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#coyote fan fiction
topguncortez · 1 year
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How I Met Your Mother- J. Machado
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pairing: Javy "Coyote" Machado x Valerie "Val" Bates word count: 1.0k synopsis: the story of how Javy and Val met. Coyote & Val Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist
“I am going to kill you,” Javy cursed as Jake was filling out the paperwork for him. He was sitting in a wheelchair in the waiting room of the hospital. What was supposed to be just a simple workout ended with Jake accidentally dropping a fifty pound plate on poor Javy’s foot. His foot had immediately swelled up and was now an angry purple and blue. 
“I already said I was sorry,” Jake said, “I got distracted.” 
“Clearly,” Javy rolled his eyes. Jake was expecting a call from his girlfriend who was over in Italy with her parents. He had been distracted since the day she left and Javy was counting down the days when she’d return. Javy loved Jake like a brother, he was his best friend, his wingman, but man, was he annoying when it came to missing Y/N. 
“Hey, don’t blame the lady,” Jake scolded. 
Javy chuckled and adjusted his position in the wheelchair. His butt was starting to hurt from sitting so long and waiting to be taken back, “I don’t blame her. Out of all the girls you have ever been with, I actually like Y/N. I hope you don’t screw this one up.” 
“You and me both,” Jake said, right as a nurse called out Javy’s name, “Want me to go with?” 
“Nah, I’m good,” Javy said as the nurse came and grabbed him, “Stay gold, Ponyboy.” 
“I'll never let go, Jack,” Jake smirked and gave Javy their ‘secret’ handshake before the nurse took him back. The nurse took him back to one of the exam rooms. 
“Valerie, will be in to see you soon,” The nurse explained and checked the IV in Javy’s arm, “Do you need anything?” 
“Can I get one of those warm blankets, please?” He asked and the nurse nodded, “Thank you.” 
Javy looked around the small exam room and noticed his x-rays were on display. He winced at seeing the clearly broken bones in his foot and hoped that this wasn’t going to take him out of flying for very long. He and Jake had just gotten back to Lemoore from TopGun school, and he wasn’t ready to be grounded just yet. Jake finished first in the class, and Javy finished second. They both had an opportunity to be instructors, and Javy almost did take it, but opted not to. He wasn’t ready to settle in his career yet. There were still missions to fly and places to see. 
He sighed and slunk down in his wheelchair, leaning his head back a bit and closing his eyes. He was exhausted. Usually by now on Saturday’s he was taking a nap after going to work out at the ass crack of dawn with Jake. He didn't understand why the man had to wake up at six on a Saturday to go the gym, but Jake said it was part of his routine. Javy almost dozed off as there was a knock on the door. He didn’t bother to sit up, thinking it was the nurse bringing him his warm blanket. But the second a young beautiful woman walked through the door, he was quickly pushing himself up and trying to look presentable. 
“Hello, I’m Valerie Bates, you must be Mr. Machado?” 
“I uh. . . y-yeah. I-I Javy,” He was mentally slapping himself. It was like every coherent thought had left his head. He suddenly forgot how to speak in the presence of a woman who was clearly a lot smarter than him. Valerie chuckled and sat down on a stool across from Javy. She signed into her laptop, looking over Javy’s case and pulling up his labs. 
“Well, good news is your foot is not broken, just a fracture,” Valerie said, “I think we can just fix it with a boot and rest.” She looked over at Javy and he just smiled. She raised her eyebrows like she was expecting him to say something. 
“You’re pretty,” Javy blurted. Valerie blushed and looked down at her laptop, “Oh my god, I am making a fool out of myself.” 
“It’s okay, Mr. Machado,” Valerie shook her head with a smile on her face, “It’s probably the pain meds in your body. But, I want to know your opinion on just doing a boot.”
“I’m a pilot,” Javy said, “How long will I be out if we do the boot?” 
Valerie looked at the x-ray, “I’m going to say eight to ten weeks. But, you’re young and if you do everything as I tell you, then it could be quicker.” 
Javy clenched his jaw. He thought of all the detachments, missions and possible deployments he would be overlooked because of the injury. He suddenly wanted to go through a fifty pound plate at Jake for causing this. It was as if Valerie could read his mind and moved a bit closer to him. 
“If you are worried about this affecting your career, it shouldn’t. I know eight to ten weeks sounds like a very long time, but it’ll go by pretty quickly. You need to be on total rest for the first two weeks, and then you can get back to working out and keeping yourself in flight shape.” 
Javy looked up at Valerie and noticed how beautiful her eyes were. They were like endless pools of honey with strands of gold mixed in them. She also smelled of lavender and vanilla, which reminded Javy of him of being home at his grandmother’s house. 
