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brideofkylosolo · 2 years

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Writer Wednesday Fic

Writer Wednesday Week 32

Tagging @writer-wednesday

A Fall Surprise at the Pumpkin Patch

Clyde X Kadlyn (OC) (Logan Lucky)

Clyde and Kadlyn take their kids to the local pumpkin patch for some fall fun.

Warnings: Cuteness, fluff, family, animals

It was no secret that fall was Clyde Logan’s favorite season. From the cooler weather to the foliage, to the various fall festivals in the area, he loved everything about autumn. Especially going to Thompson’s Farms, the local pumpkin patch with his family.

“Are we there yet?” his eldest daughter Rylee asked from her seat in the family van.

“Almost, punkin’,” Clyde told her as he carefully drove the van down the road.

“Are there gonna be animals there?” Nathan, the couple's youngest boy asked.

“It’s a farm, it’s gonna have animals,” Daniel, his older brother replied.

“Nah-uh,” Nathan retorted. “That tree farm we went to to get our Christmas tree didn’t have any animals.”

“That’s different,” Daniel said defensively.

“Alright boys, that’s enough,” Kadlyn, Clyde’s wife told her two boys as Clyde turned onto a gravel road.

Soon, they made their way to the grass parking lot. Clyde parked the car as his youngest daughter, Layne made a noise from her car seat.

“What munchkin?” he asked. “You ready to get out and pick out your pumpkin?”

Layne made another happy noise. Clyde just smiled. He opened the door and carefully took her out of her car seat, cradling her against his wide chest. She made a happy coo as she settled. Clyde smiled as he handed his infant daughter off to Kadlyn; he then got the red wagon from the back seat as his other four children climbed out. Everleigh, his middle daughter started to take off but he managed to grab her in time.

“Where do you think you’re going, little miss?” he asked her as he scooped her up with his good hand.

“I want down,” the little girl whined as Clyde placed her in the wagon along with Nathan.

“You’ll get down soon enough, baby,” Kadlyn told her daughter as Layne cooed in her arms.

“I want down now!” Everleigh stated as she started to climb out of the wagon.

“Everleigh Rose,” Kadlyn said in her signature motherly tone that only she had.

The little girl stopped, pouting as she sat. It made Clyde chuckle to himself. Only Kadlyn could rein in their kids by simply saying their names. She was by no means a strict mother to her brood but she also didn’t tolerate any sort of misbehaving either. Of course, none of their five children ever, if rarely, misbehaved, lucky for them.

“I’m hungry,” said Nathan as they walked inside the gates to the Pumpkin farm. “Can I get a grilled cheese?”

“I want chicken nuggets!” Everleigh interjected.

“We’ll see what they have, ok buddy,” Clyde told his kids.

“Look,” Rylee, the couple’s oldest daughter exclaimed. “They have hay rides! Can we go on that mommy? Please?”

“I wanna do the corn maze,” Daniel said.

“We’ll do both,” Kadlyn told them as the family walked over to the line for the hayrides.

Suddenly, a black puppy came bounding up to them. It immediately attempted to climb into the wagon, making Rylee, Daniel, Nathan, and Everleigh burst into laughter.

“Puppy!” Rylee happily exclaimed as the tiny dog hopped up and down. The dog stood on its hind legs and began to lick Rylee’s face; the little girl giggled. “That tickles!”

Clyde picked the dog up. “Cute little feller, aren’t ya?” he remarked as the puppy licked his nose.

“Can we keep him?” Daniel asked.

“I think he’s the owner’s,” Kadlyn told her son as a young woman wearing a tan set of overalls walked up.

“There you are, you little rascal,” the woman said. “Sorry about that. He keeps getting out of the barn.”

“Is she your puppy?” asked Rylee.

The women smiled. “Well, he’s the farm’s puppy. His mama had him and his siblings a few weeks ago.”

“What’s his name?” asked Daniel.

“He doesn’t have one.” The woman gave Kadlyn and Clyde a smile. “He’s actually looking for a home if you folks are interested.”

That news excited the kids. “Can we take him home daddy?” Rylee inquired.

Clyde and Kadlyn exchanged looks. “I dunno baby girl…”

Rylee took his good hand in her hands. She looked up at him with a pleading look. “Pleeeease Daddy? We promise we’ll take good care of it.”

