#jimmy yelling twice that hes doing this all alone and both times followed by him calling for his little brother

[vanityangel]

THE TRIBAL CHIEF vs THE YEET WWE SMACKDOWN (OCTOBER 13, 2023)

#wrestling #wwe #smackdown #roman reigns #jimmy uso #solo sikoa #paul heyman #the bloodline #wweedit #my gifs #jimmy yelling twice that hes doing this all alone and both times followed by him calling for his little brother #only made immensely funnier in that said little brother would be named SOLO of all things #you cant convince me this isnt all jimmys plan to just exhaust his entire family #he is weaponizing his unseriousness #wrestlingedit

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

soooo... can we get a what might have happened if Jimmy's worst fear came true and Dogwarts tried to sacrifice Scott?

okay this ended up being kinda self indulgent lol hope that’s okay

...

Scott is starting to regret letting the Dogwarts trio take him and Jimmy back to their base, but he can’t exactly back out now. It’s his own fault, really, for asking if there’s anything else he can do to support Dogwarts from a distance, rather than putting up their banner.

He shoots a sideways glance at Jimmy, who seems even more nervous than him. Scott resists the urge to reach out and take his hand.

Finally, they arrive at Dogwarts. Scott is more than worried to see that a new platform with torches surrounding it on all four corners has sprung up in the middle of the carrot field. It looks innocent enough but something about it gives it an ominous vibe.

Unfortunately, this is exactly where Ren leads Scott.

“What is this?” Scott asks warily, putting one foot on the step up.

“This is the Altar of the Black Heart,” responds Ren ominously. “For Dogwarts to truly achieve full power, it requires a sacrifice. The death of an outsider.”

Scott’s eyes widen as he realises what this means. “Whoa, whoa, hold on a second!”

He backs away a few steps but bumps into Etho, who takes hold of him in a surprisingly strong grip.

Jimmy starts forward with a gasp but Martyn grabs him and pushes him down, holding him in place. “Scott!” Jimmy cries uselessly.

Ren stands on the hill just above the altar as Etho drags Scott into place and tries to hold him down. Scott struggles against Etho’s grip, causing Etho to backhand him across the face.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Jimmy screams. “SCOOOOOOTT!”

Blood trickling out the corner of his mouth, Scott coughs and tries to fend Etho off again.

“I’d stop resisting if I were you, Scott,” comes Martyn’s cold voice.

Scott glances over at him. His heart freezes as he finds Martyn holding a sword to Jimmy’s neck. “No!” he gasps. “Don’t!”

“Then hold still.”

After a moment, Scott squeezes his eyes shut and falls still, letting Etho push him to his hands and knees in the centre of the altar.

“Scott…!” croaks Jimmy. “No…!”

Scott forces himself to meet Jimmy’s terrified gaze. “It’ll be okay, Jimmy,” he whispered, just loud enough for Jimmy to hear. “Just stay strong for me, okay? Stay strong.”

“A sacrifice must be made!” announces Ren, spreading his arms to the skies. “Do the honours, Etho.”

Etho nods and raises his axe.

Jimmy looks away, starting to hyperventilate. He can’t watch this.

Scott closes his eyes.

“STOP!”

Everyone freezes.

Scott dares to look up and spots Grian standing a little way off, fists clenched. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here but it stops now!” Grian shouts.

Taking advantage of his distracted state, Jimmy wrenches free from Martyn and dashes to hide behind Grian.

On the altar, Etho pushes Scott further down to the ground and holds his axe threateningly over his back. “It would only take one swing,” he warns.

“Stand down, Grian,” commands Ren.

Grian holds up a block of TNT in one hand and a flint and steel in the other. “Let Scott go now,” he orders. “Don’t make me blow this place up.”

“How much damage do you think you’re gonna do with one block of TNT?” Ren scoffs.

“Who said anything about just one? We snuck in here while you lot were out and planted TNT all over this place. All it’ll take is one little lit block and the whole place goes up.”

Ren narrows his eyes. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” Grian says challengingly. “Do you wanna find out? I’m sitting pretty on my green life but you? You’ll be taken out in an instant.”

Everyone present knows the implications of this. Ren is the leader of Dogwarts and he put himself down to red on purpose. If he dies, the Red Army will become nothing. It will negate everything Ren’s worked so hard to build up. Grian may die too if Dogwarts explodes but that’s nothing compared to what Ren will lose.

“All you want is for us to release Major?” asks Ren after a moment.

Grian nods. “That’s right. Release Scott and let him, me, and Jimmy leave this place safely.”

Scott can feel himself trembling, not daring to lift his head to look at Jimmy. He has no idea if Ren will agree to this or not. Even if he does, Etho could choose to end him anyway.

After an agonising pause, Ren says, “I will release Major if you promise not to blow Dogwarts up.”

“I agree to your terms,” Grian responds.

Scott and Jimmy simultaneously let out a breath of relief.

“Etho, let him go,” Ren orders.

Etho releases Scott, who climbs to his feet and takes a few cautious steps away from him.

Just as Scott jumps down from the altar, Etho whips out a block of TNT, lights it, and tosses it. It lands in front of Scott, who scrambles to the side to avoid it. The resulting explosion sends him flying into the wall of Renchanting. He hits the ground at the base of the wall, unconscious.

“Scott!” Jimmy yells, dashing to his friend’s side.

Grian curses under his breath. Ren may have called his bluff but Etho didn’t. Now he’s been exposed. There’s no TNT under Dogwarts. And they’re all in incredible danger.

Etho darts forward.

“SCAR, NOW!” Grian shrieks.

A second later, an arrow flies out of nowhere and hits Etho in the leg, sending him down.

Grian dashes over to Scott and helps Jimmy lift him up. Carrying him between them, the two flee out of the gate and down the hill towards the desert.

Scar appears at their side moments later, carrying a bow. “I shot Ren, like, twice in the arm,” he pants. “I think that’ll slow them down.”

Grian doesn’t waste his breath in responding.

Luckily, the Red Army seem not to be following them, and they manage to make it to the desert with no problems.

As the group head up towards the desert house, Scott awakens with a quiet groan. Jimmy hears this and his heart leaps, but he can’t quite summon the energy to speak yet.

Grian and Jimmy lower Scott down just outside the house. No sooner have Scott’s feet touched the ground than his knees buckle and he collapses into Grian, who helps him sit down against the side of the building.

Jimmy immediately drops to his knees beside Scott, using the edge of his scarf to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth and his chin. “Are you okay?” he asks urgently, his voice shrill with panic. “Did you hit your head? You’re still bleeding! How badly did Etho hurt you? Are you-.”

Scott cuts him off by grabbing him in a tight hug. Jimmy hugs him back, both of them trembling from adrenaline and fear.

“I’m okay now,” says Scott in a hoarse whisper, before glancing up at Grian, who’s standing a few blocks away, trying not to listen in. “Thank you for saving us, Grian. How did you know we needed help?”

“Actually, we were just on our way to plant a load of TNT under Dogwarts when we saw your predicament,” says Grian. “I know we’ve never really been allies but I couldn’t just stand around and let them kill you like that. What were they even doing?”

“Oh, god knows. Either way, I really appreciate it. If you ever need help, just call on us and we’ll be there.”

Grian nods back. “Thanks, Scott. Same to you.”

Jimmy turns his head to glare back towards Dogwarts. “They’re barbaric,” he growls. “I-I can’t believe I almost lost you.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Scott clasps Jimmy’s hand reassuringly. “I’m okay and so are you. We’ll get them next time, okay? Side by side.”

After a moment, Jimmy nods and squeezes Scott’s hand.

“Side by side.”

#3rd life smp #3rdlifesmp #solidaritygaming #smajor1995 #rendog #inthelittlewood #other 3rd lifers #vaunna’s requests

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Unforgettable Memories ( Daryl Dixon x Reader )

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger sister. You used to be in the military and have enough PTSD to last a lifetime. With Shane’s help you created the quarry camp and came across the Dixon brother’s in the woods. You bought them back to camp, but after that everything changed and you were still trying to figure out if that was a good thing or not. 

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Rick’s Sister!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Blood, guts, language (just usual twd warnings)

Chapter 18- 

You were leaning against the old broken down tractor in front of the barn, keeping an eye on the walker infested building. You didn't trust the old wooden walls of the barn to hold against a herd of a walkers and by the sound of it, there were a lot of walkers inside. 

Shouting suddenly erupted from the farmhouse and you pushed yourself off the tractor and looked over to the farmhouse to find Shane handing out guns to everyone. But before you even had a second to process what he was doing you saw Rick, Hershel and Jimmy out the corner of your eye, but they weren't alone. Turning your attention to them you quickly realised that they were leading two walkers towards the barn with snare poles around their necks. Okay, what the fuck was going on? 

Shane and the others began running towards the barn and you sighed. Well, this was just about to turn from bad to worse. 

"Shane, just let us do this and then we can talk." Rick tried to reason as Shane began yelling and shouting at your brother and Hershel, but you weren't really focused on what he was saying as pulled your assault rifle off your shoulders, wincing as you flicked the safety off with your bad hand. The whole group was there now and they had two walkers on snare poles and even more walkers in the barn behind you, like hell you weren't going to have your gun ready.

Shane continued shouting as he circled around the three of them with walkers and you spared a glance at the rest of the group, taking a mental note that T-Dog, Glenn and Andrea all had guns on them, along with Daryl who had his shotgun aimed at the walker Rick was holding.

"Hershel man, let me ask you something. Could a living breathing person, could they walk away from this?" Shane questioned as he pulled the slide back on his handgun and fired a few bullets into Hershel's walker, hitting it dead centre in the stomach.

"Shane, stop!" You and Rick both yelled, but you were probably better off talking to a brick wall at the moment.

"That's three rounds in the chest. Could someone who's alive, could they just take that?! Why is it still coming?" He shouted, firing off another two bullets. "That's it's heart, it's lungs. Why is it still coming?"

"Shane, enough." Rick yelled.

"Yeah, you're right man. That is enough." Shane responded as he marched towards the walker Hershel was holding and fired a bullet through it's skull as the walker dropped to the ground dead before Shane turned his attention back to the group. 

"That is enough. Enough risking our lives for a little girl who's gone! Enough living next to a barn full of things that are trying to kill us. Rick, it ain't like it was before. Now if y'all want to live, if you want to survive, you got to fight for it! I'm talking about fighting right here, right now!" Shane yelled as he turned around and began running towards the barn door.

"Shane, don't do this!" You shouted, running after him as you heard Rick shouting at Hershel to take his snare pole, but you were more focused on Shane who began slamming a pickaxe against the chains on the door. "Walsh! Stop!" You shouted, stopping a few metres behind him because you sure as hell weren't about to get any closer when he was this riled up and the barn was about to open.

"Shane, do not do this, brother." Rick yelled from behind you, but it was too late as you watched the broken padlock and chain fall to the ground.

"Y/N, get back." You heard Daryl shout from somewhere behind you and didn't have to be told twice as you took a few steps back and Shane did the same, drawing his pistol and aiming at the door as the walkers began stumbling out.

It didn't take long for you guys to kill the walkers, Andrea, Glenn, T-Dog and Daryl joining you and Shane as you took them down while the others stayed back. Within a minute the gunfire stopped as you stared at all the corpses scattered on the ground in front of the barn.

Nobody said anything for a few seconds as you all took in what just happened before soft groaning came from inside the barn catching your attention as you raised your rifle again, waiting for the last walker to wander out. You stared at the door, your finger resting over the trigger as the walker stumbled through the gap of the doors and your heart stopped when you realised who it was.

"Sophia? Sophia!" Carol whimpered you glanced over your shoulder just in time to watch as she tried running to her little girl before Daryl grabbed and gently lowered her ground while she cried.

You turned back towards the barn, trying to block out Carol's sobbing as you aimed your gun towards the walker. But, as you stared at her, taking in the walker bite over her shoulder, you noticed your pocket knife still clipped to the side of her pants. It was your fault. Sophia was dead, she got bit and it was your fault.

Suddenly, Rick began walking forward as he pulled out his handgun and walked towards the little girl. Tears began blurring your vision as you stared at Sophia and you lowered your rifle, dropping to your knees unable to stop the silent tears falling down your cheeks as you watched Rick pull the trigger and Sophia hit the ground.

"Don't look. Don't look." You heard Daryl say to Carol before she got out of Daryl's grip and ran back towards camp as she cried and you dropped your head. This was all your fault. This was all your fault.

"Ma." Someone sobbed and you looked up through teary eyes watching as Beth dropped down beside one of the walkers who you figured must have been her mother when suddenly the walker you thought was dead grabbed her.

You weren't quick enough to do anything as you watched the guys pull the young girl away before Andrea swung the pickaxe through the walkers head, killing it instantly while you sat where you were and watched, unable to move.

Hershel quickly grabbed his crying daughter and began walking back towards their farmhouse followed by Maggie and Patricia. Rick glanced down at you, but didn't get the chance to say anything before Shane began jogging after the Greene family and he had no choice but to chase after him.

You stayed where you were, knowing Rick could handle Shane, but even if you wanted to get up and help you doubted you could. You couldn't even tear your eyes away from Sophia's body as it laid on the ground a few metres in front of you.

"Hey, don't look at her. Just, don't look." Daryl said, crouching down in front of you, blocking your view from Sophia as you looked up at him with teary eyes, but Daryl quickly shook his head like he could read your mind. "It ain't your fault."

"Go find Carol, she shouldn't be alone right now." You whispered, hating how weak your voice sounded as you stared at Daryl.

"Nah, I ain't leavin' ya." He muttered, shaking his head as he stood up and held his hand out towards you and you sighed, but grabbed his hand with your good one and let him help you up. He pulled you into a gentle hug, surprising you by the sudden gesture, but you quickly hugged him back as tears fell down your cheeks.

-

You buried Sophia and the two members of the Greene family who were also in the barn, before you burned the rest of the walkers corpses. Carol didn't show up to Sophia's funeral, but that was the last thing on your mind when Hershel suddenly disappeared and Beth went into some kind of catatonic shock.

Rick and Glenn went after Hershel, who they thought might have went to the local bar in town, while you stayed inside the house, trying to help Beth. You weren't sure what to do, but between you, Andrea and Maggie, you kept an eye on her and tried getting her to eat and drink, but she wouldn't respond to anything.

"Y/N?" Lori suddenly called as you walked out of Beth's bedroom to find the other woman walking through the front door. "I think Daryl's starting to make a new camp away from the group. You might want to go talk to him." Lori explained and you sighed, of course Daryl was. He was probably blaming himself as much as you were blaming yourself.

"Shit." You sighed, giving Lori a grateful nod before you walked outside. The sun was starting to set along the horizon as you walked across the Greene property to where Daryl was currently sitting by an old chimney stack as he sharpened a stick with his knife.

"You're not planning on moving your tent out here, right?" You asked, catching his attention as he looked up with a shrug before looking back down again, seeming more amused by the stick than you. "I know we're both knew to this whole relationship thing, but I'm pretty sure you shouldn't just pack up and move away without telling the other person." You said as you sat down against the bricks beside him.

"I wasn't... I..." Daryl trailed off shaking his head as he struggled to find the words he was looking for. "Was still decidin' if I should or not." He admitted as he continued sharpening the stick with his hunting knife.

"Please don't move out here. The group needs you, I need you and after what happened I'm not sure what's going to happen next." You replied looking over at him as you rested your head back against the bricks watching as he lifted his head and gave you a small nod. You didn't like the idea of him sleeping out here by himself, so you were glad he wasn't going to.

"Carol hates me, she hasn't spoken to me since... we'll she hasn't really spoken to me much at all since Sophia ran away back on the highway. It's my fault she's dead. She asked me to watch her and all I did was give her daughter a knife. Sophia died and that's on me." You stated, forcing yourself not to cry as you stared out over the Greene property and watched the sunset.

"It ain't." Daryl muttered a few seconds later as he dropped the stick and tucked his knife away before moving himself closer to you until your shoulder was touching his. "I should've found her long before Otis put her in the barn. I've spent most my life out in the woods, trackin' damn animals from dusk to dawn, if anyone should've found her, it was me, but I couldn't."

"It's not your fault, Dixon. You did more for Sophia than anyone else in the group. You got shot and speared by your own bolt for that little girl. It is not your fault." You argued, turning your head towards him as your eyes locked with his.

"'N it ain't your fault either." Daryl insisted causing you to shake your head, but before you could argue any further Daryl grabbed your good hand, squeezing it gently. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds as you stared at your hands laced together and smiled softly. Actions speak louder than words.

-

By the time you and Daryl returned back to the farmhouse it was chaos. Lori had apparently gone off after Rick and then Shane had gone off after her, without so much of a conversation about it. Leaving the rest of you standing around the farmhouse not really knowing what to do. Beth was still unresponsive and Maggie refused to leave her side, but you didn't blame her because if that was one of your family members then you wouldn't either.

You spent most the night trying to comfort Carl who was going out of his mind with his mother and father out there. The poor kid just lost his best friend and now he had to worry about his parents lives as well, but luckily Shane had bought Lori back within an hour. Her car apparently crashed, but other than a few scrapes and bruises she was perfectly fine.

"Where's Rick? Where are they?" Lori questioned once she finished reassuring everyone that she was okay and you quickly glanced over at Shane who began walking away. He must have told her that Rick was back, it would've been the only way he could get her to come back to the farm, that was smart, but now she's clearly pissed.

"Look, I had to get you back here." Shane began to reason, turning around to face her and you stepped back, not wanting to get in the middle of this. You glanced around at the rest of the group as you all stood outside by their car, the moon shining brightly in the sky above you.

"You asshole. He's my husband." Lori said angrily as she glared at Shane before she began walking towards the farmhouse.

"Lori, I will go after him. I will find him. First things first I gotta look after you. I gotta make sure the baby's alright, okay?" Shane said which caused Lori to freeze where she stood as she slowly turned back around towards him. Well shit, looks like Rick or Lori told him about the baby already, but by the look on Lori's face at the moment it was clear she hadn't told anyone else.

"You're having a baby? Why didn't you tell me?" Carl suddenly questioned and for a moment you forgot he was even here as you looked over at your nephew who's face was hidden from the Sheriffs hat, so you couldn't tell if he was happy or not.

"I'm sure your parents were just waiting for the right moment to tell you, kiddo." You spoke up, breaking the awkward silence as you crouched down in front of Carl who nodded in understanding before you glanced over your shoulder towards the others. "Can you guys take Lori and Carl inside, make sure that she's alright and has something to eat?"

"Of course. Come on." Andrea quickly said as her, Maggie and Dale began taking your step sister and nephew back to the farmhouse, leaving you, Daryl and Shane standing by the car.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" Shane began to apologise before you cut him off.

"It doesn't matter. You, Rick and Lori have a lot to workout and it's none of my business, but you guys have months to do that, so right now lets just focus on getting Rick, Glenn and Hershel back." You responded, looking over at Shane who was leaning against the car as he nodded in agreement and with that the three of you began to figure out the best course of action to get the others back.

It didn't take long for you guys to come up with a plan and as much as you hated the idea of waiting until morning before going after your brother, you knew it was the best choice. It was dangerous at night and you were more than likely going to get yourselves hurt or killed instead of getting them back. So, you were going to wait until morning and take one of the cars and go into town, start at the local bar and go from there.

-

You didn't sleep at all that night, nor did you really try. You spent most the night on watch duty because like hell you were sleeping while your brother and Glenn were still out there. When you swapped with Shane on watch duty, you joined Daryl in his tent, but didn't bother to try and sleep as you laid there beside him, listening to his soft snores as you waited for daybreak which seemed like it would never come, but finally it did.

The second the sky began to light up, you were up and starting to pack the lime green car along with Shane, Daryl and T-Dog. But just as you guys were about to leave a familiar red hatchback came speeding down the dirt road towards the farmhouse and you sighed with relief. They were back.

You watched as the car drove past you guys and parked in front of the farmhouse, but you didn't miss the stranger sitting in the backseat between Glenn and T-Dog. 

You quickly jogged over to them, the others following as Rick climbed out the car first and was immediately wrapped up in a hug by Carl and followed by Lori. You wanted nothing more than to hug Rick too, but your attention was purely on the person in the backseat with a blindfold over his head. You rested your good hand over the holster of your handgun just in case.

"Patricia, prepare the shed for surgery." Hershel instructed as he climbed out the car and you frowned, your eyes quickly scanning the three of them for any injuries that you must have missed, but they all seemed fine.

You could hear Rick and Lori talking to your left as she told him about the car accident, but that wasn't really important at the moment, not when there was a stranger tied up in their car. 

"Rick, who the hell is this guy?" You questioned, cutting off their conversation as you stared at the guy, your hand still resting over your handgun, every instinct in your body telling you that whoever he was, that it wasn't anything good.

"That's Randall." Glenn answered, like that was meant to explain everything as you glanced over at the other man and raised your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to explain further before Rick spoke up.

"I'll explain everything in a minute. Let's just help Hershel get everything ready for surgery, the guy hurt his leg pretty bad." Rick instructed and with that you all began helping Hershel and Patricia move his medical gear into the shed because like hell you were letting a stranger into the house even if it was to fix his leg up.

Over the next few hours, Hershel fixed up Randall's leg while Rick and Glenn explained how they found Randall or more specifically how his group found them and tried to kill them. You listened as they spoke and tried to take in every detail, including the part about Rick killing two of their men because what if there was more of them out there?

Shane seemed to be on the same page as you, but Rick was certain that Randall's group wouldn't come looking him which then turned into another argument. But, you managed to break it off before Rick and Shane had another pissing contest and persuaded them both to just sleep on it and deal with Randall the following day.

-

However, little did you know that the following day was going to turn just as chaotic as today. Beth tried to kill herself and Hershel had to stitch up the deep cut on her wrist which wrecked the whole family. Then Maggie approached you and said that the Randall guy looked familiar for some reason, but she couldn't figure out where she had seen him from which bought forth even more issues. If she recognised Randall that meant he might know her, which then meant he might know where the farm was, which if that was true then Ricks plan of driving him 18 miles south and leaving him was stupid because he could find his way back, with his group.

"Maggie was adamant that she recognised him from somewhere. If he recognised her too then he might know where the farm is, which means your plan of driving him 18 miles south and leaving him is too risky." You stated, glancing over at Rick who was standing on the other side of the putout campfire where your group was currently standing around and trying to figure out what to do about Randall.

"What do we do then? How do we find out if he knows Maggie? It's not like he's just going to tell us." T-Dog spoke up, asking the question all of you were thinking as he glanced around at the group of you and you stared at the barn where Randall was currently tied up in.

"Y/N?" Rick asked, causing you to look away from the barn, but as soon as you saw the look on your brothers face you knew exactly what he was going to ask.

"No." You stated sternly, your eyes locking with his as you shook your head. He wanted you to get information out of Randall and you both knew there was only on way of doing that; torture. 

You had enough experience in torture to last a lifetime and you did not want to use those experiences on someone, you didn't even want to think about those experiences, those dreadful, painful months locked away in a Taliban basement. Rick and Shane were cops, they had interrogated people before, it was part of their job, but you knew Randall wouldn't just give up information about his group, Rick had already tried. No amount of police interrogation tactics would work, which again bought you back to torture.

You glanced around the group, everyone's eyes on you and Rick as they stared at you two in confusion, having no idea what you guys were talking about. Although by the sad look on Shanes face you knew he had figured it out and he was smart enough to realise that it was the only way. Rick couldn't ask anyone else to do it, none of the other women would even like the idea of torture and the other guys? They wouldn't even know where to begin, but you did.

"You can't ask me to do that." You said, focusing back on Rick as you absently rubbed at the scar over your good wrist from the tight chain that was locked around it during horrible months.

"Do what?" Glenn questioned in confusion.

Rick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he gave you a sympathetic look and boy were you getting sick of seeing that expression. "This is too much to ask. I know it is. But I have to ask it, it's the only way."

"You ask me to walk down that path... You won't like what walks back out." You warned your eyes never leaving Ricks. You knew it was the only way, it was the only way to guarantee that your group was safe. You couldn't risk Randall's group showing up and killing all of you. It was the only way.