“You promise?” Javy asked, and Valerie smiled. 
“I promise,” She answered and then pushed herself back away from Javy, going back towards her computer, “Now, I will have the ortho tech come in and fit you for your boot, and I will have you follow up in four weeks.” She grabbed her laptop and stood up. 
“Wait, where are you going?” Javy asked, and moved as if he was going to stand up and then remembered that his foot was broken. 
Valerie furrowed her eyebrows, “I have other patients to see.” 
“But. . .” Javy was trying to think of something to say that wasn’t going to make him sound absolutely pathetic, but he could not think of a single thing except, “Will I see you again?” 
A smirk graced her lips, “In four weeks for your follow up. Have a good day, Mr. Machado.” Valerie walked towards the door and opened it but not before Javy called out. 
“It’s Coyote!” 
“Callsign?” Valerie asked. 
“Y-yeah,” Javy answered, “How did you know about-” 
“Have a nice day.” 
Javy sat there in awe as she walked out the door. He had talked to her for all of twenty minutes and was already so in over his head.
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note: Sundays are Opposite Attract Days, so send in blurb ideas, asks, requests whatever you want! :)
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thefallennightmare · 2 months
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The Coyotes Cry-One
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*gif made by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Pairings: MafiaBoss!TattooArtist! Noah Sebastian x OFC.
Warnings/Tropes: violence, death, swearing, smut(very mature), angst, fluff, forced proximity, forbidden love, dark romance, mafia themes, arranged marriage, tattoo artist.
Summary: Centered on the story of a young bride whose fairy-tale vision of the Concrete Jungle is shattered when her father, part of the Irish Crime Family; McManus strikes a marital peace deal with the mafia head of OMNS, Noah Sebastian. Scarlett is faced with rage and conflict, as she is forced to work alongside her new husband in his tattoo shop that fronts for his mafia dealings. Devastating events leave Scarlett with the realization that there is more to Noah than meets the eye. "I would willingly, lay down my life for you if I had to." The power of love is thicker than blood.
Authors Note: Here is chapter one! I don't think this series will be more than six parts but you never know with how often I'm always adding things. This series will have mature themes throughout as a warning.
Tags[OPEN]: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @happi-goth @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @vinyardmauro @malice-ov-mercy @concreteemo @wheezybrenda @thisbicc @malerieee @mrs-zimmerman @srorgana1 @miserylovescompany1195-blog @embracethereaper42 @lizzieseveride @eclipseeetop @sundamariis @calleyx13 @krisslee18 @princessgh0st @aprosiacperson @xxrainstorm @ourdiabolikal-rapture @iamamatus @klutzy-kay24 @cookiesupplier @bngurngheart @idwt-money @rain-down-on-me
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NOAH
The screams were muted due to the concrete confines of the room, the cold, moist air circulating us in a suffocating grip. But none of that mattered, the only thing that did was strapped to the chair in front of me. Cleaning the sharp blade on the once-white handkerchief, I clicked my tongue at the raw screams. 
“Scream all you want. No one can hear you all the way down here,” I said while pointing to the concrete walls. “I mixed the concrete myself with a special formula. Think of it as soundproof.” 
The man spat blood at my feet, nearly missing my black boots. “Fuck you!” 
A chuckle to the left of me and I glanced over to one of my right-hand men, Joakim. Although, we in OMNS always called him Jolly. 
“I applaud the fire in you,” Jolly nodded at the man. “You’ll need it.” 
Twirling the knife between my fingers, I yet again asked the same question that I asked three times previously. 
“Who killed Vincent?” 
“I already told you fuckers, I don’t know!” The man, Barry, choked out on a mouth full of blood. “You’re asking the wrong guy!” 
As Barry fought against the bindings, the chair scraping against the ground at our feet, I hummed in mock disappointment. “No, Barry. I don't think we are. My intel tells me that someone in the Irish Mafia killed a dear friend of mine.” 
“I hate to tell you, your intel is wrong,” Barry said with a dry chuckle. 
Suddenly his screams of agony sounded like music to my ears as I dug the knife deep into his thigh directly above the previous wound that Jolly had given him with the screwdriver. My hair fell into my eyes and I hastily brushed it back with my large hand, blood smearing in the dark strands. I’d been due for a haircut for the last few weeks but haven’t found anyone able to give me the correct Levi cut since my older barber passed away. 
“My intel is never wrong,” I gritted out through clenched teeth while twisting the knife deeper.
