi any day of the week.

Y: Majima-san, you've made me so happy. I... faced a lot of rejection, but in the end, I'm glad I got to work here.

M: Really?

Y: Yes. Otherwise, I never would have learned to talk to people like this. And I met you, Majima-san, along with everyone else here.

M: Well then, I'm glad ya got rejected too. If you weren't here at the club, who knows what woulda happened.

Y: I'm glad I'm awkward.

> Honesty is a talent.

M: I'd say bein' unable to tell a lie is actually a pretty positive quality, Yuki-chan.

Y: What?

M: Look around ya. It's the times we live in. Everybody's dressed to the nines in lies and vanity, tryin'to one up the competition.

M: But you don't do that. You just put yourself out there the way ya are, honest almost to a fault.

M: I wanna work with people I can believe in. I'd hire an awkward gal who can't tell a lie over a buncha smooth-talkin' succubi any day of the week.

Y: Majima-san, you've made me so happy. I... faced a lot of rejection, but in the end, I'm glad I got to work here.

M: Really?

Y: Yes. Otherwise, I never would have learned to talk to people like this. And I met you, Majima-san, along with everyone else here.

M: Well then, I'm glad ya got rejected too. If you weren't here at the club, who knows what woulda happened.

Y: I'm glad I'm awkward.

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

M: So how'd it happen? I imagine ya musta met Youda-chan somehow, eh?

Y: Yeah. I was spacing out at a park by myself. I shudder to think what would've happened if he didn't approach me.

M: Interesting. I wonder what possessed Youda-chan to roll up on you.

Y: I remember him saying, “There's something brilliant within you! You're the kind of girl that only appears once in a decade!” That's Youda-san for you.

M: Oh. Uhh... I see.

Y: Youda-san is a really bad judge of character, isn't he?

M: Nah, nah, I disagree.

M: So, Yuki-chan, if you could get a normal day job now, would ya still wanna go do that instead of the cabaret club?

Y: I don't know. Until recently, I really wanted to quit this job, to be honest.

Y: But now, I want to see what I can make of myself at this club for a while.

M: I see.

Y: Of course, at some point I'd like to resume my job search and try to get an office job.

Y: But, this club is a comfortable place to be, and I learn so much every day. So I'm thinking maybe I should grow up a little more here before I start looking again.

> You gotta get sexier.

M: If that's the case, your next goalpost's gotta be sexiness.

Y: Me, s-sexy? Why's that?

M: Considering the world we live in, bein' sexy is a great way to land an interview. Women got some tools men don't, so ain't no harm in usin' em.

Y: I-I see. That makes sense. Maybe I failed my interviews because I wasn't sexy enough.

M: Yeah, maybe that was the problem. And maybe a bunch of other things, too...

M: Nothin' better than an interviewer flustered by a sexy woman, though. He's tryin' to ask ya questions when all he really wants to know is the color of your damn underwear!

Y: O-Okay! But I wouldn't want to answer that question...

> You can network here!

M: Ya never know, one of your clients could turn out to be a corporate manager.

Y: What?

M: If he likes ya, he might offer you a job right there on the spot. Haha.

Y: Whaaat? Though I guess that does happen in manga!

Y: Wh-What would I do? I'm getting nervous just thinking about it...

M: Hey, relax, Yuki-chan. Lay your best line on me.

Y: Wh-What can I do for you Mr. President... My name Yuki... It nice to meet you...

M: Oh man, you sound more nervous than a foreigner on her first day at a shady bar.

> I'll work ya hard!

M: Nice. But fair warning, I'm gonna put the screws to ya!

Y: Y-Yes! I'm looking forward to it! I'll work hard!

M: Heh. You've changed, Yuki-chan. Look at that confidence. I bet you'd ace a company interview now.

Y: R-Really? Heh heh... Hahahaha.

M: ...Just make sure ya don't laugh like that at the interview, or they'll boot ya right out.

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

M: Alright, let's call it a day. Good job, Yuki-chan.

Y: Sure. Thank you very much. Whew... Now I'm getting sleepy all of a sudden, now that I can relax. *yawn*

M: You gettin' enough sleep at night, Yuki-chan?

Y: Oh, y-yes. I just had an unexpected guest over last night, so...

M: Oh, I see. A late night guest, eh? Well, now.

Y: Huh? What is it?

> A lady needs sleep.

M: Nothin', nothin'. Just get your beauty sleep, Yuki-chan.

M: Lack of sleep's bad for the skin! And it's doubly bad if ya fall asleep on the job.

Y: Y-Yes! Thanks for your concern. They say nothing's more important to a woman than her skin, after all. And it would be rude to the customer. I'll be careful!

M: Yeah, nothin' wrong with going out for a night on the town. Just don't overdo it, right?

Y: Huh? Going out? I don't really understand, but, anyway, I'll get more sleep!

> I wish ya the best.

M: Well then, Yuki-chan, I wish ya nothin' but happiness.

Y: Huh? Wh-What are you talking about? I don't understand what you're getting at!

M: It's okay, it's no problem. A bit of a shame, I guess, but if you're happy, I'm happy too.

Y: Um, uh. Thank you? Well, I am happy. I guess I'll keep on being happy!

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

M: Okay, I think that'll do it.

Y: Th-Thank you for the lesson.

M: Sure thing. Good job.

#cabaret club czar #yakuza 0 #goro majima #yuki #club sunshine

[champion-of-thedas]

The Negative Arc of Ennio Salieri

After this past chapter of Eating Alone, I’ve thought a lot about Don Salieri and how I’m interpreting and writing him. Just a warning but this is going to be a loooong post. I actually rewrote it because I thought it was too long, and it still is lol.

I’ll start with a quick explanation of the negative arc for those not into lit analysis. Feel free to ignore this paragraph if you’re already familiar. The negative arc tells the story of a character that ends the story in a worse place than where they started. I would argue that many Mafia stories have these (Vito Scaletta being the foremost one that comes to mind). There are three kinds of basic negative character arcs: the Disillusionment arc (I’d argue this one for Vito), the Fall arc, and the Corruption arc. I feel the Salieri goes through the fall arc, which goes as follows: character believes lie, character clings to lie, rejects new truth, believes stronger or worse lie.

Let’s talk about the truth and the lie of this tale. The lie that Salieri believes is that he is better than Morello, which he has three reasons for. Those qualifiers that he sets up for being ‘better than Morello’ are being a competent business man, a father to his men, and a pillar of the community. We, of course, know he is exactly like Morello when the chips come down to it, but this is the lie Ennio convinces himself with (and does so for others as well). There is a slow decline over the chapters where his humanity hinges on two touchstones: Frank Coletti and Marcu Morello. These events are what challenge the lie.

Let’s look at how the lie is established and how he is presented in the first part (referring to the five groups of four chapters between the diner book ends). He wants to help out Tommy by giving him a loan and tell Morello that he can’t hurt the regular people in Little Italy, projecting a certain ideology to Tommy and the rest of the trio gathered. After Tommy and Paulie burn down the parking lot, Salieri talks about how Morello’s anger will burn out his brain (words implying that he’s like a child). Then, Salieri gives his rules for the neighborhood: no swearing (a very parent like guideline), no drugs (pillar of the community), and be careful with the police (trying to show caution instead of aggression; also gives the impression of ‘local, mom and pop’ compared to big shot Morello).  Next chapter he has Paulie and Sam show Tommy the ropes and gives explicit instructions not to be rough with anybody, although he probably was well aware that would happen anyway. Plausible deniability and showing how he “cares” for his community. Because we, the player, have very little evidence to contradict this notion, we are not aware of the lie that Salieri believes, but we do get to see the conviction with which he believes it.

The lie gets fleshed out with fair play. He is still concerned with his lie considering his conundrum with how to treat the other driver (Morello didn’t have the same concern and faced no consequences so either he has friends at the track too or that was never actually a problem), and he mentions how a lot of people in the neighborhood come to him for financial advice. The fact that he does this is meant to illustrate both his competency as a business man and the fact that the community trusts him. We skip ahead at to Better Get Used To It, and he is full of apparently righteous fury at the treatment of Sarah. He talks about how she is a daughter to him (father) and how people won’t protected by them and they’ll lose business, but if you stick around a minute you hear his rant about the hotel and how he feels like certain things are falling apart. Here and when they find out about Ghilotti in the next chapter, Salieri is furious, but it comes from his business sense. He is still concerned about the health of his organization, but it does foreshadow Salieri’s temper and ruthlessness when things don’t go his way. His behavior, especially when it comes to the hotel, indicates that he can be vengeful when the chips are down. Ultimately, this is still reinforcing the lie, but it allows us to see the cracks in it.

Here is when things start to get juicy and where Salieri chooses to cling to the truth. At the very beginning of part three, we get a long conversation with Frank. This is a meaty conversation, especially for the insight it gives into Salieri. Up until now, this kind of behavior has only been hinted at, never confirmed. We start off the next chapter with Frank mentioning that Salieri has been going over the books with him AGAIN. It’s a throwaway but becomes important later as it hints that Frank isn’t the person that botched that chapter’s job. His calm demeanor during the conversation is him still staying calm and business like but reflective. It is the opposite of the way someone would be expected to behave when they find out they’ve been betrayed. His contemplative nature and reflection on the dog, then calling his child self stupid, is him clinging to the truth. He’s saying, “I’m not that person anymore. I’ve grown.” Considering how Salieri (and even Tommy during the conversation with Norman) portray Morello as childish during conversations, establishing his maturity is important to Salieri. Tommy’s conversation with Frank has him talking about he is tired of waiting for Salieri to kill him, telling the player that if Salieri’s most trusted feels this way. The rest of part 3 is largely him continuing businesslike behavior (introducing Tommy to the safe cracker and the whole thing with Paulie and the whiskey deal), which is him trying to return to normal, like the whole thing with Frank never happened.

Then, the third intermezzo happens. So, a huge aspect of negative arcs is the fact that the character will have the opportunity to see the truth on multiple occasions and cling to their lie until the turning point occurs (which is different depending on the type of arc). Intermezzo 3 actually shows hints of it when we hear a very important line from Tommy: “And Salieri, he finally start talkin’ about gettin’ outta Morello’s shadow. Maybe buyin’ our own cops, our own politicians.” Salieri at this point, is continuing to act on the idea that he is better than Morello, but he’s moving himself to the point where he’ll be forced to see the truth. I won’t go further with this too much, but part four is just riddled with Salieri clinging to this idea that he’s better than Morello as time and time again things go wrong or they go right. His opportunities to see the truth come in the form of the violence he or his men inflict (in particular the occasion with Carlo) and the sheer amount of destruction that he orders. Note that the sheer violence of the war is staggering, and it starts because Salieri makes arguably a reckless move by putting a judge on the take without checking (at least checking well) if this person is on Morello’s take. Whether or not this would have happened with Frank, we wouldn’t know, but Salieri’s ambition starts one thing. Salieri might still not see the truth, but, if they couldn’t before, the player can. The biggest piece of foreshadowing in this part is the last line. “See you on the other side Marcu.”

The seeing the truth and rejecting it happens off screen. I’ve talked about what I think the turning point for Salieri and Tommy’s relationship is, and I feel like the rejection of the truth comes when Salieri finds out about Frank. In great contrast to all conceived previous behavior, Salieri has Frank and his entire family killed. During the first conversation with Frank, Salieri only specifies something should happen to Frank (and this is in contrast to the original game where he wanted to provide for the Collettis after Frank’s death). He has a moment where he could show mercy, leave Frank alone or just leave his family alone, and this is a direct hit to his lie, that he is better than Morello. At this point... Who does he have to be better than with Morello gone? He doesn’t have a person to compare himself to that makes him question his anger and he directs his wrath from there. Frank is a traitor, Morello is dead, Tommy is a traitor, Paulie is useless, and Sam is a soldier. He has no equal and no protégé. His lie is no longer that he is better than Morello. His new, worse like is that he is better than everyone, and this time it is not morally. He is in charge. Tommy talks about how Salieri acted like they “owned the whole damn town”, but it was really that he owned it. He didn’t have to bother with putting on airs after this. This is why the three stipulations dissolve. After election campaign, he loses some of the father to his men by deliberately leaving out information about the job and not worrying about the health of “his boys”. He’s bringing dope into the community, not worrying about his position as a pillar of it. The business sense stays only because it is his business that makes him better than other people. Even then, that goes a little bit out of the window when vengeance (because Sam never got information that Tommy and Paulie weren’t planning on cutting them in after the fact, either Sam or Salieri assumed) became more important and he decided to get rid of some of his most successful soldiers. We still see the truth in the end, that Ennio Salieri is exactly like Morello, but he was ultimately blind to it.

#long post #mafia remake #Mafia: Definitive Edition #mafia definitive edition #mafia de #mafia de fandom stuff #ennio salieri #analysis #I’m doing one for Vito after this when I have time

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

“SHOULD I TRY?”

Gilly Lopez x Reader

Serie Index. Chapter 2.

Word Count: 3.6k

Author comments:  I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. Gif isn’t mine. 

Tag list: @STARRYNITE7114 @CHIBSYTELFORD @DAZZLEDAMAZON @MARA-MPOU 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“She didn' called you, man?”, Angel falls down on the sofa, putting his legs on the table.

“Who are you talkin' about, uh?”, Traq asks interested.

“We met a girl last friday. She destroyed Angel's ego”. Coco laughs loudly having a seat at the left of Gilly. “Bonita y con carácter”. (Pretty and strong character)

“We all asked her for a drink, but she preferred our big guy”, EZ puts his hands on Gilly's shoulders to palm them, who doesn't look very delighted because he thinks you're not gonna call him. “I know her. Sometimes she buys at pops. Her name is (Y/N)”.

“She told me she works at a preschool. We can fin' her, if you wan', brother”. The proposition that Coco makes sounds crazy, 'cause he doesn't want to bother you and lost the least opportunity he can have.

Gilly sighs getting up refusing to do it. “Probably she only did it just to piss you off. I don't know why I have illusions”.

“C'mon, man! Don't treat yourself like that!”

“Yea', you're a good guy!”

“And pretty smart”.

“And you can fix everything. Literally. The man of the house!”

The guys try to cheer him up, but isn't enough. If he compares himself with them, he thinks that there's no game he can play. His insecurities and his poor self-confidence talk for him. ━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━ The ring above the door makes a soft sound announcing you, inside the shop. You're wearing a peaceful smile in your lips, waiting in the middle of the place to be attended. Felipe goes out of the warehouse, looking you through his glasses. He smiles too taking off the apron to hug you warmly.

“Que bueno verte, querida. ¿En qué puedo ayudarte?” (Good to see you, honey. How can I help you?)

“¿Crees que podrías darme el número de Ezequiel? Perdí mi teléfono hace unos días y necesito hablar con él”. (Could you give me Ezequiel's number? I lost my phone few days ago and I need to talk with him).

“Everything is ok?”, his voice turns worried, keeping his hands holding yours.

“Yes! Yes! We just... met last friday and I was talking with a friend of EZ. He gave me his number but... well, I'm a mess. What can I say?”

“Give me a second, sweetie”, he replies with a nod. He looks for a paper to write it, giving you once it's done.

“Me has salvado, muchas gracias”. (You saved me, thank you so much).

