#anyways its a sign I need to make sadie content

[sadie-wolfdawn]

why. why did I just type in sadie wolfdawn like she was a blorbo that others made content about.

[sweetjuniperandboiledsatan]

Chapter 29 – Further Questions of Female Suffrage

Full story here: Not a Doctor, Not an Angel Either Rating: M Pairing: John Marston x F!Reader; Javier Escuella x F!Reader Word count: 39,387 Chapters: 29/41 Warnings: Sexual content, mention of alcohol and cigarettes, blood, violence

In the past few weeks you've spent with Sadie, she had told you repeatedly that you wouldn't truly learn unless you've seen action, and each time she brought it up, you easily dismissed the notion, thinking it might have just been her own version of tough love. You've never given it much thought, really—until now.

You found yourself a couple of miles away from Shady Belle, taking cover behind a boulder, its rough texture pressing against your fingers. The midday sun blazed overhead as Sadie cautiously surveyed the clearing ahead. She informed you casually that there may be about a dozen or more Lemoyne Raiders that had set up a camp there.

You fumbled with your Colt revolver, your hands slightly trembling with apprehension. "I've never shot anyone, Sadie," you muttered as you tried to wrap your head around the reality of the situation. "I've never killed anyone. I don't think I ever can!"

You have desperately tried to explain to her that target practice and taking down the occasional deer were already more than enough, considering before all these, the mere recoil of a gun would send you staggering backward. Now that you could manage to hit a bottle or two out of five in a row, you'd like to believe your lessons were already over, and she had taught you everything you could possibly learn.

Today, however, Sadie had a point to make – as far as she was concerned, lessons weren't over yet.

"Listen, darlin'," Sadie said reassuringly, "I get that this ain't what you signed up for, but sometimes, life deals us a hand we never expected. We ain't lookin' for trouble, but if it comes our way, we need to be ready."

You stole a glance at your Colt, its metal glinting brightly in the sun. You felt your heart pounding relentlessly. The thought of aiming your weapon at another human being sent shivers down your spine, but then you firmly reminded yourself why you were here in the first place.

The only reason why you asked for this crazy woman's help was so you could stop feeling sorry for yourself. You've been so weak and helpless all this time. Perhaps knowing how to fight back could've made all the difference that day your father was killed, or when the Braithwaites took Jack or even the last time you went face to face with your father's murderer.

"You're gonna be just fine. I got your back," she said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. Her eyes remained fixed on the makeshift tents ahead.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you whispered more to yourself than anyone else, "Alright. Fuck. FUCK. Let's do this."

Sadie's plan was straightforward (at least to her, anyway). Given the odds you faced, your best bet would be to approach the camp quietly. Sadie would take the offensive, eliminating any stragglers on the outskirts, as you provided cover. As you get closer, you were to stay low, keep an eye out for any Raiders, and keep covering fire as she maneuvered.

"You see any one of 'em, you point and shoot," Sadie instructed. There was no room for hesitation. She reminded you – just aim, shoot, and keep her alive.

As the two of you braced yourself for the attack, you heard the bushes behind you rustle, causing your heart to leap into your throat. You swivelled around, Colt at the ready.

"Woah, woah, woah, easy there, partner!" Javier whispered. You've shot him once accidentally, and he had no intention whatsoever of going through that again. Arthur was with him. The pair approached you and Sadie, and now, all four of you were huddled together in a rather humorous display of caution.

Arthur leaned in, whispering just loud enough for the group, "We were out fishing and saw you ladies headin' this way. Armed like that, sure didn't seem like a goddamned Sunday picnic you were planning on." Arthur said.

"So what's the plan?" Javier chimed in enthusiastically, rubbing his hands together.

Sadie shook her head at the audacity but instantly realised that a significant advantage had just presented itself. She leaned in closer to you, "Seems like we've got ourselves an impromptu raiding party, darlin'. The more, the merrier, I s'pose. I don't want you getting killed on your first rodeo, and with these two around, we'll have some extra insurance."

She looked at your faces and decisively directed, "Javier, you're with me. Arthur, you're with [Y/N]."

With that settled, you and Arthur swiftly moved to a huge tree, giving you a vantage point over the Lemoyne Raiders' camp. The heat was stifling, but the intensity of the upcoming confrontation made the air feel even heavier. The tree was a little further from the action, but it provided enough cover for both of you.

Arthur readied his revolvers. Every so often, his gaze flitted to you, but you purposely averted your eyes. You clutched your weapon tighter, your palms slick with sweat.

"What? We still ain't talking?"

Taking a moment, you replied, "Just make sure I don't end up dead, Mr. Morgan, and we can call it even."

A faint smirk played on his lips, but his eyes remained serious. "Don't you worry none, I ain't gonna let that happen," he whispered, his voice steady. You found his seemingly calm demeanour, like he'd been through this dance a million times before, both comforting and slightly disconcerting.

Sadie made the first move, expertly dispatching two unsuspecting Raiders who had ventured dangerously close to her spot (most probably to take a piss). Gunshots broke immediately after, the acrid scent of the gunpowder filling the air. That was your signal. Arthur and Javier followed suit, making every bullet count as they maneuvered through the Raiders' camp.

For you, however, time seemed to stand still as the sounds of the battle overwhelmed you – the pop and crack of firearms and the desperate cries of each Raider they've successfully taken down. 'Move! Damn it, move! Just point and shoot, that's all!' But no matter how much you berated yourself, your feet remained rooted to the ground.

Arthur was already a few paces ahead. He turned around to check if you were right behind him. His eyes widened with concern when he noticed you weren't advancing. 

"Move, [Y/N], now!" he urged you in desperation, momentarily letting his guard down.

Then you saw it. As your partner grew increasingly distracted by your inaction, he had failed to notice a Raider creeping up, his weapon raised. He had Arthur dead to rights. Without thinking, instincts taking over, you aimed your Colt and fired – pop! Pop! The bullets hit the Raider just as he was about to pull the trigger on Arthur. The man fell, a surprised expression on his face as he crumpled to the ground.

Arthur looked at you, stunned. "Nice shot!" He called out, a sense of relief and admiration in his voice. "Now get over here!"

The fight continued around you, and there was no time to dwell on the life you had just taken. With each subsequent shot and move you made, you found your rhythm, your reactions sharpening as the minutes passed. Arthur, meanwhile, never strayed too far from your side. He fought fiercely, but every so often, his eyes would search for you amidst the chaos, making sure you were safe.

The hideout was slowly cleared, and as the last Raider fell, a tense silence settled over your surroundings. You looked at your companions. Their faces were smeared with dirt and sweat, a few scratches and bruises here and there, but alive, nonetheless.

Sadie clapped you on the back, "You did good out there."

As you prepared for the journey home, the adrenaline from the fight began to ebb away, and you felt a sharp, persistent pain on the side of your abdomen. You had dismissed it at first, but the pain and discomfort only grew more pronounced.

"Hey, you alright?" Javier asked, noticing the discomfort you were in. Reluctantly, you lifted your shirt, revealing its source. Your face drained of colour as you saw the dark stain on the clothing, the vivid red of fresh blood.

Sadie's eyes widened with alarm, and Arthur was quick to approach. "Dammit." He muttered under his breath.

"It looks like it just grazed you," Sadie observed – she was right. The wound appeared to be superficial, most likely a bullet grazing your side rather than penetrating deeply – a stroke of luck, you thought, realising that should you have stood inches away from your spot earlier, you would've been pretty much dead by now.

Still, you knew that even seemingly minor wounds could turn serious if left untreated. With trembling hands, you pressed a cloth against the wound, applying gentle pressure to slow the bleeding. The pain was sharp.

Javier watched with concern. "You're gonna be alright," he assured you. "It's not too bad. We need to get you home and patch you up."

*

Back at the camp, the four of you made quite the sight. With your arm draped over Javier's shoulders for support, you leaned heavily on him while Sadie took the lead, guiding your unsteady steps toward your tent. Arthur followed close from behind. The commotion drew the attention of several gang members, who watched in curious concern. Dutch and Hosea stood from their seats on the veranda, their eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"It's fine. I can do this." You tried to convince them. But they were having none of it.

Sadie gave you a stern look, her eyes unyielding. "You ain't in any condition to be actin' tough," she stated matter-of-factly.

Javier gently cut you off. "Stop being stubborn." He helped you inside, carefully setting you down on the bedroll. The dim interior was a stark contrast to the dying light outside. His eyes constantly darted from your face to the injury on your side. You began to instruct him, but your voice came out weaker than you had anticipated.

"Javier... get my bag," you whispered, grimacing from the pain.

He quickly did as he was told. As he started cleaning the wound, he looked up, his dark eyes searching yours for assurance. He tried to be gentle, but his uncertainty was evident.

"Easy there," you whispered, wincing slightly when he accidentally pressed a bit too close to the wound.

Javier's eyes widened in alarm. "Lo siento," he whispered apologetically. "I'm trying to be careful, but..."

"It's okay. Just listen, and I'll tell you what to do." Despite the pain, you gave him a small, reassuring smile.

Outside the tent, you could hear the faint murmurs of Sadie and Arthur's conversation, occasionally glancing inside to see how you were doing.