“I guess so,” he replied. “So long as your Momma says it’s ok.”

Rylee and Daniel turned to look at Kadlyn. She rolled her eyes as she smiled. “Alright, we can take the puppy home.”

Rylee, Daniel, and Nathan hopped up and down in excitement as the woman handed Clyde the puppy. “I wanna name him Olaf!” stated Rylee

“No, that’s a dumb name,” Daniel retorted. “Let’s name him Rusty.”

“I wanna called him Bones!” interjected Nathan.

“How bout we let your Momma pick his name?” Clyde suggested.

Kadlyn paused to think. “How about Oakley?”

The three kids nodded. “Yeah, I like that name,” said Daniel.

Clyde liked that name as well. “I like that name, too.” He looked at the puppy. “You like that?”

Oakley licked his nose. Clyde guessed that was yes.

He smiled as Kadlyn scratched the puppy’s head. “Well, welcome to the family, little Oakley.” Clyde had a feeling the newest edition to their family was going to fit right in.

#writer wednesday #logan lucky #clyde logan #clyde x oc #oc insert #oc insert fic #fanfic #fanfiction #one shot

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bleedingichorhearts · 2 months

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𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XV

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: They didn’t make it easy, just sayin’.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.

TW // Slight SMUT/NSFW, Violence, Yandere Themes?

It’s been 4 years since I found myself with my biological child. 4 years being stuck under a house filled with camera systems that I didn’t have access to. What were they expecting? A feral marine to just slam through the wall?

I sighed, watching a shadow engulfing the front door from the kitchen. No doubt it being that cop and his Dark Angel checking up on us almost every day.

“I’ll get it!” Salem yelled out, already bolting for the door. His little footsteps echoing across the wooden floorboards while I took the dish rag off to my side to dry off my hands. Making my way towards the door myself.

“Clyde! Dacre!” My son squealed, being picked up by Clyde as he spun him around. Both of them laughing together before Clyde settled him on his hip.

“Are you causing your mother some trouble?” Clyde questioned, only walking further through the house when I nodded to them that it was okay.

“Never! I’m a good man!” Salem yelled, looking very proud of himself.

“Man? Since when?” Clyde asked, turning his head toward me. His pure blue eyes always capturing my attention.

“I may have praised him for helping me out with some ‘heavy’ chores.” I said, throwing the dishrag back into the sink from the hallway.

“Yeah! And they were heavy!” Salem explained, throwing his arms out as Clyde led the small group into the living room.

Plopping myself down onto the L-shaped sofa. Dacre sat himself besides me, making the sofa bounce a little as he rumbled. If I didn’t have Astartes sized furniture, I’m sure the sofa would have snapped in half with the added weight of his armor.

“How’s your mother doing anyway? I haven’t heard from her in quite a while.” Clyde questioned, looking over at me once more as Salem wiggled out of his hold.

“She is the best!” Salem shouted, running over and jumping into my chest, snuggling into it. “She gave me gummy worms!”

“Gummy worms?”

“What? He earned it.” I said, threading my hand through Salem's white hair as he smiled up at me.

“You spoil him too much.” Clyde sighed, his tone closer to adoration.

“It’s what a mother does.” I hummed, a rhythmic ding going off. Telling me the laundry was done.

“Can’t argue with that.” He said while I kissed the top of Salem's head.

“Excuse me boys, but laundry calls.” I excused myself, pushing off the sofa and towards the laundry room.

“Clyde! Can you play with me?” I heard Salem yell out to the copper while I left the living room. A small smile growing across my face at the childness.

“Sure buddy! What do you have in mind?”

Entering the laundry room. The scent of fresh clothing greeting my nose. The washing machine singing its tune out just before the dryer.

Dragging an empty laundry basket over to the dryer. I opened it up and started to load the basket up with the warm, fresh, clean clothes before pushing it out of the way and taking the lint out of the dryer. Then, I shuffled over to open up the washing machine and started to throw the damp clothes into the dryer. A soft thunk going off with each piece of clothing I threw in there.

Jumping in my spot, I spun around at the sound of a rumbling purr from Dacre. His hulking form leaning down a little to get through the archway.

“Dacre? Shouldn’t you be with Clyde?” I questioned, turning back to continue throwing more wet clothes into the dryer.