“Anything for you, mija”. ━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━ You feel ashamed. You have the phone in your hands and the chat with the Reyes opened. But you don't know how ask him for Gilly's number. They're gonna think you're dumb or something like. A heavy sigh goes off of your mouth, rubbing your eyes and laying the head on the sofa. Maybe it could be a good a idea go to the club. Well, everybody knows where it is. So, you're into it without overthinking.

You wear some comfy clothes; a jeans, crop-top and a pair of sport shoes. Light make up and the hair in a braid. With the headphones on, you walk out of home in your way to the MC. Walking helps you to think wich words you're gonna use to talk with him, now that you're sober and you feel a little shy. But arrive takes you less time than you expect. With a deep breath, you go to the junkyard's office because you know it's not allowed to follow the road to the clubhouse. A man with strange hands and a particular happy attitude receives you.

“Hi! Uhm... Is it possible to talk with... Gilly?”

“Oh, yes! You should be the pretty girl the guys talked about!” Your face turns with confussion while the man turns around to take the phone. “Pretty girl is here!” It's everything he says nodding energy. There's a small pause till he hangs up the call. “He's at the club. Come with me, I'll guide you, pretty girl”. (Meanwhile at the clubhouse).

“Yes, tell her to come”. Bishop hangs up the phone with a big smile in his face. “Man, this girl has two big balls”.

“Who is it, prez?”, Creeper asks.

“(Y/N)”.

Everybody at the room looks at Gilly, who is about to have a heartattack. The guys celebrate noisy palming his back, shoulders and nape. He's in some kind of shock, because can't believe you're there.

“I'll open the door, don't move”. Tranq laughs watching his facial expression, getting up of her couch.

“She is gonna freak out if she sees us all here”, Ez comments laying his back against the chair. You smile back with your hands inside the pockets of the jeans, following him downstairs. You can avoid to look everything around feeling a lot of curiosity about it. Only two minutes before findindg a metallic frontdoor with some mayans' symbols in it. It's opened by a man you didn't met before. More or less on his fifties, short hair and a lot of tattoos decorating his arms. His big. So big and tall he looks like one of those doormen of a nightclub. You're about to show him your identification to prove that you're an adult. But then, he smiles kindly.

“(Y/N), right? I'm Tranq. Welcome to the Mayans MC”. He's being courteus when he feels you're a little scared. Let's be honest. Nobody in their right mind would go to place where there are a lot of men, of whom you've heard that they traffic with drugs and kill people.

“Nice to... meet you”. This is everything you can reply, forcing a smile while he lets you some space to walk in.

There's a big yard with a boxing ring at the left and a sort of a parking where the motorbikes are parked. The house is in the middle. Blue walls and white fences, a little old. But you like it. Following the man, you decide to wait at the hall, outside, when he opens the door and you find the men in. Now you're more scared and start to think that you should have texted EZ. “Eh, Gilly, you have visit!” Tranq shouts, making you walk a step behind.

“My ego's still hurting!” Angel's voice appears in the middle of nowhere, causing everyone to laugh.

It wasn't a good idea to come. Maybe they were making jokes these days about you, like if you were able to be with one of them. Crazy thought. You sigh in silence, turning around to go downstairs, walking to the frontdoor. You wanna come home, feeling stupid like never before. You start to believe that maybe it was just a gamble to see who fucks with you first, and that's all.

“Hey!” Gilly calls you, trying to get your attention, but you keep walking. And he knows why. “Shit, Angel! I'm gonna fucking cut you into pieces!”

That sounds good, but you're not in the mood to stop, till he grabs you by an arm.

“Hey, wait! I'm sorry. He's an asshole”.

“It doesn't matter, seriously... I... I just... Forget it. I'm going home”. He stays on his feet looking at you incredulous, stopping you again.

“You came for a reason, don' you?”.

“Yes, before feeling like a clown to you all”.

“Wha-What?”

“I just... I just... lost my phone. And I went to the carnicería Reyes to ask for EZ's number, so he can give me yours. But then I thought ‘well, I could go and ask him, and maybe talk about something’, but... it was nonsense”. Your hands are gesturing more than normal, because you're upset and uncomfortable.

“To me has a lot of sense”. He purses the lips shrugging with the hands inside the vest' pockets. Has the same shy look he showed the night he asked you for a date. “Look, Angel has a big mouth, he doesn't thinks. But is a good guy. And you also impressed my boss. He thinks you're fucking crazy coming here”.

His last words make you doubt. Is it a compliment? The only thing is very cleat is that you want to hang out together, no matter the risks or the dangerous bullshit. And yes, maybe you're a little bit crazy, but that has its charm. You pull the long braid to your back without knowing what more you can say. “So... you still wanting my number?”

Of one of your pocket, you take the old iPhone you're using while have enough time to go and buy a new one. After type the pincode, you offer him with a softly smile. He holds it, moving his finger all over the small screen.

“Ready”. You listen, with your eyes in nowhere. Turning the attention to him you take it back. “What if... I pick you wednesday at seven?”

“Sounds good. I mean, yes, it's perfect”. The idea of having a date starts to be real and this gives you some nerves, like if you were a teen. “I live near of the bus station, we can meet there”.

“Great! I'll be at seven”. He repeats in case you didn't listen, before give you an unexpected hug. ━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━ You're not very convinced with the outfit, but seems like match the way he dresses. The long and vaporous black dress with white points, covering your knees and an opening to mid thigh and a neckline that highlights your clavicle. As shoes, one of those classic black Convers. Your hair is tie in a ponytail and the fringe perfectly blushed. Some light and natural make up finish it. You like it. You would use it to go out any night. And you hope he likes it too.

You're nervous feeling those butterflies people talk about, for first time since long time ago. With a small bag on your shoulder and a hand supported in, you walk with your eyes on your feet, taking your time till arrive to the bus station. It's almost seven and Gilly is there, when you're in the opposite sidewalk waiting for the green light to cross the road.

“Woah...” Is everything he says when you're finally together.

“What? Is it something wrong?” Your voice turn confused, looking your reflection on a big window some meters away.

“No, no! I mean... Woah, you look pretty”. He gets up from the hood of the car with a big and satisfied smile, before hugging you. He also kisses you loudly in the cheek, making you laugh.

“You smell really nice”. With a sigh, you confess.

“You like it?”

“Yes! A lot, actually”. Your cheeks turn into red ashamed, then he laughs back and it's a moment you would like to live forever.

“Ok, let's go. I thought could be funny go to the fair in Santa Madre. What do you think?”

“Yes! Sounds good! Never been there. At the fair, I mean”. You're talking too much, even your fingers are shaking softly. When you're about to take a seat, you find a medium wrapped box with a blue paper. “What's that?” You ask taking it, before get into the car.

“I don't know, take a look”. He shrugs innocently, taking his place next to you. The engine of the red Mustang roars with fury, starting to move at the same time you put the seat belt on your chest and waist. Leaving the bag on your foot, you unwrapped the present, finding one of the last iPhone they released. Your hands, holding it, fall on your lap.

“I can't accept it. It cost like... One thousand dollars, Gilly...”

“You can and you will. I want you can read my messages without gettin' blind”. He jokes on you, looking to your side for a while. You know there's nothing else you can say, so just simply hugs him and give a kiss on his cheek. “I didn’t know wich was your favourite color. I think you're more into green or purple, but I bought it white 'cause you look like heaven”.

“Dammit, Gilly!” You laughs again a little bit loudly.

“You didn't expected, uh?”

“No”. The laughter are matched inside the car, while you're opening to get the phone. It's really cool and you can't wait to change for yours.

“We can find a phone case in Santa Madre, if you want”.

“Yes! I don't wanna break it. And I'm also about to activate the findme! app. I didn't with my last one, but at least I have a backup of pictures and music”.

“I charged it for you, so you can configurate while where on the road”. ━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━ There is a lot of people in town. The night is falling on, the streets starts to fill with music, voices and laughs. It's beautiful than you could imagine. Everything seems so colorful with flowers of different types and size around the corners, decorating each lamppost in the main square. The fair gives you some melancholy about your life in Tijuana and his populars fairs in summer.

“You wanna eat somethin'?” You come out of your reverie when his voice claims your attention.

“Yeah, sure, uhm... What about that foodtruck?” You point it with a finger, some meters away. The smell of french fries with bacon and cheese is calling you. Your mouth waters.

“Pretty girl has decided”.

“Don't call me like that!” You laugh giving him a softly clap on his shoulder. “Who chose it, ah?”

“Actually, it was a thing between Coco and me. He called you ‘bonita’, I said ‘pretty’, and that's the story”.

“Good god, what a shame...”

“Oh, come! Si eres bonita, eres bonita”. He smiles at you, taking your hand to turning into your feet, while the skirt of the dress dance in the air for a moment. Unexpected, his arms ends on your shoulder, taking you closer to him. You don't wanna let him go and he doesn't seems either.

Waiting in line to order the dinner, Gilly's phone starts to ring. He takes out of the pocket rolling his eyes. You don't wanna see who is, but because of the reflection you read ‘Angel’. He makes you a sign with a finger, walkin away some steps to answer it praying for the MC doesn't need him this time. “¿Qué puedo servirle, señorita?” (What can I serve you, miss?)

“Oh, ahm... Dos cajas grandes de patatas con queso y bacon, por favor. Y... dos limonadas, gracias”. (Oh, ahm... Two large boxes of french fries with cheese and bacon. And... two lemonades, thank you).

Gilly walks next to you, holding the phone between his shoulder ans his ear twisting the neck slightly, to give you some money. You shake your head raising a hand, giving your credit card to the man who is attending you. “Is everything ok...?” You inquired low, waiting for the order.

“Just the guys wanting to know how is going”. He replies with the same low tone. Then, you point the phone asking him to take it. He looks at you with incredulity, turning his face into a gesture more funny. He gives it you without doubting.

“Hey, you asshole, if you keep botherin Gilly I'll destroy something more than your ego”. You've been so brave till you start to listen more than one laugh. The speaker in the other side is on. Shit. Your date is laughing too because your threat, taking the order and your credit card. “So... Now you... all know... Adiós! You hang up the call, putting the phone inside the pocket of his jacket with you lips pursed.

“They're gonna think I'm crazy”.

“Yep, but I like it”.

Finally you two seat on a bench, leaving the drinks between both. You're hangry, he's too, so eat in silence looking around you. But it isn't uncomfortable, you're having a good time.

“Where 'you from? 'Cause you don't sound like american”.

“Tijuana”.

“Really? So, you speak spanish”. You nod sipping of your lemonade, leaving away the empty box.

“Yeah, I came here two years ago for work. I teach spanish in a prescholar. It's kinda fun actually”.

“Bonita e inteligente”. He says proud of his accent and his words.

“What is your job supposed to be?”.

“I... I don't wanna... lie 'you, (Y/N)”.

“Then, make up the truth. You know, everybody talks in Santo Padre. Mayans MC makes the rules”. He sighs putting down his eyes, taking a time to choose the right words. He doesn't wants to scare you. His life isn't easy and maybe he hadn't cared before, until he met you.

“I'm a mechanic”, he says finally looking at you. “And... sometimes, I ship to other cities”.

“Like FedEx?” You joke, trying to ket him know it's ok. He laughs nodding.

“Yeah, but kinda... more dangerous”.

“So, you're the FedEx extreme, woah, sounds interesting”, you say resting one leg on the other, with the drink supported on your lap.

“I don't wanna scare you, (Y/N)”.

“I'm from Tijuana! How you could?”

“Ya' know... It's not actually the same...” Another sigh goes down. It feels like he thinks don't deserve something like you're about to create. “I would be okey if you don't wa...”

“But I want, Gilly”. You interrupt him, turning a few your body till you're face to face. “I want this”. Then, you point the small distance between both to highlight the reference. “And you don't have to tell me anything you want, or anything you can't. It's okey, Gilly. That doesn't count as ‘secrets’.”

“Okey, but if one day y...”

“I said no”. You take him with an arm on his shoulder to leave some kisses on his cheek. ━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━ The date was perfect. He also won you one of those big teddies of a dog; bigger than you. So you were walking to the car performing your best of Agnes with his unicorn (of Despicable me). He was laughing because it's one of his favourite movies.

The engine stops when you arrive to your house. Lights on. Your house-mates looks through the window with knowing looks. You lay against the seat asshamed, covering your face with both hands. You love Gilly's laugh, but there's nothing funny at this time.

“I would like to tell you to come, but... my own crew is waiting”. You say in a whisper with redded cheeks.

“Mine too, you know. So, uh... buenas noches”.

“Buenas noches”.

This is uncomfortable. The unknowing about kissing or not. You want. He wants. But it's the typical moment of two teenage with their first kiss. Gilly took the step of asking you out, so it's your time.

You press your lips against his and it takes just one second to make them fit in perfectly harmony, like two pieces of a puzzle. It tastes good, more than you can imagine. He leaves a hand on your waist pushing you softly next to him, while your hands travel to his nape. It feels better than expected, with your tongues fighting softly. And you only put yourself away when shortness of breath is too evident.

“Good night”. You say before giving him one last kiss and taking the huge teddie to walk back home.

#mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #gilly lopez x reader

[pynkhues]

i know that the audacity of what im about to ask is off the charts bc you're already too good to us, writing fic left and right and updating a lot soon but im SO weak over the parenting group!AU that im right here to beg for a snippet of it, if you feel like sharing!

Haha, the audacity is not off the charts at all! I can give you a snippet! Sorry it’s coming a little later – when you sent this to me this morning, I was like ‘oh god, everything I have is too ugly to post’ haha, so it gave me an excuse to tidy up a scene I’d drafted already which is fun! 

I will say as just a heads up, I’m operating now on a one-out-one-in system for multi-chaptered WIPs. So when I finish CYF (which is basically done, just got to post the epilogue!), I’ll be starting to post the pirate au, and when I finish See You in the Light, I’ll be starting to post this parents group au, and then finally when I finish If It Wasn’t for All the Lights, I’ll start to post the BDSM au! It’s probably a deeply flawed system, but it’s the one I’m going ahead with, haha.

Anyway! 

A snippet of the parents group au!

“C’mon, pop,” Rio grunts, trying to get the tabs free on the side of the diaper as Marcus kicks out his legs, squirming up the back of the change mat like he’s trying to slip up on out of the thing, and shit, the last thing he needs is the kid to smear Rhea’s Earth Mama Angel Bottom Balm up the back of his new hoodie.

“I have spare diapers if you need to borrow one,” Beth says at the change table beside him, having apparently gotten Jane into her new one in record speed, and Rio lets his gaze stick for a second, watching as she makes even easier work of getting Jane’s thrashing legs back into her pink polka dot leggings, like it’s nothing at all. It’s enough to make his jaw rock, his attention twisting back to Marcus, trying to get the tab unstuck again, but his fingers are still oily with the diaper rash cream, and Marcus’ face is gettin’ redder, and he just can’t get his grip.

He tugs Marcus back towards him, dropping a hand to his son’s belly, tickling a little to try and calm him down, even as he levels Beth with an irritated look.

“Yeah, what part of this looks like the diaper’s the issue?”

Somewhere outside, he hears her friend laughing, the sound loud and warm over the pinging arcade machines and the banging of the bowling balls hitting the polished floor of the lanes, the crack of one hitting pins, and - - and he ain’t being fair.

Knows that.

It’s not her fault he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

Still, when he glances sideways at her again, she’s unbothered by his tone – not pissed like Rhea would be, or wounded like his ma – and something about that bothers him more than it should. Instead, Beth shrugs, fixing her gaze back down on her daughter.