"Ain't' too bad for your first time, huh." Arthur quipped, peeking into the tent and handing you a flask of whiskey. You took a swig, the fiery liquid providing temporarily relief as it dulled the biting sting of your injury. You exhaled deeply, savouring the brief reprieve as Javier diligently tended to your wound.

"What the hell happened?!" John's voice was agitated, jolting you from your moment of respite, as he pushed past Arthur and Sadie to get a look at you. His eyes locked onto the wound, then Javier's hands, covered in your blood. His face contorted in anger and worry, and his eyes met yours for a brief moment. but it felt more like an eternity.

You did tell him last night you’d talk today, but you purposefully went out with Sadie (although at that point, you were oblivious to what she had planned all along) using it as a convenient excuse to avoid him.

"We got her, John," Arthur assured him, indicating that now might not be the best time for too many questions.

***

[maximumjinx]

Steven Universe Gravity Falls AU

~Yknow what they say, if you run out of content, ya gotta make it yourself. This is a ? shot (I might continue or not who knows not me) please don’t ask for more I have 18 unfinished fanfics on this site.~

California was nice, Steven had to admit. The people were nice, the food was fantastic, and the weather was splendid. It reminded him a lot of Beach City. Though there were just so many people, and traveling north, Steven was beginning to long for something small and simple again.

Oregon was the perfect place for that, right?

“Ronaldo wants pictures of Bigfoot, and if anyone can find him, its you Steven.” Petey’s voice was faint on Steven’s phone speaker, tossed into the passenger seat as Steven blindly picked a highway exit.

“Sure Petey, but couldn’t Ronaldo just go to a circus?”

“Not big feet Steven,” Petey emphasized, “Bigfoot.”

“Saying it twice isn’t helping buddy.” Steven was half paying attention. He was focusing on the winding roads and the looming trees surrounding him. Deep, in the pit of Steven’s stomach, he felt something start to tug him toward one direction farther away from the highway. He wasn’t quite sure if it was a good or bad feeling yet.

“Forget it, I’m going to take a blurry photo of that mean Gem in the woods and say its Bigfoot.”

“Just don’t let Jasper catch you, she’s no joke when she’s angry.”

“I saw her ripping grass out of the ground I think I’ll be fine. Later dude.”

Steven heard a small click and smiled to himself. He’s happy to see how far the people of Beach City have come and how they’ve taken to the gems. He remembers when the Crystal Gems were once the outcasts of town that locals warned you to stay away from.

He looked up to see a welcome sign.

“Gravity falls. Well, that’s a funny name.”

—

Steven wanted small and simple but he feels he may have overshot it.

This small town had exactly three attractions. A town museum that mentioned marrying woodpeckers (Steven couldn’t figure out if that was a normal human thing, like taxes and velcro), a small diner, and as one local described it ‘some tourist trap’ deep in the woods. It was a sticky summer day and the former two attractions didn’t have airconditioning. Steven gambled on the last stop in hopes of stretching his legs and maybe finding a source to the strange feeling in his gut. It had become much stronger since he entered this small town. Alluring, but nothing related to Gems as far as Steven could tell.

He parked in the nearly empty lot and stepped out. Jacket wrapped loosely around his hips, Steven made his way inside.

A girl that looked about 13 was petting a pig on the front porch. She was incredibly reflective, and depsite the heat wore a knitted bedazzled sweater that made her glow like a disco ball in the sun.

She looked Steven up and down as he approached, a wide smile taking up her face and Steven saw bright braces with colored bands.

“Hi!” She launched upwards, startling the pig away, “I’m Mabel, but you can call me anytime.” The girl winked and stuck out her hand, palm facing the floor.

Steven blinked.

“Mabel, stop scaring away the customers!” A gruff voice yelled through the screen door, and soon an older man stepped out in a suit, wearing a fez and eyepatch.

Immediately the old man squinted at Steven, sizing him up.

Stanley Pines knew this teen wasn’t local, but he wasn’t sure if he had any money. For all he knew he was another boy trying to hit on his giftshop cashier, Wendy.

Oh well, a customer is a customer.

“Come in, come in, and see our mystical and magical wonders!”

“Magical?” This could be it, Steven could figure out why this town has felt off. Maybe it was gem related after all.

Quickly this older man who had introduced himself as Mr. Mystery gave Steven a tour of what looked like failed taxidermy projects. Now Steven may have a lived a sheltered childhood, but he felt pretty confident there was no such thing as a Sashcrotch. And so far, nothing had felt magical or mysterious.

“That concludes our tour! Here is our mistifying giftshop and it’s purchasable wonders!”

“Right...” Well, at the very least he was able to spend some time in airconditioning.

There was a girl behind the desk in plaid that looked about Steven’s age, and just a half inch shorter than him. She looked bored, flipping through a magazine as a young boy that looked a lot like Mabel made googly eyes as he swept by the door.

Steven guessed there was no harm in asking around.

“Hi, I’m Steven.” He smiled easily, walking up to the register.

“No refunds, even if an exhibit bit you.” She sighed, peeking up before turning back to her magazine.

“Oh no, nothing bit me, I just wanted to know something.”

She looked up to get a better look at Steven and gave a small smirk.

“Sure, but only because I like your shirt. Mr. Universe merch, now that’s a deep cut.”

Unbeknownst to Steven, Dipper Pines would had been watching the exchange felt a twinge of uneasiness as this out of towner talked with Wendy.

“Have you ever seen anything strange or weird actually happen in this town?”

Wendy’s smile dropped.

“Why do you ask?” Her eyes flickered to Dipper, just for a moment, and that was all he needed to rush over.

“Excuse me sir, please buy something or exit the store.” Dipper spoke in the deepest voice he could muster.

Steven looked over with a questioning expression.

“Oh sure uh-“ He blindly reached for the wad of bills that his dad had given to him before he left. Steven pulled out a hundred dollar bill and put it on the counter. Wendy looked up baffled as Steven stuffed the other cash back in his wallet.

“Boy was I wrong about you kid!” Mr. Mystery, seemingly materializing out of nowhere, now bounded over. He had loosened his tie and lost the eyepatch which turned out he never needed.

“Whaddya wanna know? I’ll tell you everything. There’s gnomes in the woods you know-“

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper protested loudly, dragging his Stan away and harshly whispering at him.

“Did you steal that money?” Wendy asked as Steven watched the pair whisper fight in the corner. He turned back to the girl and gave a sheepish smile.

“Uh no, my dad gave it to me before this roadtrip. He’s actually Mr. Universe.”

Wendy lit up.

“No freaking way! Your dad is Mr. Universe? I only got into him since he managed Sadie Killer and the Suspects and they always perform covers of his songs on tour, I can’t believe he’s your dad!” She rambled, stars in her eyes. Steven beamed, he loved when people praised his dad’s music. Greg really deserved it.

Steven learned Wendy’s name and they swapped stories back and forth, only interrupted as the girl from outside slowly rose from the behind the counter beaming.

“A cute musician that loves weird stuff, take me now.” She swooned. Steven blushed profusely, not used to the attention.

“Sorry, my girlfriend Connie probably wouldn’t like that very much.” He said gently. Mabel looked him up and down and pouted.

“I can wait, but not forever.” She warned, and winked, bounding to break apart her grunkle and Dipper, who are now whisper screaming with arms flailing.

“I wasn’t going to mention that Dorito shaped jerk! Just the normal stuff!”

“It’s dangerous! He could be a spy, or government, or another stack of gnomes!”

Steven raised an eyebrow and looked at Wendy. She chuckled and shrugged. Steven carefully approached them.

“He can hear everything you’re saying anyways so might as well tell him!” Mabel interrupted, nodding towards Steven as he came up.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m definitely not government.” Steven technically didn’t exist at all. He never had a social security card and didn’t have a birth certificate.

Dipper only glared. Rich strangers with an interest in the paranormal didn’t come through gravity falls without some kind of agenda.

Steven hated the conflict he was starting. No information was worth this family fighting.

“Okay,” he surrendered, hands up, “I’ll just go. I’ll stick around town until tomorrow if you change your minds”

“Wait Steven-”

“Let him go Wendy,” Dipper glared as the boy in pink walked out, “We can’t trust him.”

“But I was going to ask for Sadie tickets...” Wendy groaned, defeated.

“There’s something weird about him.”

“Great!” Mabel beamed, “He’ll fit right in.”

~.~

Steven wasn’t crazy about sleeping in his car, but was seriously considering it after seeing the state of his motel room. It looked like it hadn’t been used in decades, a thin line of dust covering every surface. He was also pretty sure they didn’t even have free ice. 

“Wish Pearl were here..” He mumbled, exhausted. He curled up on top of the covers, fully clothed, and let sleep take him.

Being Steven Universe however, meant rest was sure to allude the half alien. 

Steven found himself in a dark space, fog all around him. Before a word could come out of his mouth he heard a fast, repetitive muttering. 

“Stranger...Wendy looked pretty today..Can’t trust...Tell no one...Ford isn’t here..”

“What, the-” Steven quietly walked toward the source of dialogue, and saw the faded silhouette of the boy from the Mystery Shack. His back was turned to him, but Steven recognized the blue vest and mosquito bitten legs. 