He purred again, his head coming forward to softly nuzzle the top of my head. Sending a twist down into my stomach that I couldn’t identify if it was ‘butterflies’ or my nerves telling me something else.

“Did you want something?” I asked, shutting the washing machine door and turning around to face him once more.

Dacre chuffs, his form practically curling over mine as he lifted me up and put me on top of the washing machine. His gauntlet taking a hold of my chin and tilted it up to him. His thin lips brushing up against mine. My stomach twisting more and more.

Shooting my hand up, I grabbed him on his gauntlet, stopping his movement. A low rumble coming from the Astartes. His russet brown eyes look down at me, questioning.

I opened my mouth, closed it then sighed. “I-I just… I don’t know. I don’t know.”

It was true, I didn’t know. This felt so right to do, but so wrong like it was unjust, cheating even.

I mean, I did have s*x with them once, but I admit, I was in a really bad spot. I haven’t had s*x in 3 long years. My fingers couldn’t keep sedating the same growing itch inside of my core for long, but f*ck was it a very pleasurable experience to have.

Dacre rumbled lowly and pressed a light kiss to my jawline then a little closer to my neck, testing what was acceptable to do and not. Not really pushing it, giving me any time to stop him; pull away from him, but I didn’t.

I let his breath fan against my cheek, sending shivers down my spine before his lips connected to mine. His tongue licking the bottom of my lips, asking if he could do more than just a sweet kiss. Opening my mouth a little, he didn’t hesitate to explore. His gauntlet coming up behind my head while I placed my hand on his chestplate, a groan leaving both of us.

“Mom! Ma!” I heard Salem call for me. My eyes widening in surprise, flickering from Dacre to the archway. His head moving back, leaving me out of breath. “Mother!”

Whipping the excess saliva off my lips, I slid off the washer. Dacre moving to the side to let me through, but before going to my sons call. I went on my tiptoes and surprised the Dark Angel with a kiss to his cheek. His eyes widening in surprise as he straightened up to his full height while I brushed past him.

“Yes, Salem?” I called back, hearing the light purr of a satisfied Astartes behind me.

“Can I have more gummy worms?” Salem asked, his tone a little suspicious.

“I don’t know. It’s nearing dinner time!” I responded, making my way to the kitchen. Spotting my child and the cop getting into mischief together. Their thieving hands in the snack cupboard.

“What are you two doing?” I asked, spooking them as they both jumped and looked behind them.

“Retreat recruit! Retreat!” Clyde yelled, picking up Salem as he squealed in delight. Taking a bag of snacks with them as they ran out the back door.

“Hey! You can’t have all of them to yourselves!” I yelled out, chasing after them.

I huffed, finally catching the little rascal with many, many snacks stuffed in his cheeks. Both of us sitting on the grassy ground, his deep blue eyes looking up at me with a grin on his face.

“I believe that’s enough for you tonight.” I sighed as Salem looked like a little chipmunk as he was still eating the sweets in his mouth.

Salem tried to say something, but it came out muffled. Though knowing my own child and any other child. They like to reject such an opposing statement to them.

“You finally caught the boy, huh?” Clyde wheezed, clearly underestimating what kind of speed and stamina Salem had. Especially on sugar.

“I hope you found your fun in letting him eat a bag of sweets, copper.” I grumbled, trying to get a buzzing Salem to sit still with my hold. “Before dinner too.”

“Haha, sorry?” Clyde apologized, putting his hand on his neck and leaning over, out of breath.

“Wait— Salem!” I yelled out as Salem escaped my hold, running towards the forest behind the house. “Come back!”

Pushing off the ground, I ran after Salem. His little giggles echoing through the forest. If the sun wasn’t resting, I would have thought his escapade would be fun, but since it wasn’t my worry skyrocketed.

“Salem! Please stop running!” I shouted out to him, barely keeping an eye on him as the sky got darker. The thickening of the flora not helping either. “Salem!”

Losing sight of my child. I slid to a halt in the middle of the forest and turned around in every direction he could have gone, my heart pounding in my chest. Oh, him and Clyde were not to ever touch the snack cupboard again.

“Salem!” I called out for him again. Hearing his giggles off in the distance. A shimmer of white catching my eye. “Salem! Come back–”

Choking on my own air, a low growl came next to my ear. My hands desperately trying to get a grip on this guy's armor. Gaining another low growl going through my ear, but then replaced by a quiet, reassuring purr.