“It just looks like it’s one of those organic ones, right?” she says, gently lifting Jane to put her onto her belly for a few minutes of tummy time – just like Nance had told ‘em to in class – before turning to better look at Rio, her eyes tired as she watches him yank again on the tab of Marcus’ diaper. “I tried those with Kenny, and I just find the tabs always - -”

Riiiiiiiip.

He can feel his pulse in his throat as his cream-covered fingers clench around a handful of torn diaper, can feel it even harder behind his eyes, his blood thrumming hot beneath his skin and damn, it ain’t anger, it’s just - -

Fuckin’ exhaustion.

He pulls the diaper out from underneath Marcus’ bare, wet-with-diaper-cream ass and stamps his foot hard down on the peddle of the bin beside the change table, tossing the whole damn thing in with more force than necessary, and he’s expecting Elizabeth to have that look on her face again – that one that’s some mix of pity and judgement or even worry at seein’ a guy like him snap – but it ain’t even really a look at all. She’s just magicked up one of her kids’ diapers from that Mary Poppins bag of hers, and holds it out to him.

“If you loosen the tabs and open it up a bit before you get it under him it’ll be easier too,” she offers, and Rio grunts, plucking it from her hand and fixing his attention back on Marcus’ flailing legs, sucking in a breath to calm his frayed nerves, before gently lifting his son again to get the diaper up underneath him, adjusting it to get it in the right spot, trying to avoid Marcus’ kicking feet, and it’s just - - sudden.

That’s the thing.

Because Marcus’ legs calm down right in time with Beth’s arm suddenly pressing into Rio’s, and Rio blinks up to see Beth reached over and her finger is curled in Marcus’ tiny fish, and Rio tears his confused gaze away from Beth to look up and see his son smiling, that one that makes him look like the whole damn sun, and he keeps smiling, even when he shoves his fist – still clutchin’ Beth’s finger – right up into his mouth.

And he’s gonna stop it – ain’t like he loves other people’s kids chewing on his knuckles – but he finally gets Marcus properly into the clean diaper, and before he can do anything else, Beth’s just started talking.

“That is a strong grip,” she whispers, so quiet it’s almost like she doesn’t want Rio to hear, and her voice is light and bright in a way he ain’t really used to hearing. “And very warm slobber, which is what you want from slobber. I mean, can you even imagine cold slobber? Like a ghost. I will say Billy from class has some weirdly cold slobber, so you stay away from him, mister.”

Rio just - - blinks, his brow furrows, his lips parting, but when he opens them all the way, no words come out. Instead he just stands there like a dumbass, watching this woman half-bent over her kid and his at the change table of a bowling alley, her strawberry blonde hair falling down, concealing her face so all Rio can see is his son’s, and how whatever it is she’s doing makes his son happy, and he can’t really explain any of it, but he just - -

“Oh my god, Paulie! Twins!”

“Amber, don’t - -”

Whatever Paulie was about to say is lost to the rest of the parents’ room as Rio spins to see a skinny, leggy blonde thrust a toddler with milkshake-vomit down his shirt at some guy with frosted tips like this is the fuckin’ 90s, and dart towards them in a wave of too-sweet perfume. She’s so fuckin’ quick (or maybe just - - y’know - - awake given her kid’s old enough to vomit milkshake instead of formula), instantly peering over at Marcus and Jane on the change tables, an easier feat now that Beth’s standing up again, her finger reclaimed, rolling Jane back onto her back on the mat.

Amber’s cooing is instant, and Rio sighs, grabbing Marcus’ pants from where he’d slung them over his shoulder and starting to shake them out.

“Oh my goooodddd, they’re like those ones you see on TV! Paulie!! Look!! Like, one’s just like mommy, and one’s just like daddy.”

Which - - Rio blinks, looking sideways at Beth, who just seems to be watching Amber with that same neutral, Stepford Wife-look she gets in class. Rio sets his jaw, shaking his head, as he starts to bunch the pants up in his hands, ready to put them on Marcus, opening his mouth to correct the other woman.

“Nah, they ain’t - -”

“You think so?”

The words are offered so suddenly, so sharply, that Rio’s head spins back around to look at Beth again, his eyebrows raised at her interruption, but she doesn’t look back at him, just keeps her gaze fixed on Amber. She wrinkles her nose a little, purses her lips, before dropping a hand back to the change table while leaning forwards a little, almost conspiratorially.

“We’ve been thinking about signing them up for auditions, but I don’t know,” she waves a hand suddenly at Rio, who only blinks at her. “James here thinks it might not be the best idea.”

And okay, for starters, fuckin’ James? She really wants to play him like that? But also - - just - - y’know. What the fuck? Rio stares at her, taking in her widening eyes and her baggy mama sweater that does exactly zero to hide the fact that she’s stacked, but also the fact that she’s holdin’ herself kinda different all of a sudden. Like she’s caught him looking, her gaze darts towards him, and it’s so quick he almost misses it, the way she just sort of - -

Shrugs.

Rio scoffs a little – a sound Amber clearly reads as about the audition and not about this whole damn show – and turns around, putting on a smile for Marcus as he finishes bunching up the pants and pushing them up over his tiny feet.

“Men are always weird about this stuff, but you guys should totally be auditioning them! Like, I could literally see them in commercials for formula. You know they always put the cutest ones in them, because they want to trick regular people into thinking that their product’s gonna like, magic you a better-looking baby.”

Which - - look, Rio can’t exactly say it’s a surprise. He’s pretty sure his sister changed her kids’ brand of juice because one of the ads had one of the little girl’s playin’ Daisy Doctor instead of Holly Housewife. His thoughts are interrupted though when Marcus sneezes, and Rio leans over enough to grab a tissue from Beth’s diaper bag, vaguely aware of Paulie rounding the change tables for the sink, and tugging off his own kids’ shirt and it’s really only then that Rio realises he hasn’t even blinked at the smell of vomit, which - -

Okay, actually, that could be the fifteen years working in a bar.

“You know, I think I’ve heard that,” Beth says, and the girl makes a humming noise, her bowling shoes tapping a little on the tiled floor.

“Well, that’s an insider secret for you. I lived in LA for like, ever. It was almost two years. I mean, closer to one, but that’s basically 40 Hollywood years. I even once auditioned to play a mom in a Baby’s Only commercial. I mean I didn’t get it, but I think it was because I was like, too in shape, y’know?”

Which - - shit, Rio coughs a little to cover a sound he doesn’t even know, a laugh? A scoff? Why the hell is she even talkin’ to this woman?

“Wow,” Beth says though, her voice loaded with concern. “That’s gotta be discrimination.”

“I know right?”

And it’s Jane who wobbles at least, her bottom lip quivering, her legs kicking, and Beth turns around instantly, humming softly back down at her daughter, and before Rio can help it, his gaze darts over to her, watching as her face softens, her eyes glaze over, like they do sometimes, and he thinks of saying somethin’ to her, but shit, what? He doesn’t know jack about her.

A wave of perfume hits them again, and the second he finishes getting Marcus’ pants on, picks him up, turns around at the same time Beth does with Jane, Amber’s right in front of them, her gaze darting between Jane and Marcus, like she’s not sure which one to look at first.

Finally, she just sighs, clutching a hand forlornly to her chest.

“Like, I’m not even kidding. You made two really nice babies. Like, Paulie, tell them I’m not kidding.”

Over at the sink, Paulie grunts again, holding the toddler’s shirt under a furious stream of water, and Rio stares for a minute, watching the guy morosely clean up toddler vomit while the kid licks the rim of the sink. Rio resists the urge to gag as he bounces Marcus a little on his hip.  

“How’d you two even meet anyway?”

And at least that much he should’ve expected. Rio shakes his head, gaze fixing back on Amber, the words ready on his tongue, but before he can say a damn thing, Beth’s cut him off again.

“It sounds so weird, but it was actually at an underwater research center.”

Which - - okay - - what?

His gaze flicks back to Beth, but she ain’t looking back at him. She’s just got Jane curled into her chest, nestling her face into her breast, while Beth hums a little, just - - blatantly fuckin’ lying.

“I was studying - - ” outside, a bowling ball hits the floor hard. “How sound affects  - -“ she fingers her pearl necklace with the hand not clutching Jane, “Oysters, because I am a scientist, and James here was researching - - ” Beth’s gaze darts around, fixing on Marcus in Rio’s arms. “Marco Polo.”

Before Rio’s even had time to catch up to that, Paulie blinks up, confused, from his spot at the sink.

“In Detroit?”

It’s enough to make Beth stutter, her eyes blinking rapidly, and he really should just leave her to fix this herself, should leave her there gaping like a fish, scrambling for the tail-end of her own lie, and get back out to the group, but - - Rio sucks in a breath - - Marcus would be bare-assed right now if it wasn’t for her.

“Nah, man, west coast. We just moved back here to be close to family with the twins,” he drawls with a shrug, and maybe that makes it worth it – how quickly Beth reels around to look at him, and  - - shit, have her eyes always been that blue? Rio blinks, jerks his head back around to Amber, rolling his shoulders back to undo the sudden knot in them. “One of those things, yeah? We met workin’ out there, but turned out we were both from here.”

He means to leave it at that. Should, really, but all he can think about is her in class – prim and proper and that look again, like she’s judging him, and she got them into this, right? Before he can think twice, he drops his free hand to her lower back, smoothing it around to hold the soft hip furthest from him, smiling toothlessly as Beth stiffens and then pointedly, deliberately, relaxes, while Amber holds her hand to her chest again, hums an: “Aww, that’s how you know it’s meant to be!”

“That’s right,” Rio replies, and he watches Beth turn her face up to meet him, her gaze darting across his face like she’s trying to figure something out, and shit, he’s just trying to match what she’s laying down. After a moment, Beth spins into him, her free arm dipping around his back, and something in him sparks hot and he just - - he hadn’t known how fucking small her hands were until one squeezes at his waist.

“Right, honey,” she says, voice high and too-sweet. “I was just so lucky. And speaking of our families, we should really get back to them.”

After that, it’s easy enough to pack up the last of the diaper bags, for Amber to dip down to help Paulie and the kid, and for them to slip out again under the distraction, and it’s just fuckin’ weird, he thinks, to watch that little character Beth had invented – all ease and charm – slip off her shoulders like a cloak, and he means to let it go, because what skin is it off his nose if she’s some sort of pathological liar? But as they duck between the groups of sprawling teenagers and middle America families ordering fries and picking bowling ball weights, guys shoving each other at arcade games, and kids feeding quarters into claw machines, he just - - itches.

So maybe he steps a little slower, matching her pace, maybe he looks at her, amused, a little goading as he says: “So you in some secret, new mama improv group, or what?”

And Beth just - -

Shrugs, and shit, she doesn’t even look at him when she says:

“You don’t ever get bored of just being you?”

Rio blinks, his step slowing all over again, taking in her tired look, the diaper bag slung over her shoulder, that shirt she’s wearing, stained with grubby children’s fingers and milk, that damn new mama smell that’s always up his nose with her, and he just thinks - - nah, not really, but before he has the chance to say it, it’s like she’s read it on his face. She hoists a snuffling Jane up a little higher and moves faster than she has any right to. Back across the bowling alley, back into their lane, nestled in the shelter between her friend and her sister, away from him.

#parents group au #one day you will have a title #inyoursheets

[hrh-selene-r]

Luck be a Lady  (1/4)

Devil in a White Dress

The Logan boys have it in their heads a plan to rob the Charlotte Motor Speedway, but in order to do that they need someone with experience in breaking into a high tech vault. In their need, the Logan brothers visit non other than Joe Bang to recruit him into their heist. Problem is, they have to convince him; and knowin’ them Logan boys’ family curse, he ain’t gonna take no chances doing’ this without another professional. They need someone who can get into places and blend in, someone with experience who knows how to improvise and to tie up lose ends....Someone like you.

A short fic that started as a one shot and ended up being a short multi chapter fic, where our sweet boi Clyde, falls for a woman that’s more that what she seems. The question is, can he handle it?

Clyde x Reader

6.8k Words

Warnings: mentions of theft | Reader uses an alias

White

The room is an off-color white, not quite bright, as to somehow make it sterile, and cold. It’s the color of day-old snow on the pavement. Hell, even the chairs are a weird gray color, makin’ the room seem monochromatic. It’s all white, unsettling and uncomfortable.

He’s all too familiar with these walls and how isolating being here feels. Say what ya want, but six months under was enough to scare Clyde straight, and there ain’t no way he wants to come back here. But if he’s gonna do this, he’s gonna do it right. And doin’ it right meant getting someone who knows how to blow up a Bank Vault. Which, ironically, brings him here. The one place he doesn’t want to be in; with his brother, visiting none other than the famous Joe Bang.

Watching him eat a couple of hard-boiled eggs, and listenin’ to him talk about special salt for his blood pressure before finally getting to the part where his big brother Jimmy explains the plan to bust him outta jail in broad daylight, to blow up a bank vault, and get him back in jail before anyone notices.

At first, Joe can’t believe these two. How exactly are they gonna pull this off anyway? He chuckles at Jimmy Logan’s proposition, thinkin’ the idiots must have a screw loose. 

“You Logans, must be as simpleminded as people say.” Joe said all condescendent like.

“They say that?!” the brothers ask in unison; surprised and offended as they quickly look at one another before  turning back to a sniggering Joe Bang.

“Who?” Jimmy asks, not being able to let go of the slight tease.

In Joe’s mind, them Logan's plan was crazy, but it could work out. If the take’s good and the job seems doable, he might just be able to replace his stolen little nest egg, and then some. Amused, he decided it’s time to talk shop. “So what’s the take?”

“It’s bigger’n you can bury under an oak tree.” Jimmy assures him.

“And the split?” Joe asks back.

“Even Split.” Jimmy answers only to be rebutted immediately by Joe “No. No way.”

Why? Now Clyde’s Curious, he’s been lettin’ his brother do most o’ the talkin’, on account of it bein’ his crazy cauliflower plan, and all. “ Why not?” Clyde asks, confused; wantin’  to know why Joe didn’t think it was a fair deal.

Joe looks at him for a moment. “ I got a brother. I got two. I’d need ‘em involved to protect my interest.

“Fine.” Jimmy sighs, conceding to his demands, figurin’ that a smaller slice is better than no pie at all.

“Alright, What’s the location?” Joe asked them. Now he’s willing to play ball. They just gotta iron out how to actually make the plan work.

“Charlotte Motor Speedway.” Jimmy answered. Three words, no further explanation needed.

A pregnant pause fell on the conspiring men as Joe pursed his lips, giving out a deep sigh through his nose, and leaning back in his seat. 

Thinking his pause meant hesitation, Clyde started to get anxious. They needed Joe Bang, if they’d have any shred of a chance at pullin’ this dang thing off. He leaned forward in his chair and asked Joe “ Don’t think you can do it?” Challenging him and hopin’ he just might take his bait.

“Now I didn’t say that, did I?” Joe answered him defensively, his tone a warning to Clyde not to underestimate him but also treating him with respect; despite just practically offending him by doubting his skills. He has a reputation to maintain, after all.

“Then what’s the problem, Joe Bang?” Jimmy asks, growing impatient, not getting what Joe’s huffing about now.

Joe breathes out a huff, not believing these two idiots and the fact that he has to explain everything. 