“I thought I was over the dream hopping.” Steven spoke a tad too loudly, starting the young boy - Dipper.

“What-” Dipper’s eyes grew wide in panic, and the boy fell back harshly.

“No, no, you can’t be in my head!” 

“Wait, I’m not-” Steven tried to reassure him, stepping carefully towards the boy but Dipper let out a screech of terror, sweat gathering around his temples.

“Bill sent you didn’t he?! He’s not really gone- he’s going to hurt Mable again-” Dipper began to hyperventilate. 

“Dipper please,” Steven took a step back, arms in the air in surrender. 

“I-”

“I’m not going to hurt you I swear on the gems.” He placed a hand over his heart. “This is a total invasion of privacy but it’s something that happens when someone’s emotions are out of control-”

“How are you here?” Dipper demanded, scrambling to his feet. “Tell me what you are and what you want.”

“I’m just passing through!” Steven insisted, then lowered his tone to calm the younger boy. “I’m kinda of magnet for weird stuff. I just wanted to help in case anything was going on.”

“We deal with things just fine around here.” Dipper spat, then watched as Steven deflated. He seemed tired, like he hasn't slept well in a while. 

“So what are you anyways? How can you be here?”

Steven winced, and laughed nervously. “It’s kind of a long story..”

Dipper raised and eyebrow and swept his arm around the void dramatically. 

“You have until dawn.”

~

“I thought that was a conspiracy theory, it wasn’t even covered by major news outlets.” Dipper look exhausted, cross legged on the unseen floor as he ran his hands through his hair. 

“I think Garnet is pretty persuasive when it comes to government and reporters. They all kinda fall in love with her.”

“She’s the one that’s really two aliens?” 

Steven shook his head with a small smile. “It’s hard to explain but yes, I guess that comes close.”

“That’s actually insane. I’m insane, aren’t I?” Dipper stood up, leaving Steven on sitting next to an empty space. “It’s been too quiet around here and now I’m so desperate for weird, that I’m making it all up in my head.”

“I get that feeling.” Steven smiled without humor, “but no, this is real. I’ll prove it when you wake up.” Steven felt a shift, the fog in the void getting denser. 

“Sooner than I thought, you’re an early riser huh?”

Dipper looked back at Steven, panicked. “You’ll come to the Shack again right? In just a bit?”

Steven smiled. “Promise.”

~

Dipper woke up to his sister braiding his hair. Mabel still had her pjs on, and a make up kit next to the bed. Dipper frowned, tasting strawberry shortcake. 

“Stop testing party looks on me, Mabel.”

“Stop having my face structure and maybe I will.” She grinned, covered in blue glitter. 

Dipper quickly washed up and got dressed for the day, feeling like he was anxiously waiting for something but not quite remembering what. 

He felt like he had a strange dream last night...

He quickly remembered, choking on cereal as Steven walked into the shack right as it opened. Hair slightly frizzy from the heat and eyes strangely tired. Maybe dream hopping took energy that he anticipated. 

“Steven!”

“Meal ticket!” 

“Grunkle Stan.” Mabel chastised as Dipper rushed over to the older boy. 

“Good morning everyone.” 

Dipper stopped short, slightly hoping that everything he experienced wasn’t just his imagination. That everything exciting and weird and interesting wasn’t always trying to kill him, ruin his life, or steal his candy. 

Steven looked tired, like he had been doing this much longer than Dipper, but he had still come out with enough energy to smile. 

“Not insane?” Dipper asked hopefully, quietly. Steven snapped his attention from his Grunkle and Mable bickering down to the Dipper. He gave a reassuring smile, eyes quite serious. 

“Not insane.”

[lady-grae]

My Laughter, All For You

Prologue

Word Count: 1,710 words

Warnings: N/A

I have been working on this for the past week, trying to perfect it as much as possible. Honestly, I’m really proud of myself because this is the most I’ve ever written for a topic that is not considered educational in nature. I almost wish I could have this energy every time I write essays for classes. Anyway, I hope whoever reads this likes it! Enjoy!

Sadie sat in front of her vanity, deep in thought. In front of her sat a letter, worn from constant folding and unfolding. I should’ve kept my mouth shut that night, she thought as, for the countless time, she unfolded it once again to read its contents. Some of the ink had been smudged by her fingers, but she could still recognize the immaculate writing of her brother Lewis. 

Dear Sadie, it started:

A little birdie told me that you were thinking about moving to Gotham, possibly alone. What were you even thinking?! You know our mother would never rest comfortably if something were to happen to you! God knows that she would never let me hear the end of it.

I may have an idea that would work out for all parties: why don’t you come work at my toy company for a while? We may not be as famous as the Wayne family, but we’re slowly making a name for ourselves. Plus, I know you would enjoy working with all the children at events. Trust me on this, I don’t see how this couldn’t work out!

I know our cousin Rebecca has been looking for a roommate after her last living situation ended in a disaster (I still don’t know what happened, but maybe she’ll tell you). She’ll be so excited to have you around, you two always got along well when we were kids. I’ll be waiting for your response; don’t keep me waiting too long.

Your Big Brother, 

Lewis

P.S. If you don’t reply back within the week, I’ll just assume you’re staying home. Maybe it would be better that way. I don’t want to be keeping track of you constantly.

“Eugh,” Sadie groaned at that last part, and thumped her head down on the vanity. “I love you Lewis, but sometimes you can be a real ass.” She tossed the letter aside and stood up from the vanity. She walked over to the window, brushing aside the curtains. Outside, the towering skyscrapers and sooty grey sky of Gotham coldly greeted her.

Gotham. A cruel city filled with cruel people who, if given the chance, would quite literally throw someone under the subway train to get ahead. A city where a beating or mugging took place down nearly every alleyway, even during the day. At the moment a steady rain was falling from the sky, coating everything it touched in a dirty wet sheen. In the street three stories below, Sadie saw the flashing lights of a police car rush by, most likely on way to another murder.

Sadie hadn’t really wanted to move here; drunk one night with a friend, she had concocted a half-assed plan to move out of the house. But of course, word spread quickly among her social circle, and before she could do any damage control her brother had caught wind of it. When he had sent his letter, she had almost ignored his offer. If he couldn’t even bother to discuss this with her in person, why should she answer him? Besides, she had wanted to chart her own course in the world. But she needed money for that, and after recently completing graduate school with zero future job prospects, she knew she could not pass up the opportunity. So now, a few weeks later, here she was, living with their lovable and hyper cousin Rebecca.

A rapid knocking at the bedroom door made Sadie jump back from the window. “Come on, Sadie, we wouldn’t want to be late for your first real night here in Gotham!” a voice called from the other side.

“Just a minute!” Sadie answered back. Rebecca: now she was made for the hustle and bustle of Gotham. Sadie honestly did not know where she got all her energy from; it was so hard to keep her in one place for very long. Yet she could not deny Becca’s energy was at times contagious.

Sadie gave herself a quick glance over in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her wavy chin length dark auburn hair, noting it was just a little curlier than usual. The eyeliner around her hazel blue eyes was also a little smudged, but it would have to do. It would probably be wiped away by the end of the night anyway.

She looked down at the letter one last time. I hope I made the right choice in coming here, she thought. I guess I’ll just have to see what’s in store for me out there. She grabbed her pea coat from off the bed and left for a night on the town.

--------

Already out in the rainy Gotham night, Arthur Fleck slowly trudged along, his head hanging low. He had had another long, hard day at work; Randall had been nonstop in his teasing, driving Arthur to more than one uncontrollable laughing fit. And to make matters worse, some teenage boys at his job site had mocked his dancing, pushing him around a few times before finally growing bored and walking away. Try as he might to keep a happy face on after that, he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and disappear.

As he continued walking home, Arthur kept his head down, both to avoid the rain and the eyes of strangers, and smoked another cigarette. The sidewalks were mostly empty, and the few people who were out brushed past him, their nights just as eventful as their days. One man bumped shoulders with him, even though he clearly had plenty of room to walk around. “Watch it, buddy,” the man growled, giving Arthur a menacing look. Arthur picked up his pace, slumping as far as he comfortably could into himself.

Suddenly, as he was nearing a street corner, he saw a blur rush by him: a young woman, dressed for a night of partying. “Come on! You better catch up!” she called back, laughing breathlessly as she continued running. He turned his head to briefly watch her pass; big mistake, for he heard a second pair a footsteps approaching fast.

“Becca, wait up!” another woman yelled. “Don’t-OOF!” As he rounded the corner, Arthur didn’t have enough time to step aside as the second young woman ran head on into him. They both fell to the ground, his cigarette flying into the air and her purse falling behind him. The wind firmly knocked out of him, Arthur managed to pull himself up on his elbows as the young woman did the same. 

Arthur glanced worriedly at her, waiting for the screaming and kicking to begin, the profanities to be hurled his way. A few small laughs left his mouth as his nerves started to get the best of him.

“Oh my goodness, are you okay?!” the woman asked him, her voice filled with-genuine concern? His head whipped up fast, his eyes catching hers and the laughter dying in his throat as shock filled his body. He noticed she had blue eyes and wavy dark hair surrounding her face. She didn’t look angry with him, but actually worried.