“Hey there! Mind giving that child over?” I heard the voice of Clyde, my head turning to look where he was speaking from.

Clyde received a growl in return, the being behind me tensing up. Their gauntlets trying not to squeeze me like an otter popsicle.

“Come one now, don’t be like that. His mother is worried for him.” Clyde responded, shifting his weight. Was that… was that a Gray knight?

“Where is she?” The knight rumbled, his tone clarifying that he was not in the mood to play games. Yet it sent a familiar tingle down my spine. Did I know this Astartes?

“I don’t know who you’re talking about there knight.” Clyde said, shifting his weight again as the knight growled again, clearly not liking that as an answer.

“Look I just want–”

I jumped in the beings hold, my eyes widening in shock as the knight thrusted his sword through Clyde's body. His blood staining the ground behind him as he coughed. Clyde's hand coming up to grasp at the sword through his body. Slowly looking up between the sword and the knight before the knight pulled upward, splitting the man into two, bloody halves.

The being above me shook and kept squeezing their gauntlets hard enough that it formed a strong bruise on my skin before they took off with me in their arms.

“What are you doing?!” I shouted at the being, pounding back onto their armor. Catching the glimpse of the gray knights' visor looking at me. “Put me down!”

I needed my son! He can’t be in their hands!

“Let me go!” I shouted again, trying to wiggle free from his firm grip. “Put me down–!”

The world became a blur for a moment. My body suddenly slammed into the ground, a cry ripping through my throat. Searing heat going through my shoulder and leg. Metal clanking upon metal sounding out. What the hell just happened?

Trying to flip around on my stomach. I cried out again, the sudden pain making it unbearable to move, but I still tried. They were taking me away from my son.

I huffed, tears slowly flowing down my cheeks at the effort of trying to move my injured body. My eyes looking up at the scene before me as I used one on my knees and hand to support my body. Two Astartes going at one another. One of them shifting color before they were thrown into a tree, snapping it in half.

I hissed as the one who threw that other Astartes into the tree bent down to pick me up and started running again. A big headache starting to form.

“Mother?” I heard Salem faintly call out before he cried. “Mother?!”

ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XVI

ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XIV

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥: “𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗” 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖘𝖙

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #tw: violence #oc: Clyde #oc: Dacre #dark angel #some f*cky goin’ on #polygamy #polyandry #polygynandry #old post #older post #astartes x reader #space marine x reader #tw: yandere #adeptus astartes

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kettlemouse · 2 months

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Captain witnesses Bunny's strength first hand.

Once again, writing about my favorite captain, Castle "Daddy" Alistair, an OC made by @charliemwrites, this one is more of a drabble I suppose but I hope you all enjoy nonetheless :) This is set a year before my last fic and is more from Castle's POV.

Warning: The following contains violence and suggestive content.

Reader's discretion is advised.

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Shit..." Castle hisses, his stomach churning with anxiety as it becomes increasingly obvious that he's pinned, armed with no ammo and a simple combat knife, hidden from sight with a tipped over, flimsy ass table.

The crunch of shattered glass and rubble beneath heavy foot falls only promising danger as the enemy approaches.

He freezes, breath trapped within his lungs to listen carefully, only for his heartbeat to begin pounding in his ears.

Dammit.

The footsteps grow louder and clearer with increasing proximity, death knocking on Alistair door, waiting to be let in with the final step.

"Hey! What're you—"

A pained yelp echoes from the enemy, wood chips and pieces of—wait...

That's a chair leg...

There's a sudden, quickly approaching sound of footsteps, causing the captain to tense with anticipation, readying his knife for the attack as he keeps himself hidden behind the side-turned table.

A gunshot pops in the air, contorting Castle's facial expression into a wince, but it falls into that of concern and shock as he hears a familiar voice echo out.

"You missed."

Quickly, the CO jumps to his feet, just in time to see the newest addition to his team tackle the enemy, throwing them to the floor with a grunt.

"FUCK—" just as quickly as the enemy shouts in startlement, they're silenced with a jerk of their head, Bunny easily snapping their neck with a sharp crack.

That man was twice her size.

And she put him down so fucking easily, without struggle.