"Wait, you're not talking about torturing him? He's a kid." Dale stated, clearly having caught on with what you two were talking about as he stared at you in disbelief, but you just nodded. There was no point trying to argue with the older man, this had to be done. He didn't want to torture the kid. You had seen what kids could do, raised the wrong way and exposed to stuff like the Taliban, they could be just as ruthless as men and you knew that. But you didn't want to torture him because you knew it would bring up old memories, memories you had spent years trying to forget.

"I'd give anything not to have you do this, you know that." Rick said sincerely and you nodded. You knew he didn't want this either, but what else could you do?

"I'll do it." Daryl spoke up from beside you and you glanced over at him to find him already looking at you. "He's a kid can't be that hard to get information from him."

"Dixon, you don't have to-" You began to say before he cut you off.

"Nah, I'll do it." He replied, adjusting the strap of his crossbow over his shoulder before he began walking off towards the barn where Randall had been tied up.

You watched Daryl until he disappeared inside before you turned back to Rick with a questioning look, but your brother just shrugged his shoulders. You didn't like the idea of Daryl having to try get the information out of the kid, he shouldn't have to do that, but you knew he did so you didn't have to and for that you were grateful.

"I still don't like this." Dale commented as the group of you began heading back towards your camp you had set up out the front of the Greene house.

"We have to make sure his group isn't going to show up in the middle of the night and kill us in our sleep. It's the only way." You responded looking over at the older man before you sat down in your deck chair by the putout campfire, resting your injured arm over your lap as everyone else followed and did the same.

"That's a bit dramatic." Dale replied.

"You don't know what people are capable of. Even before all of this, there are some seriously fucked up people out there and some of his group already tried shooting Rick, Glenn and Hershel. I'm not going to risk the rest of their group coming to finish the job." You stated, glancing around at the rest of the group to make sure that they actually understood the gravity of the situation and by the shocked looks on their faces, they did.

-

NEXT CHAPTER

-

A/N- Link in bio for Masterlist. I will reblog with my Daryl Dixon Tag List, if you want to be added to the list, just comment below. 

Alright, so it looks like this will become my usual posting time from now on. As I said in my last chapter, life has just been hectic and I’ll only be able to update on the weekends. 

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I would love to hear your thoughts below. But, until next time stay safe everyone and have a great day xx

#Daryl Dixon #The Walking Dead #Daryl Dixon x Reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #Norman Reedus #Rick Grimes #Shane Walsh

[anoldfashionedlife]

COVID-19: Sunday, April 12

Easter.

I read an article from the February issue of 1843 about headphone use in public spaces: "Headphones have destroyed our sense of common purpose,” the author writes. "A bedlam of babble in a handful of headphones.” Now, I read everything in the context of a global emergency: if we can’t be together together, how can we be alone together.

I run to Times Square. I leave my house and run my normal route to and across the Manhattan Bridge. I run a few blocks down Canal to Broadway, where I turn right and head north. Broadway will take me all the way to Times Square where it meets 7th Avenue and a whole mess of other things. It's an arterial avenue that cuts through the city from bottom to top.

I run through SoHo, which is empty. SoHo hasn’t been a “cool” neighborhood for a long time, but it’s still popular with tourists. It’s also the closest neighborhood when I need something from a big brand like CB2 or Uniqlo and don’t want to pay for shipping or wait a few days for it to arrive.

I pause at Houston because I’ve always paused at Houston. There’s little traffic so I could cross, but it seems safer to wait for the signal. “Look both ways before crossing, even when crossing a one-way street.” Advice given to incoming freshman at NYU—patronizing and comical, but useful because bikes and assholes don’t always follow the traffic rules.

I get the signal to cross, and I cross to the median where I pause once more. Out of habit I wait for any cars turning onto Houston, not paying attention to pedestrians, but there aren’t any. Everybody has different criteria for “when you become a New Yorker.” For me it was the first time I didn’t hesitate to yell at a driver turning into me as I crossed the street: “Fuck you! I’m crossing here!"

I didn’t live in New York on September 11th—I was a sophomore in high school in suburban Indiana—but I’d read accounts of New Yorkers in the days after who came out into the streets for no other reason than to be with other people, to commiserate and to mourn. Union Square was one place where they'd congregate, not only because it was a public space but because it was the largest and closest public space to the World Trade Center not cordoned off by the NYPD.

When I approach Union Square I slow down to keep my distance from others, mostly people coming out of the Whole Foods. I cross 14th Street into the park and most of the people there are homeless men, sitting on park benches with no place to go.

On the north side of Union Square I run past a bucket drummer, a nuisance in normal times but now a sort-of beacon in a sea of silence. I can hear him all the way past 19th Street three blocks away, and if there wasn’t a light breeze I could probably hear him for another few blocks.

Between 22nd and 23rd the sidewalk widens. There is plenty of space, but I run into the street to keep as much distance from others as I can. As I pass between two parked cars I lock eyes with an Asian woman who, behind a mask, looks at me as though she’s caught her pre-teen son out with friends instead of staying home to study for the PSAT: disappointment mixed with anger.

Continuing up Broadway I skirt between the Flatiron Building and Madison Square Park. Broadway between Flatiron and the ACE Hotel is an interesting mix of Yuppie District—sweetgreen, Milk Bar, Opening Ceremony—and the 28th Street Flower and Bargain Districts, but everything is closed. I run past a homeless man huddled next to an access ramp and think about white flight. In the 50s and 60s we fled to the suburbs. Today we've fled to our apartments.

I run through Herald Square and notice that the garbage cans outside Macy’s are empty. Garbage cans in Manhattan are never empty; they’re almost always overflowing with the detritus of petty consumerism: plastic Starbucks iced coffee cups, Chick-fil-A sauce, Hop-On Hop-Off bus maps.

I think about one of my favorite bars in the city, it’s nearby: Keens is one of New York’s oldest steakhouses, but if you’re not eating there—which I’ve only done twice—you can still order a drink at the bar, and they mix a good Manhattan.

I continue up Broadway and run past security personnel guarding empty office buildings and police officers patrolling empty public spaces. I make it to Times Square, and I think to myself: there are too many people here. There aren’t many people, but it still seems like too many.

I read the displays. Disney says: “Thank you to all the healthcare workers and first responders around the world / We are grateful for you.” T-Mobile says: “Please practice social distancing.” American Eagle says: “We are in this together. We are stronger together.” Clear Media says: “Not all superheroes wear capes.” Sephora says: “To all the healthcare, emergency, and social workers: \ You have our immense gratitude \ Thank you. \ We belong to something beautiful.” Green Giant says: “To all on the frontlines, you are the true giants.” Below the ball-drop is an impressive four-piece vertical public service display: “PL \ EA \ SE \ Practice \ social \ distancing \ & help \ save \ lives. \ cdc.gov/covid19 \ Prevent the spread of germs \ Please \ Stay \ Home \ When \ You \ Are \ Sick \ Prevent the spread of germs \ cdc.gov/covid19.” Amazon advertises a new album from The Strokes called The New Normal. #nystrong

What isn’t missing from Times Square is the guy who walks around carrying an “end is near” sign: “Because of sin Noah’s ark was built. No one believed him. Flood came—they perished. End is near. Judgement day is coming. Repent today. Confess Jesus as Lord and Savior. Only way to heaven.” That he isn't at whatever off-brand church he belongs to on Easter makes his message a bit less convincing.

I think about another one of my favorite bars in the city: Jimmy’s Corner, an old-school bar with boxing memorabilia covering the walls. You’d think in a place like Times Square it was actually owned by Yum! Brands or something, but you can find Jimmy there most nights.

I leave Times Square and run east on 42nd Street. Bryant Park is utterly empty. No homeless men, no vagabonds. Nobody except me and a park employee tending to the garbage cans, replacing one empty bag with another.

The emptiness isn’t surprising, but I should explain why. Since its inception the Bryant Park Corporation has been particularly aggressive in keeping out undesirables. First by removing park benches and adding metal tables and chairs. William H. Whyte, an urbanist in the 1970s, championed them as giving park users a semblance of agency in public space without actually providing it.

More importantly, removing park benches eliminated a surface on which homeless people could sleep. Over time, more and more features were added: upscale food for sale, movie nights on the lawn in the summer, a skating rink in the winter, Fashion Week. Sharon Zukin describes it as “pacification by cappuccino.”

Urban thinkers and advocates have been asking this question for years: Who’s city is this anyway?

I run a few blocks east to Grand Central. Once inside I don’t break pace as I run down the ramp towards the main concourse. For some reason this doesn’t strike me as unusual until I reach the main concourse. Shocked, I stop and take in the sight of an empty, cavernous space normally brimming with activity: commuters catching a train upstate if they don’t live in the city, the subway if they do; tourists careening their necks up to the ceiling painted with the constellations; me grabbing a drink at The Oyster Bar or Campbell’s Apartment, just because.

I’m lucky that my friends and family haven’t been infected by coronavirus; the hardest thing so far has been weeks of quarantine. I haven’t cried during this pandemic—I’m no “boys don’t cry” kind of boy, but doing so seems like an admission that things won’t resemble “normal” for quite some time. But standing here, taking in the sight of my city hollowing out like this, I tear up.

I turn around and run back home. I run down Madison Avenue to Madison Square Park. I turn left onto 23rd Street and then right onto Park Avenue South. Left onto 18th Street, right onto 3rd Avenue, left onto 12th Street, right onto 2nd Avenue. I cross Houston and take Forsyth to the Manhattan Bridge back to Brooklyn.

Back home I put a bottle of sparkling wine in the freezer, but it doesn’t fit because it’s full of frozen food, so I put it in my oversized ice bucket that once graced the tables and suites at the Waldorf Astoria. I bought it salvage a while back and don’t use it as often as I’d like: it fits two bottles comfortably, but one bottle looks silly, like a kid wearing his dad’s tuxedo jacket. I was hoping it’d be a fixture of backyard barbecues this summer, but that seems unlikely.

For dinner I make Ethiopian food. The doro wat turns out quite well, but the injera that’s been fermenting for a few days is an utter failure. I eat the stew with rice.

[xshow-me-some-moxie]

We’re Back...with Snacks

["Cin! Still— ah, damn it— still with us, doll?"]

{"…Yes. What isss— Happening. To us?"}

["We couldn't answer that, not really, just as in the dark as Cin when it came to this particular brand of dimensional travel. We're going back, Cin."]

{"Back. …Home?"}

["It should have been, a few weeks ago it would have been. But, a lot changed in a few weeks. Now when we thought about home it wasn't our empty cave and alimony checks we thought of, but a pair of fierce purple ({"Blue."}) …purple eyes, a wicked smile, the best natural instincts we've ever seen, and a serious need for someone to watch out for her so she didn't run herself into the ground. The only one who would miss us in our universe was Aunt May, and God knew she was the last person who needed us. May was the strongest, most independent person we knew, she would understand why we had to leave."]

{"Ssso…back. Then home. Again."}

["Yeah, Cin, we're going back."]

Going back took Noir nearly two years.

After a painful reentry to his apartment, the first thing he did was check that Carcinogen survived the transition, and when she was no worse for wear he took in his apartment and was mortified. It was a disaster. He wasn't particularly meticulous when it came to cleaning (especially because the FBI boys who stopped in more often than he liked always left the place a mess, so what was the point?), but this was bad and…extensive? It wasn't just a mess made, but things had been moved, the dust patterns different all around the room.

It was like…

Behind his mask Noir's eyes narrowed and then he was moving to his bedroom, throwing the door open. The sight he was greeted with had him scowling, nothing was where he left it. Someone had been living in his apartment. Noir was getting a headache, and that was before he found a calendar and realised that three years had gone by.

After that Noir decided to get very drunk before he figured out what to do next.

It took Noir nearly a year to get his affairs back in order after having been gone for three years. He wasn't sure how the other him had managed to inhabit his life for three years, but he'd managed to gum up the works in a spectacular manner. And while he wasn’t planning on staying in his dimension longer than he had to (or coming back, for that matter), Karn had made it clear it would take time to locate Gwen and so Noir was forced to ungum the works while he waited.

Quite a bit of the next year was spent in Loomworld, Noir doing his best to not let Carcinogen goad him into actually shooting Karn. The Master Weaver was having trouble locating Gwen and Noir had no patience for it. The only thing that kept him from pulling the trigger was the fact he knew he couldn't get back to Gwen without him…and he didn't want to deal with Billie's reaction— he was betting it would be more than his Disappointed Face.

Finally, the day came that Karn found the proper thread and informed Noir that he found Gwen. Noir spared only the time to pack three web sacks, one full of junk food that he knew his girl would appreciate, one full of his own essentials including a spare suit and his winter gear (and the recipe for egg creams which he had had to wrangle out of a bartender he knew), and the other full of lead.

Noir had assumed the trip back to Dollface's dimension wouldn't be that bad as he'd travelled via Karn's web more than once in the past, but this was different. Heat followed at his back and when he appeared on the rooftop of his building he immediately collapsed the burning getting worse despite the fact the rain was coming down in sheets.

"Aaargh!" The sound of his yell was dampened by the rain, Noir curling into a ball, fingers dragging at his shoulders and neck. His skin felt like it was on fire. Like he could feel every single one of Cin's millions of tiny legs and they were all red hot.

["Cin, why—"] "Damn it!" ["Why are we hurting us?!"]

{"NOT US. Hurtsss, Noir. Sscared."}

Writhing on the rooftop Noir realised just how much trouble he was in. If this wasn't Cin, and it wasn't him, it had to be something with this kooky bubble and since it turned him into a vampire last time he wasn't looking forward to whatever it was doing this time.

["We had never felt pain that bad—"] in his life. It was ["like we were being ripped apart from—"] the inside out. The only thing he knew for ["certain was that the source of the pain was—"]

{"NO!"}

Noir screamed as the symbiotic mass wrapped even more tightly around him— whatever was going on in this dimension was causing his body to reject the bond which made the symbiotes hug feel more like death. ["We can't take this, Cin! Too much—"] "more and we're going" ["to kill us!"] Despair was in both his voice and his thoughts, not wanting to break the bond, but it was becoming more and more clear that if they didn't they weren't going to survive.

{"…Leave alone?"}

Noir grit his teeth even as he forced his hands to pat his pockets, desperately searching for the flask he kept on his person. ["Not—"] "for lon—" ["g. We promise."] Shaking hands had finally managed to find the flask, but his fingers were trembling too violently for him to unscrew the cap. "Damn!" This time when he yelled Carcinogen yelled with him, the sound terrifyingly inhuman as dark tendrils lashed out at the rain.

["Please, Cin, if we—"] "die then Cin is" ["alone forever. No Noir."]

For a moment he thought Cin's immediate fear of being separated from him was going to outweigh her desire to keep him alive, but then three thin tendrils reached for the cap of the flask twisting it open. Noir's entire body sagged, relief mixing with the pain. ["Thank you, Cin. It won't be"] "for forever." Only until Noir figured out what the hell was going on.

{"Noir."}

As much as Noir had learned about symbiotes in the past two years he still wasn't sure if they felt emotions the same way people did, but even through the pain and the fear he felt himself get choked up and it wasn't because of the pain. ["We know, Cin. Us too."]

The cap flipped open then and Carcinogen streamed inside, ejecting the web sacks she’d been storing in her mass onto the roof next to Noir and consuming the egg cream the flask had been filled with to make room for all of her. As the last tiny spider crawled inside a black tendril snaked out of the mouth, grabbed the cap, and pulled it down, twisting it tightly closed from the inside.

As the immediate connection between them broke Peter was in a completely different kind of pain, the physical replaced with that of loss and the feeling of being utterly alone for the first time in two years. Curling himself around the flask Peter wasn't sure how long he shook before he was all cried out, but he was definitely soaked through by the time he sat up.

Now that he wasn't in massive amounts of pain (just bearable amounts, the effects of the rejected bond lingering) the man was able to take in the world around him and he realised immediately that he was no longer enhanced. He couldn't hear anything but the rain pounding on the rooftop, and when he looked at the web sacks next to them they were blurry blobs more than sacks.

["No wonder w—"] 

Peter swallowed hard, letting that train of thought go so that he didn't have to think about the fact that he was once again an 'I' instead of a 'We'.

Thankfully, despite losing Carcinogen's suit, Peter wasn't completely naked, his trench coat and fedora the same ones he had always worn. His movements were slow as he dragged the sack with his own belongings in it to him, tearing it open with some difficulty to extract his original black suit. Changing out in the rain wasn't the smartest idea he'd ever had, but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

Once he was dressed he gathered up the bags with a bit of difficulty, forgetting what it was like to move without preternatural balance and agility. He was at least able to carry the weight. He wasn't as strong as he normally was, but he'd been tall and broad even before the spider bit him and he still seemed to possess the muscles he had gained from two decades of web swinging and punching bad guys.

With Cin's flask safely tucked away in an inside pocket of his trench Peter made his way down the fire escape. Even moving slowly he nearly slipped on the wet metal twice, and it was a relief to reach his window. Jimmying the window up Noir ducked inside, immediately tripping over a hamper someone had left in front of the window, curling in on himself as he rolled, landing on his back near the middle of the living room, grimacing behind his mask, the web sacks scattered over the floor around him.

"Dang nabbit, Dollface!"

@spideyygwen

#spideyygwen #We’re Back...with Snacks #rp #1x1 #0700: with great power #ch: gwen

[kucheek]

out of breath - m.b.

requested: yes!

request: Can I request a surprise proposal? Like he surprises you and it’s really well planned. Also, picking out a wedding dress and his reaction when you walk down the aisle. I love your writing so much!

// Here’s a surprise proposal! This turned out waaay longer than I intended haha but with a proposal you’re gonna need to go in. I’m not sure how’d I’d really be able to write a wedding dress imagine since I’m not sure how’d I’d be able to work Jimmy in there but if anyone has a suggestion by all means lmk please!...a wedding reaction imagine will be coming for sure! Again, let me know what you think! :) //

-o-o-o-o-o

You hadn’t thought much about the way Jimmy had been acting up until now. He was stressed out about a few upcoming videos and he still had another two to film before next week, so he was understandably overwhelmed. 

Now, normally during videos you’d never compete. You’d help with the set up, clean up, and give random commentary during the video. 

So when Jimmy asked you to actually be a key player in one of his videos for next week, you were surprised. He wouldn’t tell you exactly what you’d be doing just to be ‘prepared to scream’, which worried you immensely and not just because of the strange wording. 

When the day eventually came, you didn’t even know it was the day. He woke you up at the crack of dawn and with a flurry, managed to get you to pack an overnight bag. You, on the other hand, was still in shock. Both from lack of sleep and the fact that Jimmy was not a morning person. Usually you’re the one that has to try and regulate his sleeping schedule to a more normal level, to no avail. 

After an hour of getting everyone together, you still didn’t have any answers. There were eight of you and everyone refused to tell you where you were going or what you were doing.

“I swear to God, we better not get arrested for something stupid.” You warned all of them, their wide I-know-something-you-don’t-know grins seemed to double.

And when Jimmy brought out a blindfold, you were definitely not on board.

“Nope,” you asserted, crossing your arms across your chest and turning away, “no way in hell you’re getting me in that.”

“Not like it’ll be the first time,” Chris teases to the camera before you threw him the best glare you could muster.

Jimmy immediately waved his hands in front of the camera, “family-friendly channel! Family-friendly channel!”

“It’ll only take like an hour tops.” Chandler tried convincing you but it did the opposite. “You want me to be in a blindfold for an hour?!”

“Nice going, Chandler! Now she’s not going to do it!”

“I was trying to convince her!”

“Try harder!”

“I’d like to see you try! Go on!”

This went on for the next 10 minutes. Seriously. And in the end, you ended up being in the stupid blindfold.

-----

“Where are we going?” You asked suspiciously, waving your arms around you slightly away from your body, to avoid hitting anyone. You could only imagine how this looked, being maneuvered around by 7 guys to...you didn’t even know. You could only fathom you were at a bus stop or an airport, considering you had an overnight bag. 

Or did you still have it?

Maybe this was a prank or something and you were being made to think you were going somewhere.

But the more you thought about it, the less it made sense. The lot of you had already spoken to many people, implying that you were actually going somewhere. And only a few minutes ago, Chris had mentioned that you were going towards the seats. Unless this was just some drawn out ploy they were playing at.

With those thoughts, you were about to rip off the blindfold before Jimmy finally spoke, “OK. You can take off your blindfold.” You immediately pulled it off and blinked a bit to clear up your vision. You saw that you were staring at an airport aisle, “what are we..?” You drew out your question and looked at him.

“Sit down! It’s for the video.” He insisted, ushering you towards the window, before turning to the camera, “I even gave her the window seat.”

“Such a gentleman.” Garrett exclaimed, sitting down in across from you and next to Chris. 

“I’m so confused. What are we doing?” You laughed nervously and all you got in return was a few half-hearted ‘you’ll see’. After a few more minutes of trying to pry where you were going, you figured you’d just wait until the pilot came over the speaker to give you the answer to your long-winded question. Unfortunately, the boys really had thought of everything because soon enough, Jimmy forced noise cancelling headphones on you for the next few minutes.

After you got the cue, you slipped them off and asked again, where the hell they were taking you.

“Just be patient,” Chris said while turning around and crossing his arms, setting them on the headrest, “we’ll be there in 8 hours.”

“8 hours?!” 

-----

“You dragged me across the country.” You said, dryly, staring at the huge ‘WELCOME TO SACRAMENTO’ sign, “to go to Sacramento? What’s here?”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Chris sang, “we’re doing something super fun.”

-----

“I’m not doing this,” you stood near the door, ready to make a break for it, “I’m serious, I don’t like heights.” Your hand were shaking as you pointed to everyone individually, “and you all know this. I’m not jumping off a freaking-whatever it is I’m jumping off of.”

“It’ll be fun!” Ethan said, “well I assume it’ll be. I’m not doing it.”

“Me neither.”

“Same.”

Pretty soon, it was just you and Jimmy that hadn’t said anything.

“Wait, is it just you and I that are doing it?” You exclaimed, pointing at Jimmy, “what kind of video is that?! We should all do it together!”

Jimmy laughed, “what happened to ‘I’m not doing this at all’ and now you want everyone to do it?”

“I’m not trying to die alone!”

“Y/N, you’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not!” You hissed, gripping the doorknob, “I’m not doing it!” You both stared at each other while Tareq moved the camera back and forth between the two of you.

You jumped forward quickly when the door swung open and the instructor bounced in, “alright! Who’s ready to bungee jump?!”

-----

“It was fun,” You admitted finally while the boys cheered at your statement. You had just gotten back onto solid ground and your heart was still beating wildly with adrenaline. 

Jimmy gave you a big smile, “that’s great! Because we’re going again!” He flung an arm around you dramatically and turned you back towards where you began. You bowed down and let his arm slide off in shock. 

“Surprise!” Jake exclaimed.

“Woah, woah, woah,” you held your hands out in front of you defensively, “I said it was fun, not that I’d do it again. And certainly not in the same day!”

“Come on! You’ve done it once, now you have some nice experience.” Garrett pointed out before turning to the camera and giving a thumbs up.

“We have footage!” You insisted, “a lot of footage! Of yelling and screaming and possible death, we don’t need to do it again.”

“This wouldn’t be a Mr.Beast video, if we didn’t do unnecessary things,” Chris laughed, “you’ll be fine!”

“Jimmy, what if this time my cord breaks? I’m going to die and it’s going to be your fault,” you deadpanned, allowing him to steer you back again, just the two of you. The rest of the boys following a ways behind, going to wait for you after the jump as they did for the first time. 

“You’re not going to die,” he rolled his eyes, “and if your cord breaks, I'll break mine too so we’ll both die.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you teased before peering down with a grimace, “but death by bungee jumping, isn’t the way I want to go out.”

---

Bungee jumping twice was something that you’d never even dreamt of doing. In fact you never even thought you’d do it once but here you were hanging upside down, laughing and trying to keep a tight hold on Jimmy. 

Eventually you were both back up on the ledge and you took a deep breath,  exhaling loudly. Your arms were wide open while staring at the amazing scenery around you. After a minute of taking it all, your eyes sparkling with happiness, you yelled at the the boys who were a few feet away, “that was awesome! OK, I’ll admit it, the second time was way better.” You spun around happily to face Jimmy and he was down on a knee. 

On. One. Knee.

