#// Not how I'd start a Wednesday but HERE YA GO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shoutoutout · 24 days ago

Text

I've started up another Harlivy fic and was digging through my docs and found this old version of the noses & kneecaps section of she breaks (out, down, through). I cut it way down and changed up the setting for the published version but this Harley quote had me giggling so I thought I'd post here for folks!

Harley turns to the chef. “If you fucking spit in this food I will literally gut you right now, you hear me? I’m not letting my bestie eat any of your loogies so tell me if you did because she’ll fucking know, alright? This bitch will taste them and then you’ll be dead and the misses and junior over there are gonna have a sad as shit Christmas this year.”

You can read the rest under the cut

Surprising no one, Ivy’s not that great at the whole “friendship” thing.

For starters, she has no frame of reference by which to judge. Like her namesake, she was a wallflower as a child and when high school rolled around she bloomed into a sarcastic loner with Indigo Girls blasting through her headphones. It left little room for normal girl shit like… well… she would name something if she knew.

But even still, with all her lack of experience, she’s pretty sure that this—Harley’s idea of friendship—is not quite normal.

“I could use some new threads.” Harley calls Ivy out of the blue on a Wednesday evening. “Cops confiscated all the stuff back at my old place… not like I’d wear any of it anymore. God, I was such a tightass wasn’t I, Ives? So how about it? A girl’s day out?”

Ivy doesn’t know what to say, knuckles pale green where they grip the phone. She regrets giving Harley her number. (And by “giving” she means Harley snatching the phone from her pocket and calling herself before Ivy had the chance to stop her.) The thought of strolling through a department store with Harley causes her anxiety to ratchet the way it did when the pretty girls would laugh at her in English class. What would they even talk about for fuck’s sake?

Not much to start, it turns out. Harley’s version of shopping is a lot less mundane and a lot more criminal. They end up taking twelve hostages in Bergsduff’s and leaving with two hundred thousand in designer goods. Muzak plays idly in the background as Harley holds the salesclerk at gunpoint, parading him around the floor while Ivy snatches up some cute summer looks. His nose drips blood from where she pistol-whipped him upon entrance.

“Hey, try those on,” Harley suggests, waving the gun wildly towards a pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses. The hostages in her line of fire duck and scramble when it points in their direction. “Those’ll look real hot on you! Perfect for your face shape.”

Even the sales clerks—with the barrel of Harley’s gun poking between his shoulder blades—can’t help but agree.

Ivy slips them into her pocket.

They go to dinner.

“And it better be fucking vegan, alright?!” Harley screeches through the kitchen door. When she turns back to Ivy, she’s all grins and bubbles. “He said it should be right out!” she relays, skipping back towards the table.

Ivy glances towards the chef’s wife and son where they lay bound and gagged, piled in the living room corner. Harley had arranged a “private meal” by Gotham’s hottest new chef after Ivy had told her the reservations for his restaurant were usually booked a month in advance.

“Are you sure we don’t have to worry about them?” Ivy asks with a skeptical slant towards their hostages?

“Nah,” Harley dismisses. “They’re chill.”

Their captive hosts nod in agreement, wide-eyed and terrified.

They talk about boys.

“So like I was saying,” Harley picks up where she left off, twirling a fork between two fingers. “Joker has some real ripe areas for improvement with the overall rollout of his new brand vision before the Legion of Doom induction, ya know? Just some things I’m helpin’ him out with… order of operations and stuff like that.”

Ivy’s thankful Harley’s doing all the talking. She fills the space with an endless stream of stray observations and chatter.

She gets a dreamy look in her eye, resting her head against her palm. “I mean, he’s a real genius, ya know? It’s pure art what he does.” (Ivy wants to vomit but the food is coming soon.) “And don’t ever tell him I said otherwise”—she sits up, clasping her hands together—“but in general, there’s a lack of foresight to some of his schemes. Like escape plans, for example. Usually he has it all figured out when Batsy arrives—how to get away that is—but not for the whole crew, ya know?”

Ivy narrows, not quite getting at what she’s saying.

Harley shimmies closer in her chair, propping her elbows on the table. “Okay, okay, so like, there’ll be a getaway car, right? But it’s one of those clown cars, like a tiny one. Only this clown car isn’t like a clown car where it can fit all the rest of us; it’ll just fit him.” She pauses to let Ivy consider. “Is that… is that funny? Like ha-ha Joker-level theatrics?”

Ivy’s dumbfounded. “A clown car that’s just a regular tiny car…that only Joker can escape in… and he leaves you all behind to get caught,” she summarizes, doubt dripping from her tongue. “So you’re telling me he just like, takes off in a Smart car?”

“Yes!” Harley nods, excitedly. Her jester’s cap bounces with the motion. “Exactly! Just a Smart car for one. It could use some work, right?”

Ivy doesn’t even know where to begin. Luckily the chef returns, placing two gorgeous plates of food before them. Harley squeals beside her and Ivy snaps to attention, grabbing her fork. It smells fucking heavenly as it comes to her mouth but then Harley’s hand is strong around her wrist, stopping her mid-bite.

He shakes his head and whimpers; Harley seems satisfied. They dig in.

“Oh my god,” Ivy says, flavor dancing across her taste buds. “This is like… orgasmic.”

Harley preens. “Only the best for my friend!”

Friend. It rolls so easily off of Harley’s tongue and Ivy wonders what it is exactly that makes this shit so hard for her. Ivy tries to play along but she’s transported back to English class with Melinda Jenkins snickering every time Ivy raised her hand. “Ha,” she tries. “I owe ya one… pal.”

God, she’s a fucking dork but Harley couldn’t care less. She pounces. “Come to me and J’s Legion of Doom induction then?!” she asks like the question was burning a hole through her tongue. “It’s this weekend. We can drink all of Lex’s fancy-ass champagne. Please? Please? Please, Ivy?”

Harley puppy-dog pouts and Ivy’s stomach flips. Is this normal friend shit? She has no idea.

“I’m sorry but fuck no. No way. Literally anything but that.” Harley will just have to deal; Ivy is decidedly not a good friend.

#harlivy #harley quinn #poison ivy #harlivy fic #harley x ivy #ivy x harley #pamela isley #harleen quinzel #my fic

34 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 28 days ago

Note

I just wanted to say I think you're really cool in the way you defend your own boundaries while also trying to see the best in people (e.g. off-topic Wednesday asks / etc.). Like you make your ask box feel like it's okay to ask questions or not worry too much about how something might come off wierdly if it's read a certain way but also you don't let people walk over you, and that balance is a fucking skill which takes effort and work.

Thank you. 🧡 I definitely do go to a lot of effort to be clear about certain things I'm cool/not cool with while also assuming the best of people's intentions if I ever get comments or questions that are phrased poorly or seem . . . well, questionable, to make an unintentional pun there, haha. I just don't wanna start shit that doesn't need started or slather bad vibes all over some poor well-intentioned random soul who just doesn't have the most immediately up-to-date/informed language or certain experiences to inform their perspective, AND all over all of your dashes on top of that. Like, we were all confused about shit and awkwardly attempting to figure out what the magic question that would explain that shit to us was at SOME point in our lives, if nothing else. You gotta remember your internal stupid kid and how bad they wanted to figure shit out without having the tools for it!! You just gotta!!!!

Like, I literally did not realize gay and bi people were a thing until I was FOURTEEN, man, I just did NOT have that context/experience as a kid. And then, like, four months later I was . . . uhhhhh I'm pretty sure literally the first kid who was publicly out in my entire very tiny "quaint lil' small town full of well-off retirees with gorgeous lawns and literally nothing for a teenager to do outside of school" high school, and at least as far as I ever knew there wasn't another one until my friggin' senior year. And I didn't figure out what asexuality was OR my gender identity until I was in my thirties, despite actively TRYING to figure those out! I just didn't know! I didn't have the word for it for so long I didn't even GET it was a thing that should have a word!

Though to be honest, I really do get way, WAY more people worrying that they're overstepping and preemptively apologizing about it than I ever do people who are actually doing anything I'd personally consider to be overstepping, and I get even fewer people who are INTENTIONALLY overstepping on top of that. Like, I've been very lucky in the audience I've managed to snare/cultivate in my internet times, I very rarely encounter anyone coming into my inbox in bad faith. "Don't like/don't read" seems to be generally respected and I appreciate it, basically, hah.

Also, like, not to get too extra or serious here, but a lot of the reason I write fanfic is because it can contain a lot of things that standard publishing is less immediately open to releasing--like, especially back when I started, it was just NOT a thing to have explicitly queer kids in mega-popular mainstream YA series or all that much gender/racial/neuro diversity past, like, token presences that were at MOST only diversity-CODED half the time anyway and "didn't like labels". And like, that bugged me a LOT as a kid and as a young adult, and still kinda bugs me sometimes these days. I wanted, you know, that SEEN feeling, and I didn't want to only get it from hyper-niche genres/authors that were only writing about being queer and sad about it. I wanted that shit in my dang sci-fi and fantasy and all the FUN stuff, not just, you know, the tragedy-porn cautionary tales. So I want people who are reading my stuff to feel that way, even and ESPECIALLY when they're some totally different flavor of whatever we are from me, and so I REALLY try to be inclusive and welcoming and assume the best of people, at least to the best of my ability.

. . . okay I got kinda carried away with this answer, maybe, haha, but tl;dr: literally everyone has got enough bullshit going on in their lives, I can at least be nice about weird kinks and random gender/mental/physical/???? issues that I don't always necessarily understand the full nuances of on the internet.

#moriartea42 #rintalk #so yeah thank you for noticing my efforts I do SO much work to keep that balance for us all hah #I do my best!!#our best is all we can do!!!!#also lbr healthy boundaries help with the 'tisms so much 'cuz healthy boundaries means RULES to follow yaaayyyyy #best cheat sheet for human interaction ever!!

34 notes · View notes

munsonsprincess11111 · 11 months ago

Text

Hopper and munson?

Eddie munson x reader

Summary: your Jim hoppers daughter. Dating the one and only Eddie munson. You've been dating for 2 months but it's finally time for that dreaded family get together. In this al comes back purely for this get together and leaves again.

Eddie loves you. More then anything. Only catch. He's a munson. Your a hopper. Yours dad's cheif of police. His is a master criminal. Eddie tells his dad about your relationship on a pgine call and askes him to come for the family dinner. To his surprise al agrees.

He was due to come to your house at 5pm Wednesday after school with Al and Wayne. But the hole school day. Eddie was a fucking wreck.

"Dude you've met hop before." Gareth says trying to calm Eddie. He glares at the boy. "I'm aware but I've never done this. I've never been around him while dating his daughter and my dad actually being present." Eddie's legs bouncing as he says this. He's wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. But he feels the smallest weight lifted off his shoulder when you come up behind him and kiss his cheek.

"Calm down." You whisper in his ear. You sit next to him placing your bag next to you. Eddie looks up at you and smiles leg still shaking. You put your hand out and Eddie gladly takes it. Laying his head on the table. Slowly his leg stops bouncing.

"Thank fuck your here thought he was gonna explode." Dustin says from thr other end of the table. Eddie looks up and shoots him a glare putting his head back on the table.

"First I doubt he would've exploded. Second he has every right to be anxious. Fuck wouldn't you all be. Dustin how would u feel if suzie asked u to meet her super religious dad?" You ask Dustin.

"I'd be nervous as shit." HE mumbles

"EXACTLY Eddie's feeling like that times 100 right now. So all of you shut up and eat your food. And I swear next person to say something about Eddie I'm gonna personally punch. OK?" NO one at the hellfire table likes it when u switch. So they all nod and start talking about anything and everything else

"Thank you." Eddie whispers squeezing your hand slightly. He was stressed. He knew what his dad was like. He knew your parents hated eachother. "Your welcome." You whisper back. Eddie stays like that the rest of lunch. 15 minutes later the bell goes and your all parting ways.

"SEE ya at 5 handsome." You says kissing his cheek walking off to your lesson. Swaying your hips to give him a little show. He smirks shaking his head. But ad u disappear out of sight the anxiety is back. Roll on 5 o'clock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie knocks on your door. Al stood next to him Wayne the other side. He's a wreck. But he can't show that standing next to his dad. So he had to try cover it up. Not to Eddie's luck hopper answers the door. "Eddie. Allen. Wayne." HE greets them letting them In. "Jim long time no see buddy." Als trying his charming munsin smile. But that won't work on Jim. He's seen it to many times.

"Evening Jim." Wayne greets shaking his hand. Hopper smiles and nods at Wayne. Wayne's the good munson out of all of them. You come walking from the living room into the doorway bit. Eddie's eyes immediately on you. Your wearing a short red dress that fits you right n shows all your curves. Some mascara. Fishnet tights and red heels that Eddie has seen you fall over in many times.

"Well well. This must be the famous y/n Eddie's told me so much about." Eddie's dad says to you. All you do is smile. You can see how uptight Eddie is. So you use your brain walk over to him grab his hand and walk him to the kitchen.

"You OK?" You ask him as soon as you enter your kitchen. He nods. "Liar." You say bluntly. All he does is wrap his arms around you. You wrap your arms around him going him three for a second. Letting him have some relief of everything.

The adults are making small talk in the living room. And your just holding your boy. Doing anything you can to calm him for even 30 seconds. "OK right. Let's go in there before I actually have a fucking break down" Eddie says laughing. You can tell its a forced laugh but you nod and take his hand and walk in the living room with him.

"There they are the happy couple!" Eddie's dad says as you enter the room. Eddie just nods and sits on the couch. You sit next to him still holding his hand. After 5 minutes his leg starts slowly bouncing again. "WHY you so anxious boy. Calm down. Your the one who wanted to date the chiefs daughter this was gonna hapoend sooner or later." Al says with a smile on his face.

Eddie gets up and mumbled the word bathroom before disappearing to the bathroom. "Excuse him Wayne's turned him into a real pussy while Ive been away. So Jim how's the job?" Al says still smiling. They all continue talking.

"Y/n if you don't mind us wondering who asked who out?" Jim askes you.

"Eddie asked me out." You say drinking some of your drink.

"Really didn't expect him to have the balls to actually ask a girl out. He was single for so long surprises me." Al says.

You look at Wayne who's just sat observing. Then to your dad who's talking to Al. Then at the bathroom where Eddie disappeared to. "I'm gonna go check on eds." You say quickly getting up so no one can stop u.

"Eddie babe you OK?" You ask knock on the door. No answer. You knock again and he unlocks the door. Walking in you see Eddie in a complete mess. "Oh babe." You say closing and locking the door.