And the captain is unsure whether he should be alarmed with how easily he chubbed up in his pants.

Now's not the fucking time.

"Sir, you a'ight? Nothing broken or bleeding?"

Finally, he releases the breath he's been holding this whole time, chuckling lowly in relief and warmth.

"I'm fine, came right on time, doll."

Bunny grins beneath her helmet, her only indication is the squint of her doe eyes through the visor of her goggles.

"Bunny, sitrep."

Her radio crackles to life, Nova's voice echoing from the device.

"Solid, found Daddy. We're coming to you."

Jesus, why did she have to sound so good saying his callsign like that?

#cod #cod oc #oc x oc #call of duty #captain daddy #Captain Castle “Daddy” Alistair #Castle “Daddy” Alistair #Tommi “Bunny” Clyde #Sergeant Tommi “Bunny” Clyde #Sergeant Bunny #suggestive #nsfw?#cod specgru #oc

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starrysharks · 1 month

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OK so I'm feeling some guilt I started to draw cartoony like you but I get frustrated because it does bot look perfect like yours it's mostly small stuff like colors and clothes I love making cartoony body's sometimes clothing but I have color picking because I'm still new to art that has colors is my feelings normal or is it wrong of me? And how do I pick colors because it frustrated me to no end and made me stop drawing for months anyway in short summary how do I color the right way like I guess I know skin tones but anything else goes wrong and the other summary is how do you draw clothing because I can't for the life of me get clothing right

don't worry - it's normal to get frustrated when drawing. i know i've literally quit and deleted entire illustrations in the past because i didn't like how the colors came out, and i can spend whole hours just choosing base colors TwT i think the important part about learning art is not to rush. i'm seriously flattered you see me as inspiration, but what worked best for me back when i heavily referenced other artists was "mixing" styles together to create a "new" one - so i'd recommend studying and copying multiple artists you like and trying to blend their styles into one if that makes sense! ^^

hating color picking is completely normal when you're first starting out, and even late into art like i said before - i've been making original digital art on ibispaint for about 5 years now, and it's still difficult. but it's easy to make it fun, and the best way to do that imo is to experiment! i'd recommend studying color theory on a larger scale, and understanding how certain colors might look completely different based on where you put them. or maybe make an illustration and color it in a bunch of alternative ways! also, having "bad" or "awful" color skills starting out is OK - i still think my colors suck sometimes even now lol.

anyway, the best way for me to color pick is to just use that color for whatever the OG artist used for their art. let's use alex ahad as an example because i find his art and color use super interesting -

i don't usually color pick, but when i do, i typically start with picking the eye color. then, based off of the eye color, i chose a base color based on the character's color pallete (easier of the eye color is already close to the main color of the character, which for clyde is turquoise).

then, i pick more colors directly from the reference, for stuff like skin. at this point i have a good idea of the colors i want to use and stop color picking from the ref, but there's no shame if you still feel you need to.

after that, based on the colors i picked, i'll color in the rest of the piece. i usually end up changing the colors that i did take from the reference due to experimenting - for me, i just use color picking as a sort of stepping stone for when i'm not sure how to color a piece the exact way i want.

eventually, you can learn to color pick by eye rather than with the picking tool in your art program, tho that takes a lot of knowledge on color theory.

really there is no "right" way to color, especially for skin imo - don't limit yourself to just peach, tan and brown. clyde's skin is bright white, but i still used a yellowy color here because it was relative to the other colors in the piece. i've also used "alien" tones for human-toned characters in the past before!

and about clothing folds - i can make a full post on that if anybody else is interested OuO

#ask zeno #zeno's art #ocs #ultimate x calibur #clyde blacktooth #long post

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melon4brian · 4 months

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I wanna draw more of my ocs so badly, I might start do some of them along with more geronimo fanart

#lackadaisy #lackaoc #lackadaisy oc #my ocs #oc x canon #wes clyde

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androidwiththeparanoid · 2 months

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The sound of footsteps padding across the damp earth brings you back to consciousness. You’re slumped against a tree, tucked into the farthest corner of the prince’s pocket dimension. When you look up, his eyes glow scarlet in the gloom of the bayou, the rest of his face shadowed and unreadable.