Your smile faded and you were still out of breath, “what are you...?”

“I’m proposing.”

“You’re-you’re...proposing?”

“Yes.” 

“I can’t breath.” You panted, “but shouldn’t you...” you motioned your hands, “say something else.”

“I was.” He admitted, eyes locked on yours and he shifted his knee, “but I just completely blanked when I saw you.”

Your heart felt as though it was about to pump out of your chest and when Jimmy said, “Will you marry me?” You damn near went into cardiac arrest.

“I-yes!” You laughed, covering your mouth with both hands, “yes! yes, yes, yes! Oh my God, are you sure?”

“Yes!” He repeated, the most amazing smile on his face as he got up and grabbed your left hand. 

“You have a ring, oh my God.”

“Duh, I have a ring.”

-o-o-o-o-o

//  the video title would 100% be: I Made My Girlfriend Bungee Jump Twice & Then I Proposed //

#mr beast #mr beast imagine #mrbeast #mrbeast imagine #youtuber #youtuber imagine

[johnny2071]

F is for Family - Bill’s Letter and Apology (Deconstructed)

Bill running away and finally calling out his parents is a major turning point in his character arc, and hopefully, the entire family. In these connected scenes, there's a lot of deep contexts, and I will be analyzing each of them. If anyone here has ever watched Mystery Science Theater 3000, Rifftrax, or any Channel Awesome reviews, you should understand what I'm doing here. Pay close attention to everything written in parenthesis within the transcript, as I will explain each note at the end. Bill's Letter: ----------------- Dear Mom and Dad, By the time you find this note, I will be long gone because I'm running away. Dad, I'm sure you won't care too much being that I'm such a big disappointment to you and I'm always bothering you with my problems. And I know you think I'm a pussy. My reasons for saying this are A, I heard you say it to Mom (Bill was there during the bedroom argument). In conclusion, I'm sure you will all be better off without me (Bill has been burned or neglected by all four members of the family). Mom, I'll remember to brush my teeth (No ill will?). Maureen, even though I'll be gone forever, you still can't have my room (Bill's less-than-kind sister has been moved into his bedroom space). And Kevin, you were doing something (Bill is that turned off by his masturbating, followed by his usual excuse). Sincerely yours, Bill. P. S. Watch out for Phillip (Who has a murderous mind and has gone ballistic twice). Bill's Calls Out His Parents & Rescue: ----------------- Frank: Bill, we're here! Daddy's gonna save you! Bill: Go to hell! (Bill strikes!) Frank: What the fuck did you just say to me? Bill: I'm fucking mad at you! You don't care about me, Dad! You never cared about me! You didn't take me to hockey tryouts because your stupid fat boss was eating chocolate in your truck. Pogo: (*"Now, there comes a point where a reasonable man will swallow his pride and admit that he's made a terrible mistake. The truth is, I was never a reasonable man"*) A Puerto Rican forced me to do that! (Pogo proves that he's not a reasonable man to own up to his mistakes) Bill: All you ever do is yell at me and call me a pussy. A guy exploded in front of me and you told me to shove it down. And when I needed you today, you told me, "Not now." Well how about now, Dad? (Bill has called out his old man) Frank: Jesus Christ, he's right. Son. I'm I'm sorry. I have been a terrible father lately. (Frank finally gets it, ….for now) Sue: Your father is very sorry, Bill. (Latching onto someone else's apology like a captain's parrot) Bill: I'm mad at you too, Mom! (You ain't off the hook, honey!) Sue: What? (MGS alert sfx) Bill: You spent all your time with that stupid scissor-spoon that I cut my fingers on! (Bill clearly holding back for some reason) Sue: (*cue Shopping Jaunt music*) It was called the Forkoontula, and it's still in the development stages, but you're right. It's just this new baby coming really threw us for a loop and then we got all wrapped up with the new neighbors. (How to construct an legitimate excuse over an apology to a very upset 11-year old boy) Mrs. Vanderheim: Well, I guess I ain't such a bad mother after all. [BLOWJOB] (Crass humor fodder insert) Sue: But that's all over now. (What's over? The pregnancy? The dead/arrested neighbors? The Forkoontula? The abuse?) Frank: And we're sorry. (Frank either hijacks Sue's "apology" for more .temp glory, or spares her the burden of responsibility) I told myself I'd be a better father than my own dad, and that starts now. You kids mean…. you mean a lot to me. I love you people. Just please come on home. We'll talk about it. (Which is either forgotten, or a discussion is had among the parents, while the children are elsewhere having zero-input) Bill: Can I have my old room back to myself? (A wish off the top of his head) Sue: Of course! Frank: Jesus, Sue, the house is a fucking mess! Sue: Frank! Frank: Sure. Your own room again. (Wish granted) Bill: I just want to go home. (Bill is back) Epilogue: ----------------- Frank: Well, I know things got a little crazy this summer. But now your mom and I, we got our priorities straight. Sue: Our most important job is being your parents. And I swear to you, we'll never forget that again. (Good luck with Frank's jerk father and your pregnancy still a thing) Notes: -Bill was there during the bedroom argument - Bill's parents knowing this is important, because the last time he mentioned this, the entire matter was preempted in favor of Major going missing. It should also tell them that he fully knows about their sex act right afterwards, and raise the question of why was Bill underneath the bed in the first place and not in school? He was suspended that day. Why was he suspended? He got into a fight with Jimmy Fitzsimmons. Why did he get into a fight? Fitzsimmons harassed him on Halloween night, when he was left home alone. -Bill has been burned or neglected by all four members of the family - Frank has been abrasive towards him, like every else he screams at. Maureen has zero-respect for him, blackmailed him, and was the first one to push him over the edge. Even Kevin (who isn't the friendliest guy) has begun to sour towards Bill as early as Season 2. And Sue, the one person you think would be closer to Bill (unlike of rest of Frank's personal juniors, Boy-Frank and Girl-Frank), has been nothing but hostile towards him in the rare moments they actually interact, for next to nothing. -No ill will? - After the way Sue has been hostile towards Bill, including this season, all the Bill has to say is that he ensures her of proper hygiene, a response so generic, he has nothing notable to say specifically to her in his goodbye letter. -Bill's less-than-kind sister has been moved into his bedroom space - After the way Maureen has treated him in the past, Bill is not fond of sharing his bedroom space with her, or giving her the satisfaction of ownership of his room. -Bill is that turned off by his masturbating, followed by his usual excuse - Given Kevin's boy-ish nature and questionable means of pleasure, and the fact that Bill's mind hasn't sexually matured yet (since he's barely in double digits), close encounters with sex-related matters make him squick very hard. In short, Bill is disgusted by Kevin for this. -Who has a murderous mind and has gone ballistic twice - Bill has already seen Phillip's kill book, depicted horrible acts of torture and murder to anyone who upsets him. Phillip himself has also flipped out at Bill for so much as liking a girl. Not to mention Phillip completely losing it on the Hobo Jojo Show. -Bill strikes! - After all the abuse both his family and the outside world has finally put him through, Bill finally lashes out at his father, all while hanging on for dear life. Frank and Sue finally come face-to-face with Bill's rage, something that's been long overdue since episode 5. -Pogo proves that he's not a reasonable man to own up to his mistakes - A reference from a quote from Big Fish. This was originally meant for Frank, except he does just that. Sue is a good alternative, but not only would the quote not make sense out of context, but Sue actually dances around this. Naturally, Pogo has been as much (if not more) of an asshole as Frank. I got the whole quote idea from a YouTuber's video. -Bill has called out his old man - In this season alone, Frank has been horribly dismissive towards all three of his children, especially when they needed his attention/any helpful advice the most. Here, Bill actually succeeds in calling Frank out on just that. -Frank finally gets it, ….for now - Frank, who's been extremely close-minded of anything his children say, actually has his mind opened by Bill, and is nearly left speechless. For the first time ever, Frank sincerely apologizes the Bill for being a bad father. However, this Frank we're talking about. Believe it or not, this isn't the first time Frank has made a passionate speech or apology. In fact, he has done this for each season final up to this point. By now, you would think that he would've because a better person by now. However, this show brands itself on bitterness and misery, and unfortunately, gets nothing but praise for it. In order for the show to keep its bitterness, Frank has to remain an over-the-top salty, powder keg, jerkass. Based on what resonates with this show's audience, it's Frank's defining trait, down to his threatening catchphrase, which is used towards the people he spends most of his interaction with: his children. Based on this and his track record of resetting back to default each season, it seems impossible and and out of character for Frank to change, much like Bojack Horseman (a character who actually tries to change, despite many characters in that show closing their doors on him). -Latching onto someone else's apology like a captain's parrot - Rather than apologize herself for her own mistakes, Sue decides to chime in and repeat back to Bill what Frank had just said, like a parrot or a one-dimensional yes man. -You ain't off the hook, honey! - It's good to know that Bill has resentment towards his mother as well, considering that she was actually worse to him than Frank was, even though the show tries to pretend that these moments never happened, yet throw off people (especially those hoping for better) by giving us more when we least expect it (or when scenario do not call for it at the slightest). You can tell that Bill (despite his situation and limited rage) is using this opportunity as his best bet to call BOTH parents out (since he's been a victim of bad timing and has run out of steam before he can get started, leaving him vulnerable). -MGS alert sfx - A sound effect from Metal Gear Solid that should've played alongside Sue's ridiculous reaction. what's baffling here is the fact that she's that shocked that Bill is angry at her, as if she's done nothing wrong to him, as if she's been nothing but kind to him, as if one of her children holding hostility towards her is such an outrageous out-of-the-left-field concept. It just sounds so fake coming from her, almost as cartoonish as The Simpsons, in a show trying to be as dark and real as possible. -Bill clearly holding back for some reason - Out of all the things Sue has said and done to Bill up to this point, THIS is the thing Bill decides to call out on. It's almost as Bill had a brief flashback of all the Sue-Bill moments and intentionally held back, by only referencing the most immediate she's done during the summer, or at this point, he's literally running out of steam and doesn't have enough stamina and anger to call her out on everything else (like he did with Frank). He isn't WRONG about all her time going into the Forkoontula, and the invention DID amplify Sue's ugly side. However, Bill was unintentionally spared from any instances of Sue's wrath pertaining to the Forkoontula. The only who wasn't so lucky and got the cold shoulder/venom is Maureen. "The Stinger" and "Punch Drunk" are prime examples. -*Cue Shopping Jaunt music*/How to construct an legitimate excuse over an apology to a very upset 11-year old boy - Shopping Jaunt is a public domain stock music piece often associated with assembly line production sequences. This is a reference to Sue/Laura Dern's lack of sincere emotion and patronizing/near-robotic delivery in her line. It's the equivalent of a someone making an announcement over an intercom in a professional environment, as opposed to a mother deeply apologizing to her son. Hell, she doesn't say "I'm sorry" to the the boy, not even once. Instead, she just brings up the news of the baby, as well as the new neighbors as the cause of their problems. The baffling thing is, it's not like Sue/Laura isn't capable of delivering a sincere apologetic tone. She did in episode 4 of this season after she learns the truth of what the other wives though of her invention, and actually apologizes to Marie for yelling at her. -Crass humor fodder insert - Did we really need this? This is supposed to be an emotional moment where the family finally sees first hand how upset Bill truly is, and finally gets his dues. But the impact is muddled by an insert scene of yet another crude one-note, one-dimensional, one-timer character taking up already limited screentime (given Bill's situation, how late in the season it is, and how late in the act it is). -What's over? The pregnancy? The dead/arrested neighbors? The Forkoontula? The abuse? - In a show like this that tries to stay faithful to its branding and reputation its built up, what exactly does Sue even mean by that? Last time we checked, Sue's still pregnant, and they only have a few months left. Will she decide NOT to have a fourth child and get an abortion, even this late? If she's referring to the new neighbors, of course that's over, since Nguyen-Nguyen poisoned Chet and got arrested. Will Sue finally give up on the Forkoontula (and future inventions), considering how it's bought out the worst in her and caused problems or everyone else, and focus on improving as a person and communicating with her children (which brings us to the "end of abuse" factor)? -Frank either hijacks Sue's "apology" for more .temp glory, or spares her the burden of responsibility - We've seen Frank constantly attempt to make up for his recent mistakes enough times already (spoiler alert: Someone like him, especially in this show, can never change). Why not have Sue be a person for once and own up to her mistakes. Just one apology to her children (in this case, Bill, and to a further extent, Maureen). "Sue: And I'm very sorry, Bill, for the horrible way I've acted as a mother." Is that honestly too good for Bill, or the viewers? We get it. Frank is the main character, but when you have a character like Sue act that scary and hostile towards the ones that don't deserve it, they have to take responsibility for their actions and amend for it so they can be sympathetic/likeable again, especially if they're part of the main cast: the family. -Which is either forgotten, or a discussion is had among the parents, while the children are elsewhere having zero-input - The phrase "we'll talk about it/we'll talk about this later" has been used very loosely in this series, with almost no promise, delivery, or payoff behind it. In the Murphy family, do they even HAVE family discussions? Do they actually talk with the children, instead of just barking orders and threats? Do Frank and Sue actually care about their opinions and how they feel, or just how they APPEAR to feel? At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't "talk about it" at all, especially after five months of dead silence after the events of season 2, only for similar mistakes to return and get as bad as they did in this season. -A wish off the top of his head - Bill sees that his parents are desperately pleading for his return, so he uses this opportunity to ask them for anything as a reason to come home. But considering who his parents are, Bill simply asks for the first thing he can think of in reason. -Wish granted/Bill is back - With this request granted, Bill is ready to return home, and his resentment towards his family has faded. With that said, is this the end of Bill's character arc? Will Frank and (mainly) Sue get along better with him, and the rest of their children? -Good luck with Frank's jerk father and your pregnancy still a thing - Despite Sue's promise to never forget that "being their parents is their most important job", there's still the matter of Sue's pregnancy, and all the hormones that make an already volatile person worse. Also, the introduction of Frank's jerkass father, who will have no problem driving everyone in the house crazy with his baggage (based on Frank's experiences with the man). And even without those glaring issues, what exactly does Sue mean by that? More work specifically for Frank (the least-suited man for the job)? Or does it mean simply mean paying more attention to their kids, but without improving communication/reasoning with them, and being more hostile towards them, over the slightest infraction at the wrong time/mood? In conclusion, I was initially ecstatic over S3E10 (since it was the closest we were going to get to a true happy ending, especially after all the crap that went down in season 2), but after I did more research (since I actually didn't sit through this season and skipped to a transcript of the season finale) and learned about everything else that happened, I learned that this ending wasn't enough to make up for it.

#f is for family #bill murphy #bill burr #frank murphy #sue murphy #analysis #breakdown #frank the father #bill murphy's night off #season 3 #season 4 #netflix #2018 #critical thought

[nevermindthewind]

the ultimate trick-or-treat

shout out to @startofamoment for all the help and to everyone who’s let me yell about this fic for the past couple days!! you guys are the freaking best.

Amy goes into labor during the Halloween Heist. But is it for realz or just a part of her genius plan?

Read on ao3 or under the cut.

The morning of the seventh Halloween Heist starts like every other.

Jake wakes up to his alarm blaring at an ungodly hour. BUT, instead of throwing it across the room like he’d normally do he pops up with a start, his mind racing with all of the things he needs to do to be ready for the day.  He’s already dressed, having slept in his favorite navy plaid shirt and jeans just for the occasion. All he has to do is brush his teeth and throw on his lucky dress sneakers and he’ll be ready to go.  

It’s been far too long since he’s won a heist, but this year he’s determined to be the precinct’s most amazing human/genius. He’s planned everything; all his pieces are in place and he’s triple checked his alliance with Charles (no Bill this year - he may or may not have been arrested when Nutriboom went under a few months ago). No tramps will bring him down today. Not on his watch.

He’s just about to run through the plan for the thousandth time when a snore, a giant, earth-shattering snore snaps Jake out of his little daydream.

He looks over and sees Amy lying to face him, her mouth wide open as she continues to make noises loud enough to wake the dead. Her silhouette is barely visible, but Jake is just able to make out the curve of her ever-growing baby bump.

A sleepy smile creeps across Jake’s face. Even with the snores and the tiny bit of drool that was pooling on her pillow, she really is the most gorgeous being on the planet. 

Another snore, this one so loud Amy wakes herself up with a start. She snaps her head up and looks around, trying to find the source of the noise.

“What was that?”

Jake stifles a laugh. “That was you, babe.”

Amy squints up at him, cocking her head in adorable confusion. “It was? You sure?”

“Oh I’m sure. The little peanut’s had you snoring up a storm for the past week.”

“Seriously?!” she groans, flopping back down on the bed. She rolls her head over to look at Jake, who’s trying very hard not to crack a smile, and glares up at him. “I love this baby but it can give my body back to me anytime.”

Jake kisses her forehead. Watching Amy go through all the different stages of pregnancy has been incredible and beautiful and absolutely insane in the best way. However he hates that she’s so uncomfortable and there’s nothing he can do about it. “I know. Soon, Ames. 38 weeks today, right?”

“Mhm,” she nods. “Baby’s the size of a pumpkin now. Fitting.”

“See!” Jake exclaims. “Just a little longer and they’ll be outta there.” He takes her hand and gives it a squeeze before jumping out of bed and giving her a sly smile. “Until then, I have a heist to win.”

Amy gives him a look.

“Don’t you mean I have a heist to win?”

Jake scoffs. “Sure, Ames. You keep telling yourself that.”

“Excuse me?” Amy crosses her arms. “What makes you think I won’t kick your ass this year? I’ve won more heists than you, I’ll have you know.”

“False. We’ve won the same number of heists. We tied during the fifth one and you know it. Plus, I have a foolproof plan that not even your genius brain will be able to crack.”

“Because your foolproof plans have worked so well in the past?”

"Managed to surprise you, didn't I?"

Amy rolls her eyes, but the corners of her lips give her away as they curl into a smile.

"You got me there."

Jake returns her grin as he makes his way into the bathroom. The two of them get ready in record time. Even with Amy's ever-present waddle and her needing to pee every fifteen minutes they still manage to get out the door with plenty of time to get to the precinct and ensure their respective plans are ready to be put into motion. However Jake can't help but notice Amy is walking even slower than normal, and she already seems exhausted.

He checks in with her one last time before they head to the car.

"Babe?"

"Hmm?"

He pauses, not sure how to approach the subject without getting his head ripped off.

"Now, before I say anything, I want you to know I'm only asking because I care about you and the Peanut. In no way does this question have to do with the heist -- well, it kind of does. But still, I just --"

"Spit it out, Peralta."

Jake sighs.

"You sure you're up for this? The heist, I mean? I know you're able to make your own decisions and it's your body so if you want to go I will support you 110% but, I don't know, I just would hate for you to be uncomfortable or in pain all day. If you want, we can totally call it off."

Amy cuts him off by placing her hand on his chest.

"You're so sweet," she starts with a genuine smile. Her eyes flash playfully. "But babe, I am always up for beating you. I played you in a Jimmy Jabs my first trimester, didn't I?"

"Yeah and you threw up twice," Jake points out.

"Details, details," Amy says, giving him a dismissive wave. Jake's not convinced, which Amy can clearly see based on the look he's giving her. She takes her other hand, grabs one of Jake's, and places it on her belly. He can feel the baby kicking like crazy under her shirt.

I'll never get used to that.

"See? We're both okay," she whispers, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I promise."

"But what if something happens?" Jake can't help but ask.

"Tell you what," says Amy. "If I need a break, I'll...I'll itch my butt. Take it back to my Isabel Cortez days.” Jake laughs at that. “That'll be our sign, our code word. Would that make you feel better?"

He lets out a sigh of relief. "Yes."

"Okay, perfect." Amy kisses his cheek before letting go of his hand. "Now let's go. Like you said, I have a heist to win!"

--

Jake and Amy stroll into the precinct a little past 5:00, expecting to be the first two arrive as they have been for every heist since their engagement. So imagine their surprise when they enter the briefing room and find the entire squad waiting in their usual seats.

"Oh good, Jakey, you're here!" Charles exclaims.

"Yeah dudes, we've been waiting forever," Rosa adds.

"Peralta, Santiago, how nice of you to join us," says Holt from the front of the room. He raises an eyebrow. "I was beginning to worry you were too fowl to participate this year."

"Don't you mean chicken?" Jake asks pointedly.

"Chickens are classified as a type of fowl, therefore fowl is also an appropriate term," Holt replies. "Now please, sit down so I can go over the rules of this year's heist."

"Oh Commish," says Jake dramatically. "How cute of you to think you alone get to explain the heist when, in fact, it is I who will be doing the explaining."

"Not so fast, boys," Amy pipes up, waddling over to the podium. "If anyone is going to go over the rules, it's gonna be me." She turns and faces the rest of the squad, who are all rather nonplussed by the current debate. "This year it is up to each contestant to decide whether they choose to work with another detective. Like before, you all have until midnight--"

"To find the object of destiny and keep it--" starts Jake.

"Hey!" Amy exclaims, swatting Jake in the chest.

"In your possession," Holt finishes.

"HEY!" Jake and Amy shout.

"Oh my god, all of you can shut it," says Gina, rolling her eyes as she stands up from her seat in the front row. "Everyone has to try and snag Holt's terrible bowler hat--" She holds up the red hat in question. "-- which will be on the creepy-ass witch in the middle of the precinct. I’m gonna go put it on the witch rn. Who wants to come with me?"

"How'd you get my hat?" Holt asks, his voice laced with confusion.

"You should know by now I have my ways," Gina replies with an air of mystery. "Now, to the bullpen!"

Jake and Amy exchange annoyed glances before following the rest of the squad into the bullpen. A piercing cackle rings out as all the detectives gather around Gina, who was standing beside the very same witch Amy had used to win the 2015 Heist. Everyone shutters.

“God, that thing still gives me the heebie jeebies,” Jake mutters.

“Good,” Amy whispers back at him, her tone menacing. Ugh. Jake forgot how mean Heist Amy can get. He doesn’t know whether to be hurt or turned on.

“Alright losers,” announces Gina. She’s holding the hat above the witches matted hair. “The bowler hat is going into position in 3...2...1!”

Everyone carefully retreats back to their respective desks; Holt has commandeered his old office from their Captain, who’s more than happy to do whatever it takes to get into the Commissioner's good graces, while Amy’s decided to work in the briefing room for the day. Jake switches his gaze back and forth from every member of the squad, not trusting anyone. He’s almost to his desk when he sees a quick flicker of movement by the briefing room door.

Amy’s clutching the doorknob, her face contorted in pain as her other hand clutches her swollen stomach.

“Amy!”

All eyes are now on Jake as he races over to wear Amy’s standing, still in obvious pain.

“Ames, what’s wrong?” he asks, immediately rubbing large circles on her back.

“A contraction, I think,” she gasps. Jake feels the blood drain from his face. He freaking knew something would happen today.

“Someone get a chair!” Jake yells. It’s not even ten seconds before Charles is scooting his chair right in front of Amy, who sinks into it as she continues to work through the contraction. “Ames, we need to go to the hospital. You are not having this baby at the precinct, it is absolutely filthy.”

“It’s probably nothing,” Amy murmurs as her breathing starts to even out. “False labor is pretty comm--”

“WHERE IS THE BOWLER HAT?”

Holt’s voice booms throughout the precinct. Everyone turns to see the witch, now minus one bowler hat.

“What the damn hell?!” A million thoughts race through Jake’s head. Who managed to grab the hat so quickly? They’d only been distracted for maybe 20 seconds. How could anyone have possibly known Amy was going to go into labor at that exact moment?

Unless...but...she wouldn’t.

Or would she?!

Jake slowly turned back around to see Amy smirking back at him, all evidence of pain wiped from her face.

“What’s up, Jake?”

Okay, now he doesn’t know whether to be mad or turned on. His wife is an evil genius.

“Amy Santiago-Peralta, you shady lady…”

“What?” she asks innocently. “I couldn’t have done anything. I’ve been sitting here the whole time.”

“She’s working with Rosa!” gasps Terry. “Terry saw her pause just before Amy had her ‘contraction’ and now she’s gone.”

Jake shakes his head as he turns back to Amy, who merely shrugs in response to this accusation.

“How could you use our future child to help you win the heist? Do you have no shame?! I am shook Amy, absolutely shook.”