He's stood twisting his rings. Leg shaking fast and looks drained. "I'm a fucking mess y/n I can't do this. My dad can't shut his mouth. Your dad already hates me. I'm fucked I'm fucking fucked." HE says putting his elbows on the sink and head in his hands.

You don't onow what to say. You want to help him. But you don't know how. "Eddie?" You says quietly. He looks at u and nods. I'm sorry." You say. Eddie stands up straight and looks you in the eyes sighing.

"NO. Ok no your not don't apologise like my dumbass dad said it was gonna happen. It's not your fault so don't apologise. I'm sorry I can't fucking handle myself. Babe I'm so fucking sorry. I'm trying I really am cause I love you and i-" he stops. You stare him in the eyes. Well he's never said that before.

"Y-you what?" You ask him softly. Eddie stares into space registering he actually said it. He smiles slightly n looks at you. "I fucking love you." Eddie says. The most confident he's been all morning

"I-i love you too." You smile slightly.

He walks over to your hugging you and kissing you. You kiss him back and wrap your arms around his neck. "Can't believe our first I love you was in your bathroom." Eddie chuckles dropping his head in your neck.

"Fuck it. Common were going back out there n imma fucking deal with it." Eddie says. He grabs your hand and walks out the bathroom to the living room. He sits on the couch. You go to sit next to him but he pulls your straight into his lap. It's like someone flipped a switch and all his cocky confidence was back.

"Look who's finally gonna join us. Remember your words now?" Al says tryna make Eddie feel small.

"Hmm let me think. Fuck you al. Oh yeah there back." HE says, looking his dad straight in the eyes with a grin across his face. That's your Eddie. Al sits there looking a bit taken back by his sins words. Wayne let's out a laugh along with your dad.

"What she do help you find your balls on there?" Al says to Eddie clearly trying to start something and make him look bad.

"If anyone needs there balls finding it's you. Atleast I'm not gonna run away at the end of tonight cause so many people in this town hate me. Nah imma deal with it." Eddie's grinning as he can tell he's getting to his dad.

"Watch it-" he tries to say but Eddie cuts him off. "Or what. We're at the chief of polices House. You. Can't. Do. Shit." Eddie says making his words clear. Your dad then looks at Al and nods agreeing with Eddie.

10 minutes later he's walking out the door. "Right let's start this evening again. Hi hop I'm Eddie munson I'm the prick dating your daughter. You already don't like me but I guarantee now u don't like me more. I'm probably gonna sneak in her window a few times so heads up. If she's gone late my bad it'll be my fault. If we ever get married her last name will be munson. I'll probably see you in the next week when you pull me over for speeding. Ive kissed her. Told her i love her. She said it back. Weve had sex. It was safe dont you worry. Oh and I smoke." Eddie says clapping his hands at the end. Your jaw drops.

Jim stares at him. "I hate and like you munson." HE finally says. Wayne let's out a loud laugh tour jaw still hung open. Eddie closes your mouth for you. "Careful babe you might eat a fly." HE winks.

"Who's for dinner?" Jim says getting up. "ME ill come help you serve Jim." Wayne says walking out the room eith your dad.

Eddie jumps on top of you as soon as there out of sight kissing your lips and neck. He pulls his head away and looks you in the eyes. "I DINT think I was scared about this I think it purely was my dad." HE says twiddling your hair. Your nod running your fingers through his hair. "Howd I do." HE askes looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

"I love you Eddie munson." You say. That's all the reassurance he needs. He cuddles into you letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I love you too... y/n munson."

#eddie m #eddie munson thoughts #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #rockstar eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie stranger things

76 notes · View notes

cowboydisaster · 2 years ago

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes

part II: blackwater i

originally posted on 22 february 2023

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 4k

summary: you start to settle in with the gang, making some friends and some enemies. As you acclimate to your new life, parts of you miss the freedom of solitude, while a new feeling drives you towards companionship.

a/n: chapter two is here! For those of you that missed the post, I will be updating this series with a new chapter every wednesday. I'm super proud of this one. Thanks to @margowritesthings for being my beta reader, biggest supporter, and my ride or die

SERIES MASTERPOST

"The hell did you buy in there anyway? A book?" You ask, trotting closer to Arthur and Boadicea to peek over his reins. There's a little leather bound book in his hands that he angrily stuffs into his satchel. You’ve both just left the general store in Blackwater after picking up some supplies for the good of the camp. You have no money, but Arthur had brought camp funds to purchase supplies for everyone. While in the store, he’d found a small leather bound book, and you’ve been thinking about it since you both left the store.

"Ain't none of your business lady, now let's get back." He huffs, spurring Boadicea into a canter past the old withering Blackwater church. The sound of hooves on dirt is loud as you push the horse, gripping tightly onto the saddle horn for extra stability.

"Well if it's none of my business, you shouldn't have bought it in front of me. That's on you." You counter, curious if Arthur even knows how to read, let alone enjoys it. You’ve only been with the gang for three and a half days, but in that time you’ve been able to observe the other gang members. Mostly, you’ve stuck to yourself, eating and working alone unless Ms. Grimshaw makes you work with the girls. But in that time, all you’ve seen Arthur do is physical labor, like chopping wood, going out on jobs, or planning with Dutch and Hosea. You had wrongfully assumed he’s the type of man who only entertains himself with liquor, women and fighting. Every day you seem to be proving yourself more and more wrong.

"I bought it in front of you because I have to take you with me. You're like a goddamn pet, take my eyes off ya for a second and you're starting something. Dutch didn’t want you causin’ trouble so he told me to keep an eye on ya."

Fury bubbles in your chest at the new information. This is about that big ugly bastard, what's his name. The past few days you've spent at their camp all he's done is sleep, drink and annoy everyone. He hasn't changed his sweat stained blue flannel since you've been there, and his big brown draft horse has never left the hitching post. He had made some rather crass comments about Arthur bringing you back and you punched him right in the face for it. Nearly knocked him on his ass. It got an amused chuckle out of Arthur, but the other gang members weren't too pleased about you strutting into their camp and starting fights. He started it, you just finished it. But of course you, the newcomer, are to blame and now you need a babysitter.

"Gonna keep an eye on me, that's it? What- you're gonna sleep next to my bedroll too? Make sure I don't go out and start beating up the folk, even the ones that need it?" You growl, irritated with Dutch for giving you a chaperone, and at Arthur for being the chaperone.

"If that's what it takes to keep that damn temper under control then, sure" Arthur laughs.

"I guess I'd rather go buyin' romance novels with you then sittin' back there with some of those fools." You bite, cantering towards the opening of the camp.

"I- dammit woman, it ain't a book. It's a journal. Lost my old one some months ago in a fire. I saw this one and I just picked it up..." He says.

You're utterly shocked. He journals? A new little layer of this big tough outlaw falls away and you can peek into the man inside. He goes around saving women in distress and writes about his feelings? Well shit.

"Never took you for a writer, Mr. Morgan, but it suits you well. Maybe one day you'll have to let me peek in there, see what goes on in that head a you-"

You stop in your tracks at the sound coming from camp. It's a rat-like voice with a greasy, nasty vocabulary. He's yelling, harassing someone for something. It's an unfamiliar voice and you spur the buckskin faster after Arthur to find the source. Arthur doesn’t look entirely alarmed, more annoyed, as if he knows the voice. When he sees the worry on your face, he’s quick to respond.

"That's Micah… you steer clear of him, alright?" He asks, to which you don't answer.

As your horses slow, stepping into the camp, you hop down from the saddle, tossing your reins over the hitching post and jog into the open area filled with tents.

"The hells goin' on now? You've been back five goddamn minutes and your stirrin' up a ruckus." Arthur calls out from beside you.

A medium height, blonde man with a nasty smile and pale blue eyes turns around, running his fingers over his thick mustache. His red shirt is stained with what you assume to be the beer that he reeks of. It has filled his stomach, giving him a drinker’s gut and painting his nose with red blotches. Just the sight of him has you backing up a few steps.

"Awe, didntcha' miss me, Morgan?" He asks sarcastically, holding his arms out in mock disbelief.

Arthur sports a deep scowl as he glares at Micah, stepping towards him. It's then that Micah notices you standing beside Arthur. You're much shorter than him, but you hold your chin up high, shoulders pushed back. Micah’s lips curl up in an eerie smile as he runs his eyes over your body.

"Well who might you be, madam?" Micah sneers. Pure anger and aggression pump through your veins as he slowly rakes his eyes over your figure. Then his eyes move around to the people in camp, lingering on Arthur's.

"She claimed? You Morgan's whore then? Say, you think he'll share you with me?" Micah laughs maniacally, bending back and resting his hands on his gun belt. His blonde hair is filthy, his teeth even more so, everything about this man repels you. He's a snake, a shifty rat and you can see it from a mile away.

"I ain't no one's whore." You squint, wishing to just take this bastard out and be done with it.

"Careful, Micah. She'll tear you a new one." Arthur warns, seemingly hoping that you will. God, he would love to watch you beat the shit out of Micah. He'd pay to.

Micah seems to be amused by this, laughing loudly and glancing around the camp to see if anyone heard Arthur. He doesn't believe for a fraction of a second that you could best him.

"I ain't afraid of an itty bitty lady," Micah steps forward, glancing down over you before shifting his eyes and addressing Arthur,

"She'd look real pretty on her knees for me, wouldn't she Ar-"

You knee him as hard as you can, right in the groin, causing him to bend at the waist and groan in pain.

"Y-You bitch!" He yells, right before you slip a pair of metal knuckles that were in your pocket over your fingers and punch him square in the cheekbone. The knuckles cut up his face, blood trickling down his cheek before he falls over, completely knocked out cold. You're a small woman, but with some little adjustments, you're stronger than the men. You slip the knuckles off, sliding them back into your pocket and tapping them for good measure.

"Tried to warn the bastard…" Arthur sighs, grabbing Micah by the feet and dragging him towards the outskirts of camp where he'll probably wake up later. You realize that you'd gained a bit of a crowd, blushing as you look around and see several pleased faces. You remember most of their names. The red haired Irishman, Sean steps over to you, proudly slapping you on the back with a huge grin.

"Ha! Ya knocked him right on his ass ‘tere! So much for an itty bitty lady, eh?"

A blonde haired woman, a little taller than you comes over with a big smile. She’s under the arm of a young gang member, you think Lennys his name.

“Well I’ll be damned! Hell yeah, It's good to see another badass woman around here, I was gettin’ tired of puttin’ all the boys in their place.” She laughs, pulling Lenny behind her and moving forward to hand you something. It's a five dollar bill, and you reach out to take it, confused.

“We had a bet that someone was gonna knock him out soon as he got back. Entertaining us with a show like that? You deserve it. I’d do anything to see that bastard get put down by a lady.”

You smile up at her, nodding to the stranger as you place the bill in your pocket.

“I'm Jenny by the way. Say, you're new as a shiny penny, figures these boys can't control themselves. Buncha assholes, especially Micah. He gets his fill of torture from all of us though, don't you worry miss." Jenny smiles at you, her blonde hair frames her freckled face beautifully.

"You wanna come officially meet the girls? We can get you set up, get you a tent and some new clothes. Figure you wanna get away from Mr. Morgan over there for the day, he's a sour bastard." Jenny yells the last part in Arthur’s direction so that he can hear.

“You’ll hear no argument from me on that account, ma'am.” Arthur quips, dropping Micah into the woods,

You eye Lenny and Jenny, a little unsure. It's hard for you to trust people, especially other outlaws but they seem kind enough. You turn your neck around to see Arthur, the only one you've really interacted with besides the two men you knocked out, and then you look back to Lenny and Jenny. They're both young and bright eyed, hopeful. It's a change you're grateful for, albeit not used to. What could be the harm?

"Alright then, the girls…" You whisper nervously. You've seen a few other women walking through the camp in the past four days, and they've eyed you with curiosity but none made a move to interact with you. You'll never show it but you're a bit nervous. You keep to yourself for the most part. You've had to because you have no one else. But that's changing.

You follow the two past a few tents, and to a wagon with a few boxes sitting around to be used as chairs. Wolf pelts and blankets are stacked into a makeshift bed on the ground under a hanging canvas. As you take in the little details of the camp, you don't miss the way Jenny and Lenny's hands intertwine, and you smile for it. It's apparent that someone has been through a lot of effort to make the camp homey. Fluffy pelts line the seats and chairs, beautifully decorated animal skulls top some of the tents and each person’s designated area is filled with their personal preferences and belongings. Pictures and books line the little tables and crates around the place and boxes of beer and whiskey as well. It really is a home.

There's a wagon with canvas material making a little lean to, and under it sit three girls. The first one to notice you has short blonde hair and a contagious smile. There's wonder in her eyes, and optimism.

"Well hi! We was wonderin' when we'd get to meet you, we could barely hold back from goin' over there but we didn't wanna push ya! Say, you’ve been here just four days and you’ve already knocked down the two biggest bastards here. First Bill and now Micah? I like you already!" The blonde haired girl says before adding, "Oh, I'm Karen by the way. And this is Marybeth and Tilly.” She adds, pointing towards the other girls who smile and wave coyly. The girl furthest from you with dark colored skin and braided hair that collects into a low bun, Tilly, speaks up.

“Don’t be shy, we don’t bite. Well Karen does, but only when Ms. Grimshaw comes around. Doesn’t seem like you’ll be dealing much with her though. You gonna run with the men like Jenny here?” Tilly asks, nodding towards Jenny. You notice the contrast in their attire. Tilly, Marybeth and Karen are wearing dresses, apparently you and Jenny are the only two women who work out of camp. You haven't thought much about what your role will be in the camp though.

“Uh, yeah I guess I will be. I haven’t thought about it much though, just gettin’ here and all…And I’m only stayin’ till I'm back on my feet, so I’ll do whatever needs done till I get enough money to head somewhere else.” You mumble, looking down to your raggedy clothes. The girls grow a little quiet, sensing your dilemma before Jenny speaks up.

“Well for now, you’re stuck with us! C’mon, we’ll get you some new clothes and have Ms. Grimshaw set you up a tent. I assume you’ll want a tent by Arthur, y’know with him bringing you in and all.”

— —

By nightfall you have three new pairs of jeans, two black and one blue, four new shirts, dark green, white, black and red, and a brand new pair of boots. They’ve accommodated you well, and you try not to think about your growing debt to the gang.