“Before I take any job, I look at it the same way as it takes to make a bang: positive versus negative. Now you mix a little bit o’ this with a little bit a’ that and you get a reaction. A reaction is Power, but it’s moving fast and it’s moving away from ya and it keeps moving until it hits somethin’.” 

“Like a vault wall.” Clyde interrupts.

“Sure, like a vault wall. So, you wanna make sure you always get more positive than negative, or else ya gotta get outta the way fast….Pullin’ off a job like this; I gotta weigh in the positive versus the negative….You Logans can just think of it as a plus or minus..” Joe explains to the brothers, leaning back into his chair.

“We get positive and negative.” Jimmy answers him, irritated with joe; feelin’ like he runnin’ them around in circles with the whole dang explanation. 

“Okay, so it’s all cash, that’s a positive. But a place like the track?....It’s gonna have twenty times the amount o’ security of a regular bank, so that’s a negative, but there’ll be a whole mess o’ people walkin’ around there, and that’s a positive; it helps us blend in. There’ll be metal detectors and cameras, you know, recording every dang inch of the place. That’s a negative; we can’t bring anything through them gates. No explosives, no guns.” Joe thinks out loud listing off the various pros and cons of the job, mentally making a list to see what are the chances of them being able to pull off this job.

 “No, we don’t. We don’t want usin’ any guns.” Jimmy tells Joe, a bit flabbergasted, that he’s even considering such a thing. Never in his life has he held a gun to threaten anybody. Hell, he don’t even know if he’s capable of shootin’ at somebody. No, no guns. They just complicate everything.

“Absolutely no guns.” Clyde agrees resolutely, shaking his head while looking at Joe seriously in the eyes. It’s not that he’s not familiar or inexperienced. The mas is an iraqui war vet, for cryin’ out loud. He did two goddamn tours over there; of course he knows how to use a gun and how to kill someone. But there’s a time and place for everything, and he won’t kill someone unnecessarily if he can avoid it. He’s a vet now, and that time in his life is over, he’s a bartender, and a small business owner now. He knows what it’s like to kill and he ain’t gonna put that burden on Jimmy. No way, no how. So absolutely no guns.

At the brothers’ refusal Joe leans back in his chair and huffs a sigh from his nostrils. They just don’t make it easy, do they?  “Well, I guess for you Logans that’s a positive.”

“So you’ll do it?” Jimmy asks him hopefully; getting to the point of the conversation and the reason for their visit, wanting to get this over with; the more time spent here the more suspicious they look.

Joe on the other hand doesn’t hear him, he’s too busy still thinking about the job in his head. He has to make sure this’ll work out well, ‘cuz he ain’t doin’ nuthin’ to risk increasin’ his sentence, not when he is so close to freedom. So...he may have to outsource, bring out the big guns, so to speak.  “The problem, gentlemen, is security. We’d need to find a way to get in.” He explained slowly, his voice deep in his chest and rumbly as he concentrated in thought.

“Access.” Clyde elaborates, glancin’ at Jimmy for a quick bit.

“Exactly!” Joe points his finger at Clyde, eyes wide as someone finally gets it. 

Jimmy stares back and forth at both men. What was he painted onto the walls? “ I can get  access, I HAVE access.” Jimmy argues, not to be considered useless.

“You were just fired.” Clyde reminds him, turning to look at him. “ ‘sides don’t ya’ think it’d look suspicious if ya’ll went around snoopin’ for ways to access the tunnels or if you’re caught by the cameras creepin’ around?” Clyde asked Jimmy as if it was the most obvious thing, further proving Joe’s point. 

Joe leans back in his chair and raises his arms, palms up.  “He’s right. You’re too close to it, someone in security or a worker might recognize ya. We need to avoid exposing you to the staff as much as possible, particularly the staff that works in the tunnels that can recognize your face.” Joe scratches his growing stubble and begins to mumble as he thought of a solution. Well, we got no choice. We’ll probably have a better off chance of pullin’ this off with ‘er anyway. “ So…...We’re gonna need someone for the job…..”

“Who do you reckon?” Jimmy asks him.

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

Mercer County Airport wasn’t crowded, it was just not that modern, you guess, at least not compared to other places you’ve been. But what else could you say about the small County airport? Hell, if it weren’t because you owed Joseph Bang a favor, you wouldn’t have been anywhere relatively near West Virginia, let alone walking into a parking lot of an airpot there.

But, Life is a funny thing, it can take you to a lot of places you’ve never expected to be. And right now, life took you through an airport parking lot and to an old 1969 red Dodge Charger that was calling your name; conveniently parked in the lot, along with other vintage vehicles in good condition.

It’s true that it’s extremely out of the ordinary to see these types of cars together, let alone in the same lot, but you supposed that they’re probably cars on route to go to the auto show that was advertised in one of the touristy pamphlets you saw while walking out of the airport. Something about NASCAR. 

Must be your lucky day, because you can’t see a guard anywhere near here; in fact the whole lot seems to be devoid of people, and you’re not gonna look at gifted horsepower in the mouth.

You supposed with a smirk, that if you’re here for a job, might as well enjoy your time here. A bit of business with pleasure can’t go wrong. Still, Joe better thank you for the trouble that you’re going through, helping him out. The wind blew your hair over your dark cat-eye sunglasses while you try to subtly open the car door, being careful not to attract any unwanted attention. This job better be good, you inwardly complain as you open the bottom part of the dash, below the steering wheel, and start to hot wire the collectible car. You try to do it as quickly as you can, before the security guards can catch a whiff of you and send your cute little ass to jail before you can even hear Joe out.

That won’t do us any good. You wouldn’t be able to show off the cute little white dress you’re wearing, if you’re in a cell, after all.

Your giggles are drowned by the roar of the car’s ignition, as you start getting in, putting your travel bags in the passenger seat and adjusting your mirrors. Adios Mercer Airport is the last thing you think about before putting the car into gear and getting out of there.

Getting the window down, you can’t help the feeling crawling through your back and up your shoulders. It’s that feeling of freedom, of anything being possible as the wind blew threw you (H/C) hair, and the open road stretched before you as the car starts speeding.

Now, Joe wasn’t specific or detailed in his call. Actually, he was very vague. All he said was that he was calling up his favor and that he wanted me to be his brother Fish’s date for a fair that’s happening in town. Now, he wasn’t going out with Fish, that much she knew; if anything he was talking in code. The message was simple: “You owe me a favor and now I’m calling it. Come home, and look up my brothers, they’re the point of contact.” So she gave Fishy a call and set up a meeting at a bar called ‘Duct Tape’. So here she was, in West Virginia, going at 75 mph in a modified and revamped stolen Charger, with nothing but a gps set to take you to this so-called bar, and the open road.

You’ll have to be careful not to attract any unwanted attention, it can be a rural small town, but a cop, is a cop, is a cop. So you’ll have to stop by somewhere nearby to change the plates; exchange them with another car’s, and you better do it soon, you have an appointment to keep and an old friend to meet.

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

The air outside was a bit humid and calm tonight as John Denver played from the jukebox, Earl was outside havin’ his usual smoke, the ceilin’ fans are blowin’ air down from above to the drinking patrons, the clinks of glasses and crashes of the billiards table mixed in with the music. 

Clyde supposed he couldn’t complain, at least not for now, all he had to make sure was to get this heist over and done with, he thought as he cleaned up and rearranged some glasses in the bar. He was really just tryin’ to look busy, to not give away the fact that he was actually keepin’ an eye on Sam and Fish Bang while they played pool a few feet away. Now, he and his brother already talked to ‘em durin’ the county fair and got ‘em to agree to help ‘em out with the whole heist and all, so what were they doin’ here? ‘Cuz they weren’t exactly regular customers in his bar. 

It wasn’t until Jimmy walked in that Clyde finally got his answer. The brothers were waitin’ on someone. A colleague of Joe’s, he said; they’re supposed to meet up in this here bar to negotiate with Jimmy, talk shop as it were. Now, Joe was very clear that he wasn’t gonna do any plan or heist without another professional, to help out. So it’s not like they have a choice in the matter. They needed this guy on their side.

This, of course, left him a bit apprehensive. After all, he’s seen what Joe’s brothers are like. What would a friend of Joe Bang’s even be like? This famous so-called swiss army man. He was probably another convict or a thief. Clyde could picture it now; he’d most likely be a thought biker type of some sort, or a bearded tattooed man with a tear tattooed on his face, maybe someone with a penchant for violence….And they were plannin’ to meet in his bar, during his shift.

Great.

That is the last thing that Clyde needs in his bar. Plus, won’t it look suspicious if they’re seen associatin’ in an almost conspiratorial manner? The cops would find out. I’d be just his luck too if trouble comes his way because of this. He’s waitin’, afraid it’ll happen too.

The Logan Family Curse

He’s been hollerin’ in both Jimmy’s and Mellie’s ears about this, comin’ up on years now, but it’s just not goddang normal. Hell, he never takes his damn horseshoe ring off, just in case. Now, Clyde hasn’t always believed in the so-called family curse; he didn’t believe it in high school and he didn’t believe it when he did two tours in Iraq (otherwise he probably wouldn't ‘ve done them in the first place). 

But ever since the freak landmine accident that cost him his hand an’ part of his forearm, he couldn’t stop thinking that this kind of stuff just don’t happen to normal folk. So he started digging up info about his other family members, and bit by bit he started to put the pieces of this whole thing together. The proof that not only does he have the Logan curse on his head, but that it exists. Ever since then, he’s been wearin’ the same lucky horseshoe ring, thinking it’d be best to ward off any type of bad luck an’ evil out there as much as he can. 

It’s just not smart to tempt the devil, and he’ll avoid it where he can.

Clyde is taken off his internal reverie as Sam approaches him at the bar. “Another round, my good man.” He tells Clyde. He, of course, obliges and hands Sam two bottles of Coors, uncapped.

Meanwhile, Jimmy sat in his usual bar stool, drinking his beer, talkin’ to Clyde while he worked the bar; re-filling drinks and cleanin’.

“You got everythin’ planned?” Clyde asks Jimmy

“Just about. Just ironin’ out some things.” He answered confidently even though Jimmy still hasn’t finished planning squat. But he can’t let Clyde know, he’d panic, quietly, but he would still panic. 

“Welp, you better do it fast, got the auto show comin’?” Clyde reminds him earnestly.

As Clyde starts to put some glasses away on the high shelf, busying himself with never-ending work, so much so that he doesn't notice that the front door opens and in walks a woman. 

“Be right with ya.” He said after he heard one of the bar stools near Jimmy scrape on the wooden floors.

Now, you found it hilarious that the bar was called the Duck Tape...you spent all this time thinking it was weird to name a bar “Duct Tape” but here you stand at the front door;  corrected, ‘cause it could, in fact get weirder. You, of course, pay no mind to the ambience or the music hanging in the air once you enter the bar. You were here to meet with Fish and Sam; strictly business, or at least that’s what you thought while looking around the bar.

There were a few patrons, a few people sat in the u-shaped bar, while the bartender looked like he’s doing something on the shelves above it. You decide to not be a bother while he’s up on his step ladder and you just quietly walk over to the bar, sitting two seats away from another patron. He’s young looking, around his mid-thirties with short brown hair, and a goatee and the beginnings of a beard. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, but under it you can see that he was about fit, or fit enough. Or at least, that’s what you could gather since he was actually getting up, probably to go to the bathroom or something. He was good looking though, even if he had a bit of a limp, you noticed as you gave him a passing smile, doing your best to be friendly to the locals.

It’s seemed to be a quiet night all around. To the right there were some men drinking together, probably buddies; you saw Fish and Sam were already here, playing pool on a table nearby, probably waiting for you to get here. All in all, you really didn’t seem to miss anything going on. 

That is until you turned your focus to the bar, and said bartender working in front of you. How oblivious did you have to be to not notice this man? You asked yourself as you saw that the bartender there wasn’t using a step ladder at all. 

Well, Hello.

He was just this tall mountain of a man, with black shoulder length hair. His back was towards you, so you couldn’t see much, but what you could see, you enjoyed. His body was wrapped up in a cotton button-down short sleeved shirt, and those dark wash jeans that gave you a nice view of a tight ass that you can stare at all day if he lets you (you wouldn’t mind grabbing it either). 

Through his shirt you could see his shoulder blades through his back; flexing and moving as he finished placing the glasses high up, giving the rippling view and showing that he may be wide, but his waist was defined. So he was likely well built. A gym freak, health nut maybe? No, his waist would be more defined if he was, so would his muscles. His form suggests that his muscles are built to be strong, not for show. 

Maybe this mountain man chops wood. All in all you liked the view, and you always did have a thing for tall men (Everything just tended to be more proportional). So really, you wouldn’t mind spending some time in the bar, looking at him as he worked, getting a drink to relax, and enjoy the local sights before having to deal with Fish.

Uuuugh!

Why does this have to happen when you're here because of a Job? You’d rather just not deal with them at all if you could. Don’t take it the wrong way, the Bang Brothers aren’t bad people, per se. In fact you don’t mind Fish at all, and they’re good hearted boys; they mean well, but it’s obvious to any adult equipped with a brain that the smarts in the family went to Joe. The man’s a chemist after all, and Fish and Sam...well, they mean well, and Fish is okay. With a makeover he could be cute. But it’s not a mystery why he’s not a hit with the ladies. Or why Misty had an affair behind his back.

You rearrange your posture in your seat, twisting around over to the billiard’s table, just to make sure that both Sam and Fishy were still there.

“What do you like?” Clyde asks in a friendly way before finally turning around, and just like that…...It’s as if life punched him stupid in the face and left his vision all blurry like. It was as if for an instant time stopped and he was left still, dumb and frozen, just staring at you. It’s a good thing you were looking over at the billiards table because otherwise, he’d looked like a creep.

Now, to be fair, Clyde’s seen all types of folks come ‘n go around these parts, especially when you work at a bar. But Clyde could swear that he’s never seen someone quite like you. In your short white cotton dress, cinched at the wait with a thin brown belt with cute little brown cowboy boots; and your hair, loose in the most beautiful shade of (H/C) he’d ever seen. Now this isn’t enough to go by, and it’s true. It wasn’t until you turned your face to answer him that he finally managed to see you, that left Clyde truly entranced. Your beautiful (E/C) eyes, your hair framing your face beautifully had him enchanted; but the most beautiful part, in his opinion, was that bright smile that you gave him. It was one of those smiles that pulled up at your cheeks and made your nose scrunch a bit and maybe he was crazy but it lit up the whole goddamn bar. 

Clyde doesn’t know if it’s because it’s been a while since he was with a woman, but goddamn, it was like you came right out of a dream; an angel with  a white dress and everythin’. 

All in all, he was so dumbstruck in awe, that he didn’t notice that you sweetly gave him your order. It was as if for the briefest of seconds he felt like he was underwater.

Snap out of IT!!!

Clyde clears his throat blinking quickly to get him out of his stupor.  “I’m sorry?” he asked you as if he’s trying to make sure he got your order right.

“Can I have a vodka with Orange Juice, please?” you ask him again sweetly,  not minding at all that you had to repeat your order.

“Uh, yeah. Comin’ right up.” He said politely, trying to give you a good impression, but also being professional. The last thing a lady like you needed was a guy harassin’ her and bein’ inappropriate with her. It didn’t help the wait that you were looking at him, all sweet-like, like ya had a secret that he didn’t know.