His voice is filled with a mix of frustration and pure awe. Amy merely stands up and kisses Jake’s cheek.

"All's fair in love and Heists, babe. Besides, you should've known. I didn't use the signal."

She gives him a wink as she shuffles back into the briefing room. Jake merely shakes his head.

“Oh it is on.”

--

It takes 12 hours, 4 failed attempts, and 1 very large rat but eventually Jake and Charles are able to get the bowler hat back in their possession. It is now safely hidden in Charles’ desk, in one of Charles’ lunch boxes labeled “desk snails” (Jake doesn’t have the stomach to find out what desk snails actually are, but based on the smell wafting from the box they can’t be anything good). Now comes the hard part; protecting the hat without anyone knowing they have it.

Luckily, Charles is in the middle of a huge drug bust with Rosa. So it would make sense for him to be at his desk all day, right? Right. Jake himself is reading over some files for the robbery he’d been assigned the day before. It takes him a while to get into his groove, what with the heist and all, but after a while he gets lost in the puzzle, working and rearranging to try and solve the case.

“Earth to Jake.”

Jake jumps at the sudden noise. He looks up to see Rosa towering over him, her eyes filled with a mix of frustration and...worry?

“What’s up? Why aren’t you guarding the hat?” he asks smugly. Rosa slams her hands down on the table and leans over, her gaze even more menacing.

“Dude, you need to come with me,” she says. His voice is quiet, urgent. “Amy’s in labor. For realz.”

Jake can feel the same panic from before rise in his chest and for a second he thinks that maybe this is it?! But before he can get too excited he remembers what happened that morning and all the panic vanishes. He turns back to his file.

“Uh, nice try Diaz. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Rosa rolls her eyes before leaning in closer.

“Jake, I’m serious. Amy started having contractions this morning, around 9:00, but she told me not to tell you. She didn’t want to worry you. I think she wanted to see if she could beat you before she had to go to the hospital,” Rosa adds with a hint of frustration.  

A flutter of excitement fills his stomach. Is this for real? Is he gonna be a dad today?

“Why should I believe you?” he asks, still wary.

“Because,” Rosa huffs. “Your wife just about broke a desk when she grabbed it during a contraction. And because said contractions are getting closer together. I’ve been timing them. The last few have been six minutes apart. She needs to go to the hospital.”

Jake wants to believe her -- Christ, does he want to -- but he can’t quite let himself go there. What if he runs off to the briefing room only to be played again? What if Amy’s sitting back there totally fine and not in labor?

But what if she is?

“Oh, Amy also told me to tell you -- Don’t ask me why -- but she told me to tell you her butt itches.”

The code word. Holy shit. This is real.

AMY’S IN LABOR.

Jake jumps out of his chair.

“Why didn’t you lead with that?!” Jake practically yells. “Oh my god, Rosa...It’s baby time!”

“That’s what convinces you I’m telling the truth?” Rosa asks, amused. “Good god, you two are the weirdest couple.”

But Jake’s not listening anymore. He scrambles to find his keys before sprinting over to the briefing room, barely registering anything except for the fact that Amy is in labor and their baby is on its way and holy shit holy shit holy SHIT he’s gonna be a dad soon. Like, today.

Jake crashes into the briefing room to find Amy pacing up and down the walkway, her face contorted in a mix of panic and nerves as she clutches her lower back. She jumps at the noise.

“Rosa did you --” Relief washes over her when she realizes it’s Jake. “Oh thank god. I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. Hi.”

“Hi,” Jake sighs as he rushes to her. He plants a kiss on her temple. “If we’re being completely honest, I didn’t believe her until she said the code word. How are you?”

She gives him a nervous smile. “I mean, it hurts like hell. And I’m really scared because apparently it’s only gonna get worse. But I’m excited. And I’m glad you’re here.”

“I could’ve been here soon if you’d told me,” he chides her gently, although there’s not an ounce of menace in his voice.

“I know,” Amy says, a touch sheepish. “But I wanted to wi-- ah, fuck. Contraction.”

“Oh shit, okay. What do you want me to do?” Jake asks, feeling absolutely helpless as he watches Amy lean over the table and rest her elbows on the surface. Her belly hangs beneath her as she closes her eyes and the rest of her face twists with pain. She’s been doing this for hours and he wasn’t there, was just on the other side of the door when he should have been with her. That kills him just a little bit.

“My back,” she murmurs.

“Okay! I can do that.” Jake rushes to her and begins kneading her lower back, just like he’s been doing the past few weeks. It seems to go on forever, but slowly (way too slowly for either of their liking) but surely Amy’s breathing begins to even out as the contraction subsides.

“This has been happening all day?” Jake asks, feeling more and more guilty as the seconds pass. Amy nods, still keeping her head in her arms. “Jesus, Ames. I’m so sorry I haven’t been here. Screw the heist, I should’ve been in here with you -- Hell, we should’ve been on our way to the hospital already! Day one as a dad and I’m already fucking everything --”

“Hey,” Amy cuts him off, slowly standing so she’s facing him. “That was my choice. My stupid, stupid choice, but still. Please don’t blame yourself.”

Jake nods, but he can’t quite shake the feeling that he’s already a terrible father. Maybe he’s more like his dad than he thought.

“And don’t you dare go thinking you’re a bad father,” Amy adds, taking his hand into hers. She rests her forehead against his. “Because you’re not, you hear me?”

Of course she could read his freaking mind.

“I hear you,” he replies, squeezing her hand. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” says Amy. “And I really am sorry for going all girl-who-cried-labor on you. Not cool.”

Jake lets out a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. It was a brilliant prank.”

“It kinda was, wasn’t it?”

They laugh, and the two of them stand there for a second, wrapped up in each other. Their breathing falls in sync as they take in everything that’s happened and everything that’s going to happen in the next few hours. They’re going to be parents today. There baby is going to be here so freaking soon. And even though minutes ago he was on the brink of totally, completely freaking out, in Amy’s arms all of that melts away. Here everything is stable. It’s easy, safe. It’s comfort. It’s Jake and Amy.

Finally Jake pulls away, knowing full well another contraction could come at any minute and they really should get to the hospital. He grins as he takes her hand.

“You ready for this, Peralta?”

Amy smiles back at him.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Santiago.”

--

It’s Jake who suggests they lay a spare hoodie down on the passenger seat just in case. Amy tries to protest, says she’s not going to make a mess thank you very much, but Jake insists.

“Ames, wasn’t it you who said you’d kill anyone who got a drop of anything on your patrol car upholstery?”

“...Yes.”

“Ha HA! The jacket stays.”

He helps into the car, leaning the seat back for optimal comfort before sprinting to the driver’s side, jamming on his seatbelt and pulling out of the station.

Amy’s water breaks two minutes later and Jake has never felt more smug in his entire life.

However that smugness only lasts about two seconds because as soon as her water breaks its like a flip has switched. The contractions are ten times stronger now, the pain so intense, and all the control Amy’d shown earlier is completely gone. All Jake can do is hold her hand, let her squeeze the living daylights out of it, and drive. That’s his job. To drive her to the hospital and keep her and their baby safe. That’s all he can do.

The drive to the hospital is only twenty minutes. But when your wife is screaming at you to drive faster? Well it might as well be twenty years.

“Can you go any faster?” Amy groans through a contraction.

“Babe, I’m going as fast as I can,” Jake says, trying not to let the panic he’s feeling creep into his voice.

“You’re in a police car, aren’t you? Turn on the damn siren and DRIVE,” Amy yells through gritted teeth.

“Oh yeah!” Jake exclaims. He flicks the switch and slams his foot onto the accelerator. He tries to drive as quickly as he can without actually running over any of the costumed crazies out on the streets. How crazy is it that his kid is actually going to be born on Halloween? They’re gonna have the best birthday parties ever!

“Jake,” Amy says urgently, snapping him back to reality. “I need to push. Like, now.”

“WHAT?” yells Jake, looking over to see Amy screwing her face up in total agony. “Already?!”

“Yeah. I need you to pull over right now.”

Jake just shakes his head, not lifting his foot off the accelerator. “Nope, not happening. My job is to get you to the hospital. You keep that baby inside for just ten more minutes.”

“JAKE. Pull the fucking car over.”

“Ames, babe, just hold on, okay? We’re so close.”

Tears roll down Amy’s face as she screams at him.

“JACOB SANTIAGO PERALTA PULL THE FUCK OVER.”

“Amy Santiago Peralta I beg of you, PLEASE do not push until there is a medical professional present.”

This goes on for the rest of the drive. Amy keeps begging, pleading with Jake to let her push, telling him that if he love her AT ALL he’d let her push and have the baby now while Jake keeps driving, telling her he loves her so damn much which is why he will not let her have their baby in a dirty patrol car. Wave after wave of contraction rips through her, and there’s a second where Jake thinks he might just end up delivering his own baby and it’s the scariest, craziest car ride of his life but by some miracle they reach the hospital before the baby comes.

They’re whisked away to the delivery room, and fifteen minutes and four pushes later their daughter is here.

She’s tiny and purple and a bit slimy but she’s here.

Her tiny, angry cries fill the room as she’s placed in Amy’s arms. Amy’s eyes are wide, her mouth forming a perfect little ‘o’ as she holds their daughter -- their daughter -- for the first time. Jake can hear her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

It’s the most amazing, wonderful, incredible sight Jake’s ever laid eyes on.

“Hi baby girl,” Amy whispers, running a finger over the baby’s cheek. “Thanks for coming out of me.” She plants a kiss on the baby’s forehead before looking up at Jake, tears glistening in her eyes. “She’s so perfect.”

“Yeah she is,” he says, his voice saturated with awe. “Just like her mama.” Jake kisses the top of Amy’s head as he looks down at their baby in her arms, her cries now reduced to the sweetest little snuffles.

“Hi there, little one. I’m your dad.”

Amy grins down at the baby. “And he’s gonna be the best daddy ever, you know that?”

Jake tentatively reaches out and places a hand on the baby’s tiny chest, feeling the warmth radiating off her tiny body even through the blanket she’s wrapped in. Suddenly he feels her little hand grasp his index finger, her fingers curling around his with impressive strength.

A current runs through his body, and along with it comes a love so strong, so pure. It’s in that moment that he knows he’ll never be able to stop loving her. And he doesn’t want to. She’s the absolute best thing in the entire world.

“You wanna hold her?” Amy asks quietly, smiling as tears continue to run down her cheeks. Jake can’t speak, merely nodding as they rearrange so that the baby is now in his arms. She never lets go of his finger.

“Oh...”

He sinks down onto the bed and feels Amy rest her head on his shoulder, her hand now resting on the baby’s chest just next to Jake’s. He wants to stay here forever, with his daughter’s perfect grip literally wrapped around his finger and the love of his life wrapped in his embrace. It’s better than winning any heist, better than arresting all of the bad guys in New York City. It’s heaven.

“What’s your name, little one?” he asks after a moment. He and Amy had narrowed it down to two, but hadn’t quite decided. It’s quiet for a second, then…

“Zoey,” Amy whispers. “I think it’s Zoey.”

Jake grins.

“Zoey she is.”

--

Amy and Jake are curled up in Amy's recovery room bed with Zoey asleep in Amy's arms when there’s a tentative knock on the door.

Jake startles out of his current trance. It’s the weirdest feeling, the mix of nerves and excitement that comes over him. Zoey’s first visitors.

Jake steals one final glance at Amy, who is looking back at him with an honest-to-god sparkle in her eye. He smiles back at her before turning his attention back to the baby.

“You ready for your first visitors, Zo-zo?” he asks, adjusting Zoey’s hat.

“You betcha, Daddy,” says Amy, speaking for Zoey.  Jake chuckles as he looks back at the door, relishing the way his heart leaps at his newest title.

Here goes nothing.

“Come in.”

The door cracks open, revealing Terry’s excited smile.

“Up for some visitors?”

Amy just nods as Jake grins back, waving them in.

“Yeah, of course.”

The crack in the door widens as one by one the rest of the squad enters their hospital room. Terry comes in first, then Charles -- who’s so excited Jake’s not entirely sure he’ll make it through the visit without passing out -- followed by Gina, Rosa, and, finally, Captain Holt. In his arms is a gift bag, but Jake can hardly focus on it now because his heart is fit to burst.

It’s fitting really, that their adoptive family be the first to meet their daughter.

It’s Gina who reaches the bed first, pausing before she (or Charles) gets too close for Amy’s comfort.

“Everyone,” Jake announces in a hushed sort of reverence. “Meet Zoey Camila Peralta. She’s 6 pounds, 7 ounces, and 20 inches of pure awesome.”

“Oh Amy, she’s gorgeous,” Terry says, wiping his cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “I’m sorry, I just still can’t believe my work babies had a baby.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cute. Second only to Iggy, duh,” adds Gina, with a rare unsarcastic smile. She squeezes Amy’s leg. “You did good, kid.”

“Thanks, guys,” says Amy quietly, smiling up at both of them with unshed tears in her eyes.

“So…” Jake looks to Amy, who nods, before continuing, “Who wants to hold her first?”

“I think we can all agree we should let Charles have a turn before he collapses,” says Terry.

“Yes, I think that would be wise,” adds Holt, eyeing Charles with concern.  Charles, who has been surprisingly quiet up until this point perks up at his name.

“C-c-can I?” he asks, his eyes wide.

Jake grins back. “Of course, buddy. Come say hi to your new favorite niece.”

At the word ‘niece’ Charles snaps out of his trance.  He reaches out, and Amy carefully places Zoey into Charles’ arms. That’s when the water works start.

“She’s perfect, just...perfect,” Charles sobs. “America’s dream baby.”

Once Charles empties his tear ducts the rest of the squad takes turns holding Zoey, every one of them fawning over her in their own ways. Rosa helps Zoey give her first fist bump, Gina promises to always be there when she wants to go “real person” shopping, and Terry tells her about her cousins and all the things they can do together.

“But now I think it’s Uncle Holt’s turn, yes it is,” Terry coos into Zoey’s ear.

“Oh...yes. I suppose I would like to hold the infant,” says Holt, shuffling over to Terry’s side. Jake slides his hand into Amy’s, not quite able to take his eyes off the Captain as he holds their daughter in his arms. A soft smile spreads across Holt’s face.

“She is quite beautiful.”

Jake’s throat suddenly feels too tight, his eyes burning in the back of his head.

“Thank you, sir.” Jake can feel Amy squeezing his hand almost as hard as she did just a few hours ago.

No one speaks for a moment, everyone too caught up in the fact that Holt hasn’t stopped smiling for the past few minutes.

“So…” Jake starts after a beat, “Who ended up winning the Heist?”

Of course it’s Holt who speaks up.

“Gina, can you please bring Jake and Amy the gift bag I placed on the visitor’s loveseat?”

“Could have just called it a couch,” Jake interjects, but Holt ignores him.

Gina brings the bag over to the bed and places it next to Amy, giving her a subtle wink before retreating back to her perch next to Rosa.

Amy gives Holt a curious glance as she reaches inside the bag. She pushes the wrapping around only to find...

“The bowler hat?”

Another grin flashes across Holt’s face.

“I think we have to award it to the newest member of the squad.”

Jake feels tears finally spill over. He hears Amy gasp beside him.

“Sir…”

“You really mean it?”

Holt nods, arching an eyebrow.

“Of course I mean it. Your daughter truly is an amazing human/genius.”

And as Holt bounces Zoey as he carries her over and places her back into Amy’s arms, Jake can’t help but feel completely, totally, blissfully happy. He has his family, his wife, and his own freaking daughter.

He’ll never get over that.

It’s all he could ever need.

Amy leans her head on his shoulder, once again bringing him back down to reality.

“He totally loves her,” she whispers up at him, completely in awe. Jake grins back at her before returning his gaze to his daughter.

“What’s not to love?”

#HERE IT IS #let me know if you like it!!! #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #jake x amy #jake peralta #amy santiago

[thepilotanon]

springbeauty xii

{masterlist}

We’re almost done!! I’m so excited for you guys to read and let me know what you think c: This fic has been very fun to write, but we’re not finished yet. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Enjoy!

warning: none!

If one has ever ran full force into a brick wall, completely unintentional, that would be the exact definition of what it was like being tackled by Clyde Logan. As much as the honorably-discharged man was tall and intimidating by looks, he was also fairly soft to the touch. Over his firm abs was that littlest hint of plush from his love of bacon and beer; his only hand, rough from mechanical work and being a handyman, still maintained softness whenever he brushed his knuckles against other skin or carefully pinched in a tease. His hair also soft as his honey-brown eye staring adoringly, as if in a trance, there was plenty of softness that Clyde had that many did not see on the surface...

Even so, being tackled into a rather crushing hug, it still felt like hitting a brick wall and easily knocked the breath out of her lungs. She was just thankful she stood up from the bench in time before he could completely wreck it.

His right hand clinging desperately to her damp back as his robotic prosthetic tangled in her wet hair, Belle nearly lost her balance before having her face shoved into his hard chest. With him being so tall, she was forced to get on her toes in order to breathe and register that it was really her boyfriend holding her so tightly in the rain, under the protection of branches and leaves as an natural umbrella.

Raining with distant thunder.

“Clyde!” Belle gasped as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp, only for him to hold her tighter. “Wh-what are you doing out here? It’s a storm out and you’re all soaked! How did you even -?”

“M’sorry. M’so, so sorry, baby, please, please…” Clyde voice was raw and choked up, making Belle freeze in her attempt to escape his hug when she finally felt his shake against her. “Please forgive me, Belle. Please, please, Belle, I’m so sorry, I didn’t wanna yell at ya like that. I never wanna yell at ya! Please, don’t leave me.”

“Clyde? Honey, please calm down,” Belle tried to calm him, her hands sliding up his back and into his dark hair as he let out another rattling sob as he buries his face into her neck. She could feel his hot tears against her skin, urging her to massage the back of his neck and accept his weight leaning more on her as he cried. “Oh, honey…” Belle cooed sadly, urging him closer.

“I thought ya left me. I was scared. I was scared ya got hurt ‘n I wasn’t there to help ya. M’sorry,” Clyde babbled through his thick tears, nearly melting at feeling her familiar hands tangle into his hair. “Please, please, please forgive me, Belle. I never wanna hurt ya!”

Feeling her heart breaking and her own eyes growing tears, the woman hugged him back just as tightly. “I already forgive you, Clyde. You know that. I’ll always forgive you, my sweet man,” she told him outloud, swallowing the lump in her throat when she felt his hot breath let out a desperate exhale. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back quick enough, sweetie. I was so lost in thought and ended up here, then it started to rain…”

Sniffing, Belle snuggled her face into his hot neck and shut her eyes tight. “I forgot my fucking damn phone, and I left you all alone when it was starting to rain - Oh God, I’m so sorry, Clyde! I didn’t want to leave you; I don’t ever want to leave you like that, I’m so sorry!”

Her little outburst of quiet tears made him drop to his knees, keeping her upright by holding her hips with both his real hand and his prosthetic before wrapping his arms around her. Clyde didn’t give a damn about getting mud on his knees, nor did he care of how pathetic he looked crying like a baby to her in the middle of the nature trail. His nose was runny and eyes puffy, Clyde cried into her stomach and kissed her clothed belly, her hips, jeans and anywhere he can reach as he desperately held onto her like a lifeline. Clyde was shaking with the distant thunder, but he didn’t want to let her go. His heart was hammering against his chest out of adrenaline, but so happy to be reunited with Belle. He was so overwhelmed with her smell mixed with the rain, feeling her in his hand and against his body once more just felt so perfect that he didn’t care that he was in the storm.

“Don’t say sorry for somethin’ ya didn’t do wrong, baby,” Clyde whimpered against her belly as her hands remained in his hair, now knotted in her fingers. He felt so complete, it ached. “Darlin’, please...I love ya so much. I’m sorry.”

“I love you, too,” Belle hiccuped, wiping a tear away with the sleeve of her sweater. “Clyde, we need to go home, okay? It’s storming outside, we need to go home and get your medication. H-how did you get out here? We need to go home, honey.”

It took a while before Jimmy had to come and follow his brother’s footsteps to find his younger sibling clinging to Belle, his jeans all dirty and refusing to let her go, yet the older Logan brother didn’t seem bothered. However, Jimmy had to push Clyde to start walking back to the truck as soon as they could start to feel the thunder under their feet and the crying man jumped. It was hard to get him moving right away, yet Jimmy managed to force his brother to lift Belle and carry her (all while the woman tearfully apologized to Jimmy), but it worked out when Clyde yanked Belle into his lap in the passenger seat, snuggling his cheek against her, like a little child with his beloved teddy bear.

Before Belle could even say anything, Jimmy waved it off with a dorky grin. “Please, I’ll get you two back in one piece. Lil shit ain’t gonna let ya go, and I ain’t gonna make him. Jus’ glad to see yer alright, Belle.”

The ride home was quiet and easy, now that Clyde had his arms wrapped around his woman’s body, his face buried into her wet sweater and inhaling her flowery scent until Jimmy, jokingly, poked him out of his daze to let him know that they were home.

“Medication,” was the first thing Belle whispered to him when they finally got into the double-wide trailer and closed the door.

His eyes still sore from crying to much, he could only nod before Belle brought him to the bathroom and got him to sit on the toilet. Clyde allowed Belle to unwrap the borrowed sweatshirt from his prosthetic and unbuckling it before digging into the mirror cabinet above the sink. He wasn’t allowing Belle to stray far from him, his only hand gripping the edge of her top before she returned with his prescribed pill. He took it with water from the faucet before seeing her move the shower curtain aside to start the shower head on the other side of him, making Clyde reach with his arms to wrap around her wet clothed body.

Feeling his face hide itself into her sweater, Belle fell back to her feet and carefully brushed his dripping hair with her fingers. “It’s okay, Clyde. Just want to get you out of these wet clothes, before you get sick.”

His big eyes looked up to her, still red from their shared cries as he pouted to her. She let out a tired chuckle and continued to comb his hair while the water warmed up. “I promise I won’t leave you this time, handsome.” Belle pressed a gentle kiss to his head in promise.

“Stay with me, Darlin’?” he mumbled, his fingers shyly slipping under the hem of the sweater, rising the wet fabric a bit off her hip. She didn’t need to be asked twice when he exhaled tiredly and rest his cheek against her once more.

His face resting on her bare shoulder, Clyde stared into nothing as the warm water pelted against both his and Belle’s naked body. Feeling the warmth of her skin against his made his medication seep better through his body; the ease of the storm becoming nothing more than a boring song, his breathing nice and easy while he paid more attention to her heartbeat against his ear. Eventually, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Belle, the caul -”

Her thumb pressed against his lips to silence him, and he opened his eyes with furrowed brows. Turning her cheek to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, Belle spoke softly to his skin. “Shhh, don’t.”

“But…”

“You don’t need to tell me, Clyde,” she whispered, fingers twirling around his dark hair and he sighed at the gesture. “Whatever I was trying to pry out of you, please don’t indulge me with answers you’re not ready to tell me. I said I forgave you, sweetheart, don’t worry about it right now.”

Shifting his head to look at her gentle face, Clyde felt his chest warm up when she gave him a small smile. Lifting himself up a bit, his hand coming to hold himself properly on the rim of the tub, Clyde found Belle’s lips with his own and pressed numerous firm, loving kisses to her. His stump arm coming to wrap around her lower back as she leaned off the curve to return the affectionate kisses, her hands clasped behind his thick neck. Soon enough, Clyde could feel her smile in the kiss and the light giggles escaping her, which he returned the smile with his own toothy grin. Moving his kisses to trail from her lips to her cheek and neck before resting against her once more.

“I love you, Darlin’,” he breathed out, feeling it coming so easily after calming down from his nightmare.

After warming up and getting dressed in comfortable clothes, Belle carefully pushed Clyde into bed and under the covers. Willingly rolling himself to his side as soon as Belle got into her side, his right hand reaching for her as routine. Belle was quick to snuggle herself to his chest and throw her left leg over his hip, allowing his only hand to cradle the back of her thigh in his daze before letting the medication lull him to a dreamless sleep. Feeling her hands carefully rub up and down his chest, over his heart and shoulders, making him sigh and look down to her with a sleepy, loving stare. His thumb brushing the soft skin of her leg, Clyde curled himself a bit in order to touch her hair and head with his face, peppering kisses along her forehead and nuzzling into her hair.