Your tent is nicer than anything you’ve had for a long while. It's a white canvas ‘A frame’ tent with a nice sized cot, a wardrobe and a nightstand. The girls have given you some blankets and items to decorate around the place and it looks good, it’s rather cozy. Currently you sit cross legged on the cot, writing in your journal. The soft glow of candlelight alongside the campfires outside provide enough light for you to write without straining your eyes. It's a beautiful night, and owls hoot as warm wind blows across the Great Plains, it's a perfect moment.

It’s the fourth day I've been here, but today was different. I met Jenny, and she introduced me to a few others. She’s a lot like me. Jenny doesn’t follow the rules, she makes her own way. I admire her for that. And Arthur? Well, I haven't seen much of him. He’s been working on some big job with Dutch, and they’re keeping it real quiet. Oh, and he journals too, he picked one up in town today. Never thought a man such as himself would take to journaling. There’s a heart in there somewhere, deep down as it may be. I guess he’s like me in that way…

You startle at the sound of a knock against the beam of your tent. You jump a little, reaching down to your holster before you realize it’s only Arthur.

“Shit, sorry. You scared the hell outta me. Ain’t used to livin’ with other people.” You laugh, folding your journal shut and tucking your pen into the book’s spine. Arthur is leaning against the tent beam with two bowls in hand, it looks like he’s washed up, probably in the lake or the river, but he's wearing a clean black stand collar shirt and a new pair of jeans. His wet hair drips a little, and the smell of soap travels to your nose.

“You’ll get used to it. Here, I brought ya some dysentery.” Arthur jokes, holding out a bowl of Pearson’s stew to you. You take it, grateful for it even though it tastes awful.

“Thanks. Here, come sit, keep me company.” You scooch to the other side of your cot, once again sitting cross legged.

“Well I ain’t no good company miss, I can promise you that, but sure.”

Arthur sits down on the cot, and it dips under his weight. He watches you out of the corner of his eye for a moment, then glances at your book while you both eat.

“So what were you writin’ in that book a’ yours?” Arthur asks, nodding towards your leather journal.

You crack a smile, prodding at the mushy soup with your spoon.

“You really wanna know? I'll show you mine, but you gotta show me what's in yours.” You offer with a raised eyebrow. Arthur’s cheeks glow a little red and he scratches at the back of his neck.

“Well I just got it today, and I ain’t put much in it yet.” Arthur says a little awkwardly. You take note of his embarrassment, and make a mental note to peek the next time he has it out.

“So how's it been so far? The camp I mean. Everyone treatin’ you well? I'm sure you’ll give ‘em hell if they don’t.” Arthur asks, looking to you, before bringing the metal bowl up to his lips and drinking down the broth left over in the bowl. You can’t help the smile that brightens up your features while you nod.

“It’s been good. Jenny’s real nice, I like her a lot. All the girls are kind too. I ain’t talked to much of anyone else, well besides Micah, is he alright by the way?” You ask, hoping you didn’t kill him. You don’t really care if the bastard is dead or not, but killing him on your fourth day in the gang would not help your chances of getting along with Dutch.

“I think he left for a while, didn’t wanna come back and be the camp idiot for gettin’ beat up by a little lady-” He starts before you interject.

“I ain’t a little lady.” You bite. Arthur chuckles, putting his hands up in mock surrender. He disagrees, you are a little lady, but he also wants to keep his head.

“Whatever you say, miss. I'm partial to keepin’ your fists far away from this old mug,'' Arthur's smile falters for a moment, and he looks over to you with sincerity, “but I'm glad to hear you’re settlin’ in alright.”

You nod, unsure of how to respond as you extend your arm to place the empty stew bowl on your nightstand. Arthur takes it out of your hand instead, standing up and stacking your dishes on top of his own.

“Well I’ll leave you to it, I don’t wanna take up anymore of your time,” He tips his head to you, “Goodnight miss.”

“G’night Arthur.” You watch his back as he leaves your tent and returns your dishes back to Pearson’s table.

You think of him as you dress down and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a long time since you’ve enjoyed someone’s company. He intrigues you. There's so many layers to Arthur Morgan, and you find yourself wanting to peel them back and discover the man at heart. You toss and turn in your bed, angrily fluffing your pillow and tearing your blankets off of your bare legs just to pull them back on again. Despite the new bed, and the tent, you find yourself longing for the freedom of the grass, you miss the stars.

With a sigh, you reach down onto the grass below your bed and grab your boots. You swing your legs over the edge and pull them on, not bothering to dress yourself half decent. The shirt you’re wearing is a man’s, it's huge on you, but Jenny figured it would make a good night shirt. The white shirt swallows your figure as you step out of your tent and into the night. Everyone has gone to bed already as you tiptoe to the outskirts of camp. There's a dark forest at the edge, and maybe it's your exhaustion, but you find it enticing. You walk through the grass, wishing that you could feel it on your feet. It’s only been four days, but dammit, you miss the freedom. Solitude can be a beautiful thing, you’ve found out. And even though you’re glad to have been saved by the gang, parts of you ache to return to the wilderness.

You slip your cowboy boots off, abandoning them on the ground between you and Arthur’s tent. They slump to the ground, spurs clicking as they hit the floor, and you step into the trees.

You pick wildflowers, humming and singing to yourself as you pluck their stems from the earth and add them to your collection. The breeze is warm and it flutters through your hair. A few times you feel eyes on you, but you dismiss them as animals lurking in the night. Some find the woods as eerie and unknown, but they’ve always been your home. You make a little bouquet of wildflowers, they're all different colors and sizes, and you hold them up to your nose and inhale that deep, specific scent. Lastly, you lay back on the grass, holding the flowers in your hands and look up to the stars.

“A coach and six white horses,”

You twirl a poppy between your fingers, bringing it up to your nose before you continue singing,

“Blacks and bays, dapples, and grays,”

You bring your knees up, crossing your legs as your hair splays out in the grass.

“All the pretty little horses…”

You’ve always been on your own, and this will be hard. Acclimating to a new place, with new people, and handing your control over to a new leader, all of it has you nervous, uneasy. You’re not sure how long you’ll stay. A part of you, the part that led you into the forest, begs for your freedom back. And yet a new feeling piques your interest as well, and it scares you. You look up at the constellations, tracing the big dipper with your eyes and grounding yourself with the familiarity. This new pull… it’s dangerous. You’ve distanced yourself from others for a reason, and yet here you are, breaking all of your rules.

—

Arthur’s eyebrows draw together as he leans up on his elbows in his cot. He’s been unable to sleep tonight, too distracted with the Blackwater job, and with you to get some shut eye. He’s stirred up by some quiet click noises, followed by some shallow singing. The song reaches his ears and immediately he recognizes it. It's “All the Pretty Little Horses,” a lullaby his momma used to sing to him when he was a kid. There’s some emotion there that he pushes down, sitting up to peek out of the open tent.

And there you are.

Arthur's smile is bittersweet as he watches you, laying in the grass in nothing but a goddamn shirt. Because of course you're the type to pick flowers, barefoot in the dead of night. Of course you’re the type to sing to the stars. He chuckles to himself, and doesn’t even think about it as he grabs his empty journal that he’d bought in the morning. He rests the leather book against his knee, leaning over to grab his pencil off his nightstand. As he does so, his eyes collide with the framed picture of Mary. Arthur sighs, gently grabbing the corner of the frame and tipping it so the picture lays face down.

“Long time ago now…” Arthur whispers, lingering over the photo for a moment before grabbing his pencil.

He doesn’t think, he just draws, starting with your legs that are crossed over each other, your torso and the flowers in your hand, and then your face and hair as you look up to the stars. He hums along lowly with your singing as he finishes up his sketch. There’s an incredible amount of detail to the picture, and he tries not to think about why that is as he adds a note to his sketch.

She’s a lot like the stars in a way, I’ve realized. A force, fiery and burning as a flame, not to be reckoned with. She’s got no ties, she’s on her own. And yet she’s kind, singing and picking flowers in the middle of the damn night. She's something else, that woman.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic

200 notes · View notes

questforgalas · 2 years ago

Text

My thoughts on TBB Season 2 finale

It's a long one so strap in if you enter

First, before I get started, I wanted to say that this has been such a fun season to watch, and the interactions I've had with everyone in this fandom has made my Wednesday and weeks since January so delightful. I know hiatuses see a lull in activity, and some people are going to need to step away for a bit, but I just wanted to say thanks for being such a warm and open environment (at least the little corner I've found myself in). Here's to fingers crossed that the panel at Star Wars celebration in just a couple weeks brings us confirming great news!

Love ya all. Mama Tay is here with blankets and ice cream for the Tech babes if you need it. My man is unconscious on a torture table and my babygirl is a captive so we can all cry into the containers together

I'm able to watch the episodes at 8am EST every week, it's my little weekly routine I look forward to, so I've had a couple hours to process my one watch through of the finale episodes, and, just, wow.

Warning, "The Breaking of the Fellowship" just started playing on my playlist so who knows where this is about to go lol. Let's go to feelings town

The Bad Batch Season 2

I have not been quiet about how much I love season 2. Out of 16 episodes, there are maybe 2 that could be written off, but put them anywhere in season 1 or any TCW season, and they'd be some of the best episodes, which only adds to how well written and well done this season was.

I'm a Crosshair girl, not just in a "heart eyes spindly toothpick" sort of way, in fact that really didn't develop until halfway through season 1 - which my therapist definitely doesn't need to analyze - but his personality and his subtle devotion to his squad sucked me in from the beginning. So even with how little we had of him this season (granted, what we did get was some of the best television I've ever watched), this season is up there for me.

The character development for all batchers but especially Omega, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair was intriguing and dynamic, and that's not to say Hunter and Wrecker didn't have their moments either. They did, they were just much more subtle. We saw a lot more of Hunter's enhanced senses at play and Wrecker's knowledge, not just fascination, of explosives, but that pales in comparison to the other four.

The universe expansion was everything to me. We don't have anything depicting the rise of the Empire. We've never seen it's take over and the effects that rippled across the galaxy. We've only ever seen the afterwards, so to get this eery and terrifying depiction is exactly how I'd expect the galaxy to feel during that time, and I really applaud the creators on being so detailed with it.

The Finale Episodes

Wow. Just, wow. Admittedly, I had two reactions to these episodes.

The first was as the Crosshair fan who's put a lot of my emotional stability on this group of animated misfits, and that reaction hated these episodes. Not because I didn't think they were done well (getting into that in a second) but because I latched onto the Bad Batch's dynamics as a family since TCW and I so deeply in my soul to the point it's almost a wound in my heart want them back together again. I fell in love with the TCW Bad Batch, and I want that dynamic back so I've been rooting for it since "Aftermath", and every time we were given crumbs of a possibility that could happen this season, I devoured them and clutched onto them like they were my lifeline. So yes, from that perspective I hated these episodes.

Now, from the Star Wars fan taking a step back from my fanon - holy freaking shit. I laughed. I cried. I sobbed. I oooo'd. I cheered. When they stopped "The Summit" in the middle of the action, similar to how they broke up "Spoils of War" and "Ruins of War", it hit me that we weren't getting the reunion I desperately hoped for, and I took a minute to grieve that, went into acceptance, and then dove into "Plan 99".

Again, were there points throughout both, especially "Plan 99", that I was going "oh I hope this happens" or "ok annnnnd now!"? Yeah, absolutely (cut to Omega waking up at Cid's and me going "nice this is when they reveal it was all a bad dream and Tech's gonna walk in in 3..2..1..."). Did I have 4 other endings in my head halfway through the episode? 1000%. But it's not my creation, and based off of what we were given all of season 2, it all made sense to me. Even the things that made me have to pause for 4 minutes while I sobbed into my hands.

We are set up for an extremely action packed, spy/political thriller filled, intriguing season 3, and that wouldn't have happened if the season didn't end the way it did. If it was all tied up neatly in a bow, then there would be a lot more doubt, in my mind, about 1. if we'd even get a season 3 and 2. what the heck it was going to be about.

I'm not going to get into individual character analyses, but I thought everyone was in character. There was not a moment in either episode I thought "huh that doesn't really fit does it?" All of them were on brand in my opinion, and I again encourage people to take a step back and separate fanon from canon.

So why the emotional impact?

One of the things I've really had to process and think through is why this finale was staying with me like it is. I mean, I've been a Star Wars fan since 1999. I lived through watching Revenge of the Sith in theaters. I, like many of us, watched "Victory and Death" at the beginning of a very dark time in the world. I gripped the edge of my theatre seat watching Rogue One, praying they made it out like I hadn't known the end of their story for 25 years. But none of those endings stayed with me the way TBB finale is.

Sometimes something stays with me for an hour, maybe more, but I've never had any show have a finale where throughout the day as I thought about it, I burst into tears in varying degrees, and I can feel that being the case for awhile. Honestly, I haven't put my finger fully on it yet, but I think one of the reasons why is because all of those other endings I mentioned above - ROTS, Rogue One, TCW - and really any Star Wars media so far, has not had such a sorrow filled ending in such a dark period of time without us knowing the story after already.

ROTS we knew the outcome of that 20 years before. Rogue One even longer. TCW was filling in the gaps of a story long concluded. The Mandalorian is set in a time when it's supposed to be peaceful and the galaxy is mostly living in the light, so even when Mando and Grogu are separated, it's sad to witness the pair be apart, but there's no umbrella threat that makes the separation dangerous.

We are in the darkest period of time that we as Star Wars fans know in TBB. That is the point of the series - it's not just about these clones and how they cope post war. It's we the fans seeing how terrifying the Empire is beyond just the two sith lords running it. The inner workings and how easily they squash hope within their own government. We as the fans are meant to watch the Batch and love the family but be terrified of what can be waiting for them around every corner.

And that's not to mention we have no idea what the fate of the clones is. First off, the events of A New Hope are 20 years away. Rebels and the Obi-Wan Kenobi show are the only medias we have depicting the time between ROTS and ANH, and they barely scratch the surface. Rex is canonically confirmed to survive to Return of the Jedi, and we have Gregor and Wolffe in Rebels, but where the heck are the rest of them. We don't know. We literally don't know, and we're now left to speculate what that could possibly entail for the clones (especially the Batch) on any given day, let alone when we're left with two of them as captives of the Empire and one "dead". It is, in my opinion, one of the most devastating endings to a Star Wars media because of the terror it can hold.

Tech's Fall

Why yes, this would be the part I had to pause the show for and sob over for 4 minutes.

Tech has been my second favorite member of the Batch since they were introduced in TCW. This unapologetic, enthusiastic nerd who knows what he likes and hyperfixates on it spoke to me on levels, as I know he did for many of you - especially after "The Crossing" (I personally cannot relate to the ND connection, but was really happy to see the community joyous over the moment).