“Welcome back,” says the prince in his soft, unassuming voice. He stops in front of you, his clawed and scaly hands tucked into the pockets of pressed slacks. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

You glare at him as best you can with one throbbing black eye. He cocks his head to one side. “No? Okay.”

A rustle in the bushes. Fear grips your heart as you see two pairs of luminous reptilian eyes emerge from the dark, flanking the prince on either side. The helligators’ sharp teeth flash silver, their red scales and golden horns catching on the low light as they lumber over. A low rumble reverberates in the bayou.

“Just don’t forget,” warns Clyde Morningstar as he crouches before you. At this distance, the deadly serious expression on his face is perfectly visible. “that I don’t pretend to be nearly as forgiving as my sister.”

pov: you fucked with charlie and/or the hotel and now lil bro is ANGERY

he may be the little sibling, but he inherited lucifer’s protectiveness over his family and alastor’s tendency towards defending his turf, and now it’s his mission to be everyone at the hotel’s scary dog privileges.

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #appleradio #duckiedeer #fanchild #oc art #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #alastor x lucifer #my art #traditional art #the brainrot is terminal #clyde morningstar

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kisses-for-clyde · 3 months

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💚🌼🧡Wesoppy SWEEP 🧡🌼💚

#lackadaisy #poppy ayres #artwork #lackadaisy oc #wes clyde #digital art #oc #original character #art #fan art #oc x canon

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whatavery · 4 months

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Crosstalk (Art Trade)

My part of an art trade I did with Melon over on twitter, featuring their OC Ethel Freeman and everyone's favorite weasel-faced Marigold, Wes! Had fun with this one, I'm glad you liked it, Melon!

Crosstalk: Noun: "When two communications channels play over each other, usually unintentionally."

...

“… and that marks the third raid on an illegal drinking establishment this month. While authorities have refused to comment on the matter, they have reassured me that all will be taken care of in an orderly fashion.” Ethel shuffled her notes for a moment as she took a short breather. The gray-furred cat took a moment, before she continued. “And on the topic of doing things in an orderly fashion, do be careful out there tomorrow, all you drivers. It’s getting real slippery out there. This has been Ethel Freeman with the Tin Twist Ticket. Have a good night.”

Ethel flicked a few switches and just like that, she was off the air. She checked her wristwatch for the time. It was getting rather late by now, almost ten. She was definitely one of the latest broadcasts, though she didn’t have much of a choice. These days, most stations were limited in when and how much they’d broadcast. Not many shows had female hosts and even fewer sole female hosts. But Ethel was doing what she enjoyed and she was doing it well – at least she thought she was doing rather well for herself.

Giving a yawn, the American Curl cat gave a self-satisfied smile. Life was good. Ethel ran a hand through her curly, black locks. With the holiday season, she had plenty on her mind; presents to buy, people to give them to… and people to keep at bay.

A knock on her studio door made her jump and whip around, her glasses almost falling off in the process. Framed in the door of her office stood a tall, looming figure clad in a black suit. Had it not been for the hunched figure’s white dress shirt and blood red tie, their clothes may very well have blended in with their black fur.

“Happy holidays,” the tall stranger sneered at Ethel, tone rather sarcastic. The scarred, elongated face was one Ethel recognized. If anything, it was one that was very hard to forget. His ominously bright, almost glowing eyes were trained on the heavyset American Curl.

“What are you here for, Mr. Clyde?” Ethel’s lips were pursed as she looked upon the weasel-faced stranger with mounting dislike. It wasn't the first time he'd appeared unannounced in her studio, though Ethel couldn’t exactly say that his other visits had been much better.

“That’s not a very festive greeting, now is it, missy?” he practically crooned at her as he moved into the room. While he himself had never done anything to harm Ethel, seeing him approaching still made her tense up. On the left side of his chest, Ethel spotted the familiar, orange flower pin, and she noticed he hadn't bothered wiping his boots of snow. “I was here to give you an invitation-”

“If it’s from your boss, tell him I’m still not interested,” the shorter female insisted. She scowled up at Mr. Clyde as he stopped in front of her. He had quite a inches on her in terms of height, he’d have even more if he wasn't as hunched. Despite being slicked back, the fur on his head looked slightly messy.