Her soft hands coming to gently hold the sides of his neck, Belle pulled back far enough to meet his eyes. “How are you feeling, baby?” she asked him softly. Seeing him nod a little, she smiled at him and lightly scratch his scruff with her fingertips. “Clyde, sweetie, please don’t go out during a storm like that ever again, okay? I know it was my fault, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“It only hurt when I couldn’t be with ya, angel. I was scared ya left me for good…”

“No, no,” Belle cooed softly, pulling his face down to press light smooches across his cheeks, whispering against his skin. “You know I would never, ever do such a thing to you, Clyde. You know that I love you too much to do something so terrible like that.”

“I know, doll,” Clyde agreed. “Jus’...still scares me of how, maybe, ya won’t come back from an argument we might have. Bad nightmare.”

“A nightmare that won’t come true, because you know we’re better than that,” she countered confidently, brushing her nose against his before cuddling her face into his neck. Her warm breath made him shiver with ease, making his eyes flutter. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. No cauliflower between us, no arguing about it. Nothing about anything right now, Clyde.”

“Then, what?” Clyde asked.

“Hold me close, like you always do,” Belle said against him, her leg drawing closer to have him as close as possible to her body and feeling his warmth. “And always remember that I love you so, so much.”

Releasing a sigh, Clyde draped his large arm over her and held her close. His head hitting the pillow, Clyde fell asleep by following her instructions with one more kiss to her head.

Being careful not to slip on the mud, Clyde kept his chin tilted down as he scanned the thick brushes around the woodsy floor. With his coat on, he didn’t seem to mind the chilly breeze passing by or the sounds of critters this early in the morning. Normally Clyde was very much against being up so early in mornings, often burying himself under blankets and pillows and cuddling himself against Belle’s warm body - more so trying to trap her in bed to avoid going to work without him, pulling the puppy eyes, and everything. This morning should have been no different, yet Clyde woke up by himself with a mission.

Giving Belle’s still slumbering face a gentle kiss to her cheek, whispering his promise that he will come back shortly, Clyde threw on his jeans and coat before going off into the woods in his backyard.

A major part of him felt at peace in the moment, the fresh air cleaning his lungs from his stress and the early morning light warmed his cheeks and hair from the side. All while keeping his eyes on the ground, the tall man found exactly what he was looking for, taking a deep breath as the sky changed to the brilliant colors of pinks and oranges.

Finishing his project on the kitchen table, Clyde checked the oven to see breakfast keeping warm before going down the hallway towards the bedroom. Belle was still sleeping soundly by the time Clyde slipped back onto the mattress and pressing his face between her shoulder blades, using his only hand to tug the shirt she was sleeping in up to kiss her spine to rouse her gently as possible. Feeling her shift from his gentle actions, Belle stretched her legs before rolling over to shove her hand against his face to stop him, making Clyde huff a quiet laugh and kiss her fingers. Seeing her opening her eyes, Clyde tilt his head to angle her way as she woke up more.

“Good morning,” Belle slurred in confusion. “You’re up so early…”

“Mornin’,” Clyde nodded, bending down to kiss her head and cuddle her. “Couldn’t sleep, so I made breakfast,” he explained as she circled her arms around his neck to hold him down. He willingly leaned his upper body against her, pressing his mouth to her cheek and jaw as she nuzzled her face tiredly into his shoulder. “Can ya get up ‘n eat with me, Darlin’? We will come back to bed, I promise. I ain’t a sudden mornin’ man just yet.”

“Mmhmm.” When she made no move to get up, Clyde lifted himself from the bed with Belle hanging from him with a cheeky snicker as he pulled her into an embrace. Belle turned her cheek to press a soft greeting kiss to the corner of his lips, making him smile. “You smell like pine and rainwater.”

“I was outside a bit, watchin’ the sun rise ‘n walkin’,” Clyde said as Belle hugged him while standing up on her own. “Although, it ain’t as mesmerizing without some pretty lady to share it with. I think I take some cuddlin’ and sleepin’ in a lot better, if ya ask me.”

“It’s even better with a big bear to snuggle with and keep warm.”

A couple days had passed from their moment in the rain, and both Clyde and Belle had shut themselves inside the trailer and keeping close throughout the remainder of the storms and icky weather. The rain finally ceased late last night, and Clyde slept soundly with the lack of thunder, thankfully. Jimmy had contacted everyone to let them know that everything was fine, and told the couple to take the rest of the week off from the bar and flower shop to “discuss” their argument and reconcile like adults with time and patience.

And, by discuss, they have only cuddled and watched movies in the comfort of their bed and talked about meaningless, silly things.

Jumping on some baggy sweatpants, Belle forced herself to wake up better all while Clyde waited patiently and took her hand in his only one to guide her out of the bedroom. Bringing her out to the kitchenette and table, Clyde smiled at Belle’s sleepy grin as she inhaled the heavenly smell of cinnamon rolls coming from the small oven, her eyes still closed and using him as a guide.

“Cinnamon rolls,” she sighed with a snuggle to his strong arm. “You actually made cinnamon rolls, all by yourself, handsome?”

“Well, they’re from the tin thing with that funny lookin’ puppet, so I didn’t actually make ‘em,” Clyde drawled when she huffed a laugh against his sleeve. “Followed the directions, though, so they should taste alright. Jus’ didn’t want it too hot with the stove on for bacon…”

“That’s okay,” Belle hummed soothingly, her eyes opening as she finally looked up. “I’m sure everything will taste perfect when…”

Belle slowed to silence as her eyes landed on the project on the little table, now completely awake.

The makeshift vase from one of Clyde’s tall drinking glasses were wrapped with a red ribbon he found from the Christmas decoration box. The thin, lavender colored petals decorated the top, contrasting with the red ribbon and wood of the table; all scattered on top with its small leaves, the bouquet filled out together almost similar to ones in a fancy store or magazine. Belle stared at it for a long moment before looking up to Clyde’s small smile with a curious gaze. She didn’t say anything at first, yet allowed Clyde to squeeze her hand a bit and bring her closer to the table with the flowers.

“Clyde?” Belle spoke with a soft voice.

“Fairy spuds, also known as springbeauty flowers,” Clyde started to speak carefully. “Plant roots are edible and some folks cook ‘em like potatoes, and come in colors of white, purples, pinks and yellows. Not many people really care for ‘em, ‘cause they’re so tiny.

“But they’re special to me, ‘cause they were the flowers I found in the middle of the frickin’ dark during my first date with this beautiful lady named Rosabelle,” Clyde continued softly, rubbing his thumb over her soft knuckles. “They were in some bushes during our walk, ‘n I jus’ excused myself to go grab them...didn’t even think for some allergy or nothin’ makin’ my socks itch.”

Belle laughed at his humor and he grinned as she covered her mouth with her other hand. “I kept tryin’ to find the meaning of springbeauties in all the books and online, ‘cause these lil things gotta mean something,” he continued. “It took a long time to find what they symbolize, but I found it.”

“What did you find out?” Belle asked him in a soft voice, looking to him as he stared at her with his honey colored eyes.

“They mean that ‘Clyde Logan is deeply in love with this Rosabelle lady more than he can ever put into words, and can’t see himself being with anyone else or give his heart to’,” he told her seriously, making her blink in surprise as he turned to face her, holding her hand to his chest. Placing her hand over his heart, Clyde pressed his palm on top of hers. “For a long time, I always thought I was gonna be alone forever, ‘til ya walked into my life from sellin’ Mellie that car. Ya made my heart do silly things and make me daydream ‘bout havin’ a future with ya after our first date.

“That night, when I got those springbeauties for ya, ‘n ya made that very beautiful smile at me and took my hand like ya did,” Clyde huffed a laugh when he saw how watery Belle’s eyes were getting, “these became my favorite flowers. They made me change my mind in livin’ that lonely life when I gave them to you, and I knew I couldn’t lose ya, Darlin’.”

“Clyde,” Belle sniffed with a smile, and he reached up to wipe away a tear from her cheek.

“Of all my flaws and bein’ how I am, I have never felt lonely since havin’ ya in my life,” Clyde continued with a toothy grin. “If you’ll let me, I promise ya Belle, I’ll spend the rest of my life tryin’ to show you how much ya changed my life for the better and how I appreciate all you’ve done for me.

“I promise ya, Belle,” Clyde declared as her hand slid up his chest and hold his face as he gave her a love-driven expression to her happy tears, “I won’t let ya ever come back to a place where no one else will come home, because I promise I’ll come home to kiss ya and ask you ‘bout your day. I promise I’ll ask you about the plant ya brought home, because I wanna help ya make it grow again with all your love; I promise I’ll make ya laugh when you had a bad day with whatever it takes, even make my funny Kermit voice when yer hidin’ in a ball of blankets…

“I’ll promise I will make you feel loved, Belle, with all my heart,” Clyde told her. “With all my heart, I promise I’ll love you for the rest of my life, if you’ll allow me. You helped me realize I ain’t lonely. You helped me find my favorite flower and made me realize that love is a beautiful thing just by looking at you. Will you let me?”

Unable to use her voice, trying to keep her cries back as best as she could, Belle nodded through her tears as she reached up with her hand for him to hold her. Clyde obliged, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her into his embrace as she began giving him kisses and hugging him tightly as she cried. Burying his face into her shoulder, Clyde took a deep breath to hold back his own tears as he rocked her in his arms as she babbled her love for him over and over through her crying, making his heart skyrocket beautifully. Kissing her clothed shoulder a couple times before she took his face in her hands and kissed him so happily, whispering her joy and happiness into it as he finally felt a couple tears slip down his face.

He was keeping to his promise already, making her feel like she was home.

Fun fact: I only recently learned that you can boil/bake the roots and seeds of fairy spuds like potatoes, and I’m happy to know this now (although, I don’t think I’ll try it anytime soon).

taglist: @ayatimascd @oh-adam @formerly-anonhamster @deliriumdoll @a-whole-damn-sackler @bourbonboredom

Remember, if you would like to be tagged for future chapters, please don’t hesitate to message me! I’d be more than happy to add you. Thank you for reading and I hope to hear from you!

#pilotanonwrites #clyde logan x reader #oc/reader insert #reader insert #springbeautyclydefic

[joeybelle]

Oh, how the tables have turned -- Part 3

Clyde Logan x Reader

Inspired by @clyde-prompts: “Some guys are rude and use ableist slurs against Clyde. The reader is with them, and although she feels bad about what’s happening, is too scared to say anything in front of her “friends”. She comes back to the bar a couple nights later to try and show him she’s not a bad person. They get to know each other and fall in love”. Doesn’t fully follow the prompt

Warnings: Language, first person POV, driving under the influence cause I assume everyone does it in that movie, IDK what I’m doing.

Rating: Mature

Setting: Pre-Heist

Tags: @lonelyravenclaw​ @kyloren-supreme-ben​ @onmyknees4steve​ @elsablackswift​ @helloimindelaware​ @mwcritics

A.N: I’ve decided to slice this fic into 3000-ish words parts for people to be able to scroll past it without much annoyance. Pert 3 ended up being much longer than expected, so i had to cut it into two parts somewhere in the middle. It’s not perfect, but you’ll be getting both parts today. When I finish editing. Might take a while. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the story. Feel free to drop me a line anytime or just message me if you wanna squee about Clyde Logan in general.

Rejection is always a tough pill to swallow. It wasn’t the first I’d gotten rejected and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it still didn’t go down easily. I found myself moping at home the next few days, following what I’d gotten used to calling the ‘series of unfortunate events’ related to Clyde Logan. Not that I had that many alternatives anyway, being a friendless nobody in a small town, but this time it felt self-imposed.

In the meantime I cut the grass in my yard and discovered a few rose bushes that were beautiful, but mean to my hands, I watched how the living room ceiling started leaking one rainy afternoon, signalling a pretty serious hole in the roof, nearly broke my neck going into the basement because there was a missing step I hadn’t seen before; I opened the vodka bottle all by myself and realized that he had been right, drinking alone wasn’t fun at all, but I was doing it anyway to hide my shame; I ate ice cream and binged Netflix shows for the rest of the week.

But there’s a limit to how much time you can spend alone at home before starting to go insane. I reached mine the next weekend and for a moment I considered paying Mellie a visit, but then I remembered the whole Clyde ordeal and I decided against it. I was sure that he’d told her everything and I really didn’t feel like talking about it. It was bad enough that I was beating myself up over it, I didn’t need someone else to rub it in. So, since the Duck Tape was off-limits for obvious reasons, and I didn’t feel like exploring for another bar in the neighbourhood I was left with only one option: the country fair.

I used to really love country fairs and carnivals and all that when I was a teenager, but it was probably because I’d be with my friends and there would be booze and food and we’d just be stupid together. I wasn’t sure I’d find them as charming nowadays, but at least I’d be moping outside, in public, which was an improvement to being secluded in my own home, waiting for another rain to invade the living room through the ceiling. So I showered, dressed like a semi-decent swamp witch and went to the damn thing.

As expected, the country fair didn’t impress me at all but it was a way to kill a few hours while feeling like less of a hermit than usual. I ate something, tested some insanely sweet drinks, and stuffed my face with enough ice cream to endanger my health, so in the end I found myself sitting on a bench, dangerously close to a food coma, with nothing better to do than to watch the crowd. Other people seemed to have way more fun than me. There were couples holding hands, parents with their kids, teenagers in groups visiting attractions and Clyde Logan with a blonde kid attached to his arm. Wait, what?

I have to say, this was the last place I had expected to see Clyde Logan. In my head, country fairs didn’t really fit his style (because I had spoken to him twice and I knew all there was to know about the man, obviously), and I assumed he’d be too busy with the bar to come to one anyway. I remembered that it was pretty early and the bar probably wasn’t open yet, but his presence in my field of vision was still unexpected.

I sighed dramatically and leaned back, arms crossed over my chest. Speak about bad luck, I thought. I came here to avoid him and here he was, swinging a blonde kid on his very toned arm. Actually, I didn’t mind the view. He was distracted by the kid and far enough not to notice my staring, so I indulged in it for a moment. There’s no harm in looking, right? Especially when he was wearing a dark, short-sleeved shirt that seemed at least a size too small, the buttons threatening to give in anytime he flexed his muscles while lifting the little girl in the air. His niece? Maybe. She seemed vaguely familiar, so I assumed she had been part of the onslaught of school kids that were sent to visit the college I worked at. Or maybe she was his kid. I had no way of knowing for sure.

Whatever the case, he looked really good doing it. He was smiling for a change. An open and honest smile lit up his usually somber face, and I just couldn’t look away. I caught myself wishing he would smile at me like that, but then I realized that we were practically strangers and I hadn’t made the best impression the first time we met. And since he clearly rejected me, I had to get over this crush ASAP if I wanted to live peacefully in this town.

The little girl let go of his arm and ran back to a couple that, after a bit of squinting, I recognized to be Jimmy Logan and his sister Mellie. They both looked different—after all it had been more than a decade since I’d last seen them—but not so much that I didn’t recognize them. Jimmy lifted the girl in the air and kissed her, then put her down and looked straight at me with a shit eating grin on his face. The feeling was similar to being punched in the gut. I remembered that in another life I’d dreamed of Jimmy Logan looking at me with a smile, but right now the only thing I felt was panic, so I decided to get the hell out of there before Mellie noticed me and I’d have to be part of a very awkward conversation.

But luck definitely wasn’t on my side today, because the little girl started running towards me yelling ‘Miss’ at the top of her lungs. Oh, now I recognized her: she was the pageant girl. Really smart kid, very bubbly and friendly, talked my ear off during the college tour. Her favourite subject was, of course, pageants.

“Hi!” I said, when she stopped in front of me, grinning from ear to ear. “You must be… uhhh… uhhhh.” Crap. I had been calling her pageant girl in my head for so long that I’d forgotten her name.

“Sadie!” she helpfully reminded me.

“Sadie, right. How are you today?”

“Good. Daddy brought me to the fair to see the auctioneers. And later uncle Clyde will win me a unicorn.” I did my best not to steal a glance at Clyde at the mention of his name, not wanting to invite any more attention towards me. Hopefully I’d be able to get out of here before the adults ganged up on me.

“Awesome!” I said, panic clearly noticeable in my voice, because Jimmy Logan was rapidly approaching (despite his visible limp) with Mellie following closely. “It was nice seeing you today, Sadie, but I have to go now. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for your unicorn.”

“Aw, leaving already?” She looked genuinely sad and I felt bad for her, but I felt even worse for myself, so I had to go.

“Yeah, leaving already? Without even saying hello?” Jimmy caught up to us before I was able to disappear, so I put on my most believable fake smile and hoped for the best. “Come on, don’t be a stranger, Baby,” he said, pulling me into a hug.

“Well, I kinda thought I was,” I mumbled, but returned the hug. He seemed like a nice person, plus I’d held him on a pedestal for so many years that I could indulge in a hug.

“Daddy, why are you calling her baby?” Sadie aske, giggling.

“Cause that’s her nickname,” he said, ruffling her hair. He explained to her that I’d been called baby ever since I was little, but she had to be polite and call me by my real name. The kid giggled again and I mouthed ‘I hate it’ which made her laugh harder, before turning to face her dad once again.

“I am surprised you know that. I lived under the impression that you had no idea who I was,” I said, going to hug his sister. “Hi Mellie, long time no see.” In hindsight, I should have kept my mouth shut and pretended we were at least acquaintances. And although I knew it could be interpreted that way, I wasn’t bitter that he never acknowledged me in my teens—after all, it was just puppy love and it had been a decade since then—but I was curious what had prompted this sudden display of familiarity. If anything, I would have expected Mellie to come alone to say hi.

“Hiya, sweetheart. It’s good to have you back.” She warmly returned my hug.

“What do you mean I had no idea who you were? You’ve been coming to my games since you were twelve and cheered louder than the whole cheerleading squad.” That was true. “How could I not know my biggest fan?”

“So you what, ignored me on purpose?” I said, arching an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he said and laughed. His laugh was still the same as I remembered, loud and contagious. “But my brother here had the biggest crush on you and I just didn’t wanna make him more jealous.” Well, this was unexpected.

Clyde had conveniently stayed out of my line of sight, keeping his distance, but now I turned to look at him. Never in my life had I seen anyone blush so furiously in a matter of seconds, his whole face even his ears becoming a deep shade of red. He was glaring at Jimmy who seemed really unfazed by it.

“Is that so?” I pressed, feigning innocence, but deep inside me there was a little devil laughing maniacally. I mean, I was aware that it wasn’t very nice of me, but I was feeling a tiny bit of petty satisfaction knowing that I wasn’t the only one embarassed by the whole situation. Misery loves company.

“Yeah, he only ever came to my games to see you cheer,” Jimmy said, same shit eating grin plastered on his face, seeming completely oblivious to his brother’s discomfort.

I smiled back but wonder what Jimmy’s motive was. Talking to me out of the blue, after never acknowledging me before, snitching on his brother in a matter of seconds. I knew he was insanely loyal to his family, so why sell him now?

On the whole, the situation was beyond comical. Jimmy was grinning, Clyde seemed set on killing him with a glare, Sadie attached to his arm again asking ‘Is that true, uncle Clyde’ over and over again until he finally mumbled something that sounded like ‘It was a long time ago’. He looked at me like a deer (or a moose) caught in the headlights and I could feel my own cheeks burning. I was in hell.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?” I asked Mellie, who stood next to me, arms crossed and an amused smile playing on her face.

“‘Cause he’s a bit of a coward and you were infatuated with my other brother,” she kindly explained.

“Right.” Made sense. I still felt like something that I should have known about back then— who knows, I might have liked him back—or you know, forever hold your silence type of thing. But knowing this now explained a lot of things.

Now that the petty satisfaction that I had felt for embarrassing him had died down a little bit, I understood why Clyde rejected me and didn’t seem to react to my flirting. If someone I had been crushing on in my teens showed up on day, insulted me or trampled on my insecurities then tried flirting with me I would have been much less gracious in rejecting them than Clyde had been. Yes, it had been more than a decade since highschool, and I was pretty sure his crush on me was dead and buried (like the one I used to have on Jimmy), but it was something that could potentially still hurt after years. So once again I was flooded by guilt.

“Well, it was… uhh… fun meeting you guys, but I have to head back now,” I said, getting ready to bail. Enough embarrassment for a day. Served me right for wanting to get out of the safety of my home. Never again.

“Come on, we’ve just met and you wanna leave already?” Mellie said with a disappointed look on her face.

“It’s not that, I just have some things to do at home,” I tried excusing myself. “Give me your phone number and we can hang out another time,” I said fishing my phone out of my pocket.

“The things will still be there tomorrow, but you’re never getting back today,” Jimmy said with a wink.

“Wow, who knew my brother was a philosopher,” Mellie arched an eyebrow at him. I laughed.

“Please, Miss,” Sadie latched onto my hand, pulling me towards the booths. “Daddy said I’ll get to be your guide today, show you around the fair. Pleaaase.” How could you say no to a kid? Big-eyed, freckled, and more full of life than I’d ever been.

I looked over to Clyde who had returned to a somewhat normal shade, although there was still some pink tinting his cheeks. He still seemed highly uncomfortable about this whole thing, his whole body looking tense. I tried imagining what he felt: a week ago he was living a (supposedly) peaceful life and then Baby was back in town and he’d been insulted, hit on and then embarrassed by his brother in front of his family. If I’d been in his place, I would have faked my death and left the country by now.

“I don’t think I should…” I said, hoping that at least one of the siblings would take the hint and leave it be.

“Nonsense!” Jimmy proclaimed, patting me on the shoulder and nudging me towards Sadie. “Come stay with us a while and I promise you’ll have plenty of time to do whatever you were planning on doing.”

“Are you willing to help out?”

“If that’s what it takes…”

I snorted. “Half an hour then I’m gone,” I said, following them towards the booths. I send Clyde an apologetic look, hopefully he wouldn’t be bothered too much by my presence for the next half an hour. He seemed to have regained his composure and was following us closely.

Sadie was still holding my hand as we were mingling into the crowd of people staring at the attractions. She diligently explained to me what everything was, like it was my first time going to a country fair. It was entertaining to watch. She was a really cute kid and honestly, after so many days of self-imposed isolation, it was nice to interact with people in my free time.

“So, how’s it like being back in your hometown again?” Mellie asked, once Sadie ran over to her dad.

“Nice, peaceful.” Or that’s how it should have been, if I’d been a little smarter. “But it’s gonna take a bit of getting used to. It’s definitely keeping me busy. My roof just started leaking, something I never thought I’d have to experience, but hooray for adult life,” I laughed.

“Did you get it fixed?” she asked, a little concerned.

“No, not yet. Called a couple of contractors, but they didn’t have any opening this month.” I sighed. “I don’t have that many contacts in the area, but I’ll keep looking and hope there won’t be rain anytime soon.”

“That sucks,” she said and turned to her brother. “Hey Jimmy,” she yelled, “do you know anyone who can fix a roof?”

“What happened to it?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, truthfully. “It’s just raining into my living room.”

“I can come take a look when I’m free. If it’s not something big I can fix it for you.” He offered.

“Thanks, but…” Was I stupid enough to refuse? Yes.

“You don’t trust my skills?”

“Oh, I do, but I don’t want you to waste your free time fixing my leaky roof.” It wasn’t just that. I generally preferred to work with people I didn’t know, who were paid to do a job and with who I could argue at the end if the job wasn’t done properly. With friends and family, you just accept what you get, smile and then pay someone else to fix it later. Plus, if they refused payment, you’d have to find a way to make it up to them which meant more complications. And in this particular case I knew I shouldn’t be spending more time with Clyde or his family if I wanted my unrequited crush to die anytime soon. But how do I tell Jimmy that, when he seemed so eager to help?

“It’s no problem. I’ll take a look and if it’s something I can’t do, I’ll put you in touch with some people. When are you free?”

“Not sure, my schedule isn’t fully decided yet.”

“Then give me a call and we’ll see what works for the both of us. Clyde gimme your phone.” That earned him a frown from his brother.

“Why? What happened to your phone?” he said on what I guessed was a rather disapproving tone, but handed him the phone nonetheless.

“It’s broken.”