I, like many of you have already said in your thought posts, had the growing pit in my stomach each time they developed his character. The constant-optimist in me latched onto the possibility that just once they wouldn't pull that shit on us, but obviously that wasn't the case.

Tech and Crosshair's sacrifices punch me in the gut. Both of them are to save their family and give their family a chance. To have Wrecker and Tech bicker back and forth even up to the last minute like brothers do, and then the fucking awful shot of Wrecker watching his brother fall knowing he did it so they could have a chance. As a sibling, I couldn't handle it (I've actually started crying again now writing this). If I was Tech and that was my family, I'd do the same thing. If I was Wrecker watching that in front of me, I'd be on my knees screaming.

The scene was shot chaotically to make us, the viewer, feel panic and feel the gravity of the situation the Batch was in while seeing tiny moments when maybe they could pull it off, maybe Tech is moving faster than we think, maybe the car will come online and speed away, all to keep us hanging on while feeling the pressure of the environment they were in to then watch the fall and feel anything but relief, just like the Batch.

Now, onto what's keeping me hanging on

Is Tech Dead?

No, and I'm blaming Echo for this, but I do not think he's dead. And I do not think that takes away from his sacrifice either.

First of all, this is Star Wars. Unless you see the body, they ain't dead. @jealous-sloth77 even made the point of Darth Maul in their thought post. My dude was cut in half and fell down a supposed never ending shaft, but came back with the v-neck of all v-necks and a 200 step revenge plan, then literally became the cockroach of Star Wars.

Let alone the direct parallels to Echo Tech's fate could have.

So stay with me on this for a second, and I may be giving Filoni and Corbett and Rau a little more credit than they deserve, but follow me here.

Echo's blown up at the citadel in Season 3 of TCW. Not season 6 and then reappears a season later. 4 seasons of separation, and given the cancellations and renewal breaks, you're talking literally 10 years in between his death and his revival, which narratively makes no sense to me. And don't get me wrong, I know the Dominos were a fan favorite and Fives and Echo were a fun pairing, but all in all, Echo appeared in five episodes? Maybe six before he's killed off? And only 3 of those was he a "main" character. Compared to many other clones and characters, that's not exactly a recipe for "bring the fan favorite back 10 years later". So that makes me think that Echo coming back, especially the way he did, was setting the ground work for something. Now hang with me here.

In Mando S2E1, Mando kills the Krayt dragon by going inside of it, a monster who's stomach is literally full of acid, and blows it up from the inside out, dramatically coming out pointedly covered in the krayt acid showing that it has no affect on beskar. Then 2 minutes later we get the cameo of Boba Fett in the sunset, a character who last we saw was swallowed by a monster, supposedly digesting in stomach acid. Then in Book of Boba Fett, we see that because of his beskar armor, he survived the sarlacc, etc, etc. My point is, Star Wars has recently developed a habit of setting long-con explanations in various medias. Planting the seed you could say. So it's not far fetched to theorize that they brought Echo back from a ship explosion that we were made to think nothing but his helmet survived so they could set the ground work for other characters to be dramatically saved/scavenged and "brought back to life".

I mean, this is the world of Palpatine clones so, it's not out there.

That's not to mention the scene of Hemlock bringing Tech's goggles to Ord Mantell and making a point of mocking his death in front of them. Hemlock's entire purpose is to unlock the cloning techniques of the Kaminoans, and suddenly the literal genius is separated from them, assumed dead. If I'm an evil-scientist like Hemlock, I'm figuring out anyway to make sure Tech's alive.

So yes that's a long-stretch plan that gives Corbett, Filoni, and Rau a lot of credit for potentially thinking multiple seasons of plot lines through at the beginning, which, honestly, would be a good strategy considering the time period they're navigating around so I don't think it's that crazy to consider.

However, the main fact that I'm latching onto that Tech's not dead is the same fact that I've latched onto ever since "Aftermath" to tell myself Crosshair will be back with the Batch someday, and that's because it narratively makes no sense in context to how the Batch were introduced to us to keep them separated.

Think back to TCW S7, when the Batch are introduced. That was 4 episodes highlighting a tight knit, unique, family unit who all complimented each other to round out an unbeatable unit. Their sibling dynamic was the main focus of that group and is what made me fall in love with them, and it made no sense to me that they separated that dynamic within the first 10 minutes of the first episode and now to further separate it by taking Tech away.

I feel this so strongly in regards to Crosshair and Tech. I was sad when Echo left, and I was confident he was going to be with them again, but his departure didn't hit me the same way as Crosshair's and now Tech's. It just does not make sense to me to have the OG 4 separated permanently given how they were presented to us. It would be one thing if they went all in on the "Crosshair's evil" route and semi bait-and-switched us, but given his evident loyalty to the Batch and clear, long path of him being back with them someday, it really would not make sense to me for them to "swap one out for the other". That, in my opinion, would be lazy writing, and with how much love and care the creators have shown this series, I cannot fathom them throwing in the towel like that.

Unfortunately until the new season, I'll sadly have to accept the fact that he is gone and in our eyes right now, he's dead. And that hurts. It really does, but boy, am I grasping onto this last analysis like it's my tether over Mustafar

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch spoilers #hunter #wrecker #crosshair #tech #echo #omega #the bad batch echo #the bad batch tech #the bad batch wrecker #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch omega #tbb spoilers #tbb positivity #the bad batch positivity

120 notes · View notes

misc-obeyme · 6 months ago

Note

i feel so validated and supported rn, omggg thank youuu <3 😭 ALSO YAY SOLOMAMS TRAIN!! I'M FILLED WITH IDEAS AND KEPT DAYDREAMING SCENARIOS AT WORK TODAY- I HAVE A NOTES APP SPECIFICALLY FOR THIS AU. I'd love to write it, I'm just afraid I wouldn't do my faves justice or know how to format it. Maybe interconnected drabbles?

i need to research the workings of cafes, and how food is served, because Mammon runs this place on his own. I like the idea of Mammon prepping sandwiches in the morning for the day, and waking up early to bake the pastries. There's also a "pipsqueak special" (named by Mammon, of course) every 1st and 3rd Monday of the month where there's limited cake that Luke baked over the weekend. All profits from his cakes go towards his college fund (Mammon adds extra money to his earnings without telling him).

AHAH, SPEAKING OF ME AND SOLOMON COMING IN AT THE SAME TIME... I have IDEAS. (literally inspired by my crazy day the other day)

Solomon who comes in ten minutes after opening (7:30 am?), on a Wednesday, to cram for an exam. Mammon is immediately pinching himself, his routine is off, he's not prepared and stumbles over his words. Solomon orders two coffees, no danish, and settles in. Mammon feels like the world is ending.

Two hours later, Mammon gets a text that I woke up early again (am on a three day streak) and am coming in for my usual. He knew that the record shop was going to be closed Wednesday-Friday for inventory and cleaning (he knew the shop would be closed, not because he stalks the social media page or anything in an attempt to work up the courage to visit. That would be crazyy).

He starts prepping the order, because I always show up around 24 minutes after I send it. It's routine. But now it's been 40 minutes, my drink is melting, my sandwich is cold, and Mammon feels like the world is ending once more. Solomon has not moved an inch in all this time (except to flip the page of his notes/textbook), and Mammon's eye twitches as he starts fixing up a sandwich, trying to convince himself he is NOT worried about the man. "Mammon? I didn't order a sandwich." "Yeah but ya haven't moved an inch except to flip the page of that damn notebook since you ordered your first two cups and I'm wor- I-I mean, it looks bad for business! It's been two hours, idiot." "And it's not bad business to call your customers idiots? *signature teasing Solomon smile*" "Tch. My customers enjoy the food too much to complain. They know what they signed up for, and that's what they come here for." "The food isn't the only thing they come here for." "Eh?" "Nothing. Ahaha, nothing at all."

Another twenty minutes pass, five after Solomon got his free sandwich. I finally show up out of breath, rambling about how the bus was late, then it broke down, the next one was cancelled, and I decided to walk the rest of the way. I practically collapse into a bar seat, while asking if I can still have my usual, but for here instead. Mammon short circuits, since I always take my food to go since I immediately head over to my shop once I grab my order. And I'm staring at him with my head tilted, up close for once and blinking curiously at him. And wow, my lashes are so long, and are my eyes really that dark? He notices there's gold eyeshadow on my waterline, and why am I waving my hand in front of his face- HOW LONG HAS HE BEEN STARING?! "Earth to Mams?" "*voice crack* Y-Yeah? *Coughs* I'll uh...have your usual out in a sec." 'Wait... Did she just call me Mams?' 'Oh god, I just called him Mams, what if he doesn't like that. Wait, he didn't say anything so maybe he didn't notice?? I gotta act natural. *ears are currently the brightest shade of red ever*'

Mammon feels like the world is ending again for the- He's lost count of how many times he's felt like this today (third times the charm).

And now Solomon has noticed me, coming up to make small talk. Mammon has his back turned for one second to start prepping the drink, and suddenly Solomon has moved his work and food to the bar, right next to me, planning to join me and eat together. A little break from studying should be good, right?

Mammon feels like the world is against him. The two regulars he serves who both make him feel lightheaded for different reasons, who he knows their orders like the back of his hand, but only snippets of their lives, are sitting right in front of him and giggling together like old friends. His heart is in overdrive. He's stuck behind the counter. They're both smiling at him. God help him. (tbc! ..maybe LMAO)

okayokay, hope everyone enjoyed my ramblings. this came out longer than I meant it to, as always </3

- ✨ anon

Okay, now, listen here. I am here to tell you that you will absolutely do it justice. You already have. I can tell by the amount of thought you've put into all the scenes you've described for me so far. You've practically half written it all already!

As for format, interconnected drabbles are the same thing as a full story. Well, for me, drabbles are very short almost summaries, more poetry than anything. But some of them are a little longer and more like scenes. All my fics that are either drabbles or ficlets are a single scene. When you interconnect them, they become a story. Whether you call that a fic or a short story or perhaps it even ends up closer to novella length, that just depends on you.

Stories are structured around scenes. For instance, you might write a scene where Mammon sees Solomon coming in to the cafe, only ordering two coffees and no danish, freaking out. Then your next scene is what happens two hours later, when he gets the text from you that starts the whole next part of the action. You can also change scenes every time you change viewpoint. For instance, if you were going to write a version of the first scene from Solomon's perspective.

WELL anyway, not to get all technical about writing stuff with you here lol. It's just something I like to talk about. I guess my point is that if you do want to write it, don't worry about not doing it justice or the format of it. The first thing never really goes away, so you gotta learn to write despite it. And the second thing will usually just resolve itself as you go!

Anyway, I'm loving this story about the three of you and I absolutely want to know what happens next. I love the image of both you and Solomon sitting at the bar smiling at Mammon who's busy having a meltdown about it. Absolutely amazing, it's like you're unknowingly ganging up on him and he can't take it lol. Do you somehow end up as Solomon's apprentice in this au? Or like learning something from him? Or is it just the crossing of paths continually at the coffee shop? Does Mammon ever confess to either of you??? I have to know how this resolves itself! As long as they all end up together, I'll be happy lol!

#tell me more I'm seriously hooked #it sounds so sweet the way you all interact with each other #two tsunderes and one confident guy who is probably the only reason anything happens at all lol #obey me #obey me solomon #obey me mammon #✨ anon #misc answers

13 notes · View notes

inafieldofdaisies · 2 years ago

Text

WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @euryalex @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @trench-rot 🤍 | Tagging @poisonedtruth @adelaidedrubman @shegetsburned @g0dspeeed @nightbloodraelle @nightwingshero @madparadoxum @aceghosts @jacobsneed @jinfromyarikawa @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @purplehairsecretlair @detectivelokis @vampireninjabunnies-blog @strangefable @strafethesesinners @sstewyhosseini and anyone with something to share <3

I present you another snippet from Chapter 8 where we finally get to meet some new OCs that are set on catching John and becoming heroes. Enter Charlie "The Menace" Morgan...

The Spread Eagle was empty when Calahan entered, his day had started at 5 am with a couple of Peggies stumbling across his camp and ruining his chance at getting some rest. "You've been marked, Sinner! John is coming to get ya-", was the last thing their leader had said before Hartley sent him to meet his beloved maker. And since then, his day was going just peachy. He needed a drink, or more like five. No rest for the wicked. Or do I say the "Sinner"? "Rookie, the usual?", Mary May shot him a smile from behind the bar. "Why is it so quiet, gorgeous?" Seeing a friendly face was already brightening his mood. "Take a guess." "What do I win if I guess right?", his wink made Mary May roll her eyes. Her reaction caused him to think of Sabrina and how she never took his charm too seriously either. Where the fuck are you, Gray? Who has you? He couldn't go 5 minutes without thinking about all the people close to him that the Seeds had captured few days back. It made him restless, angry, ready to lash out on any Peggie that crossed his path. "First drink's on me." Calahan gave her his best "I'm so lost in deep thought" face, the same one he used anytime Whitehorse lectured him on how he should be behaving as a Deputy. "I'd say-"

The sound of the bell cut him off as the doors to the bar opened and three Resistance members walked in, involved in what seemed like a very heated discussion. "Mary May, drinks, darlin', we bear good news!", the oldest of the trio chimed in. The voice belonged to Charlie Morgan, a man in his late 30s, with short dark hair and beard, shifty pale eyes and neck tattoos. "Rookie! Just the man we need!", he shouted before slapping Calahan on the back with unnecessary force. Hartley was already over the interaction, dreading whatever he and his buddies had come up with. Back in the days before the Reaping he wouldn't have been caught dead interacting with Charlie, but as Dutch had said they needed any assistance they could get. He only wished the helping hand in question was better at their tasks and didn't spend half the day drinking at The Spread Eagle, calling it "work for the cause". The sooner I get Hudson out and track Gray down, the quicker we'd make actual progress and rescue the others. "What is it now, Charlie?" "Deputy, we have him!", it wasn't Morgan that responded but a teen that couldn't have been older than 17, an unfamiliar face to Hartley. "Have who? And you are?" "Justin Harker. My ma and I moved in here few months back, may she rest in peace.", he offered his hand to Hartley, which he shook, then added in a whisper, "We've got intel on John Seed!" Charlie sat down in the chair next to Calahan's, downing the glass Mary May had produced in front of him. "Bastard's running a leaky operation, Rookie. Heard from a source he's left that bunker of his on his own. But it gets better… in less than an hour he will be headed to his ranch." Hartley shook his head, "Sounds too good to be true, Morgan. You sure you didn't dream that up?" "Deputy, it's true. We're going there, thought to stop to ask you to joins us for the ambush.", Harker couldn't contain his excitement. "We're capturing that bastard and making him suffer today.", Charlie let out a maniacal laughter at which Mary May slapped her palm on the bar, giving him a pointed look. "Keep it down. I'm running a business here. First and last warning, and you're gonna be making your own booze in your toilet." "Sorry, darlin'." The third guy remained silent, Hartley knew his face but for the life of him couldn't remember his name. "So you coming, or not, Rookie?" Calahan sighed, his head was already throbbing enough, and Morgan's presence wasn't helping. "No, I'm exhausted. I doubt this is going to pan out, boys. No offense, but you're miles away from being a capture party. Best case scenario, some Peggie is fucking with you and sending you on a wild goose chase… Worst, well… you'd be captured and meet John face to face, but in his bunker." "Rookie, are you afraid?", Charlie chuckled. "You heard anything from what I just said, you asshole?" "Now, now, let's all calm down.", third guy broke his silence, waving his arms around. "We're going, Rookie. And you can sit on your ass and be afraid all you want. I'm catching that bastard that carved my chest and carving his face as payback today. Let see then how well his broadcasts perform after I'm done with him."