And maybe you did; or maybe you were just checking him out as he showed off, making your  drink, with added flair that belonged in a more modern bar, not the duck tape. Still, you were grateful for the opportunity to watch him work.

Of course, the pleasure was all yours. Watching him closely, enjoying the show he put on for you. 

The man himself was six feet tall, maybe six foot two, but his body was well built all around from what you could see. His hair was dark, wavy and gorgeous....how is that even fair? You don’t know, but it does complement his goatee and frame his face, accenting his big nose and his full, pouty lips. It gives him this rugged, country boy look. His eyes are brown and look soulful; gentle, offsetting his almost intimidating physique.

 You notice that he’s wearing a black t-shirt under his navy-blue button down as he moves through the bar and even flips the shaker to efficiently mix the drink over ice, even though it’s not typically mixed, not knowing that he did it was to cool your drink as a special treat for the lady in white.

He tapped the glass connected to the shaker and poured the mixture in a clean high-ball glass sitting on a napkin, and delicately handed it over to you. You took the opportunity and deliberately brushed your fingers against his as you smiled at him, noting his lucky horse shoe ring sitting in his fourth finger. What a peculiar thing to wear you mused as you do a quick study in your head; nearly hitting yourself for not noticing earlier the most obvious thing about him until he was right in front of you, fixing your drink. An amputee bartender...that’s a first. You start to wonder how was it that he lost it. maybe a car crash? Some type of accident most definitely. Either way, this wasn't something that you saw everyday.

“Thank you.” You tell him kindly, just being polite.

“Ya welcome, miss.” He replies leaving the statement in the air. You look around a bit dramatically and look back at the bartender. 

He’s polite and his voice. Hmm!  

Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was the fact that he looked like rural sex on a stick, but you’re starting to want t o know more about him. And being the weirdo that you are, you start analyzing him from top to bottom; you can’t help it, you were just too curious about this sexy mystery man. Too bad I can’t tell if he’s married you think as you start to really look at him, seeing what you could find out.

Male, late twenties to early thirties, over six feet, caucasian, dark hair, well built and athletic, soft spoken, polite, but articulated. A bit shy, definitely not a social butterfly, from what I can see. Body language and tone suggests a bit of an inferiority complex and lack of confidence despite his height, meaning that he’s self conscious. Maybe he was picked on for it. His build suggests he was maybe an athlete in high school or college, perhaps military training. That could explain the lost arm, but I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. 

Your thought process makes you look at him sideways, supporting your head’s weight in your left hand as he cleans in front of you while you contemplate his life story. You wanted him to talk to you, you wanted him to make the first move; for him to give you a way to talk to him. But from the looks of it, you're gonna have to make the first move. Luck favors the bold, you remind yourself before taking a deep breath and look at his face.

“Is the bar always this busy?” You teased at him, a smirk on your lips as you're trying to make conversation. The brothers are still playing pool, so you have time. Why bother them and interrupt their game when you can play one of your own right here? And with far better company at that.

Clyde doesn’t miss a beat, hearing the small tease in your tone, still not really believing that you’re talkin’ to him. “Well, you’re very lucky. Bar’s not usually full until the weekend, so you can get my attention easily.”  He replies teasing you right back with a small innuendo as he met your smirk with one of his own.

“Really? Lucky me then. And what’s your name?….You know, in case I need to catch your attention. Or are you just ‘bartender’?” You fire right back. Okay, so the boy knows how to flirt a bit, this is promising, you thought as you played innocent with him, leaning back a bit and puffing out your chest and smiling, which if the lighting isn’t tricking you, causes him to blush a bit, on his cheeks, right below those cute little eyes.

“Name’s Clyde. At your service, Miss....” His answer held the promise of servicing more than a cocktail, or at least you hoped it did. 

“Vivienne. The name is Vivienne.” You introduce yourself, moving your head slightly, flipping a bit of our hair as you do so, showing more of your angelic face to Clyde, and he can’t help but give a small smile and the sound of your name. Vivienne, Vivienne Clyde repeats your name, trying it out in his head, almost as if to see if it fit with what he saw in front of him.  “Or ya’ll can call me Vivi for short, everybody does.” She smiled at him, a southern twang in your voice and the way you speak. It’s not from around these parts that’s for sure. Maybe it’s a different part or state. Heaven knows Clyde isn’t the most traveled fella, and even the parts where he’s travelled too ain’t that exotic.

Vivi takes a swig at her drink, gesturing to the ring on his right hand. “Are you superstitious? Or are you just always lucky?”

Clyde takes a look at his ring before smiling, slightly amused at the thought of Clyde Logan, of all people, being lucky at all. “A bit superstitious. Rather not tempt the devil y’know.” He answers lightheartedly, not wanting to elaborate on how was it that the Logan Curse made him believe in it. At least for right now, he just counts himself lucky to get you interested in him at all, don’t get him wrong, but Clyde isn’t an optimistic man; he can’t afford to be, not with this curse over his head. Knowing his luck, you’ll get bored of him quickly and move on to another fella. But he might as well enjoy this while it lasts.  “You?”

“A bit, but who isn’t really? I mean, it never hurts to throw a bit of salt over your shoulder, right?” You answer with a smile, your right eyebrow raising as you did so with a little playful shrug, causing his smirk to develop into a full smile, making his cheeks pull up a bit and his eyes shine at your lighthearted demeanor. You’re guessing that it’s not easy or common to break him and get a smile out of his somber, pouty expression, given how he seems to hold himself so seriously; so you considered this a little victory. Clyde just thought of it as part of your charm.

And just like that he was hooked.

When you were done with your first drink, you decided to take it up a notch. Maybe it was the liquid courage, or maybe it was your own bravery, either way you end up inviting him to drink with you, appealing to his good nature. 

“It’s my first time in West Virginia, and it’s bad luck to drink alone.” you say, pouting your lips at him. 

“Well what about that first one?” he counters. 

“That one doesn’t count. And if it does, then I need to do something about it. C’mon, have a drink with me. That way you can help me negate the bad luck.” You told him. At first he didn’t think it right, him bein’ working an’ all, but how could he say no to you? How could he say no to those captivating eyes and those tempting lips?  

So Clyde agreed, saying that he can’t leave a lady like you with bad luck in all good conscience, and deftly took two shot glasses down from the shelf and filled each of them with Bourbon Whiskey.

Taking the shot, you smelled it and looked at him funny. “Bourbon?” You asked him, to which he nodded in response. “It’s the good kind, top shelf, to commemorate your first time drinkin’  in West Virginia, on the House.”

“Well then, cheers. To good luck and good health.” you say raising your glass to meet his with a small clink before downing the contents in two quick swigs; the liquid burning your throat and the back of your mouth as you shook your head blinking as you did so.

“You good?” He asked smiling, this time his smile showed you a glimpse of his teeth. You nodded vigorously as you got ready for another round.

Just two seats away, Jimmy saw the exchange and he couldn’t believe his eyes. This lady was downright flirtin’ with his little brother, not in an overtly sexual way, but in a sweet teasing way. And what’s even more shocking; Clyde is flirtin’ right back. Well, his version of flirtin’, which isn’t to say much, cause his brother tended to be of a more serious type. 

Now, he didn’t recognize you, or at least he can’t remember you from anywhere, and be that as it may, Boone County ain’t that big. People tended to know everybody in town. So, you’re either a relative of someone or you’re from out of town, maybe even a city girl by the looks o’ your hair. He ain’t ever seen someone have hair that pretty; like them models you see in magazines or movies. But still, this is a big thing, so he decides to not interrupt, and let his brother enjoy her company while he enjoys his beer.

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

You spent the better part of the next two hours with him, talking, drinking and joking around. Honestly, you had even forgotten about Sam and Fish, and the whole reason why you were in the bar in the first place, preferring to spend your time like this than to deal with them.

Unfortunately your good time’s cut short as Sam Bang approaches the bar to order another beer and ends up looking in your direction when he heard you talking to Clyde. “Vivi?” He asked, turning away from the bar in your direction. Effectively ending your moment with the handsome man.

Both you and Clyde turn in Sam’s direction, you sigh loudly from your nostrils as you regard his appearance. “Hi Sam, how’s it going?” you ask him, causing Clyde’s once sunny mood to darken in shock as he looks back and forth between you and Sam; asking himself just how did you know him.

Sam turns around towards the billiards table and shouts. “Hey yo Fish! Vivi’s here!” getting his brother’s attention.

Upon hearing his brother Fish walks over to see what the commotion is about. “What?...Hey Vivi? When did you get here?” he asked and then gave you a small kiss in the cheek showing how familiar you were. You reciprocate the kiss with a polite smile before answering. “Oh just a while ago. I decided to get a drink while you boys finished your game.”

Okay, what the hell is goin’ on? Clyde thought jealously, watching with suspicious eyes as Fish’s arm wrapped around your waist as he gave you a kiss on yer cheek. He needed someone to explain this ‘cuz he couldn’t understand what was happenin’. One minute, yer talkin’ to him, flirtin’ all nice like, and now your talkin’ to Sam and Fish Bang like ya’ll good friends or somethin’. Was he in like a Twilight Zone? All he could do is pray that you weren’t related to them or that you were Fish’s girlfriend. Anything but that.

Likewise, Jimmy was also taken aback by the apparent run-in between you and the brothers, but he figures that maybe ya’ll are relatives, ‘cause there is no way in hell that one of them is in a relationship with someone like you.

Not able to take it anymore, Clyde addresses the group. “You know each other?!” he asks cautiously, his tone sounding a little louder than necessary, his eyes darting between Sam, Fish and you.

“Well, yeah.” Sam is the first to answer, lookin’ confused to ‘ve been asked that in the first place. “We’ve been waitin’ o her, on account of her bein’ our swiss army lady and all.”

“Wait, what?” Jimmy chimes in two seats away, giving away the fact that he was actually eavesdropping on their  conversation.

“What?” Clyde equally in shock makes the same question, not processing what Sam said just now.

“Yea.” Sam answered simply.

Fish hits Sam’s arm, catching his brother’s attention. “Sam c’mon, man. It’s 2017. Weeee’re what?” he said slowly, hoping that Sam will get the point that he’s trying to get across to him. Sam, being Sam, just shrugs; not getting the point that Fish is getting at, causin’ Fish to let out an exasperated breath. “We’re woke, man. It’s Swiss Army MAN.” Fish said as if it was the most obvious thing, clearly embarrassed at his brother’s faux pas.

Understanding the situation as an embarrassment, Sam’s lips formed a small o as he offered  an apology towards you. “Oh. I aporogize Vivi, on account of my political correctness.” which you just shrug off, not caring about the insignificant point enough to bother to correct him. 

What you did care about was the fact that they were plain out in the open talking about the job in front of Clyde and the bar patrons, as if it was the most casual thing.  Besides, What did they mean by Swiss army man? She was definitely out of this internal joke by the looks of it.

“Swiss army man?” You asked, trying to get it but failing miserably.

Sam just nodded and answered your question with a simple “Yeah.” as if that cleared things up for you.

Meanwhile the Logan brother’s can’t believe what’s happenin’ in front of their very eyes. 

You didn’t seem like the type that can help ‘em out. Hell, you seemed like one o’ them instagram girl with how pretty you look, not a thief or professional criminal! Jimmy just couldn’t wrap around in his mind just how you, pretty, innocent and girly-lookin’ You could help ‘em; just what did you know?

Clyde, like his brother, was equally taken aback by this whole thing. Just a short while ago,  he’d been talkin’ to her for two hours; drinkin’ and flirtin’ somethin’  nice. It seemed like she liked him, and Clyde most definitely liked her. Everything about her was beautiful and sweet. AND it turns out that she’s a criminal. Was she a thief? Was she a killer? He just can’t believe it, and just his luck too. Did she already know who he was? She was just jerkin’ his chain, flirtin’ with him to pass the time? From the looks of it, you were this sweet southern girl, without a bad thought in your mind; not a professional criminal. (Not that he had any ground on to judge you) He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

And apparently, neither could Jimmy. Getting up from his chair, he approached the three o’ them pointing a finger directly at you.

“You’re Joe Bang’s so-called ‘colleague’? The one he called?” Jimmy asked incredulously .

“Hi. I’m Vivienne, but everybody calls me Vivi.” you introduce yourself to Jimmy with a friendly smile pullin’ at your cheeks. “ And you are? How do you know Joe Bang called me?”

 “This here’s Jimmy. This thing is his whole Idea.” Fish takes the opportunity to explain to you.

Jimmy scoffs while shakin’ his head, not believing this. I guess looks’re deceiving, huh. He thinks to himself in his head as he reaches out to offer you his hand to shake it.

“Jimmy Logan. That bartender you were talkin’ to is my brother Clyde.” Jimmy introduces himself, his tone is defensive, willing to protect his little brother from ‘er. He figures that if you’re a friend o’ Joe Bang, he’d have to be careful with you.

You caught his tone and the sudden tension comin’ from both brothers, but you decided to play it off, used to people underestimating and being uncomfortable with you “Nice ta’ meet ya Jimmy”. You greeted him as you were friendly and shook his hand. You were hoping that Mr. Clyde “the Bartender” Logan would’ve been a good time, after all, your chemistry was so good; and then fate kicks you in the butt, making him find out who you were.

“Likewise.” Jimmy replied politely.

You put your right hand on your cocked hip. “So...Mr. Logan, what’s the job?”

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

Hi guys!! I hoped you liked the first chapter. Fist of all let me just say that I apologise for the word count on this first chapter. I usually write about 3k words, maybe 4, but I wanted to establish the tone of the scenes and and ended up writing a lot. 

Like it says in the summary this started out as a one shot but then turned into a short fic, which incidentally lets me add more details. Like my other fics; I don’t have a set word count. I got with the flow of the prose until i feel it’s enough.

So let me know what you think, i’d love feedback.

all my love

Selen R :)

Taglists are for friends (let me know you’d like to be added)

#clyde logan #logan lucky #adam driver #clyde logan/reader #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan fic #jimmy logan #mellie logan #joe bang #fish bang #sam bang #reader insert #clyde logan x you #clyde logan/you #luck be a lady #vivi #wip #LBL #readerchan #clyde x reader #clyde x you

[pigeons-scrawlings]

"Oh no! There's two of us, and only ONE BED!" Ship of your choice! 💕

Heck yea, hittin' me with a classic! (Btw, sorry this took forever, my dumb brain kept getting stuck XP)

Alright, let's give this a shot, I'm going with Speeding Bullet cuz it's my OTP :D

Oh, and something to note: I know most people tend to headcanon Snipers first name as Mick but I call him Richard/Rich.

And idk why but I like to think that Snipes and Scout know each other's real names so yeah, their names will be used a few times here.

Anywho, on to the fic!

_____

Scout's been dealing with a lot of feelings lately that he doesn't know what the hell to do with. It's been throwing him off his game pretty badly, and he's gotten very irritable.

He's been picking more fights with his teammates and he can't seem to keep a clear head during matches.

He'd talk to the one friend he's got on the team to vent and get some advice but...

His one friend happens to be the cause of these issues.

He doesn't know how or when exactly it started, things were fine and they could hang out and chat no problem, but then one day all of sudden he can hardly hazard a glance at Sniper without his thoughts wandering to... things.

Things like... How great his voice sounds. How wonderful his eyes are. How much he'd like to touch him, to-

'Jesus, there I go again...' Scout thought as he sighed deeply and put his face in his hand.

A hand on his shoulder snapped him back to reality. Oh yeah, he was talking with Snipes.