--------

Sadie pulled herself up from the ground, still holding the eyes of the man in front of her. He had beautiful green eyes and brown hair damp from the rain. He actually looked scared of her, like she might do or say something horrible to him. She held out her hand to him. “Here, let me help you,” she said, smiling down at him. 

He looked at her hand for several moments, and she was almost afraid he would say no when he hesitantly reached out and grabbed it. She helped pull him on his feet; he seemed to weigh almost nothing, and she noticed he was very slender. They were still looking at each other, each trying to feel the other out for signs of anger.

The man cleared his throat and nodded, looking away. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he answered in a quiet, scratchy voice. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” He laughed nervously, then started coughing, throwing his hand up to his mouth and turning away from her. 

“No, it was my fault,” Sadie protested. “I was the one running.” He still seemed to be fighting between laughing and coughing; strange, but not freaky. Perhaps he was just shaken from the fall.

Just then she realized she was no longer holding onto her bag. “Oh shit, my bag,” she said, turning around in a circle where she stood. When she turned back, she saw that he had bent down and was picking up her bag, which had somehow fallen behind him.

“Here, miss,” he said, holding it out to her. He glanced up and smiled at her sheepishly. He seemed to have stopped coughing/laughing.

“Oh thank you so much,” she said, being careful not to grab it from him too sharply. 

“It’s not a problem,” he replied, rocking back on his feet, putting his hands behind his back.

“Sadie!” Becca screamed. Sadie saw her running back up the street towards them.

“I’ve got to go,” Sadie said to him. “Please be safe going home, sir.” She smiled one last time at him before walking to meet Becca.

“You too,” she heard him say softly as he also quickly turned to walk away.

“Oh my god, was that guy bothering you?” Becca asked her, worry and anger lacing her voice.

“No, it was my fault,” Sadie looked back one more time to see his hunched figure moving around the corner. “Let’s go. And no running this time, please. I’m tired.” She linked arms with Becca as they resumed, walking this time, to their destination.

--------

Arthur sighed in relief; he had at least managed to keep his nerves from fully getting the best of him. He hated his laughing episodes and how they made people stare at him, especially in front of women like her-Sadie. He recalled how she had actually been kind to him, unlike majority of the people in this city. Unfortunately, he knew that he would most definitely never see her again. Shaking himself off from the memories of her lovely face, he continued walking home, not realizing how far from the truth he really was.

[squidproquoclarice]

Do you think Arthur was originally intended to survive? I think he was and I feel like there are signs pointing to it but I love your opinions on things. If you think he was originally intended to survive, what do you think prompted r* to change that and kill him off? Personally I think the story would have been better if he'd lived but that's just me.

I do feel like at some point there was intent for him to survive.  The cut New Austin content could have been either part of our currently strangely short Chapter 5, or possibly part of a “Chapter 7″ post-TB recovery.  The Mount Hagen mission to get Micah feels like it was written for Arthur.  Sadie, his “I would ride with you again, if you will ride with me” likely wife by that point, and Charles, his “I’ll always ride with you�� brother?  It makes a lot more sense for it to be those three (or four, if you include John) than John’s looser ties to Sadie, and Charles.  Micah’s unfinished personal business for Arthur, not John, and it becomes fulfilling a debt of honor in that case, not a mission of vengeance.  The bounty hunting missions with Sadie are smoother if it’s a Sadie/Arthur partnership rather than Sadie dragging John away from Beecher’s Hope for it, to Abigail’s reluctance.I’m guessing they chose to kill him off because of a few reasons.  RDR1 hemmed them in with no mention of Arthur, and “tragic death” was the easiest answer to that, plus they’d established “tragic death” ending with John there.  They’d also set up a storyline for Arthur where he’s a changed man, but there’s a lot left to his story to do it justice, so to keep him alive would have needed a lot more storyline, and it’s already a long game.  Plus yeah, if they’re following an established retributive justice “there is no outrunning your sins” mentality like they did with John, Arthur had to die.  Which I find funny because Arthur seems easily and clearly set up for a restorative justice “balancing the scales” storyline with his personal growth.  John’s desire in the end was to live a peaceful life and do right by his family.  But Arthur actually wanted to help people and do good things in the world.  So while I respect Rockstar’s writing as respectful of his character--especially compared to the contemporaneous utter wasteful death of another guilt-ridden redemptive protagonist in Garcia Flynn over in Timeless--and they made his death beautifully tragic and poignant, I firmly argue that it wasn’t necessary.  Arthur’s redemption wasn’t his sacrifice for John’s family, the way John’s sacrifice for Jack and Abigail is in 1911.  His redemption was all the steps he took along the way to recognize the man he wanted to be, all the people he helped simply because he wanted to do it.And I think there’s an even more powerful story in saying that his journey didn’t end on that mountainside.  That was just the beginning, with him finally breaking free of loyalty to Dutch and his old life once and for all.  He’s made a choice, but he still has a long way to go.  Physically, he’s sick, and TB isn’t a “rest for three weeks and you’re fine” thing.  Those of you reading Sunrise have seen what TB recovery is like--six weeks in and he’s confined to bed rest.  He’ll get to go on a trip to Chuparosa in chapter 9 like five months after that final fight and that’s going to be the most excitement he’s had since he got to Mexico.  It’s going to be a long, slow recovery process.And emotionally and psychologically, it’s a long, slow recovery process too.  He’s had a horrible 1899.  He’s had a horrible life.  He’s got to deal with all of that and put it in its proper place.  He’s got to face all the bad he’s done in his life and somehow get to a place where the good he’s done outweighs that.  He’s 36 years old, has known nothing in his life but criminal pursuits that he’s now rejecting, and now he’s being challenged to figure out what he wants and who he is.  Easier to do that when it was figuring out some things he wanted to do before he died of TB, and he could make it all about what good he could do for others with the time he had left.  Now he has to balance debts of honor against the idea of what he owes himself, and that’s never been a question he’s asked himself, because he hasn’t believed he owes himself anything.  But unless he wants to become someone who missed sacrificing himself on a Roanoke Ridge mountain only to quickly sacrifice himself in some other righteous pursuit, he has to find space for believing he deserves things.  He has to come to terms with himself, learn to accept and even love himself, to find out exactly what he believes and what he wants.And that?  That makes one hell of a powerful story, even more so than a fatal sacrifice.  But it would have required a lot more length of story to do it right rather than just skipping to “Yay, Arthur survived!” and some of that journey doesn’t translate as well into action-based missions.  Though Rockstar set fine groundwork there anyway with some quiet, peaceful missions, and even with meaningful character dialogues on the way to and from action-oriented missions.  When it comes to Sunrise, if “build a house at Beecher’s Hope”, “go fishing”, and “take Abigail on a date and propose to her” are missions in RDR2, then something like “Sadie drives to Chuparosa with Sister Calderon” or ”Arthur visits Buell in the stables”/”waiting for midnight and 1900 and stargazing” is absolutely a valid mission.So Rockstar took a logical road, but I do think they took the easy road rather than the truly rewarding one of fully developing the journey of an amazing character.  So until they make a DLC with an alternate ending that does that job, I’ll do my best for it with Sunrise.  ;)  

[tailahjanbash]

Maker Of My Dreams

My name is Tailah. I was practically born in a church pew, and God has played a significant role in my life as far back as my memory will take me. You’d think after 21 years of being in the church I’d either be some kind of minister or insanely bored of hearing the same stories over and over, but neither of those happened.

After serving Jesus for nearly a decade now, I’ve found that doing life with him is nothing short of an adventure.

I think Christians get a bad rep. They supposedly aren’t allowed to have fun, go out, or live life fully—the world paints a picture of people in turtlenecks and pilgrim skirts, trapped in a stuffy chapel while the rest of the human population experiences freedom. Christians are slaves to their impossible standards of righteousness and trapped by their pious morals. The rest of the world is free to act upon their every desire and chase happiness to their heart’s content.

In my opinion, this is one of the biggest lies and delusions Satan hides behind.

People who act upon every compulsive desire or sin actually enslave themselves under the delusion that they are free. They are slaves to their desires, appetites, and emotions. Jesus offers us freedom from guilt, shame, sin, and death. He provides hope when we see no way out, refreshment when we cannot go on, and peace when everything around us is falling apart.

These were some of the things I grew up hearing in church, but it wasn’t until my faith met my actions that I truly experienced this.

Today, I want to talk to you about the latest adventure Jesus and I went on, in hopes to inspire you and remind you that God is the maker of your dreams.

This past summer, I was feeling trapped and unhappy with where I worked. Simultaneously, I was feeling a strong pull in my heart to pursue a job working in the music industry, which has been my dream since I was twelve years old.  After a lot of hard decisions, The Lord basically set up circumstances so I had to leave my job. I was scared of the unknown, but I knew in my heart it was time for me to stop meeting everyone else’s expectations for my life and chase my dreams.

I reached out to my friend Alyssa who had worked for a local record label. She forwarded my resume to a few contacts. I prayed for a month. Nothing happened.