“He forgot to pay for it,” Sadie explained with a giggle.

“I didn’t forget, I’m not paying it in sign of protests to the shitty plan they forced down my throat,” he muttered. “Anyway, what’s your number?”

He punched in the number and gave me a call. I typed the name Clyde but then changed my mind and saved it as ‘Logan Bros’. Clyde never really wanted my number, so it was just a way for me to get in touch with Jimmy if I needed help. I decided to never call it unless the roof caught fire and I was trapped underneath.

The phone went back to Clyde and I saw him fiddle with it a bit, probably saving the number. I wondered what he saved me as. Probably used my real name, since I’d never heard him call me Baby. Although for some strange reason, I wouldn’t have minded even if he did. No matter how much I hated the nickname, I was sure I’d very much enjoy it if he moaned it in my ear as he pulled me closer to his chest and… stop. Restrain yourself, woman.

Sadie kept her promise and was a very good guide, which meant I was now very well acquainted with everything at the country fair. Jimmy had bought us corn dogs and cheesy fries and donuts and refused to let me pay for anything, so I retaliated by buying everyone snow cones and funnel cake. By the time we reached the shooting galleries, I was so full I was ready to burst.

As Sadie was searching the booths for the toy she wanted I bought a bottle of water, hoping to wash away the nausea caused by all that deep fried food I had shoved down my throat earlier. Seeing that Clyde had fallen behind and we could finally be alone for a bit, I decided to go and talk to him.

“Sorry for crashing your family outing,” I said, standing besides him as we both watched Sadie’s quest to find the best toy. “It wasn’t my intention.”

“It’s alright” he said, briefly glancing at me. “I have to apologize for how my brother acted today. I guess he’s just excited that you’re back in town. He doesn’t have that many friends.”

I had to admit that Jimmy Logan being lonely and not surrounded by hordes of friends was something that I would have never imagined. But I could see it now, after all we were both in the same position: two formerly popular kids that had fallen from grace and were now regular nobodies. Most friendships we made in our teens weren’t the kind that lasted a lifetime.

“I’m actually really enjoying this,” I said, trying to open the water bottle and failing. My hands were still very greasy from all that deep fried food. “But don’t tell anyone or I have a feeling I might get friend-dopted by your family and you’ll never get rid of me,” I said with a wink, to which he smiled. An actual smile. Directed at me.

“Lemme help you with that,” he said, noticing my pathetic attempt at opening the bottle. He held it under his left arm, effortlessly unscrewing the cap.

“I’m completely useless” I mumbled retrieving the bottle, and he chuckled.

In the meantime Sadie seemed to have found what she was looking for and dragged both Clyde and me towards one of the booths. She showed him what he wanted and after paying he was given a shabby airgun. I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone look at a rifle with more contempt in their eyes. I was certain he was used to a different type of guns, especially since he had been in the military.

“Piece of crap,” he mumbled, to no one in particular, disgust clear in his voice.

“Welcome to the glamorous world of carnivals, Mr. Logan,” I laughed.

He shot me a dirty look and aimed. He missed the first two targets, but got the other three. It was still quite impressive, I was sure the only thing I’d be able to hit with any rifle would be my foot, especially since everyone knows the games are rigged and the guns aim screwed on purpose. He paid for another round and I kept my fingers crossed. Sadie had climbed onto her father’s shoulders and was cheering from above.

This time he got the first target with very little effort. And the second one. And the third. By the fourth I was probably as excited as Sadie, although a little less vocal. The fifth target came down just as effortlessly as the others and both Sadie and I cheered loudly. The vendor faked excitement and handed him the toy, making a bit of a spectacle to attract other customers. ‘Look everybody, you can win even with one arm!’ he bragged, and I hated him already, but Clyde didn’t even seem to notice.

“Which one do you want?” he asked Mellie, after giving Sadie her toy.

“One of those,” she said, pointing to a bunch of little plushies that could be hanged on the rearview mirror.

“Alright,” he said, and paid for another round. This time, it seemed like he didn’t even have to aim. He just pointed the rifle and the targets went down one after another, to the vendor’s increased irritation and to my delight.

Clyde gave the toy to his sister who thanked him with a kiss on the cheek, then turned to me. “Which one do you want?”

“Me?” I said, taken by surprise. “You want to get me one too?”

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#clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x oc #logan lucky #clyde logan fanfictio

[babybluebanshee]

Heavy Rains - Chapter 1 (TF2)

Being stranded at Teufort during a raging storm with a gaggle of homicidal mercenaries isn't Miss Pauling's idea of a relaxing vacation. The group tries to make the best of it, but when a mysterious illness starts making its way through the barracks, it's a race against time to find a cure before it's too late. And that's not even bringing the emotional baggage into things.

Rain was not a common occurrence in Teufort. The town got around fifteen inches of precipitation a year, and even then, most of the townsfolk blamed that on a witch’s curse.

Most of the time, it was bone-dry and hellishly hot, a barren wasteland only fit for a few determined souls and the likes of the Mann. Co mercenaries, men too tough and too damn insane to register things like heat stroke and dehydration.

So naturally, when the local radio weather station predicted bizarre torrential rains headed directly for the small New Mexico town, accompanied by thunder, lightning, and winds reaching at least sixty miles an hour, the townspeople blamed the witch and burned effigies in their front yards. The Mann Co. mercenaries were simply confused.

And although Miss Pauling counted herself among the confused, she had very little time to dwell on it. She was currently overseeing the shipment of various supplies to the men at the Teufort base, to tide them over until the storm had passed. She had put them to work loading the boxes off the truck, so they could sort them in the loading bay later. It was best to keep the nine men occupied during something like this. Each one was a volatile whack job in their own special way. Something about being stuck together in close quarters brought all that out in full, destructive force.

She didn’t need another incident like the one in Coldfront. It’d taken three days to clean up the mess, and most of the mercs still complained about ringing in their ears because of the explosion.

With black clouds looming on the horizon, the project couldn’t be completed fast enough for her liking. Sadly, the mercenaries seemed to be in no big hurry, and kept distracting themselves by bickering and trying to loot through the boxes like a bunch of excited kids, eager to see what they’d gotten for Christmas.

“I ain’t lifting that one,” Miss Pauling heard Scout shout. Looking over the rim of her clipboard, she saw him standing next to a large box, and staring up at Soldier. Scout’s face was scrunched up in what he probably thought was an intimidating glare. Miss Pauling thought he just looked constipated. Soldier carried two boxes, one on each of his shoulders, and didn’t look too happy to have Scout in his face, managing to pull off a legitimately intimidating look, even with his helmet obscuring his eyes.

“That box weighs twice as much as me. I try to lift that, I’m gonna snap in two,” Scout continued.

Soldier snorted like an angry bull, and said, or rather yelled, “Back in my day, we didn’t have Sallies like you running around. We were strong and lifted boxes all damn day. And then we threw those boxes at the Nazis and we LIKED IT.”

“Pardon me if I ain’t gonna take my history lessons from a certifiable head case like you,” Scout yelled back, jamming his tiny body as close to Soldier’s as possible. It wasn’t exactly the dominant stance he’d hoped for, since he did only come up to the bottom of Soldier’s chin, but he held his ground nonetheless.

“Oh, son, your mouth is writing checks your butt will find uncashable. Uncashable, you hear me!?” Soldier growled, lobbing the boxes he carried to the ground. He shoved himself even closer to Scout, and continued his tirade. “Insinuate that I am crazy one more time, and your butt will be escorted from the bank, am I understood, private?!”

As the two men continued to scream in each other’s faces, Engineer, Heavy, and Sniper walked by them, each carrying a box on their shoulder. Engineer cast a look between Scout, Soldier, and the three boxes lying on the ground, and then, shaking his head, picked up one with his free hand and slung it under his arm. Heavy and Sniper quietly did the same.

Miss Pauling felt a headache coming on as thunder rumbled in the distance.

It was soon drowned out by a loud, celebratory “Woooooo!” that sounded from inside the loading bay. Suddenly, Demoman came rushing out, a bottle of Mann Co. beer in each hand, and a few on the bandolier that usually held his grenades. Miss Pauling didn’t want to think about where the grenades were now.

“Feast yer eyes on this, lads,” Demo called, using a thumb to pop off the cap of a bottle and take a swig. “The lass was good enough te bring us a whole case of the stuff. This wee squall will pass in no time if I have my way about it.”

“Ya best take it easy there, partner,” Engineer said, setting his boxes by Demo’s feet. “Otherwise that case ain’t gonna last you two hours, let alone the entire storm.”

Demo paid him no attention, simply tipped his head back and drained the open bottle. After he’d gotten every last drop, he let out a long sigh of satisfaction before he pointed to Miss Pauling and said, “Bless ye, lass.”

Miss Pauling gave a small smile and said, “I figured you guys might as well have some small comforts while you’re shut up during the storm. It’d get pretty boring around here otherwise.” After a moment’s consideration, she added, “Just please don’t overdo it. I do not want to come back to another Coldfront.”

Medic came up behind her, carrying a box of bottled water in front of him, and huffed, saying, “It was not so bad, Miss Pauling. I managed to reattach Scout’s thumb completely after all.”

Before Miss Pauling could register that nobody had ever mentioned any thumb reattachments, another rumble of thunder, much closer than the last, made the ground tremble beneath them. “Alright, you guys,” she said, taking her lavender pen from behind her ear. “Looks like the rain is ahead of schedule. We need to get these last couple boxes in the base before we all get soaked. Heavy, Engie, can you bring them in? There should only be a few more, mostly more water and stuff.”

The two men nodded and started their way back over to the truck. Miss Pauling continued, “Medic, Sniper, get inside and help Demo, Pyro, and Spy sort through all that stuff. Try to keep Pyro away from the paper products until Engie gets back in there to distract him.”

Medic and Sniper did not look at all happy about their assignment of dealing with the firebug, but they obeyed without a fight, although Miss Pauling swore she heard Medic mumble something she knew for certain to be a German swear. She didn’t bother herself with it at the moment. Soldier and Scout were still arguing a few yards away, and Soldier had managed somehow to find his shovel. This needed to be taken care of before first blood. Tucking her pen back behind her ear, Miss Pauling walked over to them, and managed to catch more of their ridiculous argument insults layered on top of each other so only snippets could be heard at a time.

“...think your shovel scares me, ya lunkhead?”

“...and we lived on falcon eggs and rocks…”

Miss Pauling’s head ached harder. “Guys, that’s enough!”

“He started it!” Scout said, jabbing an accusatory finger right into Soldier’s helmet.

Miss Pauling saw Engineer and Heavy out of the corner of her eye. Their arms were loaded with boxes, and they cast a wary look up at the sky before dashing inside, the added weight of the supplies nothing to them. She heaved a silent sigh through her nose. “I don’t care who started it,” she said evenly. “I’m here to finish it. Now quit screaming in each other’s faces and get inside. If you don’t hurry, you’re gonna get -”

There was a blinding flash of lightning, following by a deafening crash of thunder. Then, the sky almost seemed to open up, and the torrential downpour hit them like a tidal wave beating the shore. All three of them were sodden in a matter of seconds.

“...soaked.”

Soldier and Scout looked at Miss Pauling like a couple of scolded children. Miss Pauling merely jabbed a finger in the direction of the loading bay, and they both began marching toward it. Miss Pauling followed behind them, regretting with every step that she’d decided to wear pumps that kept getting stuck in the sucking desert mud.

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

As soon as Miss Pauling was inside, a towel was draped over her shoulder courtesy of Engineer. She gave him a smile, set her clipboard (which had thankfully managed to stay mostly dry) to the side, and furiously started rubbing herself down. As she pulled off her glasses to wipe the rain off, she saw Sniper throw a couple of towels to Soldier and Scout, managing to hit Scout directly in the face. The towel muffled Scout’s indignant yelp, which Sniper was ignoring anyway to pull down the loading bay door.

Throwing the towel back over her shoulders, Miss Pauling slicked back the strands of hair that had come loose from her bun and pulled out her pen. “Okay, guys, time for some inventory. Just wanna make sure that everything is here. I can already check off the beer…”

Demo gave another hearty “Woooooo!”, before throwing back another bottle.

“So let’s crack open the rest of these and get them put away.”

To her side, Heavy nodded and grabbed a nearby crowbar, jamming it under the lid of the nearest crate and jimmying it open in one swift motion. He tossed the lid out of the way, and it landed with a thick clunk. Engineer tapped Pyro on the shoulder and motioned for him to help him sift through it, while Heavy moved along the line of boxes, cracking each of them open like a powerful machine for a pair of mercs to dig through. For once, Miss Pauling felt as though things were going to go smoothly.

Another crack of thunder made her jump. The noise was as clear as if they didn’t have concrete walls surrounding them, and that made Miss Pauling nervous. She didn’t like being nervous. Nervousness meant a lack of control.

“Sure would be nice if we had a radio,” she said, thinking out loud more than anything.

“Oh yes,” Spy suddenly said, pulling himself away from the box he and Sniper rifled through. “I almost forgot.” He ducked down, and pulled up a small, beat-up black baseball radio. “I’m sure this will be sufficient. Assuming it still works.”

“Hey, that’s mine!” Scout shouted as soon as he set eyes on the radio.

“Don’t be such a child. I merely borrowed it for a greater purpose,” Spy said, setting the device on a nearby chair. He flicked a switch on the side, and a small burst of static began emanating from the speakers, nearly drowned out completely  by the rain beating intensely against the metal roof.

“You coulda just asked,” Scout said, the pout evident in his voice as he went back to pulling paper towels and toilet paper out of his box. “Didn’t have to go through my room and swipe my stuff.”

“Oh, don’t act so scandalized. I go through everyone’s rooms,” Spy said dismissively as he fiddled with the knobs. For a minute or two, it seemed that the radio wouldn’t be able to do anything but spit static at them because of the rain. They got snippets of a drawling political discussions and a very garbled classical music station (which seemed to disappoint Medic immensely), but finally, Spy managed to find the Teufort weather station, although it was quite faint, and interrupted by the occasional burst of static.

  “...citizens wisely preparing for what promises to be a very brutal storm, possibly the *bzzzzzt* of Teufort has ever seen. There *bzzzt* reports of mass flooding, especially along the road leading out of the town and to the highway. All *bzzt* redirected, and many of the roads closed down until the end of the storm. Civilians are advised *bzzzzzzzzt* leaving Teufort, as it is currently incredibly unsafe.”

Miss Pauling’s headache returned with a roaring vengeance.

She was stranded here. She was stranded with a group of nine mercenaries who, last time they’d been cooped up together, had caused explosions and apparently lost thumbs.

“Well, ain’t that a kick in the teeth,” Engineer muttered. “I’m real sorry, Miss Pauling. Looks like you’re stuck with us for the next couple of days.”

The rest of the mercs looked up at her apologetically. Well, except for Scout, who looked quite pleased at this turn of events. In an obvious attempt at smoothness, he said, “Yeah, that’s definitely too bad. But hey, I’m sure we can make the most of it.” He flashed Miss Pauling a crooked smile that made him look like an excited puppy. Miss Pauling had to bite back a frustrated groan.

Spy, letting out a quiet huff, rolled his eyes and shut off the baseball radio. Taking two long strides, he reached Scout’s side and shoved the radio into the boy’s hands. “Yes, we’ll certainly make the most of it,” he said, his tone borderline scolding. “Which is why Miss Pauling will be staying in my room. On the opposite end of the base from yours.”

A titter rippled through the group of men. Scout’s face reddened, and he shot Spy a glare very suited to a sullen teenager.

“Oh, Spy,” Miss Pauling said. “I don’t want take your room.”

“Nonsense,” Spy replied, waving off her concerns. “I insist. I’ll stay in my smoking room. The chairs there are as comfortable as any bed.”

Miss Pauling gave him a grateful smile. “Well, thank you, then. I appreciate that.”

Another crash of thunder made the base tremble around them. Engineer nearly dropped the case of Bonk he was pulling out of a crate. “Sheeeoot,” he muttered. “Always hated storms. Got the worst back home. Least you don’t gotta worry about twisters here. If we had to deal with one of those, I’d be heading for the hills.”

As soon as Engineer set down the case, Scout tore into it, pulling out a can and popping it open. It fizzed merrily. He tipped it back, draining the contents in seconds. Crushing the now-empty can in his hand and tossing it over his shoulder, he said, “You think a twister is bad, hard hat? Try a hurricane. Not only do you got rain, thunder, and lightning 24/7, okay? But you gotta worry about floods too. I remember when I was nine, we got hit with a really bad one. Any of you guys ever heard of Hurricane Esther? Worst one that I’ve ever been through. We got stuck inside for days. Couldn’t leave, couldn’t nothing. Made one of my brothers cry. That was actually the one bright spot of the whole thing.”

Scout’s light-speed chatter tapered off as he pulled out another Bonk and cracked it open. The other mercs seemed to deflate with relief at the silence.

The reprieve did not last, as the loudest crash of thunder the storm had offered up yet once again shook the base. It felt like a bomb had been detonated right outside the loading bay door.

And then the lights went out.

“Well, hell…” Miss Pauling heard Engineer grumble.

From somewhere in the dark, Pyro let out a frightened whine. Engineer once again spoke, this time in a much gentler tone “It’s okay, Smokey,” he said. “I can get those back on, no problem. Just gotta find a flashlight…”

There was a sound of something heavy colliding with a body, and someone let out an “oof!”

“Shit, sorry, uh, whoever that was…” Engineer said.

“No worries, mate,” Sniper ground out. “Ain’t like I need all me ribs anyways…ow...”

There was a sound of footsteps, then a cry of pain from Spy. “That was my foot, bushman!”

“You try getting a metal arm to the gut, ya bloody spook,” Sniper hissed back. “Think it’d take your mind off your shoes getting a bit scoffed.”

“I doubt it, considering these shoes cost more than that repulsive van you sleep in.”

Someone fell backwards into one of the crates, apparently grabbing Medic on the way down. Miss Pauling heard him cry out, “Scheisse!”

“Jesus, hard hat,” Scout grumbled. Miss Pauling heard him scrambling to get back to his feet. He must have been the one to fall into the boxes. “You’re gonna kill somebody with that thing.”

“Well, it’s damn dark, son. I don’t know what to tell ya.” Another thud of metal against flesh, but this time the flesh sounded much more solid. Engineer must have hit Heavy. “Sorry, big guy…”

“Is no problem,” Heavy said casually.

“Did anyone actually see a flashlight in any of the boxes?” Miss Pauling asked. She stood as still as she could. There was no need to contribute anymore to this unfolding chaos.

No one answered her. They were heading towards another Coldfront at full speed.

Then, suddenly, a tiny light filled the space. It drew everyone’s attention simultaneously. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, sat Pyro. In his hands, his lighter, burning brightly.

Engineer grinned and said, “Well, ain’t you a smart little bug?”

Pyro merely let out a sheepish giggle.

Miss Pauling did a quick survey of things - Sniper was still gingerly holding his ribs, though he looked like he wasn’t in too much pain. Spy, now that he was actually able to see them, seemed to be inspecting the damage done to his shoes. Scout hoisted himself back up into a standing position, while Medic glared daggers at him for pulling him down. Engineer was roughly an inch from Heavy’s gargantuan torso. Demo took advantage of the light to pop the top off another bottle of beer, which he handed to Soldier. Both watched the others fumble over each other from a safe distance. Miss Pauling heard them chortle.

She took a deep breath. Things were okay. No one was injured. No one was dead. She could work with this.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Engineer slap Pyro’s hand away from a roll of paper towel stick out of a crate, which he’d been slowly moving the lighter closer and closer to. Pyro let out a defeated whine.

She could mostly work with this.

--------------- It took Engineer two and a half hours to restore the power. “Would have gotten it sooner,” he said as he came back into the loading bay, wiping the sweat away from under his hard hat, “but there were a few times when I had to back off ‘cause of the lightning. Don’t wanna get cooked if it strikes here again.”

“I thought lightning didn’t strike in the same place twice,” Scout said. He’d found his baseball and was lazily tossing it in the air and catching it as it came back down.

Engineer grinned a bit and replied, “That’s just a myth, son. Been through enough storms to know that lightning tends to do strike wherever it damn well pleases.”

Scout seemed unimpressed by this fact. He merely turned his attention back to his baseball, his expression bored and, oddly enough, sleepy. Miss Pauling didn’t even know it was possible for Scout to run out of energy.

Then again, looking at the seven other men lounging around the loading bay, she couldn’t say she was surprised. In the two and a half hours Engineer had been fiddling with the power, they’d been cleaning out the crates of supplies and putting everything away, seeing only by flashlight. It had surprisingly taken a lot out of them. Demo and Soldier were both on the edge of sleep, sitting back to back, still holding bottles of beer in their hands as their heads dipped every so often. More bottles were scattered around their feet.

Sniper had pulled his hat over his face, and she noticed his body slackening every so often as he dozed. Spy took a lazy drag of his cigarette. Medic had fetched his chessboard and had coaxed Heavy into a game. Pyro was practically curled up on the floor like a kitten, napping.

The rain had eased up a bit, though it still hit the roof with rigid consistency. Miss Pauling listened to it for a minute. She supposed that the sound would be enough to lull even hardened mercenaries to sleep after a stressful day of work.

“What about the rest of the stuff in the control room?” she asked. She tried not to yawn. Confound that rain, it was soothing.

“It’s pretty much all shot,” Engineer replied. “Communications are down, and the respawn is just...out. And crawling in there to fix it while this storm is still raging is outta the question. Lightning strikes while I’m in there, I come out looking like bacon left on the skillet too long.”

Miss Pauling couldn’t help the groan that escaped.

No communications. No respawn.

Normally, that wouldn’t bother her. As concerned as she was about the mercs eventually snapping from the confinement and inflicting bodily harm on each other, she at least trusted them enough to not kill each other. They feared Medic and his particular brand of “healing” enough to try and keep themselves in one piece for the next few days.

It was just one more thing to worry about. One more thing that could make things worse. One more thing out of her control. One more thing that she’d have to write up in the mountains of paperwork that were inevitably going to follow this whole debacle. Her head throbbed again.

Spy stood up, pulling her from her increasingly anxious thoughts. Taking one last drag of his cigarette and stamping it out against one of the discarded crates, he said, “I don’t know about the rest of you, gentlemen, but I find myself all ‘funned’ out. And if no one is interesting in cooking dinner…”

A collective groan rose up from the exhausted pile of mercenaries.

“As I expected. With that, I believe I shall retire for the evening.” He turned on his heels until he was facing Miss Pauling. “Shall we?” he asked, motioning towards the hall.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” she replied. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she’d almost forgotten Spy offering his room. She found herself a little too wired for sleep just yet, but she honestly couldn’t think of anything else to do to kill time until she was. Maybe she could just lay down, stare at the ceiling, and wonder what antagonistic gods had thought it amusing to strand her here.

She let him lead down the hall, past the dining hall and respawn room, and into the barracks. They passed eight doors, one for every man in the base - except, generally, for Sniper. Like any outdoorsman, he preferred sleeping outside, and made a habit of sleeping out in his camper van whenever the weather permitted. Weather was most definitely not permitting now, and Miss Pauling had gently persuaded him to remain indoors for the remainder of the storm. Although the suggestion had made him stare at her like she’d grown another head out of her abdomen, he’d grumbled an agreement.

And Miss Pauling’s mother wondered why her daughter seemed so lukewarm on the idea of children.

She nearly collided with Spy’s back as he stopped in front of the final door, near the end of the hallway. They had reached his quarters. Miss Pauling made no comment about how close it was to a large exit sign, leading out of the base.

“If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask me,” Spy said as he opened his door, motioning for Miss Pauling to enter ahead of him. Ever the gentleman, even when motioning a lady into the spartan barracks of a military base.

Looking around the room as she stepped in, she realized “spartan” might even be too generous for Spy’s room. The place was almost completely bare. She knew for a fact that most of the other mercs had some personal things in their rooms - photos of family, posters, calendars, even the occasional pin-up picture in Scout’s case.

Spy’s room was completely spotless. His thin bed was made, blankets smooth and pristine, pillow propped against the wall and looking like a human head had never made contact with it. Minimal personal effects. Hardly a hint about what kind of man lived here, as much a mystery as Spy himself.