"You alright, mate?" Sniper looked at him with clear concern written on his face. Scout brushed his hand off "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

Sniper crossed his arms and his expression became more stern "Scout, I know you, something's clearly off. Something's been off for a while now, everyone can see that."

"It's nothin', really"

"Jer, you know you can talk to me, what's-"

"I said I'm fine!" He said that probably a bit louder then he should have, he practically yelled. Scout sighed again and quickly left, leaving Sniper a bit shocked and very worried.

Scout locked himself away in his room and spent the next few hours thinking and sketching out his emotions.

"What the hell am supposed to do..." he muttered to himself as he half-heartedly continued on his drawing.

"The hell can I do? Jus' walk up an' be like 'hey you've been the subject of my fantasies lately'?" Jeremy sighed again and tossed his sketchbook and pencil onto his bed.

He laid back on the bed, put his hands over his face and groaned. 'Even if I did, what would even happen? I don't even know if he... if he even swings that way. With my luck, he'd probably just hate me, think there's something wrong with me.'

He jumped when he heard knocking at his door. "Scout" Fuck. It's Sniper. Fantastic. "Scout I know you're in there, an' that you don't want to talk but I need to speak with ya."

Scout didn't move, hoping Sniper would just go away.

"Jeremy, don't make me get heavy to break your door!" Goddamit. "Alright, fine! Jus' gimme a sec!" He hopped up from the bed and quickly went and opened the door.

Scout leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed, giving Sniper a half-hearted glare. "What?"

"We're going on vacation."

"What??"

"You need a break, everyone else needs a break from you, and I'm not comfortable with leavin' you alone right now, so you and me are gonna take a little trip." Sniper tried to give an encouraging smile.

"You gotta be kiddin' me. No." He stepped back and attempted to close the door only to be stopped by Sniper shoving his foot in.

"No choice, mate, like I said, everyone else needs a break from whatever the hell has been going on with you. Either take a trip with me or, well, I don't know what they'd do but I'm sure you wouldn't like it."

Jeremy mulled over the idea for a few moments before reluctantly opening the door.

"Alright. Alright fine, when we leavin'?"

~Time Skip~

The drive out was quiet. Sniper occasionally tried to make small-talk, to lighten the mood but of course, it wasn't doing much.

He wasn't pushing questions though, Scout could be thankful for that.

After another bout of silence, he decided to be the one to break it this time "So, ya gonna tell me where we're goin' yet?"

"You'll see in a bit, we're almost there."

And yet again, the Scout sighed. Sniper wasn't wrong though, in a just about ten or fifteen minutes the path they were following through the woods came to an end.

They were now in a wide clearing. Sniper parked the vehicle and they both hopped out.

'A campground?' There was a well-used fire pit surrounded by logs for seating and a few hiking trails here and there leading back into the woods.

Sniper grabbed a few bags and made his way over to the pit. Scout looked around to see if there was anything interesting to be found here.

He noticed some old, worn-looking railing on the furthest side of the clearing and went over to investigate. On the other side of the railing was apparently a cliff.

As Scout leaned over a rail to peer down it Sniper made his way over to him, grumbling a bit as he went.

Scout glanced at Sniper "Y'alright there, Snipes?" he asked as he continued examining the bottom of the cliff.

Sniper sighed "Well, looks like I somehow forgot somethings, namely the sleeping bags."

As Scout turned to look up at the tall man he was suddenly struck with the mental image of grabbing Sniper by his shirt collar to yank him down for a kiss.

Scout coughed and leaned back on the railing, trying to look calm and casual and praying to God he wasn't blushing

"Ok, so? We can just sleep in your van."

"I only got the one bed in there, mate."

"Oh. Right."

"Yeah. So unless ya feel like sharin', " Sniper began with a mildly amused tone, as he turned to walk back to the camper "I'll just take the floor."

Scout was glad Sniper had turned away because he was definitely blushing at the thought of sharing a bed with him "What? Wait a second!"

Scout quickly walked after Sniper, grabbed his shoulder, turned him back around and gave him an incredulous look "No way, man! I'm not makin' you sleep on the floor!"

"It's fine Jer"

"No, I'll take the floor."

"Wha- Jeremy no, you have the bed, it's fine. Besides, whatever's got you stressed'll just be made worse if ya don't sleep comfortabley."

"I don't care, just- ugh. Alright, ya'know what?" Scout immediately regretted what he was about to say but he didn't stop himself

"We're sharin' the bed!" and with that, he stomped off towards the pit, where Sniper had apparently already gotten a fire going

"Now get yer ass over here, your fire looks like it's dyin'!"

Sniper stood there a moment, a bit stunned, before moving to follow "... Ok, mate."

~Time Skip 2: Electric Boogaloo~

This place had a very relaxing atmosphere, it helped ease Scouts nerves a fair amount. As the sun finished setting the two men were sitting near the fire, eating s'mores and talking.

Sniper was recounting an interesting creature encounter he once had.

"Bullshit, that did not happen," Scout said through a mouthful of graham cracker and marshmallow.

"It's true mate! It was like a jackalope but big as a moose! I'd've shot the thing but I was worried a bullet wouldn't do more than piss it off."

"A big ass kangaroo with antlers, sure. I'll believe that if I ever see it." He finished off his s'more and yawned, feeling a bit drowsy now that the sun was down.

He looked up at the sky, appreciating the stars. Sniper let out his own yawn and spoke "Alright, think we might as well turn in for the night."

Scout hummed an agreement, stood up and stretched as Sniper put out the fire. As they walked to the van some of Scouts drowsy-ness was suddenly replaced with anxiety as he remembered what he'd said earlier.

'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,' He's gotta share a bed with Sniper. Well, he's not backing out now, he's too stubborn for that. Yup. Stubbornness.

That's it. That's the only reason. The only reason he's gonna go through with it. Certainly not because this has been a fantasy of his. Certainly not because he would very much like to cuddle with the man. Because he doesn't. Really.

After they entered the van they both set about removing their shoes, brushing their teeth, y'know, standard bedtime routine stuff.

Scout was the first to finish and climbed into the bed.

"Y'know, I can still just take the floor, we don't have to-"

"Rich, just shut up and get the hell over here."

Sniper chuckled "Alright."

Scout scooted closer to the wall to make space as Sniper made his way over.

Once he was in the bed Sniper pulled the blankets over the both of them and turned to face away from Scout "G'night, Jer."

"Night"

Scout stared at the ceiling. He wasn't gonna be able to sleep like this, he was far too aware of the warm body lying next to him.

He wanted to curl up to the bushman, to rap an arm around him, to tangle their legs together.

But of course he can't really just go and do that without having to admit some things.

He turned to face the wall and closed his eyes, deciding to at least try to sleep but he was restless, after a few moments he turned to lay on his back again.

Then sighed.

Then turned back to the wall. And tossed and turned a few more times.

Then Sniper sighed and shifted. Turning to lay on his back, he looked at Scout "Jer, you alright, mate?"

"Yeah, m'fine."

"Y'sure? Your tossin' about quite a bit there."

"Yeah, well, not every day I gotta share a bed."

"I can still take the floor if ya want."

"Nah, I'll live."

"Jer, I don't want you gettin' a bad nights sleep 'cause of me."

"Definitely will if ya keep talkin'."

Sniper huffed in amusement "You grew up with seven brothers, didn't you? Can't imagine noise being all that much of an issue."

Scout grumbled quietly, unsure of what else he could say.

Sniper sighed again and shifted to fully face Scout 'Oh God what now' Scout thought.

"Listen. I know you don't want to talk about it, and I promise you if you still don't want to say anything after this then I won't ask again.

But you're my friend, Jeremy, I care about you, about your wellbeing, and I want to help. You know you can talk to me about anything, I won't judge you if that's what you're worried about. So, please. Will you talk to me?"

Scout was quiet for a few moments, trying to think of what the hell he could say. He sure as hell wanted to confess but he was scared of losing his best friend.

He decided to test the waters.

"... Alright..." Scout sat up and turned to lean back on the wall, looking at anything but Sniper, as he collected his thoughts.

Sniper sat up as well and patiently waited.

"Ok, so... I guess it's, uh... I, uh... Ugh... I think... I've, uh..." Scout swallowed nervously and took a deep breath.

"I think I'm... I-in... love?" he glanced at Sniper who gave a bit of confused look

"Not to make light of it, mate, but... Is that all? All of this fuss 'cause of some sheila?" Sniper chuckled and grinned.

"I-it's a... guy... actually..."

Snipers grin dropped and eyes widened slightly "Oh."

"Yeah..."

"Alright, I suppose I can see how you'd be a bit more inclined to secrecy then. Still wish you'd've told me sooner though. Like I always tell you, you can talk-"

"Talk to you about anything, I know, but... I dunno, I just... I dunno..."

"S'alright, Jer... If you don't mind me askin', it's not someone on the team is it?"

Scouts eyes widened and he stared in shock at Sniper "What?! No! Why the hell would I fall for any of those bozos!"

"Jer,"

"That's fucking ridiculous! How can even you suggest that?"

"Jeremy."

"There is no way in hell I would ever even consider one of them-"

"Jeremy!" Sniper clamped a hand down on Scouts shoulder "Would you calm down?"

Scout shut his mouth tightly and stared at Sniper "Listen, mate if telling me who it is is that much of an issue you don't have to!"

"I don't-" Scout was about to deny the idea again but was quickly silenced by Snipers stern expression

"You know you're a terrible liar, mate. You ramble and get defensive every time."

"I- but it's not- It- Fucking Goddamnit!" Scout covered his face and groaned "It's not- ugh!" He sighed lowering his hands but not daring to look at Sniper

"I-I do... want to tell you, I just... I don't..."

Scout felt his throat tighten, his could feel his eyes start to water. Sniper pulled him into a tight hug "It's okay, Jer."

"I don't want you to hate me."

"I could never hate you, I don't give a 'roo's ass who you love, it could never make me hate you!"

Scout gripped tightly to his only friend as if he'd lose him if he let go, he certainly felt like he would.

He pulled back a little ways, still not letting go, and looked Sniper in the eyes, those fantastic eyes. He doesn't know what prompted him to to do it but,

Next thing he knew his lips were on Snipers. He jumped back as soon as he realized what he was doing.

Sniper looked just as shocked if not more so. Scout covered his face again, fully expecting some kind of negative reaction.

Instead, Sniper pulled his hands away, held one of them and put one of his own to Scouts cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb and returned the kiss.

Scout couldn't believe it, he had to be dreaming! But it definitely felt real, and it felt amazing. It made his heart pound.

Sniper broke the kiss and looked Scout in the eyes "...Told ya I wouldn't hate you." He gave a soft smile and kissed Scout on the nose.

Scout smiled and couldn't help but laugh a little "Guess I was really worried over nothin', huh?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead opting to kiss Sniper again.

~The End~

#tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 fanfiction #scoutsniper #scout x sniper #speeding bullet #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

[sweets-fanfics]

Homecoming 5

Title: Not in Camp

Word count: 2946, aka chonky chapter

Warnings: uh... fluff I guess

A/n: Long chapter cause I don’t know when to stop

----------

When the three of you returned Arthur took off towards Dutch’s tent while you returned Jack to his momma. 

“There you are!” Abigail called to Jack as you pulled him down and handed him the necklace he made. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah! I made you a necklace momma.” 

Abigail took it in her hands and put her hand on her chest in awe. “Well ain’t I just the luckiest women.” She glanced up at you, “Oh and I see you gave the princess her crown.”

“Ms. Roberts…” You started to say.

“Oh, I’m only pullin’ your leg. Thank you for taking him out for a bit. Did somethin’ happen though?” She glanced at Arthur talking to Dutch.

“Eh… somethin’” Dutch looked over to you and waved you over. “Shoot, guess I better go.”

“Thank you again,” Abigail said.

You walked up to Dutch and Arthur, “Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked as he put a hand on your shoulder, you noticed his eyes quickly glanced at the crown Jack made you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just sad we had to cut Jack’s day short.” You shrugged.

“But those men, you two are sure they didn’t recognize you.” He asked firmly.

“They didn’t seem to have any idea who I was, Pa.” He nodded.

“Dutch, I’m not sure how safe we are here…” Arthur started to state.

“We’ll be fine, son,” Dutch reassured him. “For now just be careful. Y/N no more leaving camp.”

You looked up at him annoyed and shocked. “What? I didn’t do nothin’,” You groaned. 

“I’m going to make sure the Pinkertons have no idea who you are, and if that means holdin’ you ‘prisoner’ for a bit then so be it. Do I make myself clear?” The two of you stared each other down before you finally flung your arms up and stomped towards your tent.

You admittedly threw a bit of a tantrum for a bit. Staying in your tent and snapping at anyone who tried to enter. At some point, you must have fallen asleep because you opened your eyes to discover how dark it was out.

You peaked out of your tent and saw a few people around the fire. You crept past them so no one would see you as you tiptoed over to Suzie. You gave her a snack and petted her for a moment.

“And what do you think you’re doing, my dear.” You spun around as Hosea lit a cigar.

“Uncle Hosea you scared me.” You sighed.

“Guilty people usually get scared the most. Are you sneaking out of camp?” 

“What? Little old me? No… no just seeing Suzie.” You lied.

“Uh-huh, and where were you gonna go?” He asked as if you had answered him honestly.

You sighed, “I was goin’ to go into Valentine and buy a gun. Dutch won’t let anyone give me one.” 

Hosea chuckled, “He just cares.” He suddenly tossed you a rifle. “I take it you are goin’ huntin’ right?” You looked at the rifle in your hands. It was a Winchester. 

“Hosea, where did you get a gun like this?” You asked him.

“An old man like me has his ways.” He walked up and put a gun belt around your waist that even had a pistol in it. “Use my old gun belt and pistol. I got a new one today because I misplaced my old one.” He winked at you before turning away. “Don’t get hurt. And try to be back before the sun rises.”

You smiled at him as he walked off. You loved your uncle Hosea. That’s for sure.

You saddled up as quietly as you could before making Suzie slowly leave camp. As you left camp and headed towards Valentine you felt a weight lift off your shoulder slowly. You did feel slightly guilty. Only slightly though. You knew Dutch and Henry would be pissed but you wanted to prove you could help and that you could do more than be the damn camp princess. You had originally planned to hunt but when you passed the bounty board you couldn’t help but stop and look. 

You saw one for some ‘Edmund Lowry Jr.’ wanted for suspicion of murder. Sounded easy. If he hadn’t been charged yet maybe he didn’t do it. You shrugged and ripped the paper from the wall.

“So you’re a bounty hunter now?” The sheriff asked as he watched you put the paper in your bag.

“Waitressing wasn’t payin’ enough.” You smiled sweetly.

“Well, since you quit the food sucks. I should arrest ya for that alone.” You gave him a soft ‘get serious look’ “I wouldn’t go for Lowry, people have been having issues with him.”

“Thank you for the warning, but I got this.” You assured him as you climbed onto Suzie. He kept trying to convince you to take an ‘easier one’ so you stopped him the only way you knew how. “I thought I saw the butcher’s wife go into your office the other day. I hope she’s okay.” 

The sheriff suddenly shuts his mouth and gives you a dirty look as you smirk, “Don’t talk about what you don’t know, bring Lowry alive.” And with that, he stomped inside. You hated cheaters.