I continued to pray and refused to give up—I babysat, sold paintings, and took some odd jobs in the meantime. The whole summer went on like this, until a few weeks before the start of fall semester.

I spent one Sunday night deep in prayer. I had been worshipping, praying, breaking things over my life. Then I spoke God’s favor, blessings, and open doors over myself and into existence.

Suddenly my phone lit up. Alyssa texted me in that moment and asked if I had found an internship yet. I quickly responded and told her that I hadn’t had any luck. She informed me that she had two more contacts and she would follow through with them both.

Long story short, I sent both companies my resume and immediately got booked for job interviews. I realized the power and importance of prayer. All the while, the Lord was reminding me that He opens and shuts every key and open door in my life.

There was one company that was super glamorous—they worked with high profile celebrities in Pop and Rap music and offered me a position with them on the spot. Everyone told me to take it.

The other company was a Christian artist management company. God made it super clear to me years ago, that my calling and vocation was in Christian ministry and entertainment, not secular.

As if that choice weren’t hard enough, there was one more problem: there were other people interviewing for the Christian company, and they were not able to give me an answer for at least a few more weeks. In other words, I had to choose on the spot, not knowing if I would get the internship I desired in my heart.

I wrestled with faith and doubt. With what I could see with the calling and dreams that God had placed in my heart.

After spending (a LOT of) time in prayer, I decided that I had to step out in faith. I called the company that offered me the job in secular music and politely declined their offer.

I was terrified that I had ruined my career before it even began, but in my spirit, I felt a sense of relief.

I had just sacrificed my Isaac, and I was low-key expecting a call from the Christian company effective immediately. I mean, I had just sacrificed SO much for God. He can’t keep me waiting forever, right?!

But then crickets.

And some more crickets.

I prayed daily and before I knew it, a month had passed.

I accepted the fact that maybe this wasn’t for me, released it, and thanked God anyways because He is always good, even when we don’t get what we want how we want it.

I kid you not the very. next. day. I got the phone call! They offered me the position and when I say God worked out every single detail, I’m not kidding. I had some issues registering for classes and could only sign up for Monday/Wednesday/Friday classes, which were the days I wanted to work. But the company ended up needing me for Tuesdays and Thursdays! Every last detail—down to my daily schedule to the hour—fell together perfectly, because when God does something, He goes all out. He fine tunes every detail and orchestrates every aspect so that He may receive the glory!

That fall I got to work for an amazing company called Redjett. My co-workers were the kindest ever and I learned so much about the industry I love. I got to work for Lauren Daigle, Hollyn, Sadie Robertson, Cody Carnes, and Chris McKlarney! I got to see behind the scenes of touring, worship events, music releases, huge ministries, and so much more. I will never forget the feeling of walking into those offices every morning, looking at the platinum records on the wall, and feeling that bliss excitement and song in my heart screaming, “You are exactly where you need to be.”

And to think… I almost settled because of doubt. I almost missed out on an amazing opportunity that affirmed my calling.

What are you holding back from due to fear of failure? Don’t let that stop you in 2019.

When people see the favor, open doors, and fullness of our lives as Christ followers, they can’t help but ask—what is it about you that makes you so different?

How are you so peaceful in the face of life’s storms?

How are you so full of joy in such painful circumstance?

The truth is we have a hope and a freedom that surpasses anything that this world can offer. The sooner we latch on to that, the easier it is to leave fear behind, trust God, and step into the fullness of your calling.

God not only cares about your dreams, He’s actually the author of them. He planted those dream-seeds in your heart. It is our decision what we do with them. When we do not wait for His perfect timing—His proper seasons, pruning, growth, and rain, we prematurely uproot and abort our dreams. If He allows the dream to grow, because we insisted on growing them ourselves, we fail to use the plant to its proper ability and design, and the harvest is lacking or unfulfilling. But when we allow The Father to give us the proper instructions, we grow beautiful, healthy crops that reap a harvest that exceeds our highest expectation!

Remember how I told you the people who live for their own desires are actually slaves to them? They are unfulfilled because they are trying to fill a God-sized hole in their heart with themselves. Their own dreams or desires. When you worship yourself and your own dreams, they actually never satisfy you.

This is because God created your dreams, calling, and heart. Therefore, He is the only one who understand how to satisfy and fulfill it. So today, trust in the promise that He is the maker and the keeper of your dreams and when you fix our eyes upon Him and not what He can give, He will exceed your wildest imaginations.

I want you to picture yourself standing before God, with your dreams in your hands. Now imagine yourself reaching up, and handing those dreams over to Him. God looks at you, with the warmest smile, then takes the dreams in His hands. He turns around, puts them inside of a beautiful treasure chest, and picks up something else inside that he has been waiting your whole life to give you. What He pulls out, is radiating light, ten times bigger, and tailor made just for you. They are His dreams and plans for you that He hand-crafted all the way back when you were being formed by Him in your mother’s womb!

These are the dreams and plans that will fulfill your purpose and calling on this earth. They incorporate every aspect of who you are and the special, uniquely designed you! And they are better than any dream you could ever imagine. But in order to receive them, you first have to hand over your will and the dreams you have. He won’t throw them away. He will be gentle, and place them in His beautiful treasure chest, and give you something even better!

Why do we have to surrender our dreams to the Lord? Well, sacrifice is God’s love language. God asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, to show that the gift was not more treasured in his heart than the Gift Giver. Jesus even sacrificed his own life for you on the cross so you wouldn’t have to experience separation from God the Father.

Even the king and creator of the universe is not exempt from the sacrificial nature of love and relationship. The remarkable thing, is that in every case, God rewards the hearts of those who gave up themselves and their dreams up for His sake, and gave them back more than they could ever fathom possible!

Rest in the goodness of God. Rest in the fact that He is LOVE and will never hurt you, keep your dreams from you, or control you. Don’t let any fear bully you or keep you from the wild, crazy, God-dreams of your heart.

“Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever.” Ephesians 3:20

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28

You can access more posts, devotionals, prayers & more on my website:

http://thechosengirl.info/

[joeybelle]

Oh, how the tables have turned -- Part 4

Clyde Logan x Reader

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

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

Rating: Mature

Setting: Pre-Heist

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

A.N: Aaaaand part 4 is here, hope you guys enjoy it!

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

“Yep,” he said, not looking me in the eye.

“Okay.” I grinned and turned to look at the booth, scanning the toys on display. To be honest, none of them caught my eye, but I really wanted Clyde to win me one.

“Get her the big one,” Jimmy butted in after placing Sadie back on the ground, pointing to a giant white teddy bear with a checkered bow under his chin that was placed above the other toys.

“Do you want that one?” Clyde asked me and I shrugged. I didn’t really care, since it wasn’t about the toy.

“Any of them is fine, really.”

“Okay.”

“You need to hit those ten targets for the big one. Bullseye,” said the man behind the counter, annoyance clearly visible on his face. By the way he frowned he didn’t seem to be used to people winning his game that easily.

Clyde paid the fee and took the rifle once again. This time he used his prosthetic arm for added stability and took his time to aim. My breath caught in my throat with every shot and with every fallen target my excitement grew. Bullseye after bullseye until the seventh target didn’t fall. It was weird, because I was pretty sure it was also a bullseye. Clyde frowned, just as confused as me, but proceeded to hit the other targets.

“Well, better luck next time,” the man said, with a satisfied grin on his face, extending his hand to take the gun back from Clyde.

“I want another round,” Clyde said, pushing the money towards him.

“Uuuh… maybe we should let someone else try?” the man tried getting away from this. He seemed like a really unpleasant person. “It’s a kid’s game after all.”

“Really?” Jimmy asked, leaning on the counter. “Cause I don’t see any sign sayin’ ‘you gotta be this old to shoot’. And his money was good enough the first three rounds.”

“Well, you see…”

“No, I don’t see,” he cut him off, and for a moment his voice became pretty threatening. “Let him try again, he’s got a girl to impress.”

I knew I was blushing so I pretended to be very interested in the contents of another booth, missing the rest of the conversation. When I was sure that my cheeks had somewhat regained their normal colour, Clyde was ready to shoot once again. This time, he aimed for the seventh target alone. Ten shots later, one more precise than the other, and the target was still standing.

“The spring is too strong for the power of this rifle. No matter how many times you shoot it won’t budge.”

“It’s not true, maybe you didn’t hit it right in the center.”

“I’m sure I did,” he said and for the first time his voice took on a menacing tone.

“Really, old man? Have you seen him shoot? I can guarantee that he landed every shot.”

“The target’s still standing, there’s nothing...”

“Do you want me to bring a real gun, I’ve got one in my car. See if your targets still stands then. But you gotta hope he doesn’t miss and lands one in that crusty ass of yours.” He seemed really serious this time so I decided it was time to intervene before shit hit the fan. Both brothers seemed really stubborn, and I could understand why, but it just wasn’t worth it. Everyone knew these games were rigged, and it’s not like I really wanted that toy.

I walked over to Clyde and placed my hand on his elbow to get his attention. He looked at me and the tense expression on his face loosened up a bit. “It’s ok,” I said softly, trying to get him to calm down. “I don’t really need the toy. I’m already impressed so no need to get into an argument for this.”