Charlie downed his second drink and stormed out without a look back, followed by Mr. "Calm". Hartley grabbed Harker's arm as he went to leave, too. "Kid, if you know what's best for you, don't go anywhere with Charlie Morgan." The teen shook his head, "It's fine, Deputy, I made a promise at my ma's grave, I plan on honoring it." "You know which channel to call if you get anything?" "Yes, Deputy. I will be sure to keep you posted." With that he left, heading outside to join the others. "God, I hate Charlie.", Mary May groaned. "Then why serve him, gorgeous?" "Can't be picky in these times, now can I? As long as he pays… but I'm getting close to banning him indefinitely." Calahan rested his head on the bar. "You really not going to go with them?", Mary May nodded towards the now closed door, "There's still time." "Nah. I'm good. Don't believe John Seed would just offer himself on a silver platter like that." "Well, in that case, why don't you head upstairs, catch some sleep on the couch? Didn't plan to say it, but you look like shit.", Mary May smiled. "Don't I know it. Sleep avoids me like an ex-girlfriend these days." "You still worried about Sabrina?" "No news, absolutely nothing. It's bizarre." "I'm sure something will turn up." "Thanks, gorgeous." Hartley took a final sip of his drink and climbed upstairs, ready to get some needed rest before he'd have to head back out.

John drove in silence, his eyes glued to the road while he felt like he was on autopilot as the last few hours replayed in his mind. His emotions were all over the place: from how the morning started with yet another close encounter with Sabrina through the decision to take her to the ranch to holding her lingerie in his hand as he imagined peeling it off her body. Bad idea. He had no clue what had possessed him to do it and she seemed just as shocked. He needed to put as much distance between them as soon as possible, if he was to come back to his old self and focus on his tasks. Then there was Savannah and her genuine excitement at his presence and their "trip". He knew he had made the right decision the second she told him she's not afraid of him even if he's a "Peggie". He didn't want to imagine those big green eyes fill with fear at the sight of him. Ever. "You doing okay there, Seed?", Sabrina whispered after a while, amusement seeping into her tone. John nodded, gripping the steering wheel, "Just thinking, going over my schedule." A complete lie… but he doubted she'd appreciate the truth, especially spoken out loud in front of her sister. He took his eyes off the road for a second to sneak a look at Sabrina just in time to see her faint smile vanish completely off her face. Her hand shot out to his knee, his name coming out in a panicked whisper, making him look back ahead. The road they were on wasn't empty as it was before, instead a car and an armed man stood blocking their path as the truck came to an abrupt stop. John looked in the rearview mirror, contemplating driving back the way they came from but two more men had popped out from hiding, headed for the truck with determination. The Resistance.

"Who are these people? Are they Peggies? They don't look like it.", Savannah spoke up, her face twisted in confusion. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding, pumpkin.", Sabrina responded just as one of the Sinners shouted, his voice carrying through their open windows, "Out, Seed, don't think of doing anything funny. There's no need for anyone else to get hurt." "John-" "Rin-Rin, what's happening?", panic was taking over Savannah's voice. One of the men was by the driver's door then, rifle trained, ready to haul John out of the truck by force. "It's okay, Savi." He leaned in, wondering if he's smelling Sabrina's scent for the last time as he whispered in her ear, "There's a gun in the glovebox, the Bliss bullets are non-lethal but they will slow them down, do what you must to protect Savannah." Then he turned to the Sinner, calling out, "I'm coming out. There's a child in the car." "John, this is a bad idea." He knew as much, but the alternative presented just as much danger. "It's not my time yet, Deputy. Don't worry." He opened the door, climbing out with one last look at Sabrina, knowing chances were she'd drive away now that the road behind them was clear and leave him to face Judgement at the hands of the Resistance. She owed him nothing, especially not when her sister was in danger. "Walk, Seed.", the Sinner gritted out, his rifle poking John in the back, urging him on. As they neared the lone gunman, he raised his hands, "I'm unarmed, let the others go." He wasn't exactly unarmed, he still had Sabrina's knife, though using it would be a gamble with his own life. "You're not in charge here, you bastard.", came out the familiar voice of Charlie Morgan, his dead gray eyes narrowed with a look of hatred, hinting at his intentions. That very man had his turn sitting in John's chair not that long ago, screaming about revenge while John carved "Gluttony" into the Sinner's chest. From the corner of his eye he could see the youngest of the group speak into a walkie, probably calling in reinforcements. Captured. Me?

John wanted to laugh at the irony, but thoughts of Sabrina and Savannah clouded his mind. "You haven't learned anything from your Confession, have you, Charlie?" It was the wrong thing to say, making Morgan's face twist up in rage, gaze shifting to the truck behind them, "Maybe I should go drag out that lady of yours, march her over here, see how mouthy you are then, you bastard." John tried to keep himself in check, but something must have flashed across his face, urging Charlie to keep pushing. "Yeah, I'd start with carving into her. Make you watch. Then comes your turn. How does that sound?" He turned to the older Resistance member, "Bring her here, Blake." "You have to love them, Brother.", Joseph's voice did little to calm the anger bubbling up inside. The thought of Morgan putting his slimy paws on Sabrina made John see red. Before he can even attempt to silence the urge for violence, his hand had taken out her knife from the back of his jeans and in one brisk motion plunged it into the neck of the Sinner that had led him there. Before Charlie could react he was on top of him next. The whole time the youngest Sinner stood frozen in shock. His pistol shook in his hand at the sight of one of his comrades lying dead on the concrete, blood pooling beneath him and the other was close to follow in his footsteps, too. "Charlie, this isn't what we planned…Hurting others…Blake's dead.", the teen mumbled, voice small. John ignored his panicked ramblings, keeping his attention fully on Charlie, his smile dark as he said, "Yes, you haven't learned anything, Charlie." Morgan was nowhere close to giving up, his fury fueled his struggle and eventually allowed him to overpower John. He was set on grabbing the knife as he came on top with a maniacal look on his face. "You carved my chest, now it's time to carve that pretty face of yours, you bastard. See how Joseph likes you then."

"Is John going to be okay?", Savannah's eyes were brimming with tears. Sabrina's gaze shifted from the scene in front of them back to her sister as the armed man led John away. She rolled the windows up, afraid what might carry through them. "Hey, look at me, everything is going to be okay.", she reached her hand out to Savannah, "Don't look ahead, okay?" "Okay." Two paths were presented to her again: to drive off or help John. Her brain screamed at her to be rational, that Savannah was the only priority, that she should crawl over the console and into the driver seat, turn the truck around and leave. Her conscience argued he's in danger because of her: because he took her out of that bunker in the first place and he was breaking a rule by taking her to his home to protect her sister. And her heart… it reminded her he's the man from her visions. That she would be abandoning him to die, never to see him again. Acting or not. I can't leave him. Her father was not one for inaction, it's what led to his death and he passed that dangerous drive down to his daughter. She knew what he would do. Her mind was made up the second she saw John take down one of the men. You're going to get yourself killed, Seed. In a blink, she was reaching into the glovebox, pulling out the gun, absorbing the familiar feeling as she gripped it and released the safety before she turned to Savannah. "Keep your head down, whatever happens, you don't look. Lock the doors behind me, Sav." "John-" "I'm going to get him." She kissed her sister's forehead, rushing out of the truck, her eyes zeroing in on John and another man locked in a struggle on the ground, fighting over a knife. Above them stood a teenager, face frozen in shock, as he pointed the gun at the two men, unsure what to do, if he should shoot. "Charlie, stop it! We agreed we're taking him in alive! We had a plan!" Charlie? She knew that name, many times she and Hudson had to escort him out of the Spread Eagle after he had decided to sleep there after a full day of drinking. Then suddenly one day he had disappeared, taken in by John's men only to reemerge with a dark look that refused to leave his eyes, constantly talking about getting revenge on the Project. In that moment he was set on killing John, screaming about carving into his face as payback. Seems like your own sins are catching up with you, Seed. Did you have him in that room, too?

The teen's gaze shifted from the ground up to Sabrina as she drew in closer, he raised his pistol in panic, pulling the trigger but his hand was shaking so badly he missed, grazing Sabrina's arm instead. She ignored the sting, hitting her target in a spot at his shoulder that was less likely to be leathal, the tricky shot incapacitated him, but whatever was in the "bullet" took him down in seconds, to the point she was worried she had killed him somehow. A brief moment was all it took for Charlie to get distracted when his friend's body hit the ground, giving John the chance to strike and sink the knife into his neck in one swift move. "A chance at Eden, Charlie. And you threw it away.", came as a mutter. He rolled the man's body off him as Sabrina reached her free hand out to pull him up. "Sabrina.", he lay still for a second, his blue eyes staring into hers, betraying his bewilderment at her assistance. "You expected me to leave?" John nodded, as he grabbed her outstretched arm, his own hands were bloody, getting hers covered too. He got up, smoothing the strands of hair that had gone out of place during the scuffle. "You should have left. Your sister-" "She's okay. I told her to lock the doors. I don't leave people behind, John." "Even me?" "Even you." "And yet, that boyfriend of yours left you behind. Ironic." "Boyfriend?", Sabrina's eyes narrowed in confusion. "That blond Deputy.", the resentment was clear in his tone and the mask slipped for a second as his features morphed into a dark frown. She didn't correct his assumption when she said, "Calahan. And he didn't leave me, I told him to go." "You sacrificed yourself so he gets away. You must love him then." Fishing for information now, are we? "I simply didn't want to risk his life too. I can take care of myself." "That I've seen. You're quite resourceful.", John wipped her knife off his jeans, "Your little gift saved my life, Deputy." Gift. Ha.

""A knife in your boot can save your life one day.", it's what my father used to say." And Scott Donovan was right, her own knife had helped John. "Smart man." Sabrina gave him a sad smile as she kneeled down, checking on the teen at her feet, "He was. A truly good man." Barely lucid, but still breathing. Good. "We have to go, Deputy. I'm pretty certain this one called in reinforcements." She nodded in response and when John made a move towards the teen, knife still clutched in his hand, she put herself between them, adding, "If you're planning on killing him, too… I won't let you. He's a kid, couldn't even hold his weapon steady. Enough lives were lost today, John, and it's barely noon." "Fine, Deputy." After moving the bodies off the path, they headed back to the truck, as he asked, "What do we tell Savannah?" We. That's progress. Sabrina took a deep breath, "I- for once I'm not sure, I need a minute." His hand was on the small of her back, offering silent support as they reached the passenger's side door. To Sabrina's relief her sister had followed her instructions: she was curled into herself, her auburn hair barely peeking out between the seats. She looked up cautiously when Sabrina knocked on the glass. "We're okay, pumpkin. You can open up." Savannah climbed over the console, rolling down the window, "Are the bad men gone?" Gone. Both literally and figuratively. "Yes, Sav. Pass me your water bottle, will you?" Sabrina and John quickly washed off whatever they could from the blood before climbing back into the truck. Soon they were back on the road with the men's bodies not visible in the rearview mirror anymore as Savannah's face poked inbetween the front seats, her green eyes focusing on John then on her sister. "You're both okay, right?" "Yes", came out in unison, making her laugh out loud. John looked at Sabrina before shifting his gaze back onward, his lips curling into a triumphant smile, "Deputy, you just said "Yes"." "No, I didn't.", she deadpanned. Savannah giggled, "Yes, you did, Rin-Rin." John tilted his head in her sister's direction, "See, Savi here says I'm right." "You're unbeliavable." "So you keep telling me.", and he had the audacity to wink. He just killed two people and is smiling like nothing has happened. Sabrina rested her head against the window, ignoring the pain in her forearm and trying to keep her emotions in check while Savannah and him chatted away, filling the time until they reach their destination.

35 notes · View notes

basiliskonline · 2 years ago

Text

Advice from a GM that just Started Pro-GMing

You'll see my thread on my experiences here.

But this thread is more of a bullet point general advice or things to expect. Will update as I think of things so definitely keep an eye on it and return to the original post regularly if you want to see (or ya know follow me xD)

Between September and November I had familiarized myself with Startplaying, tried some things that didn't work, adjusted my prices and eventually had my first paid campaign underway at $12/Person, about $60/3 hour session.

Between November and January I recruited for my second campaign at $14/Person and got my minimum player count so a session is coming up on Wednesday the 4th. Fill this group up will eventually bring me into about $80 a game for a 3 hour session.

My next campaign I'll be aiming for $16/person.

NOW ONTO THE ADVICE

I am running the same campaign for different groups, this provides me a variety of benefits:

This campaign is one im already running for my personal group, which means any prepwork, is prepwork i'd be doing already. This is definately important at a "starting salary" for a new Pro-GM.

It allows you to practice, familiarize yourself with and getting focused feedback. Everytime you run it, you'll be running a better product.

Warning: For many people this may lead to burnout or getting bored with your campaigns.

What to Run?

I'd love to run indie games and smaller stuff, but tbh the pickins are slim there, especially with how the website is formatted, you will really need someone searching for your games in order to find them.

Your best options are D&D5E and PF2E, though I imagine WoD and other mid-tier games have some possibility too, the Big Two are your best bets for getting regular traffic outside your own bubble.

Campaigns or One-Shots? Campaigns!

Campaigns tend to be more popular than one-shots, and luckily for you, new Pro-GM, they are obviously more consistent.