“Fighting words…” he said sarcastically as he looked down at her with a look that braver people than Ethel would have found intimidating. But she wasn't afraid of Wes Clyde, not in the least. “Are you sure? It’s a Christmas party and everything…”

Ethel gave a defiant nod and crossed her arms. “Quite sure. You don’t need to keep coming back to try and make me join you and your… your…”

“Yes…?” Ethel scowled when Mr. Clyde smirked at her, looking amused, as though he couldn’t wait to hear what she wanted to call him and his people.

“You and your band of low-lives.”

“Low-lives…? That’s just hurtful…” Ethel momentarily looked surprised when she heard those words, staring up into those yellow eyes. But when she saw the smirk on Mr. Clyde’s face, however, she knew he wasn't actually hurt – and there was no need to be sympathetic. “We’re proper folks. We run a business, just like you. Don’t you profit off our work?”

“If you mean all those supposed accidents…” Ethel said, squinting slightly up at Mr. Clyde, who grinned down at her. He took a step back and reached into his jacket pocket.

“That I do, li’l missy,” he told her casually, pulling out a cigarette and a light. Ethel didn’t even get a chance to tell him not to smoke in her studio before he lit the cigarette, slipping it between his lips. When he exhaled, he was at least kind enough to blow the smoke away from Ethel. “Don't try to change the subject, though – you’re profiting off our handiwork too.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” she snorted at him, arms crossed as she looked up at him. “I just report on what your people are doing.”

The black cat gave a snort of his own and blew smoke to a point right above Ethel's head. “And you make how much as a radio host…?”

At this Ethel fell silent, scowling at the taller male, who grinned at her in a triumphant way. He took another drag of his cigarette, before he gestured towards the door. “Come, let’s go for a walk, li’l missy.”

A walk alone with him of all people? The thought made Ethel grimace slightly. She wasn't going to walk the cold streets with a man like Wes Clyde. “And what makes you think I’d want to be seen with you? I don’t want to be associated with you Marigolds…!”

“And people say I’m nasty,” the weasel-faced cat said, though he didn’t look like her words actually hurt him. “Please, just a short li’l walk. It’s nothing major, I just want to talk business…”

“I’m not doing business with you people, I already-”

“Or we can just talk,” the taller cat said, shrugging. He flashed the gray cat a grin and blew smoke towards the floor of all places. Ethel watched as the cloud of cigarette smoke made impact with the floor, washing over her feet before it dissipated. “Can’t blame a man for yearning for some lovely company, now can you?”

Ethel faltered slightly, fixing Mr. Clyde with a rather suspicious look. His words were dripping with a smarminess she wasn't quite sure she liked. The American Curl raised an eyebrow at him, while he simply returned it with a look to match his tone of voice.

As it turned out, the night air was indeed rather cold, which was no surprise. Clad in a thick, warm winter coat, Ethel stepped out onto the street. She could feel the air nipping at her face whenever a breeze blew past and she could see her breath in the air before her. The sky above the city was mostly clear, though the streets were still covered in quite a bit of snow, especially the sidewalks.

“Why are you really here?” Ethel asked as she turned to Mr. Clyde, the tall, hunched cat smirking at her. He'd thrown a coat of his own on as well on the way out, though it didn’t look particularly warm to Ethel. “Surely you didn’t stop by just to give me an invitation…”

“Maybe I did,” the black cat responded with a shrug. When he started walking by Ethel’s side, he offered his arm to her, though she simply looked at it as though it were a venomous snake that could strike at any time. When she didn’t take it, Mr. Clyde simply chuckled. “What’s it to you anyway?”

“I just don’t imagine you coming to hassle a radio host is actually part of your job…” the shorter cat noted coolly. When the hunched man chuckled, she turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “… what?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised, li’l missy. You ain't the first radio host I've had to have a little talk with,” Mr. Clyde told her rather cryptically. They walked down the darkened street at a slow pace, snow crunching under their boots. Thankfully it wasn't too slippery, the soles of Ethel's winter boots thankfully keeping her mostly secure on her feet.

“A little talk? Who else did you talk to?” she asked, tone suspicious as she looked up at him. She knew quite a few other people who worked in radio, though not all of them did so as regularly as she did. She broadcast when she was able to, whether that be in the morning or the afternoon. Not many radio shows had set schedules, hers certainly didn’t, for the most part.