“Give him the damn bear, or I’m setting your booth on fire,” I heard Jimmy snarl, and my jaw dropped. So much for trying to de-escalate the situation.

“You can’t do that,” the man laughed, but there was fear in his eyes.

“Try me.”

The vendor looked from Jimmy to Clyde, who had a steely expression on his face, to me, still clinging onto Clyde’s elbow like a scared mouse, to Mellie who had a mocking smile on her face. Sadie was the only one who was hugging her toy and didn’t seem to give a damn. The man sighed and muttered an array of curses, but took the bear and threw it on the counter.

“Take it and get lost! I don’t wanna see any of you ever again!” he spat and turned his back to us.

I realized I was still clinging to Clyde’s arm when he moved to place the rifle on the counter so I let go. I was so close I could smell his cologne and it send a shiver down my spine. He didn’t seem to notice as he grabbed the bear so I did my best not to appear flustered when he returned.

“Here you go,” he said, handing me the giant teddy, his face calm once again, like he hadn’t been ready to snap that man’s neck just a few moments before. I cheerfully thanked him and took the toy.

The bear was huge. It might not have been as tall as me, but it was definitely much wider. I struggled to hold it, trying my best not to drag its feet on the ground and mess up its pristine, white coat. With it in my arms I couldn’t see the ground I was walking on and nearly stepped on Sadie who was laughing at me the whole time.

“I think it’s better if I carry that,” Clyde said, taking the bear from my grasp. He was taller, so the toy didn’t seem to smother him like it did to me. He grabbed it by the bow and flung it over his shoulder like a duffle bag.

“Thanks,” I said, able to breathe once again, “but now I should be going. I still have a lot of things to do today and I have work tomorrow, so…”

The whole outing ended up being much longer than the half an hour I had promised in the beginning, but I didn't mind. I had some time to catch up with Mellie as we were stuffing our faces and I was pleasantly surprised that we still got along pretty well. Sadie was a sweetheart and despite finding him a little annoying at first, Jimmy was really nice too. His sense of humour was a little blunt and sometimes pretty acid, but I liked him. Clyde kept his distance most of the time, and didn’t talk to me that much, but I guessed that was just how he was. He didn’t really seem bothered by my presence, so I just assumed he was a bit more of the introverted type. But no matter how much I enjoyed it, it was time for me to go home.

“Alright,” Clyde said, and for the first time no one argued. “I’ll walk you to your car.” At first I wanted to protest because I’m a big girl and I can see myself to the car, but then I realized that if a cute guy wants to walk with me, why should I refuse? After all, I really liked him and this was a chance to spend five minutes alone with him. Yes, I knew nothing would happen, but my brain latched onto any tiny amount of hope.

“Don’t forget to call about the roof,” Jimmy said, picking Sadie up and giving her a kiss.

I’d completely forgotten about the roof. “Yeah, I will give you a call the moment I know when I’m free,” I lied and ruffled Sadie’s hair. I told her she could come visit me anytime she wanted, to help me find the blueberry bushes in the chaos that was currently my garden. Mellie gave me a hug and promised she’d call when she had some time off so we’d get coffee together and catch up on things.

I turned to look at Clyde and burst out laughing at how comical he looked with his serious face and the head of the bear peeking over his shoulder. “I kinda see a resemblance between the two of you,” I said, pointing towards the bear’s nose, making Clyde turn his head to look at it. “I think I’ll name it ‘Clyde The Bear’, whatcha say, Sadie?”

“Yesss!” she laughed, and Clyde the Human frowned at the both of us.

“Well, take care of both of them,” Jimmy said with a wink, before being dragged by Sadie to another attraction.

“Bye, sweetie,” Mellie waved and followed her brother.

So now it was just me and Clyde and I had a feeling it was going to get awkward fast, so I started walking towards where I remembered parking my car earlier that day. Clyde followed me closely, like a big and benevolent shadow.

“Are you really gonna name it Clyde the Bear?” he asked out of the blue.

“Yeah. I mean, if it doesn’t bother you.”

“No, it doesn’t bother me,” he said and he had the tiniest of smiles on his face.

“Ok then, Clyde the Bear it is,” I said with a grin, but he looked away.

He was silent the rest of the way to my car. I unlocked it and he shoved the giant toy in the backseat, making sure to position it so that I could still use my rearview mirror. I was getting ready to thank him and say goodbye when he spoke again.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said, passing a hand through his hair.

“For what?” I was genuinely confused. He’d already apologized for Jimmy kidnapping me for the day, and I really hoped he noticed that I was having a really good time so he wouldn’t start again.

“For being rude to you. Last time, at the bar…” He seemed really nervous once again.

“You weren’t being rude,” I said, suddenly nervous myself. “I crossed some boundaries without realizing. And I may have also overreacted a bit. The exit might have a bit more dramatic than necessary,” I mumbled.

“Anyway,” he said, and it seemed like he was making a conscious effort to force the words out of his mouth. “I’m gonna be at the bar later if you wanna drop by and have some drinks. On the house, of course,” he added, increasingly flustered.

This was getting tricky, because I didn’t really know if he was asking me out or just trying to make it up to me for the rejection. I knew I could always ask, but given the way he reacted to me asking him out the last time, the direct approach didn’t seem to be the best idea. So now I really didn’t know if he was interested or not, but I decided to go with the flow. If he liked me, he’d tell me at some point and if not, I’d still make a friend, and that was great. Just don’t fall too deep.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to drop by tonight,” I told him, truthfully. “I still have a lot of things to do and an early class tomorrow, but can I take a rain check on that?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. You’re always welcome to come over. Anytime you want.”

“Perfect, thank you.” I smiled. He was really cute when he was flustered like that.

I said goodbye and got in my car. He followed me with his gaze until I left the parking lot, and even then I could still see his outline in the rearview mirror. A gentle giant in the sea of parked vehicles, watching over me. It made me smile.

I don’t really know how I got home, because my mind was full of Clyde Logan and replays of every little detail of what happened earlier that day. I really hoped I hadn’t ran anyone over with my car, because I was pretty sure I didn’t need the jail time.

I pulled Clyde the Bear out of the backseat and kicked the door shut, almost stumbling down in the process. I was surprised to notice that it faintly smelled like Clyde’s cologne. While I was planning to shove it in the washing machine the moment I got home I was starting to have second thoughts.

I went straight to my bedroom and threw the bear onto my bed, then after a few seconds of pondering I plopped down next to it. I was so tired. It ended up being really fun day, despite the odds, but it left me drained of energy. Walking around and eating all that crap had taken a toll on me, but I was sure that if I only closed my eyes and rested for ten minutes I’d be able to finish the chores for the day. And who knows, maybe even grab a beer at Clyde’s bar later that night.

When I woke up it was already dark. I had to fish the phone out of my pocket to see how late it actually was. Ten thirty. Crap. Double crap. I hadn’t planned on falling asleep at all, let alone for so many hours, still dressed in my day clothes, in the most uncomfortable position ever. Every inch of my body hurt.

I crawled over to the bathroom and peeled off my clothes, discarding them in the already full laundry basket. I had laundry to do. Well, it was too late for that now, but luckily I still had some clean work clothes for the next day. I was running out of underwear though. I stepped into the shower, hoping that the water would help clear the brain fog the impromptu nap had left behind. Even if I skipped doing the laundry, I still had a mountain of dishes left to fester in the kitchen sink. I had nothing prepared for tomorrow’s lunch so I’d have to either starve or eat out, and since my budget was running tight, I couldn’t really afford to eat out if I wanted to buy groceries this week. And speaking of groceries, there wasn’t much left in the fridge anyway, so I’d have to make do with just toast and coffee in the morning. I hadn’t vacuumed. I hadn’t cleaned the bathroom. There was a report that I promised I’d start working on today. I was screwed.

I spent the next fifteen minutes just laying down on my bed, wrapped in a towel, completely overwhelmed. I didn’t even know where to start, so in the heat of the moment I decided to just not do any of it. In a burst of energy given by the power of insanity I threw the towel on the floor and rummaged through my closet, looking for anything clean. I got dressed in a hurry—after all, I had no idea at what hour the bar was closing and tomorrow was a work day—grabbed my purse and was out the door without even looking back at my forgotten responsibilities. I didn’t take the car, instead I walked. It was only a fifteen minute walk at most, and I wanted to enjoy the cool night air.

The bar was surprisingly lively when I entered. There were a lot more people than the last time I’d been there, watching a game on the flat screen tv. There were a few people seated at the bar, so I chose to sit in a corner, as far away from the others as possible.

“Finished all your work?” Clyde asked from the other side of the counter.

“Yeah, yeah,” I lied, but couldn’t keep a straight face. “By which I mean I fell asleep the moment I got home and napped until like half an hour ago and did absolutely nothing.” Clyde laughed and it was the first time I’d heard him laugh out loud. “So I did what every responsible adult would do in this situation: went out for a drink.”

“What can I get you?”

“I don’t know. A beer?” I shrugged.

“It’s on the house, are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“Hmm… I think I’ll trust my bartender then,” I said, flashing him one of my best smiles.

“Another cocktail or something stronger this time?” he asked, placing a napkin in front of me.