A Campaign takes, in my experience, a couple weeks to get filled up, people will get impatient or find other opportunities and they'll come and go, but on average I probably get about a person a week, once you have 3 or so, they can and often start to come in much faster.

To prevent issues in regularity, make it clear up front in the description that you are not looking for a "drop-in" campaign, and you are aiming for people that at the very least intend to stay when joining.

Organization and Tools

look around at other startplaying games to see how they set up their templates and adventure pages.

I'd suggest setting up a discord or guilded server and set up campaign specific roles, so that only people in those campaigns can see the role-related channels. this also allows you to tag everyone in the game for reminders of game start and the like.

Foundry VTT is absolutely fantastic for some games, not as a fantastic as others, if you are running PF2E I strongly suggest familairizing yourself with Foundry because quite frankly its an AMAZING VTT experience.

Feel free to ask questions i'll answer as best as I can!

#paid gm #pro-gm #ttrpg #pf2e #mine

15 notes · View notes

mikavlcs · 1 year ago

Note

Hey babes! I can't describe how excited I am for this story. Thank you for doing this. Let's go!

A disembodied hand is a better friend than humans. Thing is everything you need!

Booo. I, too, thought that mystical being were much more interesting and up for some adventures. They have all the powers in the world but instead they choose to be boring, normal and even assholes at points. 👉 out with them.

Lol that black uniform was lowkey slaying... Wednesday whole psycho murder vibe is SO hot and attractive. Should I be concerned about what I find sexy...?

LOL THING SHOT A PEBBLE AT R?? This is what I'm talking about! That little guy is so unhinged and funny!

Honestly it would take up ALL of my brainpower to even understand Thing. I would immediately learn sign language just for him!

Thats it. I'm in love. He's launching pebbles at students for fun. THIS IS ICONIC AND JUST MY HUMOR. Thing and I were made for each other.

Girl if I were to throw pebbles at people that just look like an asshole then I'd need to get a tennis ball launcher...

Being an absolute menace and terrorizing people together with Thing is my dream. Through this story it's finally coming true! I'm in heaven.

Aw Thing. Throwing grapes at people but still listening to Rs rant. Best friend ever.

Well... to Wednesday defense. The homicide was JUST attempted, not fully committed so it IS a bit better.

Oh come on Wednesday. Let them borrow your tools! Girls just wanna have fun!

Oooh scented lotions! Well done Thing. You gotta keep yourself moisturized and smelling good like the gentleman you are.

THING! NO BAD GUY! You can't just take all the credit. Damn, that hurt. I thought we were partners! We're supposed to share the glory.

"Stage 4 human decomposition" girl the way I gasped. I absolutely LOVE sassy comebacks and jokes. Wednesday does too, if her eye twitched. I count that as her laughing silently. Miss girl would love to smell like a corpse though...

Hey! It IS Things dorm too. He lives there. He is allowed to invite people over.

Enid! Hey babe! Thanks for letting us borrow stuff to annoy people. You're a real one. Some people (Wednesday) could loosen up a bit and also participate.

Damn. Wednesday is tolerating R AND even having a conversation. That's big!

Hell yes! Let us wreck havoc and defend Wednesdays honor! Everyone better watch out, Thing and I will come for you. One way or another, I'm gonna get ya.

Tbh I would have burst out laughing too. Wednesday in that suit was SO hilarious.

Oh man, Thing really is so adorable. All excited for punching the fish and being successful. I would melt if he came skidding towards me all happily. Wednesday who? I got my new main bitch and it's Thing.

...that didn't last long. If Wednesday would stare intensely at me I would combust. Jer stage is so hot. If she starts at you then she definitely finds you interesting. The fact that R is best friends with Thing and treats him so well, definitely impresses Wednesday and softens her.

Awww Thing gets flustered! My heart can't take all this cuteness.

Same. The misery of others fuels me. Thing is me. I am Thing.

Oh yeah. The thrill of pestering Wednesday and teasing her just the right amount is definitely addicting. Will you wake up with Wednesday kissing or killing you? Who is to say. That's the fun of the whole situation!

"Tiny terror" R really came for Wednesday here. Poor girl can't do anything about her size.

ok finally answering these omfg...

honestly, like the way no one besides wednesday was interested in solving the mystery was so 🤨 like who cares about dances and shit...Boring!

and yes her black uniform was 10/10. fuck that purple uniform, i would want the black one so bad 😭

Being an absolute menace and terrorizing people together with Thing is my dream. Through this story it's finally coming true! I'm in heaven.

it would actually be so much fun, like that really is the dream😭

Well... to Wednesday defense. The homicide was JUST attempted, not fully committed so it IS a bit better.

not in her opinion 💀

i was actually so proud of this joke LMAOOO. wednesday being both annoyed and amused >>>

Damn. Wednesday is tolerating R AND even having a conversation. That's big!

the way the conversation on her end was probably just threats of bodily harm 😭😭

Tbh I would have burst out laughing too. Wednesday in that suit was SO hilarious.

no pls. i watched the show with my mom and the way they cut to her walking out of the tent in the catsuit had us both crying laughing LMFAJSAHFJAF

the way your thing supremacy era lasted one paragraph LMFAO. i would honestly melt if she (or anyone really) stared at me intensely 💀

"Tiny terror" R really came for Wednesday here. Poor girl can't do anything about her size.

so true!! and that was another line/joke i was proud LOL

(see u in part 2<3)

#clexa is forever #so sorry it took so long for me to answer these #my god...

2 notes · View notes

casspurrjoybell-20 · 4 months ago

Text

FOOLS Fall - Chapter 30 - Part 1

BOOK TWO: The 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy

*Warning - Adult Content*

Noah Wright

The following week was a constant sedated numbness of living.

I had opened the envelope my mother gave Sam to give to me.

I sat at the counter with Ciera by my side and we both stared at the unopened envelope in front of us that laid on the countertop.

"So? Are you gonna open it?" Ciera questioned in a whisper.

It was the first words spoken in the past three minutes.

I sighed and grabbed the envelope.

Curiosity was only half of what I felt looking at the envelope.

I was also scared.

I knew the probability of there being a letter in here with her saying that I was the reason she left, being a slim to none probability,but the thought was still in the back of my mind.

It's one thing to think it was your fault, it's another to know it was your fault and I didn't know if I could take it.

"Oh, for fuck sake, it's not that dramatic," Ciera claimed as she yanked the envelope from my hand, tore it open and pulled out what was inside.

A birthday card.

I grabbed the celebratory card out of my friend's hand and opened the card.

The card was an average, probably Dollar Tree bought, birthday card but there was a note written inside.

'Happy birthday, sweetheart.

There's so much I need to say to you but so little room on this card.

I'll start with I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry I left you and your brother.

I needed to get away.

Please let me explain why.'

At the bottom of her note is an address.

I sniffled and quickly swiped at my eyes before any tears that had built up could drop.

I cleared my throat, stood up and threw away the card.

"Noah..." Ciera looked at me with sympathy in her eyes and I couldn't take.

"Don't. I don't want to see her and if I wanted to argue about it, I'd call Sam."

"Okay. You're right, it's your decision but don't you want..." I waited but she seemed to think better of her next words and her mouth closed.

"What should I make for lunch?" she asked instead.

Ciera was basically my roommate and after the third day, I demanded that she slept in my bed and I'd sleep on the couch.

I was glad she was there, she helped me clear my mind on the situation with Sam.

We were sitting on the couch Wednesday night, Ciera insisted on watching Clueless and drinking hot chocolate for 'comfort'.

But our comfort movie got shut out when I told her everything that happened between Sam and myself.

"You're such a jackass," Ciera stated emotionlessly so I couldn't tell if she was being serious.

"Excuse me?" I questioned, feeling irritated now instead of my bitter mood when I was finished telling her how we broke up.

"Jude makes Sam uncomfortable and you haven't done anything about it," Ciera stated.

"Sam needs to trust me."

"Head-ass, it's not about trusting you. It's about every time he tells you he doesn't like Jude, you do nothing about it. How about you just talk to Jude and tell him straight up 'nothing is going to happen between us, I'm with Sam and if you can't respect that, then we can't be friends'."

"But Jude knows that."

"Right but you do that for Sam. So Sam can hear you being firm about your relationship with him. You telling him 'get over it, Jude and I are just friends' isn't reassurance. It's you being too stubborn to do what Sam needs you to do to feel secure. God, I thought you were a Scorpio, not a Leo," she rolled her eyes at me and left me stumped.

"Okay fine, I was a jackass, I'll take that but him not telling me about being in contact with my mother?"

"Yeah but playing devils advocate, Sam's dating a hot-headed tower of a man which is scary and ya' know actually there's really no excuse I can think of," Ciera admitted.

"Sam should've told you asap but the Jude situation is an easy fix, so swallow your pride and fix it. The mother thing? I don't know, that's up to you if you want to forgive him for that."

I sighed.

"Whatever, let's just watch this movie, I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Ciera was right.

I needed an outside source to talk it out with me for me to see it from all sides, so I was grateful Ciera was there even if I hated being told I was the one in the wrong.

Nonetheless, I was going to take Ciera's advice, I was going to make things clear to Jude that we would be nothing more than friends and if that wasn't enough for Sam then I'll distance myself from Jude.

Sam was more important to me and I was being a complete jackass.

I was going to talk to Jude at school but I didn't need to because Jude came over Saturday night unexpectedly.

1 note · View note

wordsnwhiskey · 4 years ago

Text

As It Should Be Verse: Hold Onto The Sunset Drabble/Oneshot

A/N: This is my go at Writer Wednesday, hosted by the amazing @autumnleaves1991-blog . I've got this set in the future of the As It Should Be verse. I figured since Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons left off on a bit of a sad note I'd give you guys some fluff to tide you over until Ch 4!

It's 03:30 here and this is unedited so I might come back and see if something is egregiously wrong but otherwise this is going to stand.

Warnings: None? Aside from a polyam MMF relationship that's all fluff (with PDA) here!

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales [AO3]

The sand was warm beneath your toes as you shifted in your decidedly uneven folding chair. A few crushed beer cans littered the table but you were all too enthralled in your game of Hold ‘Em to care. The smell of charcoal and grilled food floats teasingly in the air. Santiago had abandoned your game to go and start grilling otherwise we won’t eat until the sun’s long gone. Yeah, that was it. It had nothing to do with the fact that he had handedly lost his last hand and consequently the rest of his money, to Frankie.

It was Jack’s turn to deal and you watch his large hands palm and manipulate the well-worn deck. The whirring sound of the cards folding together followed by the sharp tap against the table as he shuffled was calming and sounded as natural as the ocean waves licking at the beach did. You paused a moment before looking at your cards to try to gauge everyone else's reactions only to find three pairs of brown eyes and one pair of green eyes staring back at you. Laughter rang out across the table, that’s just what happens when you play poker with Statesmen agents and Delta Force vets. Schooling your facial expressions, you peel back the corners of your cards to see your hand: a Jack and 10 of spades.

“Call.” Came Tequila’s cheery drawl.

“Fold.” Ginger sighed and tossed her cards back to the center of the glass table.

“I’m getting another beer from the cooler. Does anyone else want one?”

Her question was met with chorus of ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’. She smiled then rolled her eyes and went about collecting the cold, wet cans from the cooler.

“Call.” Continues Jack with his trademark smirk.

“Call.” Frankie’s voice is a bit rough from having just downed the remainder of his beer.

You called wordlessly, your chips following the others’ as they clinked on the glass table top, then Jack dealt the flop: 9 of hearts, 8 of spades and Ace of diamonds.

Jack’s gaze was on you, gauging your reaction and wondering if you had an Ace to match the one on the table. The betting went around, Jack raised, a classic aggressive opening move from him, but you were all somewhat surprised when Frankie re-raised him. All eyes narrowed at Frankie. The man had a scary good poker face, keeping the tension out of his jaw and meeting everyone’s gaze with those brown puppy eyes of his. It was how he had trounced Santi earlier.

Ginger came back with your beers and set them down on the table before taking back her seat, watching in amusement. You called and Jack dealt the turn card: a Queen of spades.

“You waitin’ on a Jack there darlin’?”

Jack challenged and raised, his voice was rough honey as he tried to get a rise out of you.

You let a laugh spill from your lips and your own mischievous smirk lights a spark in your eye.

“Oh no, I’ve already got a Jack and you’re more than enough. I don’t think I could handle another.”

Frankie’s neutral face breaks into a wide grin and Jack’s mind starts spinning, trying to assess all of the possible meanings behind what you just said. The three of you call and Jack throws down the river: a 7 of spades. What were the fucking odds?

Tequila frowned then checked, Jack raised, Frankie called and you re-raised. A collection of groans were uttered across the table but they all ponied up anyways.

“Straight Flush. Pay up boys!”

You don’t even bother to hide the smugness in your voice. Tequila huffed and cracked his beer open.

“Santiago! Is the food done yet? I thought you said we’d be eating before the sun went down?”

He was exaggerating of course, it wasn’t nearly that late and the summer sun was slow to set over the water. Tequila got up to go and lick his wounds with Santiago around the grill. You got up as well, walking around and pressing a kiss to Frankie’s lips before Jack unceremoniously tugged you into his lap for a kiss as well and smiled.

“C’mere, darlin’ I want one too.”

His smile is good natured, your boys were rarely ever jealous of each other. Something cold and wet makes you jump, your eyes darting to the offending object only to see Frankie’s wide grin and mischievous eyes as he holds your cold beer to your arm. You playfully smack Frankie’s arm then take your beer with a thank you. You’re pleasantly surprised when Frankie lifts your legs to rest in his lap, his fingers grazing over them as he sips his own beer.

Frankie deals the next hand and you can’t help but giggle at how ridiculous it is being in Jack’s lap and trying to keep your cards from each other. Ginger wipes the floor with all of you that hand.

Hooting and hollering, draws your group’s attention across the beach and you see Benny and Will ambling across the sand, each with a six pack in their hands. Benny practically tackles Santiago as he brings him in for a hug.

“Hey! Watch it Benny, I’m grilling here!”

Will shakes his head and pulls Santi in for a decidedly calmer hug and Benny is already waltzing over to the table where you, Frankie, Whiskey, Ginger and Tequila are. Frankie lets your feet down and stands to give Benny a hug.

“Fish! Good to see ya man!”

“Good to see you too, Benny.”

You’re out of Jack’s lap, to his slight dismay, and hugging Benny, it had been years since you had last seen the lovable younger Miller brother.

“Benny, this is Whiskey, Ginger and Tequila, we all work together.”