Lowry’s location wasn’t too far. You hoped off Suzie before walking up to the door and knocking. “Excuse me? Is anyone home I got lost.” You lied.

“Who is it?” A voice asked.

“I’m headin’ into Valentine for a new job.” You said with ease.

A man opened the front door. His hair was parted down the middle and had a mustache kinda like Uncle Trelawny’s. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir.” 

He seemed to try to hide a smirk. “Not at all my dear. Edmondy Lowry Jr. at your service.” He held a hand out for you to shake.

“Oh good, I knocked on the right door.” Before he could realize what you said you flung him on the ground and started to hogtie him.

“What… what’s going on? Who are you?”

“My name doesn’t matter, but you sir are being taken into the sheriff’s.” You smiled as you began dragging him to Suzie.

“Oh, it’s about time I’ve been caught. Did you like my work?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes as you put him on the back of Suzie, “Thank the lord I have not had the pleasure of seeing your ‘work.’”

“Shame really, perhaps you could let me use you?” He asked.

“Not sure my family would enjoy that.” 

“Can we make a stop on the way so you can see my work?” He asked.

“This is going to be a long ride, isn’t it? You asked.

You started riding back to Valentine when you noticed someone men on horses were following you. “Mr. Lowry do you have friends I should be worried about?” You mumble to him.

“I do believe those are bounty hunters like yourself.” You groaned and tried to go faster but a ride got in front cutting you off. Suzie stopped right away almost flinging you off. 

“Hey missy, you need help with that bounty?” The man asked.

“Nope, I’m good.” You said flatly.

“We’d been staking out his place for weeks and you just walked up and took him down like that.” One behind you said.

“She duped me, sadly.” Mr. Lowry started.

“Shut up or I’ll hit ya.” You threatened. 

“Why don’t you hand him over. It’s only fair.” You watched the man in front of you casually pull a pistol out.

You noticed someone riding up behind the man in front of you. You saw the blue shirt you love and knew at least you had back up. “No… my uh... Partner specifically said I have to turn him in.”

“Your partner isn’t here so let’s just do this the easy way.”

“Well her partner is here.” That wonderful man said in his gruff voice. “So maybe you two should leave her alone.” Arthur’s pistol clicked. 

“Hey, we had him first.” Arthur hit the bounty hunter in the back of the head knocking him out. 

You turned and aimed your pistol at the man behind you. He immediately put his hands up, “I’ll leave,” He quickly turned and took off.

You smiled and put your pistol away before hopping off your horse. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan-”

“Are you just tryin’ t’ piss your daddy off?” He cut you off as he walked up to you.

“Does he know I’m gone?” You asked.

He sighed, “No. I saw you talkin’ to Hosea and leave. Hosea asked me to keep an eye on ya.” He looked down at you. 

You just wanted to give him a quick peck. But the two of you had an audience.

“Oh, miss bounty hunter why didn’t you tell me you had a significant other?” Lowry said as he tried to crane his neck to see the two of you. You turned around to kick him but Arthur pulled you back by your collar. 

“I think we’ll get more money if you turn him in alive.” He suggested. You took a deep breath composing yourself.

“You are correct sir.” You climbed back onto Suzie.

“I must say miss bounty hunter, your horse spacious.”

“Are you calling my horse fat?” You said starting to reach for your pistol.

“No no!” You felt him wiggle around. “I just am usually not on quite comfortable horses.” 

“You don’t strike me as a horse man.” You admitted.

“No, I guess your right. Killing is more of my speed.” He said nonchalantly.

“Uh…” You looked at Arthur ahead of you. He turned around raising an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s best to shut up now.”

Thank god he was quiet for the rest of the ride. You got off Suzie in front of the Sherrif’s building. Arthur offered to pick him up but you simply grabbed the man’s ankles dragging him off your horse so his face would fall in the mud. Then from there, you dragged him inside leaving Arthur quite impressed.

“Ah, you caught the serial killer.” Sheriff said.

“Serial killer?” Both you and Arthur responded.

“Didn’t you know?”

“No! The wanted poster said under suspicion.” You yelled.

The man shrugged. “I must’ve forgotten to update the poster.”

“You think? Where’s my pay?” He put the money on the table and you snatched it away. “Thanks for nothin’ have fun with this lunatic he talks a lot.” 

You walked out and to Suzie. You grabbed Arthur’s amount and turned to give it to him. “You went after a goddamn serial killer?” He questioned.

“I didn’t know. And do not tell Dutch.” You demanded.

“Y/N you gotta look into shit like that. I can’t always run to your rescue.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I don’t always need it. I’ve just had bad luck lately.” You sighed. You took his hand and gave him a soft smile. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed signaling your victory. “It’s… it’s okay.” He kissed your forehead. “How about you head back to camp. I have to meet Marston.” 

You perked up, “Whatcha doin’?” You ask.

“Train robbery.” He says softly seeing as you were both near the sheriff.

“Can I go?”

“No, you have had enough adventure for the day.” You rolled your eyes and got on Suzie. 

“Arthur… that kiss the other day…” You started.

“I really would love to court you properly, Y/N.” He admitted almost making you fall off your horse. “But let’s take it slow test the waters… especially so Dutch won’t shoot me.”

You must have been grinning like an idiot because he looked up at you and chuckled, “Ya seem to like the idea, so I hope it’s a yes.”

“Oh trust me, Mr. Morgan, it’s yes.” 

He patted your leg smiling. “Well, get home then, I’m sure Hosea has some sort of excuse made for you.” 

“Be safe, okay? I’ll give you a kiss if you don’t get a single scratch.” You teased.

“Well, I better be safe then.” His face slowly turning red.

---------

As you road into camp sure enough both Dutch and Henry were waiting. Both standing the same with their arms crossed. You attempted to do a dramatic eye roll but you still had a dumb smile on your face from Arthur. 

“Where the hell were you?” Henry asked as you hitched Suzie.

“Out.” You replied simply.

“Hosea said he sent you and Arthur to run an errand for him… Even though I told you to stay in the camp.” Dutch added. He seemed to notice your smile.

“Well, if that’s what he said… then that’s what happened.” You took the camp share from your bag and handed it to Dutch while humming softly.

“And how in the world did you get this much money?” Dutch asked counting it.

“I have my ways, father.” You walked to your camp still humming and smiling.

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

Henry

“What is up with her?” Dutch asked watching after you.

“I think it’s Mr. Morgan.” Henry sighed. “She has been smiling a lot more recently.” 

Dutch eyed you suspiciously as Abigail and Sadie walked by. Sadie almost didn’t feel sad as she watched you almost dance into your tent and disappear. 

“Oh, she’s in love.” Abigail laughed.

“Definitely,” Sadie added.

“Love? They have known each other for a month.” Henry rolled his eyes.

“Boys don’t get it.” Abigail sneered jokingly. “It’s so cute. Dutch you have to let them figure things out.”

“What… what did I do?” He asked almost offended.

“John told me about your, ‘no funny business’ comment a few weeks ago. They are cute together and so far I’ve seen Arthur do nothing but treat her with respect.”

Dutch rolled his eyes. “I...I don’t know.”

“She’s a grown-up Dutch Van Der Linde.” Abigail put her hands on her hips. “Be supportive not a shadow.” She took Sadies arm and the two of them walked off.

“I will never understand women.” Dutch walked to his tent leaving Henry alone and still confused. He looked around spotting Tilly. She looked up from washing clothes and waved at him. He waved back and walked over.

“Miss Tilly, how do you feel about my sister and Arthur?”

She thought about it a moment. “They seem to really like each other, and they get along really well. Ain’t that what matters?” She looked up at Henry. “I’ll support them.”

Henry sighed, “I… if you will, I’ll try to support them as well.” He looked at Tilly. He’d been growing feelings for her for the entire time he’d known her. “Thank you, Tilly, I always enjoy talking to you.” She smiled up at him again.

“You always know where to find me if you want to talk.”

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

Y/N

It was pretty late by the time Arthur got back. You had waited up for him wanting to make sure he would be alright. You sat in front of the fire trying to keep warm. One at a time the men started coming back. First was Sean who you hadn’t even noticed was gone. 

He walked up and pretended to bow towards you, “Princess, what an honor to be in your presence.”

“Oh Sean, you make me hate the nickname even more.” You sighed. He chuckled and headed towards the beer. After him, John and Charles seemed to come back at the same time.

Charles nodded at you as he went by. As John passed you yanked his sleeve. “Hey, John?” You asked.

“If it’s about Arthur, he’s on his way still.”

You smiled. “No no, I was just going to ask if you can use that twenty dollars to get somethin’ nice for Abigail or Jack.”

It took him a moment but when he caught on he grinned and patted your head. “Thank you for telling me. I can work on my shocked face.” You pushed his hand away as he walked away laughing.

When you heard the last horse you didn’t move from your spot. You knew who it was. 

Arthur came and sat down next to you as you looked into the fire. “So you’re aware what you did today was stupid… right?” He asked slowly.

“Yeah… I am. I’m sorry Arthur.” You sighed and leaned ur head on his shoulder.

You could feel him go stiff from not expecting your sudden affection. He turned your chin softly so you’d look at him.

“Well as long as you know I guess no one has a need to be angry with ya…” he seemed to start leaning closer to you as you stared into his bright blue eyes.

This was it. He was going to kiss you in front of the whole goddamn camp and you weren't stopping him.

“Not in camp.” Dutch yell from behind making Arthur and you suddenly pull away like two teens caught.

Okay… maybe he wasn’t.

You smiled up at Arthur, “Did you get hurt?” 

You watched his cheeks turn red. “No, I got away okay.” 

You turned around and looked towards Dutch’s tent. He was staring you two down. There were two things you could do at this moment. Wait till even later to kiss Arthur. But you were tired. Or make the camp face the music. 

You took a deep breath standing up. Arthur looked at you confused as you faced him. “I’m very glad you came back safe.” You leaned down kissing him smack on the lips. As much as you didn’t want to you pulled back. “Goodnight cowboy.” You turned towards your tent leaving Arthur sitting at the fire with a bright red face. 

You heard Javier somewhere in camp go, “Damn it, I just lost twenty dollars.”

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fandom #rdr #Rockstar #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #dutch van der linde #john marston #tilly jackson #hosea mathews #writing #write #fanfic

[1dsongpreferencess]

#58: TAKE A BOW - RIHANNA (REQUESTED)

LIAM

"You look so dumb right now Standin' outside my house Tryin' to apologize You're so ugly when you cry Please Just cut it out"

It was 7 am and you were getting ready to work, you had a terrible night after finding out your boyfriend Liam had been caught on camera drunk kissing another girl. When your best friend sent you that video you forwarded to him and he hadn't stopped calling you since. Now, you heard the bell rang but you knew it was him so you didn't even get close to the door. "Please y/n, let me explain" he screamed trying to make you open to him. You didn't want that your neighbors saw that spectacle so you decided to let him in. "You don't get to explain, Liam. We're done. You cheated, you lied you were supposed to be home not at some club without me. I can't believe that man in the video is the same one I fell in love with one year ago." you said while he was trying to interrupt you and you could see his eyes getting watery. "Don't you dare to cry, not when you were having such a good time cheating on me. Please, just pick up the things you have here and leave." You said while grabbing the keys of your car and leaving for work, while he stayed there shocked you were so confident about leaving him. Liam was such a great boyfriend but knowing he acted that way thinking you wouldn't find out made you realize that kiss wouldn't be the first time he cheated. You were sad but felt strong knowing what you truly deserved but deep down wishing he fought for you, not even being sure if you could ever forgive him.

LOUIS (HIS P.O.V.)

"Don't tell me you're sorry 'cause you're not Baby when I know you're only sorry you got caught"

I was so excited about seeing y/n after 3 months I decided to surprise her changing my flight to 3 days before it was supposed to. It was 3 am in the morning and the only thing I wanted was to sleep in our bed together. But sadly when I came to our place I found out a party. She had more than 20 people there, she was drunk and I think she was flirting with some men that was more than happy about it. When she heard how hard I closed the front door she was suddenly not wasted anymore. "Louuuuu" she said while she was running to hug me but I was mad at her. And not because of the party, but because first, she didn't tell me she was having one and well, the flat is owned by both of us and second because she was close that guy.  I didn't even say hi, not to her and some of her friends that I've met before, I went straight to our bedroom and lock the door. When she realized how bad it was, she kicked everyone out and went there to talk to me. "Can we talk, Lou? Please, I'm so happy you're back" I didn't say anything because, to be honest, I didn't believe she was happy about it. "Ok, I'm going to stay here until you decide to let me in" she said while I could hear her sitting in front of the door. I couldn't stand more than 20 minutes knowing she was there so I opened the door. "How many parties have you thrown without me?" I said opening the door. "I swear this was the first and last. Lisa wanted to keep partying but since the club closed I decided it was a good idea to continue it here. But Lou I swear I was going to tell you about it later. I swear" she said really worried. "And what about that guy you were flirting? In our own house y/n. You were going to tell me about him too?" I replied angrily. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking but Louis, look at me, of course, I wasn't going to do anything with him, I'm so sorry. I don't wanna lose you. I will do anything to solve this" "You know what, y/n? I think you're only sorry because I caught you. I don't think you were going to be fully honest with me tomorrow. I don't know if I can truly trust you" I could see her eyes getting full of tears and It broke my heart seeing her like that but I've never seen her acting like that before. "Can you at least give me a change? I would do anything for you to forgive me and I will work hard to win your trust again. Just give me a chance, please" she held my hand but  I wasn't going to lie to her and pretend like I had the answer. "I'm going to sleep in the guest room and we will talk about it tomorrow" she nodded knowing I wouldn't change my mind. Now we were both going to bed having a lot to think about.

ZAYN

"But you put on quite a show Really had me goin' But now it's time to go Curtain's finally closin'"

Zayn was your first serious relationship and the first time you felt like you were in love. You were happy, he was a great boyfriend and you mostly had a good time together except when it was about hanging out with your friends. You weren't popular or something but you have a few close friends that were really important to you and as you always had met their partner, you were excited they could finally meet yours. But Zayn wasn't that happy about it, he didn't like it going out for drinks or dancing because his friends made other types of plans and well, you understand that you had different types of friends but you did your best when you met his and you were hoping he would do the same but you were wrong. He only went out with you and your friends once, and it wasn't good. Your best friend didn't like him, Zayn didn't even try to make things less awkward and after a huge fight when you got back to his place you both decided it was for the better that you went out alone with your friends. And at first, it felt like a wise decision but then every time you went without him he would end up fighting you about anything and you had your night ruined, and then you would end up coming back home earlier than you planned. Your friends trying to make you realize that was how he wanted that you separated from them and you didn't believe it until one day he surprisingly got mad about the silliest thing ever when you were getting ready and that was it. You were done with his show and with his manipulations. "That's it Zayn, I'm done you ruining the plans with my friends. I know you don't like them and you want me to stay away from them. But the only thing you're getting is that I want to not be with you. So, I'm going out with them and if you care about us you will think of your actions while I'm gone" And you had no idea how much impact it would have on him, fortunately, good impact. He only texted you once to say good night and the next morning he made you an "I'm sorry" breakfast and you talked about it, making things better in your relationship.