“I walked here, and since I know I won’t fall asleep after that nap, I might as well get shitfaced and faint instead. Gimme something strong.”

“Alright,” he said, placing two shot glasses on the counter, one in front of me and one in front of himself. He chose a bottle from the rack behind me and filled the glasses. “Cheers,” he said, lifting his glass.  

I imitated him, downing my own drink. The sudden burn of the alcohol running down my throat made me grimace, no matter how much I tried keeping a straight face. He just smirked.

“Is it better or worse than your expensive vodka?” he asked, the smirk still playing on his lips. He seemed a lot more open and in a much better mood than he was earlier that day, something that made me think the shot of vodka he had shared with me wasn’t the first one of the night. But I wasn’t complaining, not at all. Anything that kept the smile on his face was good by me. He was much cuter when he smiled.

“I have no idea, to be honest. I only drink for the buzz, the drink itself doesn't really matter. Besides, I’ve been drinking cheap alcohol for so long that I think I’ve fried my tastebuds already.”

“Well then, maybe you should start drinking better alcohol,” he said, this time chilling the vodka over ice and pouring it in a tumbler, before placing the glass in front of me. “And savour it.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” I said, smiling at the seriousness in his voice. “You know, I still have like… three quarters of the bottle left. I’m waiting for you to come and tell me if it’s worth the shitload of money my friends paid for it.”

“I might actually take you up on that offer one day,” he said, and turned around to tend to other customers. Oh, will you now?

“Well then you better hurry, cause I keep drinking from it and it will be empty eventually,” I said, raising my voice to make sure he could hear me.

What kind of game are you playing with me, Clyde Logan, I thought taking the opportunity to check out his ass. He really had a great ass. And an amazing back. I tried imagining what his bare skin would feel like under my fingers and if all of his body was just as full of beauty marks as his face. I took a big gulp of vodka, hoping that the alcohol would purify my thoughts and I actually remembered to swish it though my mouth before letting it burn down my esophagus. Yep, it tasted exactly like vodka. And future bad decisions.

“So how come we never talked in highschool?” I asked, once he turned back to me. “I mean, we must have bumped into each other, the school wasn’t that big.” It wasn’t my intention to talk about his crush on me, but it really bugged me how I’d never noticed him. I know the thing about secret admirers is the ‘secret’, but you should at least be aware of their existence.

He shrugged. “I guess I just used to be invisible.”

“I can hardly believe that,” I laughed. “Even if you were just half as big as you are now, you would have still been pretty noticeable.” I took another gulp of vodka, to make sure I had a reason to be blushing. “I have no idea what I just said but you should probably take it as a compliment.”

Clyde smiled and refilled my glass, then poured one for himself too. “I mostly kept to myself. I didn’t like attracting too much attention.”

“Why’s that?”

“People laughed,” he said, and a shadow passed over his features. He hastily downed his drink, as though he tried to wash away the memory.

“Well, people are shit,” I announced in a theatrical tone. It seemed that the alcohol had already gone to my head. “You should have come to me and my friends instead.”

“Really?” he smiled, and leaned on the counter.

“Yeah, we were awesome. Not asholes or anything. You would have loved us,” I said, and chuckled at the blatant lie. Truth was, many wanted to be us, but no one really liked us. “Maggie would have made a cheerleader out of you. And you would have been good at it,” I said pointing a finger at his nose. “You’re tall and athletic and you could have pulled that… that… the fuck was it called? When you throw someone in the air and catch them before they faceplant?”

“How come you didn’t join the cheerleading squad?”

“I tried. Went with Maggie to the tryouts. She made the team and I broke my nose,” I said with a grimace. “There was blood everywhere. But I think if you would have been on the team you would have caught me.”

“I would have tried my best.”

“It wasn’t for me anyway. Too much work and too many people looking at my ass in that short skirt. I didn’t really like my ass back then.”

“I liked your ass,” he said, and I saw the exact moment he realized what he had said, because all colour drained from his face.

“Well, I like your ass now,” I said looking at him over the rim of my glass, as the blood rushed back to his face. Luckily another patron called for him, so he didn’t have to say anything and gave him a moment to compose himself.

I was pretty sure he now knew I was checking his ass, because he had a smirk plastered on his face when he returned a few minutes later to fill my glass.

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s wise,” I said, staring into the clear liquid with both want and fear. “If you keep refilling my glass at this rate I’ll drink it and may not be able to walk back home. I could sleep under one of the tables,” I said, the alcohol already affecting my thinking.

“If you wait until closing time, I can take you home,” he offered and I had to make an effort not to say something stupid. “They’re already starting to leave, it won’t take much longer before I can close.”

“Thank you. I’d love that,” I said, blissfully ignoring the nagging feeling that I was really going to regret this in the morning.

The rest of the night was calm, except for the commotion created by a couple’s announcement of their second baby being on the way. I congratulated them, even though I had absolutely no idea who the fuck they were. She seemed to know me so I just smiled and answered her questions. Clyde kept refilling my glass, but much slower this time, making sure I didn’t end up being a slobbering mess. He handed me a water bottle at the exact right time, and in that moment I was pretty sure I loved him.

By the time everyone left the bar I was pretty drunk, but I was still in control of my own actions, which showed what a responsible adult I’d become, that didn’t get shitfaced when they went out. Well, Clyde was more to thank for this, because with the mindset I came into the bar earlier that evening, if he put a bottle of vodka in front of me I would have tried drinking it all. Now, there was just a pleasant buzz in my head, and a slight numbness in my fingertips.

“Don’t we have to start cleaning now?” I asked, walking around the empty bar. With the door locked and the TV turned off, the place looked a lot more cozy than before.

“No,” he replied from behind the counter. “I’ll clean up in the morning.”

The bar was an odd combination of old and new. The flat screen TVs contrasted wildly with the old jukebox in the corner. The tables were pretty worn out, but the pool tables looked pretty new, or at least, refurbished.

“Pity. I would have liked to help. Reminds me of my college years,” I said. “You know my first job in college was busboy? Bus...girl? Is this gendered?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, a friend helped me get this job at a club he worked at. I hated it, but I could go to classes in the morning.”

“You know where to find me if you ever need a job.” Well, you know where to find me if you ever need a blowjob, but I wasn’t drunk enough to say that out loud. Might imagine it later, though. “I could use some help around here sometimes.”

“I’ll let you know if I ever plan on changing my career. But I have to warn you, I once poured beer on my shoes instead of my cup, and I was sober. So don’t expect much from me.”

“You’d just need a little practice and I think you’d do great,” he said, closing the register and going around the bar. “You’d bring in a lot of people cause you’re pretty.”

“What, come for the bartender, stay for the drinks? Good tactic, I know someone it works on,” I said, winking. He smiled and turned off the lights before locking the door behind us.

“I can walk home,” I said, the cool air clearing my thoughts a little. “You don’t have to take a detour just for me. I’m not that drunk and a bit of fresh air will sober me up further.”

“No, I’m not letting you walk home. It’s cold. Get in,” he said, unlocking the car.

“As you wish,” I mumbled, and hopped in. Truth was, I was happy that he didn’t let me walk alone. Not because I was cold or afraid or anything���alcohol had a hand in that—but because I wanted to spend a little more time in his presence.  

His car smelled faintly like cheap air freshener. The leather on the seats was pretty worn out but soft to the touch, so I melted in my seat and closed my eyes as Clyde turned on the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. I could probably fall asleep like this.

“Do you know where to go?”

“Yep,” he said, and then added after a few moments of silence. “When Jimmy was teaching me how to drive I backed up in your driveway and ran over a few rose bushes and broke your mailbox.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I remember that. I was away at camp and when I came back my mom told me that two idiots ran over our mailbox.”

“Yeah, it was us,” he laughed. “She was so angry I thought she’d beat the living shit out of us. She made us plant new flowers and build a new mailbox and then paint the fence and cut the grass as punishment. She was a scary woman.”

“Well you deserved it, I loved that mailbox. I painted it myself, I even painted butterflies on it,”

“I tried copying them, but ummm… it didn’t really come out that great.”

“Those were some terrible butterflies, Clyde. I had to repaint it.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he said and pulled into my driveway.

It was probably the first time I regretted not living at least few miles away. I was very comfortably nestled in the passenger seat and in my drunken state it felt like a good place to sleep. Especially if he kept driving and talking to me in that soothing voice. I wondered if he’d let me sleep in his car if I asked him.

“As you can see I no longer have a mailbox, so you can make it up to me for the butterflies by building a new one,” I said, straightening my back. It was time to go home and sleep like an adult. An adult that will have regrets in the morning.

“I’m not really good with that anymore,” he said, looking at his prosthetic. “But you should call my brother, he’s more skilled than me.”

“Only if you paint some really terrible butterflies on it. I don’t need it without the butterflies.”

“Okay, I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he laughed.

“Thank you for today. For the bear and the drinks and everything,” I said leaning a little closer to him. He looked really cute with a smile still lingering on his face. He had really beautiful lips. I bet they would feel really soft.

“Goodnight Clyde,” I said, pressing a kiss on his cheek. His skin felt cool against my burning lips. “I’ll be waiting for you to tell me if my vodka was worth the money,” I said getting out of the car.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said a little bit dazed. “You should come by the bar more often. If you feel like it,” he stumbled over his words a little.