Benny didn’t even bat an eye and just greeted everyone with a large smile.

“Whiskey, Ginger and Tequila! Well, don’t you all sound like fun!”

Laughter rang out amongst everyone and Santiago called out that the food was done.

“Why don’t you stay here, honey. Benny and I will get plates for you and Whiskey.”

Frankie wasn’t really asking a question and it wasn’t much of a choice since you found yourself once again back in Jack’s lap, his mustache tickling your skin as his lips pressed to your cheek then temple.

Benny clapped Frankie on the back as they walked over to where Santiago had set out their food.

“So you and Hawk and… ?”

“Yeah, and Whiskey, the three of us, together.”

Benny eyed Frankie for a moment, more out of concern than any judgement.

“Well right on, Fish. It’s good to see you happy. About time with Hawk too, huh?”

Frankie fought and lost against his blush, playfully shoving Benny. They brought their plates back to where you and Whiskey were sitting. Frankie put Whiskey’s plate down, inched his chair closer then sat down. Benny handed you your plate with a flourish.

“Here you go, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and smiling at him even as Jack’s grip on your hip tightened slightly.

“Thanks, Benny.”

He left the three of you then and went to mingle with Ginger and Tequila.

The three of you ate in easy silence. Your feet were draped across Frankie’s lap, your back cradled by Jack’s arm and head resting on his shoulder. Frankie’s fingers alternated between tracing patterns over your skin and resting on Jack’s free hand.

Laughter played off of the sand and air around you, mixing with the sound of the waves. A light, content smile played across your lips as you watched your friends together. It was getting darker now and the sky was painted varying shades of pink, purple, and orange.

“Wow.”

The word slipped from your mouth in awe. Frankie and Jack hummed their agreement in unison and you swear sometimes they were on the same wavelength. You let out a long sigh then take a sip of your beer and settle in further against Jack.

“Whatcha thinking, honey?”

Frankie’s voice is just above a whisper, as if talking any louder would break the spell of perfection that had settled around your group and mother nature.

“I wish I could just hold onto this moment, hold onto this sunset. I’m with the loves of my life, for the first time my family is all together, they’re all having fun and I can’t think of a place I’d rather be than right here watching this sunset.”

Jack held you tighter and kissed your shoulder while Frankie brought your knuckles to his lips.

“We love you too, honey. Couldn’t imagine being anywhere else either.”

Frankie murmurs against your skin and you feel Jack’s hum through his chest. You take in the sight before you, memorizing it so you can paint the canvas in your mind and hold this moment with you, your own slice of heaven. Breathing in, you hold onto the remnants of charcoal from the grill and the salt from the ocean. You hold onto the feeling of the warmth radiating from the last rays of the fading light. It gives way to the heat emanating from Jack and Frankie, which envelops not just your body but your soul as well. You let out a sigh as Frankie leans in closer to you and Jack.

You were going to hold onto this sunset for the rest of your days.

Thanks for reading y'all!

Taglist: @danniburgh @pascalslittlebrat @yespolkadotkitty @mothandpidgeon @mouthymandalorianalso @phoenixhalliwell @itsme-aj467 @kesskirata @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @driedgreentomatoes @pintsizemama @neganwifey25-blog @wheresarizona @absurdthirst @sarahjkl82-blog @duchesschameleon @sherala007 @beautyagegoodnesssize @all-hallows-evie @a-bang-for-your-bucky

#As It Should Be #writer wednesday #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales x f!reader #Frankie Morales x reader #Agent Whiskey x f!reader x Frankie Morales

83 notes · View notes

itsadamcole · 4 years ago

Text

christmas lights - pt. 2

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

reader and Drew are separated as they both figure out what they both want to do ...

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce, angsty, upset!drew, lots of emotions

— part 2. parts 3 and 4 will be coming out tomorrow (12/22) and wednesday (12/23) just so y’all know —

masterlist || request an imagine here

part 1 || part 3 || part 4

***

You sit on the couch curled up in a ball. You're under a fuzzy blanket as you play with your engagement ring. You watch the diamond go around your finger a few times through your tears.

He cheated. You can't believe he did. He never seemed like the type to go and cheat on his significant other. He's so kind, so considerate, and so sensitive. Drew's the kind of person to make sure no one's hurt after an intense match and he immediately feels bad if he's hurt someone. He always gets upset if he hurts someone, so you don't understand why he'd just go and cheat on you, and lie about it to your face.

That night from two weeks ago flashes in your mind and you begin to cry softly on the couch. You rest your forehead on your knees and sob.

The cries echo through the empty house you once shared with Drew. It's been so quiet without the TV blaring some kind of wrestling match or without Drew yelling to wherever you were and asking you where something is. You've gotten used to it when he's away but he's supposed to be home right now. He's supposed to be holding you in his arms, and you can't stop picturing him possibly holding her in his arms.

There's a knock on the door and you get up.

You've asked Candice LeRae, Indi Heartwell, Sasha Banks, and Liv Morgan to all come over. WWE is in the area for the next few weeks and they fixed their schedules so they could come talk to you.

When you open the door, you see Candice and Indi standing there. Candice's face drops and says, "Oh, God. It's as bad as I thought."

Indi hugs you tight before Candice joins in.

"Wait, I want in!" Liv Morgan yells behind Candice and Indi. She joins in.

You feel better with your girls around. The pain temporarily goes away.

Sasha arrives shortly after Liv did and all of you sit in the living room. Candice and Liv sit on either side of you as you try to stop crying long enough to tell them what happened.

Liv gently rubs your back as you say, "So, um, Drew's been cheating on me. I don't know for how long, but on Christmas a woman sent him a photo of her in some lingerie and told him to enjoy the picture if I don't satisfy him enough." Then the tears begin.

Candice hugs you and Sasha says, "I'm gonna beat his ass, I swear to God."

You cry, "He told me that it was a friend who likes to tease him because I'm never around to have sex but I never believed him. It's such a bullshit lie."

The girls look at each other before Indi says, "When we see him, we'll give him a piece of our minds. We won't let him get away with that."

Candice asks, "What do you want to do, Y/N? What's the next step here?"

You wipe your tears and sit up. You say, "I don't know. I don't want him around but at the same time, I need him. He's the only thing in my life that's keeping me sane right now besides you guys but you're around just as much as he is. I just feel like I wasn't good enough for him and if I feel like that then what's the point in keeping him around?"

"No, sweetie," Sasha coos. "It's his loss if he wants to go and mess around behind your back. You don't deserve someone like that."

Candice takes your hand and Liv says, "You haven't talked to him, have you? Not since Christmas?"

You shake your head and say, "He told me he was going to stay at Sheamus and Cesaro's place. I haven't talked to him or seen him since. I've called out of work for at least another week because I told them that I was having family problems and needed to be placed on an indefinite leave for right now."

Indi says, "I'd say talk to him, no matter how much it hurts. If you feel like the relationship is broken then fix it. If it's too far gone then it's time to divorce him."

Divorce. Could you divorce the man you promised to spend the rest of your life with? The man you planned to start a family with? Could you do that?

Fixing what's broken sounds like the best thing to do, but is it what he wants to do? Or does he love her more than he loves you? Does he even love you anymore? Is there a relationship to even be fixed.

You could ask for less hours at work, but then when Drew's on the road you'll be lonely. If you don't change your hours then he may stray away again.

Drew hasn't reached out at all so you can only assume the worst. He did tell you to talk to him when you were ready, but will you ever be ready to talk to the man that told you he loved you but betrayed you?

***

Drew's POV

It's been two weeks. Two damn weeks and Y/N hasn't reach out at all. I think that this is it. I think I messed up so much that she's officially gone.

I almost begin to expect divorce papers at this point. That'll probably be the next time I see Y/N. She'll be handing me divorce papers to end the seven year marriage between the two of us.

Sheamus knocks on my door frame and walks in. Cesaro right behind him.

"Hey, buddy," Sheamus says. "Ya hangin' in there?"

I shake my head and say, "I can't believe I fucked up this much. I can't believe I fucking told her I cheated when I didn't. Hell, I told Diane she can keep the set and blocked her because of this. I don't know what to do, dude."

Cesaro asks, "Has Y/N reached out?"

I shake my head. "No," I say. "God, I'm an idiot. I should just expect divorce papers. There's no way that she'll believe me if I actually tell her the truth."

"Ya should try," Sheamus says. "Communication is key. Ya should talk to her and try tellin' her the truth. Beg for her forgiveness."

I look down at my hands in my lap and sigh.

Sheamus is right. I just don't think she'll believe me since I told her I cheated on her when I didn't. There's proof that I never cheated on her. I just don't think that she'll believe me if I tell her the truth.

My phone begins to ring and I immediately answer it, hoping it's Y/N.

"Drew, you asshat," Candice LeRae says to me. "You cheated on her?"

Of course she told Candice. Indi, Sasha, and Liv all probably think that too.

I say, "I never cheated. She took a text the wrong way. I wasn't able to explain myself so yeah, I told her I cheated but I never cheated."

Candice says, "Tell me your side. Maybe I can get her to reach out to you so she can get your side."

"I have a friend, Diane," I start. "Well, had. She's blocked on everything now. Anyway, she and I bought Y/N a gift for Christmas. It was a lingerie set and I wanted a woman opinion on it so I took Diane shopping with me and she helped me pick it out. It was a surprise for Y/N. So Diane asked me to come over to come get it but Y/N was home and I didn't want to leave because it's been so long since I saw Y/N. Diane decided to mess with me by sending me a picture of herself in the set I bought for Y/N and said 'I'm sorry ya couldn't come over. This is for ya. Enjoy it if that wife of yers doesn't satisfy ya enough', and Y/N saw the text and immediately accused me of cheating."

Candice is quiet the entire time as I explain myself to her. Sheamus and Cesaro listen too.

I continue with, "And I might've told Y/N that I cheated because she wasn't believing me and I thought that it was what she wanted to hear."

Sheamus and Cesaro both facepalm and Candice says, "You're a dumbass, you know that? She's a crying mess over here and she thinks that she wasn't good enough for you, Drew. She's called out of work indefinitely and she's probably been over here crying for two weeks. You need to fix this."

I rub my face and I say, "I know that! I don't know how. She probably doesn't want to talk t'me and it wouldn't surprise me if she's called a divorce lawyer at this point."

"She doesn't know what she wants to do," Candice sighs. "I think she wants to talk things out but I don't think she thinks there's a relationship to fix. You need to do something, Drew. Soon."

I sigh and say, "I will. I just need some time, okay? Make sure she's okay and I'll talk t'her soon."

Candice says, "Alright, but you're still a dumbass and I know Y/N loves you so I'll do what I can. I believe you, by the way. That is way too elaborate to be a lie."

"Gee, thanks," I mumble.

We say goodbye and I look between Sheamus and Cesaro as I hang up the phone.

I sigh, "How did I get here?"

Sheamus says, "Your first mistake was going lingerie shopping with a woman that wasn't your wife."

He's probably right about that. Well, not probably. He's right about that.

It was that event that snowballed into this, and I hate the situation that I'm in. I told Y/N to reach out to me when she was ready but if she doesn't think there's a relationship to fix then she'll reach out to me when she needs me to sign divorce papers.

—

tags: @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre x reader #wrestling imagine #wrestling angst #wwe imagine #wwe angst #imagines #imagine #angst imagine #christmas imagine

76 notes · View notes

mingissmile1117 · 4 years ago

Text

Hello! I decided to post this ff on here as well! It would really mean a lot and help me out if you could also check it out on my wattpad:)!! Don't feel obligated to though.

Chapter 1, Late Wednesday Nights

1574 Words

Seonghwa didn't want to work at this damned bar for the rest of his life. Smelling vomit and having to drag heavy limp body's outside really does something to a person's sanity. He swore, if he had to mop up sticky alcohol residue on the floor from clumsy drunks spilling their drinks one more time he was doing to snap his own neck.

The night was coming closer, and so was Seonghwas shift. Since it was a Wednesday night, almost everyone that was here from the evening had left, by their own will or forced to from security. The tired man stared off into space, mindlessly wiping off the soapy shot glasses behind the counter.

He came to when the bell from the door chimed softly. Annoyed, he groaned quietly. Who comes to the bar this late on a Wednesday night?

When he looked up, his breath hitched, stuck in his throat. Standing at the entrance was a man of short stature. He adorned a blonde buzz cut. His chin was slim and complimented by a sharp jawline that could cut through diamonds. The man's eyes were beautiful; deep chocolate brown irises and long, black eyelashes. His lips were the perfect shade of pink and deliciously plump. Overall, he was quiet the pretty man.

"Hello!" Hongjoong waved his hand, trying to get Seonghwas attention.

Seonghwa blinked, swallowing dryly. "Sorry- sorry. Welcome! Have a seat." He said with a smile, throwing his towel over his shoulder and resting his hand on his hip. "What can I get for you?" He asked the man across the counter, eyes taking in all his sharp features.

Hongjoong sat down on the barstool and rested his hand on the counter, slowly tapping his fingers. "Give me a minute to think." He asked politely.

Seonghwa nodded. He looked down at Hongjoongs hand, taking note of his panted nails and multiple rings.

"Woah... that's hot..."

Seonghwa thought to himself, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. He cleared his throat, going to the counter behind him pretending to do something to distract himself.

"Sir?" Hongjoong softly raised his voice.

"You can just call me Seonghwa." The man said, looking back at the blonde with a playful smile.

"Well, Seonghwa, I'd like a margarita, if you don't mind."

"One margarita for?" Seonghwa turned around, looking at the blonde with a raised eyebrow.

"Hongjoong." The shorter man smirked.

"One margarita, coming up for Hongjoong!" Seonghwa said brightly, his hands getting to work as he started to whip up the drink.

"So hongjoong-" Seonghwa averted his gaze. "What brings to here at this time of night?" He asks.

The blonde sat back in the barstool, the three undone buttons on his flannel exposing a sliver of his chest.

"Got bored while taking a nightly stroll and decided I had some cash to burn." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't you have work in the morning? It's a Wednesday after all." Seonghwa looked up at the other.

"No not really..." Hongjoong bit his lip.

"Well you have to make an income somehow, what do you do?"

"I guess you could say I'm a freelance artist." The blonde titled his head, smirking as he bit his tongue between his teeth.

"Well Mr. Freelance artist," Seonghwa slid a cold glass across the counter, "You're drink is ready."

Hongjoong raised his eyebrow, chuckling softly as he set a 10 on the counter. "Thanks." He picked up the glass, his rings clinking against the surface.