HARRY

"Talkin' 'bout, "Girl, I love you, you're the one" This just looks like a re-run Please What else is on? Oh, oh"

You were out dancing in a club with your group of friends, everybody was wasted and having a great time. You were dancing with Harry. Harry was one of your closest friends, you were that close that sometimes it could include some benefits and you were okay with it until he started to say things like "I really like you, I want us to be more than friends, etc" when he was drunk and then never saying anything sober. Tonight you were hoping he wouldn't do it but as it was more than midnight he started saying "I think you and I are gonna get married eventually y/n" "You're drunk, Harry. You didn't mean it" you replied a little bit annoyed. "I love you" he said. And you went mad because those 3 words meant something to you and it didn't was supposed to be said joking. "Tell me you love me sober and I'll believe you. Because right now I know tomorrow you won't even remember saying them" and suddenly it was 5 am in the morning and you were staying at his place, wearing some of his pajamas and sleeping on her bed. You both woke up the next morning with a huge hangover and decided to make some breakfast together and like you expected it, he didn't say a word about last night you think he didn't even remember it. It looked like you were had to confront him because it wasn't fair to you, finally accepting you had a huge crush on him.

NIALL

"Oh, and the award for the best liar Goes to you (goes to you) For makin' me believe That you could be Faithful to me"

One of your favorites plans of lazy Sundays with Niall was seeing some series together. You would binge-watch a full season in one day and sometimes you stayed until 3 am watching it. This time you were watching the new season of Dark but you have promised to only watch until 10 pm because you had a really important meeting the next day and you needed to rest, as that time arrived Niall was anxious about keeping watching because the only chapter left was the last one but you truly wanted to sleep so you said no and he turned off the TV. You promised to see it tomorrow night when you got home from work. You got ready for bed and you feel sleep easily. It was 2 am and you woke up to not find Niall sleeping next to you. The light of the bathroom wasn't on so he wasn't there and you got worried. You got up to look for him when you found him in the guest room with headphones watching the last episode of dark. You got furious because how was it possible he couldn't wait one day to keep his promise? you remove the headphones of his head. "Seriously, Niall?" you said going back to bed and he got really scared. "Y/n I'm sorry I couldn't sleep, I need to know" he said following you to bed. "You couldn't wait 24 hours? That's betrayal" you said closing your eyes and putting your back to face him, he tried to cuddle you but you were mad and he knew he had to let you sleep or it would become worst. The next morning, he woke up early and made you breakfast, he even got ready to take you to work and you were giving him the ice treatment, but of course, you eat the food and let him take you, knowing he would have to make an effort for you to forgive him. You arrived to work and you were going to get out of the car but he grabbed you and gave you a kiss that made you feel a little less mad. In the end, you were lucky the only way he wasn't being faithful to you was about watching a show.

#one direction #onedirection #imagine one direction #one direction preferences #1d #1d niall #1d preferences #1d imagines #liam 1d #Liam Panye #Harry Styles #harry #louis tomlinson #louis tommo #louis 1d #Zayn Malik #zayn 1d #zayn

[justjessame]

A Little Ass and A Lotta Sass: Chapter 8: Decisions Made...Oh Dear God...

When the man you’re still trying to decide keeps popping up with more and more reasons, in his mind, for you to run away with him what do you do? I’m not sure what other people do, but me? I get more and more uncertain.

What if, like Judith and something new and shiny, Negan gets me back to the Sanctuary and suddenly he grows bored? What guarantee do I have that the chase isn’t what has his motor running at full throttle? And no, I don’t fucking care that there are no money back guarantees with relationships. I want more certainty, especially since, well the truth of it is I don’t trust his followers.

Somehow, I trust him and his bat naming insanity, far more than I do the roaches he surrounds himself with. I’ve noticed, while he visits, that some are very clearly loyal to him. Those people I may learn to trust, maybe. Then there are the others. Like the man who had taken Daryl’s clothes, bike, and crossbow. Do I really believe that a man punished with a hot iron to the face really calls it fair and square and suddenly becomes the perfect foot-soldier? No, no I don’t. And if I don’t trust him, then I know there are bound to be more just like him. Men and women who do what Negan says, strokes his enormous fucking ego, but behind his back where he can’t see? That’s where they plot.

I know that’s how people work. Hell, take a gander at Spencer and what happened to him. He wasn’t the first, and he won’t be the last that I encounter in this harsh new reality. The thought of dealing with a bunch of angry housewives, that would be sharing him with me-gag, and also the uncertainty of the disloyal was a hard pill to consider swallowing along with the fear that I was just the girl of the week.

The fourth visit was shorter than the last. I felt the sigh on his lips when he kissed me goodbye. And I wondered, if eventually he’d just fucking give up and never come back. I hate to admit it, but the thought of not seeing him again caused a flinch of pain run through my chest. A normal woman may have analyzed that reaction, but I’m fairly certain we all know how much of me is normal.

 While I killed time between this visit and the next, I caught Daryl still studying me. Fuck it, I thought, approaching Dad’s best friend. Let’s see what the quiet one thinks about the entire fucking situation.

“Hey.” I offered, sitting down on the lawn beside where he was tinkering with his bike. “You gonna tell me if you’ve figured out that puzzle you seem to be working on?”

I heard him grunt, but his face was currently buried in the metal he was working on. I waited. Daryl took his fucking time on everything, sometimes even his words. A couple minutes passed, and then he finally spoke. “You gonna do it?” He didn’t look at me, focusing on some part of the bike that I couldn’t name. “You gonna go with him?”

As if I needed that clarification. “Not sure.” I answered, wondering what Daryl’s opinion on the situation was. “You had to stay there, I have a feeling it isn’t Club Med.”

He snorted. “Yeah, ya could fucking say that.” He finally looked up and through the curtain of his bangs I saw his eyes were focused on me. “Figure your accommodations are bound to be better than mine were.”

“Yeah, but I’d still be a prisoner wouldn’t I?” That was a near fear that had popped up. If I left with him, if I agreed, would I ever get to leave and visit my family again? Would I get to see Judith grow up? See Carl finally become the man he was teasing about becoming? And watch Dad and Michonne grow into their relationship? And the others? Enid, Maggie, Sasha, Rosita...These people were all my family. Leaving them and never seeing them again was terrifying.

He shook his head as the pain of the mere thought of never seeing anyone again rushed through me. “Don’t think so.” He tossed the tool he’d been using into the box at his feet. Moving to sit next to me, he glanced over at my profile. “He don’t treat ya like he treats ‘em.” The wives, so Daryl had seen or met them. “Hell, they don’t wanna be there with him, not really. Just like the perks.” I nearly snorted, considering the perks of Negan I fucking enjoyed. “Can’t make up your mind for ya, Callie, but he’s fucking different with ya. Didn’t think your dad and Michonne knew what the fuck they were talkin’ about, until that mornin’.”

I looked down at my hand, it still bore the marks of the fork tines. “Yeah, that morning was a real eye opener, huh?”

He chuckled. “Thought he was gonna fuckin’ blow a gasket when you stabbed that fork into your hand. Shit, that would have been a good video to have on repeat.” I giggled at Daryl’s amusement. “Callie, I watched him burn a guy’s face with a hot iron, and not flinch at the screams. You stab yourself with a fork and he nearly fucking died.”

I bit my lip, Daryl wasn’t telling me this because he wanted me to go. He may see the upside of me going, but in the end, he knew it was entirely up to me. And knowing Daryl, he’d be just as ok if peace didn’t come and he could kill every last Savior up to and including Negan. Which is why I took his words as they were offered.

I sat next to him, thinking about what he’d told me. Wisdom, I suppose, since he’d actually been inside with Negan. Adding it to what Carl had told me about his own visit there, I watched the scene before me without seeing it. Thinking about what I could negotiate with Negan to make the entire idea more livable. And then I sat back and waited until he popped up for another visit.

He waited longer this time. A little over two weeks had passed. Two weeks for me to hammer out the details for my own piece of the pie that would make the whole fucking arrangement worthwhile. To both of us. At least I hoped it would.

I wasn’t paying attention to the rest of the world, not closely. So I barely noticed that Michonne kept giving me weird side eye looks. Very weird side eye looks. Before Negan showed up, she finally cornered me. And that’s when I realized that the asshole may have fucking called it on his last visit.

“Callie, when’s the last time you-” Michonne began, then stopped, took a breath and started again. “I noticed when I took out the trash yesterday that there weren’t any-” And another stop, and I swear I could feel the heat of her embarrassment.

The trash, empty of something that seemed to bother Michonne. Fuck. I closed my eyes. Ever hear that thing about women who live together having their cycles sync? Well, in a weird twist of fate, Michonne and I synced before meeting. And she usually took care of the trash during that week, because honestly listening to Carl bitch and moan about bloody anything was annoying as shit. I swallowed hard.

“I haven’t.” I opened my eyes to hers. “Not this month.” Then I shook it off. No fucking way. It was too soon, for one. And I doubted highly that I would know this early. Not fucking possible. “Stress.” I let out a swoosh of air in happiness and hope. “Has to be the stress of deciding. That totally throws off a period.” I nodded, convincing myself and hopefully Michonne.

“Are you sure?” She asked, watching my face so carefully that I swore she memorized all my fucking tells. “It only takes one time, you know.”

I nodded. I knew that. Every woman over the age of ten should know that. I also knew that there was no fucking way that God could possibly make that huge of a joke out of my situation. Nope, not fucking possible. “Of course I know that. It wasn’t long enough ago, Mich. I mean, what three weeks? Too fucking early to even think about that.”

I heard her clearing her throat, almost fighting a laugh. I looked at her and she smiled. “Actually, that’s precisely how long it may take to be sure.”

I felt my back press against the wall behind me. My head knocked against it as I smacked it back. No, that couldn’t be fucking right. I couldn’t possibly be. No. I refused to accept the idea of it. I shook my head and finally her laughter broke. I couldn’t even focus enough to glare at her. My stomach felt twisted with nerves. Fuck. Shit.

A few days later, there he was. Whistling up the steps to the front door of our house. I was sitting in the living room. Dad and Michonne were out on a run, hoping that they could find some kind of mattresses. Carl and Judith were playing upstairs and I was on the couch, trying without success to read a book. My mind was still whirling with the idea that I could possibly have a baby inside me. I heard the knock, and the whistling and nearly hid. Not now. Damn it. Not now.

He opened the front door, because of course he would, and strutted inside. Finding me on the couch, I heard him groan. “Damn, is it just me or do you get fucking hotter every goddamn time I see you?” The couch dipped as he sat down beside me. His hands, glove free, took the book from me and sat it on the table in front of me. “Gonna say hello to me, princess?”

I looked up at him and bit my lip. “Hey.” It was a weak greeting, even by most weak standards.

“Something wrong?” His brow was furrowed, looking at me with worry and a hint of fear. Of course he was thinking I was turning him and this asinine idea down.

I swallowed, my mouth felt like the fucking Sahara. “No, nothing’s wrong.” Except you may have fucking predicted the immediate future you weird fucking asshole. “I suppose you’re here to remind me of all the amazing reasons I should be upstairs packing so I can run off and join your harem?” My voice sounded off even to me. And he clearly noticed it.

“Callie, what the fuck is wrong?” His hands cupped my face, staring into my eyes with such intensity I wondered if he was trying to delve into my thoughts. “Tell me.”

I sighed. Fuck it. Why not? “Apparently,” I swallowed again, and realized I needed a drink. I stood up and he followed me to the kitchen where I got a glass of water. Drinking it, all of it, I finally continued. “Apparently, I’m late.” I felt the blush burn my face. Dear God, let the floor swallow me now.

“Late?” He stood back and studied me. “You’re late.” A nod and then that fucking smile. And the fucking dimples. “Shit. That’s either the funniest and best fucking news I’ve had in my fucking life, or the most fucking terrifying.” Ah, that’s why he wasn’t barking with glee. “A baby?” He moved closer, and cupped my chin in his hand to tilt my head up to look at him. “Our baby?”

“I haven’t confirmed it.” I said, sighing. “I haven’t really accepted the possibility.” I could see the hurt in his face. “We haven’t really come to terms with our situation, Negan. Adding a baby to the mix doesn’t exactly make it easier.” I felt his thumb grazing my lips. “I was actually hoping to sit down with you and talk about my stipulations, and then this.” I moved my face from his hands and glared at my flat stomach. Traitor body.

“Then let’s fucking hammer out the details, Callie. Any fucking thing to get you home with me.” He sat down at the dining room table and motioned for me to take a seat. “Tell me what you want. Let’s fucking negotiate.”

I rolled my eyes, clearly my default reaction to Negan. I sat down and reminded him that I could very well NOT be pregnant. So he shouldn’t let the possibility of a baby cloud our talk. He nodded his understanding and I began.

 It took around an hour for me to explain my wants, and especially my needs if I agreed to be with him. He listened, only asking a few questions to clarify things before letting me go on. Then it got down to the nitty gritty.

“OK.” He said, grinning at Carl when he came down with Judith for lunch. He watched as my brother threw together something to take back upstairs, waiting until they’d gone before continuing our discussion. “You want monogamy, visits with your family, and to get to choose the Saviors that guard you?” I nodded, figuring two out of three might be agreeable to him. “Done.” I felt my eyes go fucking wide. “What?” He asked, feigning an innocence he probably had never possessed. “I thought about what you’d said about the others, why do you fucking think I was gone so fucking long?” Huh, well look at that. “I thought about it, and I discussed it with-” He stopped and flashed me a look. “Well, I got a little feedback from some people. They’ll be put back where they came from, be it their former men or wherever the fuck they crawled to me from.” I was reeling. It couldn’t really be this simple. Could it? “Besides, Callie, I fucking hate being there without you. It feels weird to be here with you, but if that had been a fucking stipulation, then I’d probably have figured out a fucking way to relocate my base here.”

I sat back in my chair. Fuck me. What the hell do women actually do with this type of power of men? Because honestly? I was fucking stumped. “So, I get everything?” I was so fucking confused that I almost started looking for that fucking fork again. “That I asked for, I mean.”

“You didn’t really ask for much.” He shrugged, looking supremely unconcerned. “No side pieces, easy, fuck the way we go together I don’t need other variety.” He smiled at me and I felt my heart lurch. “Visits with the family? Simple, I can’t fucking wait to see Rick’s face when you tell him about MY fucking bun inside your hot fucking oven.” I fought rolling my eyes at his certainty of my possible pregnancy and at his childish need to irritate Dad even now. “And as for choosing your own guards, fuck that’s the simplest. I won’t have you surrounded by any fucking one you don’t feel comfortable with. Period, done, finished.” He sat back looking pleased as fucking punch. “How long is packing gonna take?”

I laughed at him. Long and hard. Shit. “Dad and Michonne aren’t here. I can’t go until they get back, Negan. Even with visits, I want to say goodbye.” He huffed an annoyed sigh. “You know, you wouldn’t find it so unbearable here if you could spend the night in my bedroom, on an actual fucking bed.” He shot me a look. “Your fault, not mine, buddy.” I held my hands up, reminding him that in this instance, at least, I was the innocent party.

“How fucking long is Daddy going to fucking be away?” He was pouting, I fucking swear, he was pouting.

“No fucking idea.” I answered honestly. Runs were planned, of course, but who fucking really knew. Shit goes bad constantly. I stood up and walked to his seat. He pushed the chair back automatically and I sat down. “I could always keep you company until he gets back.” I offered into his jacket and I felt his entire body go stiff. “You know, out of the kindness of m-” I never finished my sentence, but that didn’t mean that I never finished.

#negan x ofc #the walking dead #Smut #alternate universe