The only indication a person was ever in this room was the desk, which held a line of books, pressed against the wall. Moving closer to them, Miss Pauling realized they were very well-thumbed, having obviously seen multiple readings. One book was set aside from the others, a scrap of paper stuck between the pages to act as a bookmark - A Pocket Full of Rye by Agatha Christie.

Spy was reading a cozy mystery?

A quick look at the other books on the desk revealed similarly unexpected titles, at least the ones that weren’t in French - seven books all featuring “Austen” embossed in gold lettering on the spine. A few more Christies thrown in. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Even a dime store copy of The Andromeda Strain.

“You are more than welcome to read those.” Miss Pauling jumped a bit. She’d almost forgotten Spy was in the room, and with his infamous cat-like quietness and grace, he’d walked up to her side to see what she’d been gawking at. He’d pulled out a cigarette in that time, and had managed to silently light it.

“I simply ask that you be careful with Mr. Crichton,” he continued. “A few of the pages are falling out. Cheap glue does not last in New Mexico heat, as it turns out.”

“Yeah…” Miss Pauling muttered, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks and ears. “Um, sorry for being nosy. I just...ya know, never pegged you for much of a reader. Let alone Miss Marple.”

Spy chuckled a bit. “Things can be tedious around here when there are no battles to fight. And Dapper Cadaver is only a monthly subscription, after all.”

Miss Pauling smiled back. Though she’d never say it to Spy’s face, these books offered a look at a side of him he did his best never to show anyone - a human side. It was strangely endearing that this man, who prided himself of his suavity and mystique and ruthless efficiency at putting knives in backs, could be content with reading a quaint story about a spinster turned amatuer sleuth.

She cast another glance at the books. “I don’t get much time for reading these days,” she said. “Demands of the job, ya know? I don’t think I’ve sat down and read a full book since I was in college.”

“I would go mad,” Spy said, pulling a face of mock horror. “Surely we must catch you up. After all, you have plenty of time to fill presently.” He ran a finger down the line of books, humming curiously to himself as he did.

“Really, Spy, it’s fine,” Miss Pauling said. “I’m sure I can find something to do to pass the time.”

“Oh yes,” Spy said. He didn’t look up from the line of books. “I’m sure that Scout would be more than willing to let you ‘hang out’ with him. Sounds positively riveting.”

“...give me the damn book.”

A sly smile spread across Spy’s lips as he pulled out one of the Austen books and held it out to her. Gold lettering on the cover read Pride and Prejudice. She recalled being threatened with the book in high school, if she had chosen to take the AP courses. All the upperclassmen girls had complained loudly about it. She’d stuck with the regular English course and only had to read Huck Finn.

“I dunno, Spy…”

Spy gently set the book in her hands and closed her fingers around it. “Just give it a try, and if you don’t care for it, bring it back. I have many more in my smoking room to choose from,” he said. “I know it seems daunting, but believe me, she is worth it. Besides, I believe you’ll find...a bit of kinship with Miss Elizabeth Bennett.”

“Yeah?”

“She too often finds herself the only voice of reason amongst less than sane persons.”

Miss Pauling couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“Excellent,” Spy said. She didn’t miss the excitement evident in his voice. “Perhaps we can even discuss it once you’ve finished?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Ah, well, it was a noble effort, no?” Spy said, his grin slightly devilish.

Miss Pauling chuckled again.

Spy’s grin softened a bit as he said, “I realize this was not the way you intended to spend the next few days. And I know the others and I...we can be a bit overwhelming.”

“That’s not…” Miss Pauling trailed off, the bare-faced lie dying on her tongue.

“I appreciate you not thinking you had to spare my feelings,” Spy said. “Although we may not act like it, all of us are fairly self-aware. We are forced to spend every day around each other. We know what we are like. I promise you, Miss Pauling, I will try and make this as uneventful as I can.”

Miss Pauling felt a warmth rise in her chest. She clutched the book a little tighter as she said, “Thank you, Spy. For everything.”

Spy bowed slightly at the waist. “You’re quite welcome. Goodnight to you, and enjoy the book.”

And with that, he grabbed up the Agatha Christie and walked out, shutting the door softly behind him.

Miss Pauling looked down at the book in her hand again. It didn’t look too terribly long, and besides, Spy had offered other stuff if she didn’t like it. There was no harm in humoring him, not after a promise like that.

Especially when a glance at her watch showed it was only a little past nine, and she didn’t feel in the slightest bit tired. Who knew, maybe a boring book would be the best way to help her fall asleep.

She sat down on Spy’s bed and removed her mud-caked shoes. She tossed them under the desk, so they’d be out of the way. Then came the nylons, which she pulled off gingerly and folded neatly. At two pair for a dollar, she wasn’t taking any chances with them.  She pulled out the four bobby pins and the rubber band that held her bun in place. She tossed them onto the nearby desk. She gave her now-free hair a quick tousle. Then she pulled her arms into her blouse and undid her bra clasp, pulling it out and tossing it on the floor with the shoes.

Fuck it, she was basically in for the night, and she liked to think no one would come in without knocking first. She was willing to put up with a lot of things, but sleeping in her bra wasn’t one of them.

She laid back, propping herself up a bit on Spy’s pillow, and nestled the book on her chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something small and white at the far end of the desk.

Upon further inspection, she realized it was a bottle of aspirin. A water bottle sat on the desk next to it. She hadn’t even heard Spy set them down before he left.

Well, now there was no two ways about it. She’d have to read the book. It would only be polite.

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

Medic felt his eye give an involuntary twitch when he heard Scout’s loud, obnoxious groans just outside the doors of his lab. And here he’d been hoping to spend the evening in relative peace and quiet, cleaning up around the lab or doing paperwork or tinkering with some Uber upgrades, to the tranquil sound of the rain outside. Another groan, obviously meant to sound piteous, echoed through his lab as Scout stumbled in, slamming the swinging door so hard it banged into the wall and frightened many of the nearby doves into fluttering, in search of less dangerous perches.

Medic’s eye twitched again. He pushed his glasses up and said, “What is it Scout?”

He lifted his head to look at the younger mercenary, who stumbled over to his desk, clutching his stomach as if it were ripping him apart from the inside. “Doooooooc,” he moaned. He sounded like a toddler crying for it’s mother when it wasn’t getting enough attention. “I’m dying, doc, you gotta save me.”

Medic rolled his eyes. Scout was, to be perfectly frank, the biggest baby he’d ever known when it came to physical maladies. Skinned knees got him grinding through clenched teeth that he was sure to bleed out in moments. A black eye had him wailing that he was blind now, worse off even than the black Scottish cyclops. Stomach cramps got him in the fetal position, crying out that it was cancer, it had to be cancer, tell his mother he loved her. Every time, Medic checked him out, submitting him to a full physical exam if that’s what it took, simply to silence the bellyaching. He never found anything more wrong with Scout than the typical bumps and bruises that befell every other man in this God-forsaken base.

He wasn’t about to entertain Scout’s incessant whining tonight, not when the weather already had him in a less than ideal mood.

“Scout, I do not have the patience for you tonight,” he grumbled, standing from his chair and walking out from behind his desk. Perhaps if he put distance between himself and the little twerp, Scout would get the message and leave him be.

“Aww, come on, doc!” If anything, Scout’s whining got even more pathetic. “Feels like I’m gonna keel over any second. Have a little sympathy, will ya?”

“I rarely have sympathy for the idiot who comes in here every time he stubs his toe,” Medic snapped.

Scout opened his mouth, probably to plead his case again, but he quickly shut it and let out another choked moan. His arms pulled even tighter around his abdomen. If Medic hadn’t known better, he’d almost call that genuine pain on Scout’s face.

Medic didn’t have any illusions about his position. He was not what many called “a caring professional”. To him, the healing was a rather tedious side effect of his experiments. After all, it was easier to poke someone’s atrophied liver if they weren’t in danger of dying on you before you could put it back. But you just didn’t figure out the secret to cheating life-threatening injuries by being a bleeding heart to every whining toddler that came limping through your door with stomachaches and broken bones and the entirety of their blood on the outside of their body. It just cut into the amount of hours you could spend finding reasonably priced Loch Ness hamster hearts.

But he wasn’t entirely without compassion. While his comrades tended to give him funny looks when he asked for volunteers for his more...ambitious projects, they did still volunteer. The wild success of his Ubercharge was proof of that. And the biggest reason for it was because he tried his damnedest to do it as painlessly as possible. It didn’t take a dubiously achieved medical license to know that people didn’t like pain, not even mercenaries who were used to be shot, stabbed, and blown to bits.

Medic was many things, but a sadist was not one of them. It just wasn’t conducive to his curiosity.

Which is why, after another pained groan from Scout, he sighed heavily, opened one of his desk drawers, and pulled out a bottle of white tablets. He tossed them to Scout and said, “Take two of these tonight and get some sleep. If you don’t feel any better in the morning, come back. Then I’ll see what else I can do, ja?”

Relief blossomed on Scout’s face. “Thanks, doc,” he said. He turned the bottle over in his hand, the tablets clacking together against the glass. “So, these penicillin or something?”

“It’s aspirin, Scout,” Medic said, turning his attention back to his papers. “You probably will not need penicillin any time soon. Unless you have a case of syphilis you haven’t mentioned. In which case I have been working on a super vaccine from some spare bits of the bread tumors. You will never guess where that gets injected…” For added effect, he looked up slightly and gave his best maniacal grin.

What little color was left in Scout’s face drained away, and he muttered a “Night, doc” before tucking the bottle in his pocket and stiffly walking out.

Medic chuckled once he was alone. He may not have been a sadist by nature, but he seemed to becoming quite cunning in his advancing age.

#team fortress2 #tf2 #fanfic #miss pauling #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #tf2 soldier #tf2 heavy #tf2 demo #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #heavy rains

[dnd-vigilante]

Vigilante Game 2: His Name Was Jimmy

After a few days of not much going on, Martin and compatriots all receive notes asking to come to the Green doored building on Bard Street at Midnight. Seeing nothing wrong with this, not thinking it sounded like a trap, we all agreed to meet one another at the Green Door.

It was dark on Bard Street that night. We all arrived, slightly sleepy and confused why this couldn’t take place during the day instead of the middle of the night when we should be sleeping. We examined the building with the green door and discovered it to be empty and very damaged from the battle of Bastion. Martin knocked, rolling a 22 Strength check, shattering the green door into pieces. The room was dreary and mostly empty. After a time of searching our Cleric noticed a small Gnome across the street waving for us to join him. We waddled across the road and he told us to hush and come in. Immediately we asked what was all of this about, ignoring his pleas for us to be quiet.

Once inside he introduced himself as Cornelius Finch, a scribe in service to the city. He told us that he had been transcribing a book in Abyssal for a man named Ben Kelson who had been killed earlier this week. He was afraid for his life and needed to leave town. Handing us the book, which the necromancer took gleefully, he attempted to scurry out the door. We attempted to make the argument that he would probably be safer with us than alone on the dark roads outside of Bastion. He didn’t want to hear any of this, so scared that he was stuttering and shaking in his little boots. That’s when we heard a sudden bang on the wall.

The window shattered and what appeared to be a chaos infused Mud Mephit burst into the room launching its bile at all of us! This was quickly followed by what appeared to be more cultists like the ones we dealt with the week before. The Mephit was successful in trapping a few of us in its bile, luckily I’m quick on my feet and slipped past the disgusting creatures attack with ease. Martin charged one of the cultists and cleaved his head off launching it at the other two. Surprisingly this did not phase the evil doers and they charged our Dwarven Paladin, who gladly yelled at them to repent their evil ways or she would have to do it for them. After some squabbling with the filth of the Mephit, the rest of the party joined the fray. After exchanging some blows, a man entered the room and told us to stand down or be killed. Since we were already up to our knees in blood and Mephit vomit we ignored him and continued to attack.

A sudden rumbling from outside quickly followed by a large bang against the far wall drew our attention. A hulking undead like figure burst the wall down and groaned threateningly at us. Martin rushed forward and cleaved the beast down with my mighty glaive! This, of course, resulted in bile and who knows what else exploding from its gut and covering us. (This had been a very messy and slightly disturbing fight all things considered). The Mephit still fighting and vomiting on the group was grappled by our Monk and thrown towards the man leading this ill begotten attack. Alvin, our necromancer, seizing upon the opportunity used Thunder Wave and blasted the Mephit into the robed figure, ending both of them.

Once the fighting ended Martin turned to Cornelius, who was now scared shittless, and said: “See! I told you, you’d be safer with us!” He bolted out the door as quickly as he could. Alvin took the time to examine the remains of the undead figure while we looted the bodies of the cultists. We uncovered a Cultist Book that referenced people in town called “The Coin Keeper, The Watchdog, and the Vulture.” We decided to call it a night and headed back to our Inn. All of us smelling of something awful.

The next day we began talking to people around town, gathering information about anything odd happening. We discovered that corpses had been going missing from their graves and that an odd death had occurred at the guard house. The guard house was the place to be so it would seem and we headed out. Approaching the GH we met a guard who seemed to be a little out of it. We introduced ourselves and asked about the death, we were met with rudeness and aggression. How odd. Seeing a name tag that named him James, Martin immediately started calling him Jimmy or “My good friend Jimmy” and tried to show him a few card tricks to lighten the mood. Jimmy did not appreciate either of these things, demanding that we call him James and that he hated card tricks and that we should leave before he had to make us leave! Seeing as he hadn’t helped us in the slightest we kept asking questions all the while calling him Jimmy over and over. Finally, he cracked and told us the death happened during the changing of the guards. Tom, another guard, had been late for his shift and Jimmy didn’t want to wait any further! He asked Alex, another guard if he could cover the watch until Tom arrived. So this was our situation, Jimmy wanted to leave his shift but couldn’t because Tom was late, Alex checked on the prisoner twice during the hour that Tom was not there. And Finally Tom arrived and the prisoner was dead. The prisoner had been a cultist and was going to make a deal with the guards for information. That clearly never happened. So.. the question was how did this man die and who killed him?

We went and talked to the Guard Captain since Jimmy was useless and rude (suspicious), The captain wasn’t exactly helpful either he also had a very strict policy of no swearing… ever, but eventually, he agreed to let us question his men in exchange for the information we had on the cultists. We questioned Jimmy first since this death happened when he was supposed to still be on duty since Tom hadn’t shown up on time. Jimmy was less than useful. Martin kept calling him buddy, friend, Jimmy to help calm him and show Martin was his best friend and Martin just wanted to know what he knew, we notice he seemed extra nervous and started sweating. To help encourage Jimmy, Alvin cast Charm Person on him, which convinced Jimmy that we were indeed his best friends… but he still didn’t want us to call him Jimmy. But it only made sense that we continued to call him that since only his friends call him Jimmy. After the questioning, Alvin sent his raven to follow Jimmy... just in case. We then talked to Tom who hadn’t seen anything other than the dead body, Tom appeared to be clean. We were about to start questioning Alex when Alvin yelled out that Jimmy was stabbing the guard Lieutenant! We rushed out of the interrogation room and over to where Jimmy was!

Martin: “Okay, best friend Jimmy. We can talk this out”

Jimmy: “WE ARE NOT FRIENDS! MY NAME IS JAMES!”

Jimmy then lunged at Martin with his dagger, Martin easily knocked it away. Suddenly, Martin became very sleepy and so it appeared did Jimmy. Martin stumbled forward into him and whispered, “See, we are friends. We’re cuddling up for a nice old nap.”

Jimmy was executed after we found proof on his person that he was tied to the cultists. He was the Watchdog that we had found mention of in the cultist's book. We also learned the location of one of the cultist hideouts from him. The guard captain gained this information and we were left out about how it was acquired. We geared up and set out to the hideout, the cultists unaware of Jimmy’s failure, were caught unprepared by our assault and we dealt with them quite easily all things considered. The leader in charge of this group of cultists had been the Vulture, named for a number of corpses he had been stockpiling under the building we raided. The guards set up a perimeter and we were told that they would take it from there.

We called it a night here after successfully thwarting Jimmy and his cultist buddies. Fucking Jimmy. End of Game Two.

Again I’ll explain what this game is part of, The idea behind Vigilante’s games are that several D&D groups are all active in the same world and are all influencing the happenings and goings on of the Town of Bastion and surrounding area. This has been going on for several months now and I have just joined the fun about two weeks ago. While I’m not sure where this will lead I think it is an interesting idea to have Seven+ groups all playing in the same world. This allows groups to exchange items with each other and also allow players to switch parties to pursue different quests. Overall I think it will work out great and I’ll keep posting updates of my weekly games.

TL:DR We fought some cultists and harassed a guard named Jimmy.

#vigilante gaming #d&d5e #d&d #player characters #d&d adventures #5th edition #homebrew campaign #forgottenrealmsadventures #fighter adventure #first fighter #His Name was Jimmy #Jimmy not james #Making Jimmy our friend #Jimmy never stood a chance #Martins adventure at vigilante

[ecotone99]

[HM] The Weekend Writing Retreat Story

I feel like I spend so much time alone these days, and I hate it. I‘m officially taking over my tiny publishing company in about four months, and I’m so worried that I’m gonna fuck everything up. Things with my family have just been all messy ever since my mom’s accident, and I miss when we were happy and got along better. I haven’t had a girlfriend in years, and these days I’ll get depressed for like two weeks if a chick I’m into doesn’t watch my fucking instagram story. And lastly, but probably most importantly, for some reason I’m just constantly convinced that nobody likes me. And that everyone makes fun of me behind my back. And that the entire world looks at me and just sees a giant creepy old ugly loser.

Soooo...yeah. Good times.

I didn’t know how to face my problems, you guys. But I thought maybe I could just run away and forget about them for a little while.

My best friend Mark owns this little cabin in the middle of the woods somewhere like three and a half hours away. I’d been up there twice already this summer, and I really wanted to go back. Mostly because I’d found that spending a weekend in the forest with nothing to do just seemed to leave me feeling super relaxed. Whereas spending a weekend in my apartment with nothing to do just seemed to leave me feeling super shitty.

So, about two weeks ago, I started texting Mark and some of our other friends to see if anyone wanted to go camping again for a few days. Unfortunately, Mark was gonna be too busy for a while so he wouldn’t be able to go, but he said any of us could use the cabin whenever. However, the other jerks in our group text also either couldn’t go, or they, ya know, just didn’t want to. So I tried inviting a few other people, but, after a couple of days, I still sadly just couldn’t find anyone to go with me.

So I figured I could either spend another weekend alone at home worrying about my problems, or I could just spend a weekend alone at this cabin worrying about not getting eaten by wolves. And one of those sounded slightly more fun than the other.

I felt pretty pathetic going camping all by myself, but I just figured I’d call it a ‘weekend writing retreat’. Ya know, just to make it sound more like being alone was my choice.

So, this past Friday, I got out of work, loaded up my car, and simply took off with the goal of just leaving all of my stress behind for the weekend.

Soon, I was heading down the open road with the sun shining above me. I had my windows all rolled down, my music cranked as loud as possible, a cup of coffee at my side, and a bag of sour patch kids in my lap.

And, just like that, it felt like this veil of darkness was being lifted off of me. It felt like every single one of my problems were just fading away.

Then, suddenly...

“BROOOOO, HOW THE FUCK ARE WE STILL NOT THERE YET?!?”

I turned to see my best friend, Diramio, who was now sitting in the passenger seat next to me.

“Dude, chill D, we’ll be there soon. Just like another hour or so,” I replied.

“FUCK THAT. I’M CRACKING A BEER.”

“Dude, no,” I responded. “Just wait until we get there, I’m not trying to get pulled over and thrown in jail tonight.”

“BRO, YOU LITERALLY HAVEN’T STOPPED SMOKING WEED THE ENTIRE DRIVE SO FAR.”

“Yeah, well, I mean, that is a solid point,” I said smiling. “But still, fuck you, dude. My car, my rules.”

“ARE YOU EVER AT LEAST GONNA PASS ME THAT SHIT?!”

I finished hitting my bowl and slowly exhaled. Then I just looked over at him.

“...no.”

He was just like, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!” and grabbed it from me.

We both laughed as we continued heading down the road. I was so happy to have Diramio with me. I just liked that dude so much, ya know. Everyone’s always liked Diramio. He’s fucking hilarious and just fun as shit to be around.

The rest of the ride was just a nonstop back and forth of the two of us making each other laugh. And soon, before we even knew it, we were turning down the stone path to the cabin. We pulled up, hopped out of the car, and just took a deep breath of that fresh forest air. Diramio quickly began unloading our stuff, but I just chilled for a few moments to take it all in.

We were surrounded by trees on all sides that danced and swayed in the breeze. There were birds tweeting and butterflies fluttering around. The sun was just starting to set in the sky above us. It was all just so god damn beautiful, man. And, for just a second, it made me think of Jane. Because, well, I guess I just kinda associated her with beauty in my head. The way she smiled the last time we hung out momentarily flashed in my mind. And the thought of us one day being together just spun in my brain.

Then, suddenly...

“Beep beep beep.”

I turned to face the stone path leading to the cabin only to be greeted by a truck pulling up next to my car. The truck parked and out hopped my best friend Mark and his fiancée Erin.

“What’s up, jerks?” Mark said as he walked over towards me and D.

“Aww hey guys!!” I replied, immediately giving him and Erin each a giant hug. “I’m so stoked you’re here.”

“Yeah, well someone needs to make sure you don’t burn the place down this weekend,” Mark responded.

We all laughed and just continued unloading our cars and heading inside. I really was beyond happy Erin and Mark had arrived. I just loved them both so fucking much. And, even more than that, I loved how fucking much they loved each other. Like, they really were just perfect for one another. And the fact that they’d each found their perfect match; well, I don’t know, I guess it just gave me hope. Like, maybe one day I’d be just as lucky, ya know.

Soon, the four of us were unpacked and getting ready to have some dinner. As we sat down around the table together; I couldn’t help feeling like we were just this happy little family.

Then, suddenly...

The cabin door burst open. And in walked my best friend, Gabe, and his happy little family.

“Yoooooo!!!” Gabe shouted as him and his two sons, Gabe Jr and Dominic, came bustling inside. “What’s up with my boys?!”

We were all quickly on our feet, greeting Gabe and the kids with hugs and high fives. I was so stoked they’d gotten there. I loved Gabe and his kids so much. I was like genuinely good friends with both of his sons. The three of us would stay up countless nights playing Fortnite together or talking about Spider-Man and stuff. They’d always refer to me as their Uncle Ian, and I don’t know why but that just made me feel so cool.

The three of them got situated and then joined us at the table, and we all enjoyed a nice meal. By the time we finished and cleaned up, it had gotten pretty damn dark outside, so we decided to head out and start a fire. Mark put me in charge of tracking down some sticks for roasting marshmallows. And I was pretty excited, because I figured that, for once, I had a job that I could easily excel at. So, with the notion of easily excelling at a job in my head, I began looking around for some sticks.

Then, suddenly...

A pair of headlights came rolling down the stone path in front of us. And out hopped my best friend Jim.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. Got stuck finishing up this big project for work,” Jim said as he grabbed his backpack from his trunk and came walking up. “Good news though. I brought us a bunch of really expensive fancy liquor to get all fucked up on.”

“FUCK YEAH, JIMMY!!” Diramio shouted, clearly excited about our late-comer and his contributions.

I too was super excited to see Jim. He was the best, man. And of course he brought a bunch of expensive fancy liquor. He had an awesome job where he made a shitload of money, and yeah I mean the dude was just incredibly successful, ya know.

But, even better, he wasn’t alone!

Because Jim got out of the car.

Then, suddenly...

My best friend Rob hopped out too!

“Ayoooo!” he immediately yelled.

“Holy shit, Rob, is that really you?!” I shouted.

“You know it, buddy!”

I couldn’t believe Rob had actually come. Like, he never did anything. And I don’t mean that in a bad way, it’s just, Rob usually just liked hanging out at home, playing video games alone and stuff. He wasn’t big on going out to bars or parties or shit like that. But I was so fucking stoked that we’d somehow gotten him to join us for the weekend.

So, soon, there we were, the whole crew, just sitting around the campfire together. We drank, and smoked, and ate marshmallows, and remembered old times, and told stories, and laughed, and just talked for hours. It was such an absolute blast.