The blonde stared into his drink, spinning it softly and watching the ice clash with eachother. "So Seonghwa, what do you do? Ya know like out of this bar?"

The red haired man blushed, looking down at the counter he was leaning on. "I like to make YouTube videos, they're really nothing much though. I live with my two roommates though who are pretty interesting. One of them really likes to cook, so I get to taste test his food all the time!" Seonghwa stopped himself before he starting rambling too much. "Ah sorry..." He scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

"It's alright. I like hearing you talk." He said with a playful grin, "I also like people who can carry a conversation by themselves, I'm not that much of a talker." He took a sip of his alcohol, tipping his head back sensually.

The night carried on as Seonghwa talked to his hearts content while Hongjoong listened adoringly.

The were in their own little world, one at a barstool and the other behind the counter. Stars filled the dark sky as the moon shone brightly over the tall buildings. Crickets chirped softly in the grass between the cracks of the sidewalk.

They were brought back to reality when the apple watch on Seonghwas wrist started beeping frantically. "Oh- it's closing time already?" He said disappointed, tapping the screen on his watch to turn off the alarm.

"How about I give you a ride home after I clean up the place a bit?" Seonghwa immediately offered, not losing the chance to get this man more. "You said you walked here right? Plus it's pretty late out, I don't think any of the cab places will pick up." He said with a knowing smirk.

"I'm sold." Hongjoong sat back in the stool, crossing one leg over the other. "I'll wait for you then." He smiled.

Seonghwa grabbed the blondes empty glass and began to clean up the back of the counter.

Seonghwa opened the car door for Hongjoong, letting him in the passengers side. "Wow, what a gentleman." The shorter man joked, getting into the car.

Seonghwa got into the driver's side with a huff. He stretched his body, relaxing into the seat. As he stuck his keys into the ignition he asked, "So whats your address?"

"The apartment building on Dongyo Street. You know the one above the 7-Eleven?"

Seonghwa stopped suddenly and looked over at Hongjoong. "No way, really?" He asked, mouth agape with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" The blonde asked, a little confused.

"I live in that same building! How come I've never seen you before?"

"Oh!? Well I just moved in to the 5th floor a few weeks ago."

"The new floor they just got done building? Makes sense why I haven't seen you yet." He stated as he stepped on the gas, driving out of his parking spot.

Seonghwa had insisted on walking with Hongjoong to his apartment. He wanted to get this mans number so badly, but he was nervous and wasn't quite sure how to ask. "This is your room? E300?" They stopped walking and stood in front of the door. "Mhm, sure is." Hongjoong reached in his pocket, searching for his keys.

"So uh," Seonghwa started awkwardly, completely contrasting from his earlier subtle flirting. "Since we live in the same building and all, I think it would be pretty convenient if we had eachothers numbers."

"Oh well-" Hongjoong was cut off by the door opening, a 6 ft tall man with black hair behind the frame.

"Dude, where have you been?! Get in here! Mingi is literally destroyed our kitchen earlier trying to make dinner since you weren't here- come help clean up!" Yunho pulled Hongjoong inside and slammed the door shut.

"Wait but-" Seonghwa whined. He wasn't that disappointed that he didn't get Hongjoongs number since they lived in the same building, but it was going to be a lot harder now.

He walked all the way downstairs to the second floor, sulking. He opened the door to his apartment, room B6. It was quiet dark as he expected it to be Wooyoung and San were already asleep in their rooms. The read head slid of his shoes at the entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. He looked in the fridge quickly, trying to see if anything would appeal to his stomach, but nothing did. With a sigh he walked off to his room and sat down at his desk rather than laying im his bed.

He played some random games mindlessly, but he couldn't get that blonde off of his mind. He also thought about that tall man. What if Hongjoong was dating him? Or that Mingi that the dude mentioned? What if Seonghwa made up everything in his head and he didn't even have a chance?

Out of curiosity, Seonghwa typed something into the search bar

"How to know if your crush likes you"

That sounded absolutely childish, he knew that well, but he couldn't help it.

He scrolled and scrolled down the pages past a bunch of wiki how's and reddit pages. Until, he saw a link for a Craigslist added titled

"Spice up your love life and give your soul to this matchmaking devil"

"Oh?" That sounded quite interesting to the man and so, he clicked.

"Feeling lost in love? Not so sure how to win the heart of your crush? Make an 'deal' with this matchmaker and gain you're deepest desires. You'll surely find the treasure you're sought after. " Seonghwa read out loud, an amused smile on his face.

He scrolled down the page, seeing you could "book an appointment" with the "matchmaker".

"You know what? Fuck it."

After typing in some info he really shouldn't be giving out on the internet, he pressed enter.

Man, he was so desperate.

Tomorrow at 5 pm was his "appointment". What a perfect day to be off work.

34 notes · View notes

buckyshenley16 · 4 years ago

Text

The Tales Of The Winter Soldeir and Winter Witch

Book1, Chapter 1

3 Years before Bucky was drafted

February 5th, 1940

Ramona’s POV

Putting my stacks of paperwork on my desk ready for tomorrow as my work day comes to an end, I find myself sighing in relief after a long day of again getting nowhere with the ��Jeweler Case.’ It seems to be a never-ending case as this is our second week trying to solve the jewelry store robbery and who did what and when, why, and so on.

“Lover boy is on the phone Ramona.” Peggy gloats with a smug grin on her face purposely making sure the speaker was not covered.

“Like I’ve told you almost a hundred times Carter, he is not my lover boy.” I exclaim emphasizing the word ‘not’ with an eye roll and taking the phone off her. “Why hello Buck, what would you be calling to ask the 3rd time today?” I ask with a slight chuckle whilst throwing a rubber at Peggy who is winking at me.

“Just checking before I leave to walk you home doll, did you bring a jacket today? It’s freezing outside and I can see your jacket still hung up, would hate for ya to catch a cold especially when you live with someone with an immune system like Steve.” Bucky says, his Brooklyn drawl being clearer than ever.

“You know, I do have more than one coat Buck?” I ask. “Just checking Mona, I didn’t walk you today so I didn’t see what you left in. Just seen what you woke up in or should I say what you didn’t wake up in.” Bucky asks with a hint of flirting and a hint of cockiness in his voice.

“Yes, and if you carry on with your Mr, big ego act that’ll be the last time you see that, Barnes.” I retort.

“Okay we both know that’s not the truth. Anyway, I’m bouta leave doll, will be there in half an hour, will wait in the usual spot.”

“Not true but okay, see you soon Buck” I say trying not to drop the phone from between my ear and shoulder whilst locking my cabinets. “See you soon, darlin'.” Bucky finishes before putting the phone down.

Bucky and I had known each other since being 6 and 9 being introduced by our friend Steve. Steve had been like a big brother growing up, Sarah being nothing but welcoming to my family when we fled to Brooklyn from Russia. Sarah and my mother would both take turns between childcare; me, my three younger sisters and brother being at the Rogers’ every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and half the day Sunday whilst mother would go to work at the laundry where Sarah also worked.

And obviously Steve would be at our house every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Every Sunday we would have dinner at the Rogers’ with our mother. Our father stayed in Russia with mother wanting to flee a situation I wasn’t told about until I was old enough to understand. Father was abusive and an alcoholic and had a job mother didn’t agree with, but we were never told what that job entailed and whilst I found myself wondering every so often, curiosity never killed the cat and I was enormously proud of that.

Bucky, Steve, and I were best friends growing up with Bucky and Steve being stupidly overprotective of me even when I became a fully trained agent and officially full time at SSR. My mother never 100% agreed with my job and whilst Bucky and Steve questioned it at first for my safety, but once they realised I could handle myself (after witnessing me defend myself against a couple of not so nice men who got a bit too close for my comfort) they were 100% supportive of my job, especially Bucky with one less person to save from the allies and one more person to help when Steve found himself on the not so nice ends of the alleys face first into the trash cans.

It was around 18 years old I'd started developing feelings for Bucky, not that I’d never admit it to him, I was far too proud and full of denial for that because he would never go for a girl like myself; at least that’s what I thought until I found myself intertwined in his sheets with his body wrapped around mine after one passionate, unexpected night a year later.

This went from happening every few weeks, to every two weeks, to maybe once a week to every few nights and I’m still in denial that he would ever want to make things official.

I question whether I want to become his girl, especially with my line of work and seeing my parent’s relationship be the bane of their lives when I was younger. All I’ve ever seen is relationships fail and that is why I refuse to put myself through the pain of one. I care about Bucky, he’s the one person who no matter how rotten the day be I’m guaranteed to have a smile on my face when I see him.

When Sarah died both mine and Bucky's families became close ensuring two big family units to support Steve and even a year and a half after she passed; me, Bucky and Steve got a shared apartment together. Sure, it was no five stars, but it was home and as long as the three of us had each other that was all that mattered. Steve was aware of mine and Bucky's “situation” but chose not to get involved.

Stuck in my own little world I'd not realised half an hour had passed and Bucky would be waiting for me so after grabbing my coat and bag I made sure to say bye to Peggy and arrange coffee and breakfast before work tomorrow morning where we could discuss some of the cases privately, seen as though we knew we were massively undermined at SSR we got a lot of thinking and solving done mostly when we were alone together where no male could underestimate or interrupt us.

Walking down out of the doors I spotted Bucky with a glowing grin on his face, it took everything to keep my footing steady. “Hello, beautiful. How would you feel about hot chocolate and dinner on me at our spot?” Bucky asked holding his arm out to me which I gladly took.

“Gee buck, almost sounds like you’re asking me on a date!” I tease earning a nudge to my side causing a fit of laughter.

“One day doll, I’ve already asked several times but one day I will get a yes out of ya.” Bucky retorted.

“I’ll hold you to that Buck, how was your day?” I asked clinging to his arm.

“The usual, woke up to a fine dame next to me, crappy coffee, got to work. Left work, pulled Steve out of an ally, nagged Steve how he’s not ten men and should think before he acts, walked the little punk back to the apartment, read the paper and now I'm here to pick up you. How bout you doll?” Bucky explains with a hint of sarcasm.

“Same old, really strugglin’ with this case I just can’t seem to understand how a whole jewelry store could be robbed without even a fingerprint left behind nor how someone could even get a hold of that damn gas. How many men was it today? Did you or Steve get hurt?” you ask with a sigh giving Bucky's arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey Mona, don’t worry too much about it, we both know you’ll get to the bottom of it like always and I’m sure whoever’s guilty will regret it when they have to face the bottom of your shoe. Two guys, managed to reason with them after giving one a right hook.” he winked.

“Oh, I know I will, thanks Buck I can always rely on you for some good old confidence boosting. I give up telling the jackass he’s gotta stop this, I may as well be talking to a brick wall!” I finish with a chuckle. As we walk into the bright, retro diner Bucky holds the door open for me before guiding us both to a booth. As we take our coats off a waitress comes to us.

“Well would ya look who it is, only our two favorites! Where’s Rogers tonight?” Our waitress Nancy asks.

“Probably at home bathing his black eye, sulking about his fight whilst planning his next one.” I exclaim earning a laugh from both Bucky and Nancy.

“I don’t even gotta ask, usual for you two?” Nancy asks pointing between us both with her pen.

“Of course!” Bucky says with a grin

“That’s two hot chocolates and a portion of fries coming up!” Nancy exclaims.

“Thanks, Nance!” we both call.

Me, Bucky and Steve have been coming to this diner since we were in school. Their hot chocolates were practically the glue to our friendships. As I looked up from my hands, I spotted Bucky looking at me with a smile on his face. “What’s got you all smiley?” I ask with a grin.

“Just you!” Bucky exclaims grin turning wider.

“Are you purposely trying to make me blush?” I ask with a chuckle feeling warmth go to my face praying my blusher somewhat cancels the blushing.

“Always doll, I just like to make ya blush and to know I’ve still got it.” Bucky explains with a cocky smirk. Damn you and your godly smile Barnes!

“Glad my embarrassment gives you an even bigger ego boost Buck!” I laugh before our food and drinks get set down and we start tucking in.

*An hour later, on the way home from diner*

“Thank you for that Buck, it was fun. Was nice to be sat anywhere but that office.” I explain.

“S’alright doll, anything to put a smile on your face. I wanted to actually talk to you. This, us been goin' on a little while too long now.” Bucky stopped walking and turned me to face him taking both my hands in his.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I ask feeling my heart rip into two.

“Yeah, doll.” he grins.

“Oh okay, no I totally get it Buck we’re kinda not going anywhere and I’m really not ready to put myself into a relationship right now and you wanna move on or you’ve already found a girl. I get it, no hard feelings.” I say holding back the tears.

“Woah doll, no no! You’re completely taking it the wrong way. Mona, I like you, scratch that I’m crazy bout you. I understand you don’t wanna take this further just yet, but I can wait,” he says cupping my face in his hands looking into my eyes.

“Buck, I appreciate that so much but there’s so many better girls throwing themselves at you and you’re going to waste them just to wait for me? I could make you wait years and I wouldn’t want that.” I explain placing my hands over his.

“I don’t want them other girls, I want you. You’re the most beautiful, loyal, caring, and bad ass girl I’ve ever met. I will wait as long as you want me to if it means I can have you. Just please tell me you feel the same.” he begs his eyes searching my face for any sign of feeling the same.

“I do Buck, I have for a while.” I admit a small smile making its way to my lips. Bucky gently strokes his thumb across my bottom lip before pulling me in for a sweet, loving kiss. It was suddenly like it was just the pair of us that existed, nobody mattering in that moment but us two. Bucky pulled away keeping his hands on my face, placing his forehead against mine. “I got you, doll” he says before pulling me into his chest resting his chin on my head, wrapping his arms around my shoulders tightly; sighing contently.

“I got you too, Buck.” I reply wrapping my arms around his waist and smiling contently to myself.

“Let’s get home to the punk before he can’t help but lead himself to another alley huh.” Bucky says whilst linking our arms together and directing us both out of the park.

“We should probably check the alleys on our way back Buck.” I suggest

“Glad we're on the same page doll.” Bucky chuckles.

So, It’s the first of many chapters🤩 I’m so so excited!! Just wanted to give a shout out to @i-write-bucky and @jbarness for proof reading this for me!! Angels🤩❤️

#james buchanan bucky barnes #sebastianstan #the winter solider fanfiction #beefy bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x baby #buckybarnes x reader #seb stan imagine #avengers #bucky barnes smut #catfa #peggy carter #agent carter #buckybarnesfluff #fanfic #winter solider fanfiction

18 notes · View notes