“Will do. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I kept debating as I walked to my door if I should just turn around and invite him over to taste the vodka and whatever else he might want to taste, but in the end I played it safe and got into the house. I could still see the headlights from his car as I took off my shoes and for a moment I wondered if he wasn’t having the same debate as me. Maybe he was braver, I hoped, but then I heard the engine and the car left my driveway.

I sighed and dragged my body to the bedroom. Clyde the Bear was taking up almost all the space so I just collapsed over him, burying my face in his white fur. “At least you love me, right?” I mumbled.

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YOUNG ADULT FRIDAYS - Riding With Brighton

Welcome to Shannon Muir’s Infinite House of Books!

DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to INFINITE HOUSE OF BOOKS by YA Bound Book Tours. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.

Riding with Brighton by Haven Francis Genre: YA Contemporary Fiction Release Date: June 27th 2017 Harmony Ink Press

Summary:

In the small town of Spring Valley, molds weren’t made to be broken, and high school senior Jay Hall’s been living comfortably in his popular jock one since adolescence. If it weren’t for the colorful, outspoken artistic anomaly Brighton Bello-Adler, he might have been willing to remain there. Unnaturally drawn to Brighton, Jay knows he needs something from him, but is he ready to find out what that something is?

Temporarily ditching his old life, Jay climbs into Brighton’s Bronco and finds himself on a whirlwind road trip through parts of his small town he didn’t know existed. When the excursion takes an unexpected turn, Jay is cracked wide open, and the person who’s revealed does strange things to Brighton’s heart.

But just when it appears they could be headed toward their own shared piece of paradise, the road takes a sharp right turn into Jay’s life—where the real trip is about to begin.

In an unconventional love story that defies labels, two young men embark on a journey toward growing up, coming out, and finding their place in the world. It’s a trip that ranges from heartbreaking to uplifting, funny to sweet, but always unique and personal.

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Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/riding-with-brighton

    Excerpt:

Prologue—Jay

When I woke up Friday morning, I knew it was going to be the day I would finally change my life.

Which, in retrospect, seems like a totally unattainable goal for the day. I mean, who can really change their life in a single day? Just to be clear, I’m talking about for the better. Fucking up your entire life in one day—that’s totally doable. Really, all it would take is 140 characters exposing your dirty black soul on Twitter. You wouldn’t even have to leave your bed.

Realistically, fucking it up would have been the more likely outcome considering the exact changes I needed to make. Again, I’m only realizing this in retrospect, which I’m suddenly starting to despise. Why the delayed reaction, common sense? Seriously.

In my defense, I was blinded by an epiphany. I shit you not. It’s the only explanation for the clarity that pushed out all the regular crap that usually occupies my brain.

Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever opened your eyes and immediately cringed because suddenly the exact depth of suck-ass your life has reached is slapping you repeatedly in the face? Trust me, it sucks. I mean, you go to bed in a comfortable state of denial thinking life’s great. In my case my girlfriend had watched me hit the game-winning double, and afterward my teammates and I had knocked back a few beers before heading home to our McMansions in Folsom Hills. Life is dandy. You sleep like a damn baby—that’s how comfortable you are in your warm shit pile of a life.

And then—ka, fucking, boom—you wake up and… oh hell no, how the hell did this happen? Someone bring me a fallout shelter because I need a safe place to escape from my life for the rest of eternity.

But no fallout shelter comes, and eventually you’re forced to see that your entire life must be destroyed and then resurrected. And all you can think is thank God this mayhem came in the form of an epiphany, because you’re definitely gonna need some divine powers to help you out.

It was all a mess, but the thing that was really screwing with my head was why it all had to change. I mean, I knew why. Deep down I’d always known why, but I had managed to live in the safety of denial for years.

Not anymore. The veil of delusion was lifted and suddenly, everything was blindingly clear.

And what was clear to me that morning was that I had forfeited the life that should have been mine. In fact I had veered as far as I possibly could from my should-have-been life. The path I’d chosen was definitely not the one less traveled. I took the path that had been tromped over a million times. It was a sharp right turn, backward a good mile and a half, around corners, down hills, through a forest, and across the universe from where I’d really wanted to go.

But suddenly I was forced to go there. The maze I would have to navigate in order to backtrack be damned.

Once the shock and terror passed, I felt inspired. I was all knowing and all-powerful and anything was possible. Reality could suck me, because I wasn’t taking its crap anymore.

That Rambo bullshit lasted for a good hour. And then I walked into school.

I could feel my confidence crack as soon as the big metal door closed behind me. But a crack wasn’t going to stop me from doing what had to be done because, dammit; I had an epiphany. I was working alongside higher powers, and it was now or never.

But hell, I mean I couldn’t just change everything immediately. So I wrapped my arm around Sadie and walked to my literal circle of friends who were huddled in the middle of the commons like they were every morning. At first I looked at them with my brand-new superior eyes and thought, I’m better than this. I have more to offer the world than my exceptional athletic ability, good looks, and diligent study habits. I have nothing in common with these people. My should-have-been-life is so much better than this.

While thinking these thoughts, I was midsentence—talking to Jones about the party he was having on Saturday—when Mack slapped me on the chest. He started insulting my performance from the night before, which was obviously bullshit because I always kill it on the field. I insulted him back. This was the banter we were comfortable in. Friendly digs were thrown around for a minute, and then he brought Sadie into it, telling me she needed to do a better job of “warming me up” before our next game. I didn’t defend my virginal girlfriend, but instead told him I was always plenty warmed up (wink wink). Which probably should have been the first, or now that I’m thinking about it, at least the third (seriously retrospect, damn you) sign that my life was not, in fact, on the fast track to change. But really I didn’t see it until I began to turn my head back to Sadie.

That’s when my world went into some weird stop-start motion of clarity:

Jesus, all these guys are wearing the same damn outfits: basketball shoes, perfectly distressed jeans, and brand-name T-shirts under their letterman jackets.

Holy shit, almost all of them have their arms wrapped around popular, beautiful cheerleaders.

And, for fuck’s sake, they’re all talking about last night’s game or Jones’s party.

It freaked me the hell out because—God, this is just too sad—they were clones. They could have all been the same damn person. It was eerie as hell. And at first it felt like more proof that I deserved better.

But then, when I finally looked at Sadie, I saw my arm: my letterman jacketed arm was wrapped around a popular, beautiful cheerleader, and it all hit me again without warning—because that’s how theses god-awful epiphanies work.

I woke up that morning convinced I was different, that I deserved more. And yet, I put on the exact same jeans, T-shirt, and basketball shoes as all these guys. Then I automatically walked into that circle, wrapping an arm around Sadie and dragging her with me because she was the piece that completed my jocktastic ensemble. And then I spewed out the exact same words all these guys were spewing out.

And that’s what got me.

I had nothing else to talk about. Sports, parties, and girls—that was pretty much the extent of my vocabulary. There wasn’t actually a unique and interesting person locked in some weird chamber inside of me trying to claw his way out. I was Jay Hall: quintessential popular jock asshole. Despite the fact that I knew there was one thing that separated me from these guys, it didn’t make me different from them. I had no right to even consider that I deserved to be anyone else.

Mind. Blown.

As the day went on, I couldn’t deny the fact that I was trapped, cocooned by a mass of kids living the exact same life as me. The roadblocks were clean-cut, attractive, and popular, and they were as deep as childhood and adolescence combined. And the road I was trying to go down was narrow, muddy, and filled with potholes anyway. So why did I even give a shit?

By third period I had given up the dream. And I was feeling claustrophobic.

When I woke up on Friday morning, I knew it was going to be the day I would finally change my life. I thought I’d had an epiphany. I thought I needed a divine, unexplainable act to finally give me the courage to do something.

But in the end it wasn’t divinity at all.

It was a simple piece of paper with a few numbers scratched on it. A piece of paper that ended up turning my life upside down and cracking me open in the process.

On Friday morning if you had told me that a damn piece of paper would, within twenty-four hours, cause my entire world to implode, I would have told you to shove it up your ass. Paper schmaper, I was working with a goddamn epiphany.

    About the Author

An escapist filled with wanderlust, writing is Haven’s responsible adult version of getting in the car and driving without aim. Reading and music are close seconds. She and her husband can often be found checking out their favorite bands locally or hundreds of miles away via road trips. Reading is something they don’t have in common, but he tolerates her dimly lit late-night habit.

Haven once made a living writing about trends in interior design but thoroughly enjoys that fact that people, unlike furniture, can fall in love. She especially loves when they fall desperately and into a forbidden kind of love. Haven also works as a graphic designer but considers Mom her most important title.

She has a slightly embarrassing fascination with the period of life that sits awkwardly between childhood and adulthood; the years when nothing is certain, lots of mistakes are made, falling in love is inevitable, and finding yourself is a struggle. For her it’s a fun place to escape to and she hopes her readers agree.

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YOUNG ADULT FRIDAYS – Riding With Brighton was originally published on the Wordpress version of SHANNON MUIR'S INFINITE HOUSE OF BOOKS.