“Oh, really only that Morrison fella. But he wasn't as interesting as you, I've got to admit,” Mr. Clyde told her, smirking at her. “Nor would I want to invite that guy to a party…”

Once more Ethel looked at the black cat in surprise. He offered her his arm again, but she still didn’t take it. He didn’t appear to mind, however, and simply continued walking by the gray cat’s side. Ethel cleared her throat some. “You really want me to go, don’t you? I’m starting to think it’s personal and not business, Mr. Clyde…”

This time, it was the weasel-faced cat who fixed her with a curious glance. Mr. Clyde looked surprised, but quickly resumed smirking at her. “Well, in that case, you may call me Wes, li’l missy.”

Ethel's left ear gave an irritated flick. “Could you please stop calling me that?”

“What, you don’t like it? Fine, fine, Ms. Freeman.” Ethel stumbled lightly, a particularly slippery patch of ice under her foot. She had to grab the nearest thing and that just so happened to be the black cat’s arm. He was clearly taken by surprise as she nearly pulled him down with her, but he steadied himself to keep her from falling.

“Ah, now you’ll hold my arm – when you almost fall,” Wes teased her, smirking as they moved past the slippery area and turned a corner. Ethel let go almost immediately, however and simply walked beside him again.

“Trust me, I didn’t enjoy it,” she told him, though she felt her cheeks warming noticeably in the cold winter night. Ethel adjusted her spectacles as they continued on their way, though before long she realized how far away from her studio he was taking her. She’d hoped it would be a short walk around the block, but realized she had been foolish in her assumption. Ethel stopped.

“What’s the matter?” Wes asked, turning back towards her. He watched the American Curl with a look of intrigue. He smirked a bit when he seemed to realize. “Come now, it’s not far…”

“I’m not going into that… that…”

“That what?” Wes was almost sneering at her as he lit another cigarette.

“That den of lions!”

“Please, as if I’d let anything happen to you. You'd be our special guest for the night, there’s no need to make a fuzz, li’l missy.” He gave a snort, before taking the first drag of the cigarette. Wes extended his arm to Ethel once more, tilting his head slightly upwards, giving her a different view of his scarred face, looking almost pleasant – almost handsome… “What do you say?”

Ethel stood by the taller cat, frowning up at him. She looked back the way they'd come from, then up ahead. She knew that he was leading her further and further away from her studio. Her eyes met his for a moment, before she broke eye contact again. “… is it far?”

“Not at all, li’l missy, just another few blocks – faster to get there than to go back,” Wes insisted, grinning down at her. He offered her his arm yet again. Despite herself, Ethel took hold. Through his clothes, she could feel that he had quite a bit of lean muscle. The slender black cat looked particularly pleased with himself as he guided her along.

Ethel didn’t know much about Wes’ employers other than the fact that they dabbled in very unsavory business. She’d been exposed to Marigold thanks to her fascination with crime and the various stories that tended to pop up. She knew for a fact that he worked for people who weren't exactly on the proper side of the law. What would it even be like to be among people like that?

“See, this ain't so bad, is it?” Wes asked, flashing her another smirk as he guided her down the street. Ethel said nothing. She wasn't so sure. He was starting to act considerably nicer, but was it all an act to lure her in and spring a trap on her?

“It’s… something,” Ethel half-muttered, her brain going over the possible scenarios. Did she know too much? Was that why he was bringing her in? Or were they going to plant evidence on her or have her incriminated in some other way?

“You’re shaking.” Wes’ words caught Ethel off-guard. She turned to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you are.”

“It’s cold,” she simply noted, gripping his arm more firmly, as if to show her displeasure in a more physical manner.

“That it is, li’l missy, that it is…” he noted, blowing smoke up towards the sky, before it dissipated into the cool night air. “If you’re scared, you've got nothing to worry about. You can trust me.”

“But if I don’t…?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. Wes stopped with her and watched her for a moment. Then he let out a short laugh. “… what’s so funny?”

“Oh, I just find it funny – here you are holding my arm like we’re on a date and yet… you don’t trust me?” the black cat sneered down at her. Ethel cleared her throat, but said nothing, leaving the weasel-faced cat to chuckle to himself. “Don't be scared, li’l missy, I’ll take good care of you.”

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy fanfiction #lackadaisy oc #oc x canon #lackadaisy wes #wes clyde

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