I remember feeling like I just didn’t have a single care in the entire world.

Diramio was the first to call it a night. I don’t think he really planned on it, but he was crushing beers, went inside to pee, and just never came back out. We ended up finding him passed out on the couch.

Mark and Erin were next to turn in, and they aptly took the master bedroom. Gabe and his kids followed, and they took the guest room. Jim was next, and he took the air mattress in the family room. And that just left me and Rob out at the fire, and two empty cots up in the loft.

The fire was dying out as I finished my drink and turned to Rob.

“So what do you say, man? Ready to head inside and get some sleep,” I asked, as I struggled just slightly to get to my feet.

“No, you know what, you go ahead,” Rob replied. “I’m just gonna hang out here by the fire for a little longer.”

“What, dude, really? You’re just gonna sit out here alone?” I asked.

“Yeah. Why not? I like being alone,” Rob responded.

“Umm....alright, fuck it, whatever,” I said. “I’m taking the nicer cot. Night, bro.”

“Night, Ian.”

I went inside the cabin leaving Rob alone by the fire. Everyone else inside seemed to already be asleep, so I kept all the lights off and just did my best not to make any noise as I crept to the bathroom. I brushed me teeth, peed, and then made my way up the little wooden ladder to the loft. Then, I lied down on the nicer cot.

There was complete silence throughout the cabin, but I could still hear the trees blowing outside, as well as the faint crackling of the fire. I glanced over at the empty cot across from me. I couldn’t believe Rob had chosen to just sit outside alone like that. How could he like being alone?

For the first time since I’d left my apartment that afternoon, I started to remember my problems. And being alone was the very first one.

I felt like I spent all my time alone these days, and I hated it.

A sadness fell over me.

And a veil of darkness fell over the entire cabin.

Rob just sat outside, alone, staring at the fire. But then he heard a noise.

He turned around to face the forest behind him. There were just trees and darkness.

But then, again, he heard a noise.

“Hello?” he said sheepishly, “Is somebody there?”

He continued looking out into the woods, but he couldn’t see anything.

Then, suddenly...

He spotted a pair of blood red eyes staring back at him.

Then another.

And another.

Before Rob even had a chance to react; he was being attacked.

He tried to defend himself, but they just came at him from every direction.

He fought the best he could, but there was only so much he could do...against teeth and claws.

And so, only a few moments later, Rob’s lifeless, bloody body was just being dragged off into the darkness.

I woke up the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee coming from the kitchen. I slowly crawled to my feet and slid on my slippers. Then I stood up and went to head down the little wooden ladder from the loft. However, first, something caught my eye.

I glanced over at the cot across from mine. And Rob wasn’t in it. In fact, it looked very clearly like he hadn’t been in it at all the previous night.

Either way, I made my way down the little wooden ladder from the loft and couldn’t help but smile as I walked into the kitchen full of my loud dumb friends. Gabe and his kids were working on cooking eggs for everyone. Mark and Erin were doing the coffee and toasting up some bagels. Jim was sitting at the kitchen table typing away on his laptop. And Diramio was just, somehow, still passed out on the nearby couch.

“Yo IK, got coffee for you,” Mark said, handing me a cup.

“Dude, you fucking rule,” I responded.

I grabbed some milk from the fridge and walked over to the table.

“What are you working on, Jimmy?” I asked as I took a seat.

“Oh just catching up on some emails from clients,” he replied.

“You fucking nerd,” I responded.

“Hey Ian, what’s the deal with Rob?” Gabe asked. “Was he still asleep when you came down? He’s gonna miss breakfast.”

“Wait, what? He’s not down here?” I responded.

“No, didn’t he sleep in the loft with you?” Mark asked.

“Uhhh...I don’t think so. Like, he was still out at the fire when I went to bed, and the cot across from me didn’t really look slept on this morning.”

“Well, where the fuck is he?” Jim asked.

We all just looked at each other.

“Dude, don’t tell me he fucking slept outside,” I said.

Mark, Erin, Jim, and myself all went outside and walked over towards the fire pit. But there were no signs of Rob.

“Ummm, holy shit, you guys,” Erin said, starting to freak out a little. “Like, seriously, where the fuck is he?”

We all quickly began to grow quite frantic.

We started shouting his name. We went back through every room in the cabin. We checked our cars. There was just simply no trace of him anywhere. He was just gone.

By now, Gabe and his kids had abandoned making breakfast, and all of us just stood outside the cabin panicking. Diramio finally woke up and stumbled outside wondering why we were all being so fucking loud.

“Dude, Rob’s missing!!” I shouted.

“Oh man, is that all you guys are worried about?” Diramio replied groggily. “I thought you guys were saying we GOT robbed. I was praying they didn’t take the rest of that fancy expensive liquor.”

“Diramio, that’s not funny,” Erin replied.

“Guys, relax,” Diramio responded. “Rob probably just went to take a shit in the woods or something and got turned around. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Bro, you get turned around in these woods, and you’re fucked. Like, he could be lost for days out there,” Mark replied.

“Well then,” Jim said, stepping up in front of us, “...we better go find him.”

“Dude, fuck that shit,” Diramio answered.

“Shut up, D,” Jim replied, “You’re coming with me, and we’re going north. Mark, you and Erin go south. Gabe, you and Gabe Jr. go east. And Ian, you take Dominic and go west. We’ll search for an hour and then meet back here. Everyone be careful. Don’t get lost. And, most importantly, find Rob.”

Jim taking charge worked and soon we were all heading out into the woods to find our missing friend.

Dominic and I followed along an old ATV path deep into the forest. We continued shouting Rob’s name as we hiked, but of course our calls went unanswered. We’d been walking for about a half hour or so when suddenly a bird flew out right in front of me, causing me to scream like a little girl. Dominic started dying laughing.

“Shut up, little dude, this is why I didn’t become a professional forest ranger,” I said.

“Yeah, you’re not a professional anything,” Dom responded still giggling.

“Hey, ya jerk, that’s not true. I run my own company. That’s gotta be worth something,” I replied defensively.

“No, you don’t,” Dom responded.

“Well...okay, no I don’t. But I’m second in command. And my boss is retiring at the end of the year, then I’m taking over. So, soon, I really will be in charge.”

“Uncle Ian, I can’t picture you in charge of anything,” Dom replied.

“Dude, shut up,” I answered. “Right now, I’m charge of you so stop being a little dick and let’s get back to trying to find our friend.”

“Fine,” Dominic said. “But I’m telling my dad you called me a dick.”

The two of us continued making our way through the woods searching for any trace of Rob. However, as we walked, stupid little Dominic’s words kept echoing in my head. He was right. Like, I shouldn’t even be in charge of my own life. How was I gonna be in charge of a company?

Once again, I was suddenly reminded of another problem I’d gone on this trip to escape. I’d be taking over this company soon, and I just legitimately had absolutely no idea what I was fucking doing. I was so nervous that I was gonna just end up completely out of business in less than a year. I’d always been a pretty shitty employee at every job I’d ever had. So I couldn’t help but imagine I’d be an even shittier boss. I wished I was a hard-working, ambitious, go-getter like Jim. But I knew I wasn’t. And I knew I never would be.

For the second time since I’d arrived at the cabin; an immense sadness washed over me.

And a veil of darkness fell over the entire forest.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest, Jim and Diramio had just found a clue.

“Diramio, does this look like blood to you?” Jim asked, as he pointed out a small spot of red on the trunk of a tree.

“I don’t fucking know, bro,” Diramio responded. “Can we just go back to the cabin? I need a drink.”

“Dude, Rob’s fucking lost in the woods and could be dead for all we know,” Jim replied. “How are you not taking this seriously?”

“I mean, I am, but I also just seriously need a drink.”

Suddenly, just then, the two friends heard a noise. Nothing big, but just a little rustling from a bush a few feet in front of them.

But then, there was another rustling. From a bush a few feet behind them.

Then one from their left.

Then one from their right.

Then, without warning...these huge fucking wolves emerged and began to surround them.

That’s right. Giant, hungry, scary-looking wolves.

They had bright red eyes, sharp claws, and massive teeth.

“Holy shit,” Jim whispered. “Diramio, don’t move. If they attack, our only shot at fighting them off is working together. You with me?”

There was silence.

“Diramio?” he said again.

Still, no answer.

Jim finally turned just in time to see the back of Diramio’s shirt as he was sprinting away.

“Diramio, you motherfu....”

Jim never even got that last word out before the terrifying beasts surrounding him pounced.

And, moments later, his lifeless, bloody body was just being dragged away into the forest.

Dominic and I returned to the cabin almost the same exact time as Gabe and Gabe Jr. Neither of our groups having found any hints at all as to an explanation for Rob’s disappearance. Mark and Erin got back soon afterwards, and they too had failed to find anything. The six of us just stood around fearing the worst. We decided if Diramio and Jim also returned empty-handed, then we’d just go to the police and hopefully they’d be able to help.

Time ticked by as we waited for Diramio and Jim to get back. We were just starting to get worried about them when suddenly we heard Diramio screaming off in the distance.

“FUCK...

THIS...

SHIT,

BRO!!”

He finally came bursting through the trees near the cabin, and, as soon as we saw him, we could all instantly tell something was seriously wrong.

Diramio ran right past all of us and straight inside.

We all looked at each other. And then we followed him.

As we walked in, Diramio was already over by the kitchen table, straight up pounding the bottle of fancy expensive liquor Jim had brought.

“Hey, uhhhh, D,” Mark said softly, “Where’s Jim?”

Diramio kept chugging from the bottle until it was completely empty. Then, he slammed it down on the table in front of us, took a deep breath, and simply said...

“Jim just got eaten by wolves, you guys.”

“No, seriously, where is he, Diramio?” Erin asked.

“BRO, SERIOUSLY, JIM JUST GOT FUCKING EATEN BY FUCKING WOLVES!!” Diramio shouted. “HUGE WOLVES WITH SCARY RED EYES. THEY SURROUNDED US OUT IN THE FOREST. I DID EVERYTHING I COULD TO FIGHT THEM OFF, BUT JIM BEGGED ME TO RUN AWAY AND SAVE MYSELF.”

“Dude, Diramio, stop fucking around, man. Enough is enough,” Mark said, beginning to sorta lose his cool.

“Guys, for real, I’m not fucking around. Jim just got eaten by wolves. I’d be willing to bet Rob did too. We gotta get the fuck out of these woods, right now,” Diramio said, with a stark sternness to his voice none of us had ever heard him use before.

As crazy as it sounded, we figured maybe Diramio was actually telling the truth. But, either way, now TWO of our friends were apparently missing. So it was definitely time to leave the woods and go to the cops. We all began packing up our stuff and getting ready to head into the closest town.

However, Erin walked outside to load up Mark’s truck, and a split second later, we all heard a terrifying scream. We rushed out front and quickly saw that Erin had a made a gruesome discovery. The tires on all of our cars had been slashed. Well, more than slashed really. They were all completely shredded. It almost looked as though they’d been...clawed.

“Yo, you motherfuckers believe me now?” Diramio yelled. “The fucking wolves did this!”

Now, none of us knew what to think. We all just ran back into the cabin to regroup.

“Listen, guys,” Gabe said, “wolves or no wolves, something fucked up is clearly going on right now. And I gotta get my kids out of here safely. I’m their dad. They’re my family. I have to protect them.”

“Wait,” Mark shouted. “I have my four-wheeler outback. You and the kids can take that to get to the nearest town and then send help.”

We all ran outback and were relieved to find the ATV’s tires were still in good shape.

Gabe, Gabe Jr., and Dominic all climbed on board.

“Stay on the trails, and you should be fine,” Mark said. “You’ll hit a pretty major road in about fifteen miles. And if you follow that, you should eventually reach the town.”

“Don’t worry, I got this,” Gabe said. “You guys just stay safe. We’ll send help as soon as we can.”

With that, Gabe and the kids took off on the ATV, leaving behind just Mark, Erin, Diramio, and myself.

“Yo, I don’t understand why they get to leave, but we’re stuck here,” Diramio said, as the four of us began walking back into the cabin. “I mean, I like Gabe’s kids, but I also kinda like not getting eaten by fucking wolves.”

We all kinda nervously chuckled as we headed inside. However, I was a few steps behind the others, and I just kinda stopped in the doorway for a moment. I turned and looked back at the dust trail Gabe had left behind. I prayed that him and his kids would be alright. I thought it was so impressive that he’d stepped up to protect his family like that. I thought about my family. I already knew we’d never do anything like that for each other.

And just like that, another problem returned to my mind. Things with my family were just so messy. My mom had been the glue that held us all together, ya know. So, ever since her accident, it just seemed like we’d all been coming apart. I felt like my brother hated me. I felt like every conversation I had with my dad would eventually just turn into an argument. I felt like I wasn’t helping my sister enough as she struggled to take care of everyone. I just missed when we used to be a happy little family. Like Gabe and his kids.

Once again, sadness filled my heart.

And, once again, darkness filled the woods.

Gabe and his kids were flying down the narrow trail. He figured they’d probably already gone at least a dozen miles and should be hitting the main road soon. Gabe Jr and Dominic clung on tightly to their dad’s back as they sped along.

Suddenly, Dominic spotted a dark blur moving quickly through the wilderness on their right side. Then, Gabe Jr. noticed the same thing on their left. They quickly began trying to get their father’s attention over the loudness of the four-wheeler.

It soon worked, and Gabe turned around, only to immediately see multiple giant fucking wolves chasing right behind them on the trail, as well as along both sides of them. He cranked down on the gas in an attempt to get away, but it was no use. They stayed right there with him. Finally, one came running up from the side, causing Gabe to swerve in the other direction. He lost control and the four-wheeler careened off the trail and right into a tree. Gabe and his kids were all sent flying. Then, dozens upon dozens of hungry terrifying wolves just quickly descended upon all three of them.

And, sure enough, soon, their lifeless, bloody bodies were just being dragged away into the woods.

The sun was just beginning to set in the sky outside the cabin. Inside, the four of us were just doing our best to keep our shit together. By now, it had been at least a few hours since Gabe had left, and we still hadn’t heard anything from him or the help he was supposed to send. The shitty tv in the family room only got a handful of channels, but we’d managed to find one playing a marathon of old Home Improvement episodes. So, we all just sat there quietly, watching Tim the Toolman Taylor.

But, eventually, Diramio broke the silence.

“Dude, this is so fucked up. Gabe and his kids should’ve reached that town hours ago and sent help. I bet they got eaten by wolves.”

“Diramio, shut up, don’t say that,” I replied. “Even just joking around about Gabe’s kids dying seems super messed up....”

“Fuck that, I’m not even joking,” he replied. “I bet they got eaten by wolves, and I bet soon we will be too.”

“D, relax,” Mark said. “We’re not gonna be eaten by wolves. Help will come.”

“Yeah, but what are we gonna do if it doesn’t,” Diramio responded.

Mark tried to reply, but he didn’t really have an answer.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Diramio said. “You don’t know what we’re gonna do. But I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do...I’m gonna get super fucked up.”

And with that Diramio stood up and walked out of the family room.

After he left, Erin turned to Mark and said, “Babe, for real, what are we gonna do if help doesn’t come?”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Mark said, putting his arm around his fiancée. “Help will come. And until it gets here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to us.”

“Promise?” Erin asked.

“I promise,” Mark said. “Plus, babe, this cabin’s made out of bricks. So even if there are big bad wolves out there; going by three little pig logic we should be safe.”

Erin laughed.

“I love you, Mark.”

“I love you too.”

As I witnessed this conversation between my soon to be married friends, I couldn’t help but to feel a tiny bit of jealousy. Well, actually, I felt a shitload of jealousy. I wished I had someone who loved me.

I wished Jane loved me.

Once again, a problem I’d managed to momentarily forget rushed back into my head. I don’t know why I fucking liked Jane so much, you guys. Like, seriously. I know she’s never going to want to fucking be with me. But I just can’t help it. No other girl makes me feel the way she does. Bro, this shit isn’t fucking fair. I just wish for once a girl I was into was actually into me back, man. How come that never fucking happens for me?!? Like, what the fuck is so wrong with me, you guys?!?!?

The sadness hit me this time like a punch to the face.

The darkness surrounded the cabin like a flash flood.

Then, suddenly...

CRASH!!! CRASH!!! CRASH!!! CRASH!!!

Wolves violently burst in through every single window of the cabin.

“Holy Fucking Shit!” Mark screamed. “The pig story never mentioned windows!!”

The wolves lunged for Erin, but Mark dove in front to protect her. There were just too many wolves though. They quickly tore right through Mark.

“Ian, help!!” Erin screamed.

But there was nothing I could do. Wolves just continued flooding in through the windows, and I had no way of getting to her before they did.

“Erinnnn!!!!” I shouted as I watched them viciously bite into her.

“YO MOTHERFUCKER, WE GOTTA MOVE!!”

Before I knew what was happening, Diramio was yanking me out of the family room, which was now completely overrun by wolves. We quickly ran through the cabin as more and more of the monstrous beasts came bursting through every window and doorway.

“QUICK, GET UP THE LITTLE WOODEN LADDER TO THE LOFT!” Diramio shouted as the two of us dashed past more of the ferocious killers.

We reached the little wooden ladder and quickly climbed up just before they got to us.

Diramio and I looked down from the loft at what appeared to be at least a hundred terrifying wolves staring back up at us with their big red eyes and giant teeth.

“IAN, BRO, WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE GONNA DO?!?” Diramio shouted. “I DON’T WANNA GET EATEN BY WOLVES!! I DON’T WANNA FUCKING DIE, DUDE!!”

Unfortunately, hearing Diramio say that he didn’t want to die...once again caused immense sadness to wash over my body.

And a veil of darkness to cover my entire world.

Because, just like that, my last and largest problem suddenly popped back into my head.

“Well, of course YOU don’t want to die, Diramio,” I quietly said. “Why would you? People actually like you.”

“Wait? What?” Diramio responded. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean.”

“Nothing, man. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Bro, I’m here, you might as well talk to me.”

“Dude,” I responded, “that’s the problem...you’re not actually here. You’ve never actually been here. Nobody ever was. I literally couldn’t find a single fucking person to go camping with me this weekend. So I just had to go alone. Because nobody fucking likes me, man. Everyone says their my friend. Everyone says they care about me. But nobody ever wants to spend time with me. Nobody ever wants to hang out. Nobody ever wants to do anything.”

As I spoke, the wolves below began growing more restless and aggressive. They soon started figuring out how to inch their way up the little wooden ladder to the loft. And the sadder I got, the higher they climbed.

“Ian, dude, you need to stop,” Diramio said, noticing the beasts getting closer and closer. “Like, I know I’m not really here, but I still don’t wanna get eaten by a fucking wolf, bro.”

“Diramio, I don’t want to hate being alone. I don’t want to worry about work or miss how my family used to be. I don’t wanna get depressed over girls. And I don’t wanna feel like nobody likes me. But I can’t help it, man. I thought by coming up here for the weekend I could escape my problems, but it didn’t work. They followed me. And now they’re gonna get us.”

“Bro, you just need to face your problems head on instead of trying to run away from them,” Diramio shouted, as the wolves were now only inches away from reaching us.

“Dude, I don’t know how to face my problems!!” I yelled back.

“YES YOU DO, IAN,” Diramio screamed. “YOU ALWAYS HAVE.”

The wolves finally made it to the top of the little wooden ladder and went to pounce.

“Howwww, Diramio, just tell me!” I screamed at the last moment.

“Well you called this a weekend writing retreat, right bro?” Diramio said, as the wolves closed in around him.

“Maybe you should try fucking writing...”

And with that, the wolves attacked Diramio.

“NOOOOO!!!” I screamed.

But it was too late.

They quickly began dragging him back down the little wooden ladder.

However, what he had just said struck me.

Like, I HAD called this a weekend writing retreat.

And, well, maybe that was the secret here, man.

Maybe, instead of using this weekend to try to escape my problems, I could literally do the exact opposite, and use it to face them.

I could deal with my problems the same way I just dealt with everything: by writing a fucking weird ass story about them.

And I knew writing about my problems wouldn’t actually solve them, you guys.

But it wouldn’t be running away from them either.

And I was never going to be able to run away from my problems.

They were always gonna be there.

Hunting me down.

Chasing me.

Just biting and scratching at me.

Like fucking wolves.

I looked down at the hundreds of beasts mauling Diramio below me.

I still wasn’t convinced writing a story about my problems would actually help. But there was one thing I was absolutely certain of.

And that’s that, if I did write a story about my problems...

I wasn’t gonna let it fucking end like this.

Because, as much I was convinced that nobody liked me, deep down, I knew that there was at least one person who did.

And I wasn’t about to let him get eaten by fucking wolves.

I stood up, took a deep breath, and just shouted, “Hold on, Diramio! I’m coming!”

And with that, I dove over the edge of the loft and into giant mess of murderous creatures below.

As soon as I landed, I just started punching and kicking and head-butting every fucking wolf around me. Somehow I managed to knock away the ones dragging Diramio, and I was fucking delighted to discover he wasn’t quite dead yet.

“HOLY FUCK, BRO!! I THOUGHT I WAS DONEZO!!” he shouted, as he climbed to his feet and joined me in fighting the onslaught of wolves coming at us.

“Nah, fuck that shit, D,” I replied. “It’s time to face this shit head-on.”

The two of us went back to back as the wolves continued attacking us.

“IAN, YOU NEED TO REALIZE,” Diramio yelled, as we both kept struggling to fight off the frenzied animals. “PEOPLE DO LIKE YOU, MAN. FUCKING EVERYONE LIKES YOU. PEOPLE DON’T LAUGH AT YOU BEHIND YOUR BACK. WHEN YOUR NAME COMES UP, PEOPLE USUALLY JUST SAY SHIT LIKE, OH I KNOW IAN KINNEY. I LIKE HIM.”

After Diramio shouted that, somehow, someway, a giant sword appeared in his hands. And so he just quickly began using it fight off the wolves.

Then, suddenly...

Mark and Erin came bursting through the back door of the cabin.

“Ian, trust us,” Mark said. “One day you will find love, dude. I know it’s hard sometimes, but if it was easy, it wouldn’t be worth it.”

“You just have to keep being yourself, Ian,” Erin added. “You’re an awesome guy. And maybe this Jane doesn’t realize that. But the next one will. I promise.”

As soon as Mark and Erin finished talking, they both whipped out machine guns and started blasting the shit out of wolves.

Then, suddenly...

The front door burst open and in ran Gabe and his kids.

“Bro, nobody’s family is perfect,” Gabe shouted. “But the fact that you care so much shows how much you love them. And that’s what really matters, man.”

“Plus, I know you think we’re a happy little family,” Gabe Jr. added. “But we wouldn’t be without you.”

“Yeah,” Dominic said. “You’re our Uncle Ian.”

Once again, as soon as my friends stopped talking, they pulled out weapons and joined the battle against the wolves. Gabe had a little tiny slingshot and his sons both had giant grenade launchers.

“Wait, dude, hold on,” Gabe said, “How come I only get...”

Then, suddenly...

Jim came bursting through the ceiling and landed right in the middle of the fight.

“Ian, dude, don’t worry about work, bro,” Jim quickly shouted. “Like, for real, in the last ten years, you went from dreaming about being a writer to now running your own publishing company. You’re gonna be fine. I just can’t wait to see how much higher you rise, man.”

Jim finished his quick speech, pulled out a chainsaw, and then just started massacring wolves with the rest of us.

Then, finally...

The floor of the cabin broke open and out crawled Rob.

“Ian, you’re not alone,” he said. “You never have been. You never will be. Almost everyone in the cabin has had your back for literally over thirty years now. We’re not fucking going anywhere, dude. We’re always gonna be here for you. Even if it’s just to help you fight imaginary wolves in an incredibly weird fucking story.”

And with that, Rob whipped out the golden gun from Goldeneye 64 and joined the brawl.

So, there we were, the whole crew, just fighting wolves together.

And, eventually, after a long and bloody battle; we won.

We didn’t actually kill all of the wolves. Most of them just ran away. So I knew they’d be back in time.

But, I also knew, when they did return, I wasn’t going to try to escape or run away from them.

I was just going to deal with them.

The only way I knew how.

I hope you liked this weird ass story, you guys.

It will not be my last.

THE END

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