Barry was a blubbering mess, dark tendrils of his hair covered the agony on his face so with a sharp nod from me, Jolly stood behind Barry and ripped his head back so I could watch in pleasure. 
“Now, I’m only going to ask one more time,” I twisted the knife deeper. “Who killed Vincent?” 
He did his best to writhe away but with my knife piercing him in place and Jolly’s tight grip on his hair, there was nowhere for Barry to run. Blood dripped from his mouth, his nose, and the cut on his eyebrow. Before we captured him, he had the looks of a movie star but now, I couldn't help but cringe. 
“I already told you,” he sobbed, a mess of blood and snot. “I swear.”
Jolly and I shared a look for a brief moment before we pushed away from Barry to slink over to the far end of the room to have a conversation. 
“Do you believe him?” Jolly tied up his hair into a messy bun. 
I placed my hands on my hips and sighed. “I don’t think he knows who killed Vincent but he knows the right direction we need to look. We need to crank it up a notch and show him that OMNS isn't going to back down from this.” 
Instantly, he understood and while he retreated up the stairs to my office, I titled my head at Barry. 
“What family do you work for?” I asked. 
His breathing was shallow and unsteady thanks to the hard blows of Jolly’s fists to his ribs but I had to marvel at this kid's drive to remain loyal. 
“The Walsh’s,” he eventually answered. 
My brows furrowed in confusion. “The Walsh’s haven’t been around since they moved their operations back to Boston. Why are you still here running the streets for them?” 
Barry lifted his heavy head and wore a smug smile. “Call me committed.” 
“No, I don't think that’s it,” I shook my head and took two large steps towards him, him shrinking back into himself. “I think it’s the fact that you’re lying to me and I fucking hate liars.” 
“Fucking shit!” 
He cursed when I ripped out the knife from his thigh to press the blade against his neck. 
“You’re insane,” Barry shuddered when he noticed the playful gleam in my eyes. 
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But I also don’t like liars. Now, I’ll ask again. What family do you work for?” 
“It’s a new family on the rise called O’shove it up your ass,” he spat in my face. 
Literally. 
His saliva and blood dripped down my cheek but I didn’t even flinch and made no effort to wipe it away. Instead, I broke out into a wide smile when I heard Jolly returning with something special in tow; something that made Barry’s eyes widen in fear. 
“Wh-what the fu-fuck, man?! Do you just have that lying around?” He stuttered. 
Glancing over my shoulder, I extended my hand to Jolly who in turn placed the handle of the katana in my palm. Standing straight now, I studied the old sword with careful precision. 
“This used to be my great-great-great grandfathers; passed down through each generation. It might be old but I have the blade sharpened every once in a while, just in case,” I said while slowly removing the blade from the sheath. 
The dim light overhead cast its faded yellow glow on the sharp blade and something inside of me twinged with sheer delight. 
“Ju-ju-st in case fo-for what?” 
Jolly snorted at the stuttering mess of Barry while leaning against the concrete wall. 
“Tell us what we want to know and you won’t have to find out.” 
The sharp tip of the katana pressed lightly against Barry’s jugular, all it would take would be one flick of my wrist to end it all however I refrained, not wanting to end the fun before I got what I needed. 
“What family do you work for?” I asked again, this time with less patience than the last time. 
Barry’s eyes glanced down from the long blade at his throat to Jolly then finally up to me as I towered over him. His bottom lip wavered as he finally nodded. 
“Okay, okay. Promise you won’t kill me?” 
He tried to wager but to humor him, I gave a curt nod. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll think about it.”
“Fuck,” Barry sobbed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m good as dead anyway. The McManus family don’t like rats and a low-level drug dealer like me isn’t worth saving.” 
My grip on my katana slipped slightly at the name but I was quick to recover. “The McManus?” 
He nodded widely. “ Yea. I work for the brothers; Connor and Murphy. I deal their drugs and run their errands.”
“So you’re their bitch?” Jolly asked. 
Barry’s shoulders fell. “Essentially, yes.” 
“Did the McManus brothers kill Vincent?” I asked while tightening my grip on the handle of the katana. 
“No,” he shook his head, the blood from the wound above his eye now pooling into his eyes. “But they might know who did it. I can try and set up a meeting with them, on your behalf. Maybe they can lead you in the direction you’re looking for?” 
Jolly gave me a look and I held up a finger, not quite finished with my conversation with Barry. 
“Why the fuck would they listen to you if you’re just their bitch?” 
This brought a wicked smile to his face as he used his shoulder to wipe away the blood from his chin. 
“Because Murphy McManus doesn't like it when his daughter is threatened.” 
A loud rumble erupted in my chest, like a ravenous growl, as I dug the blade of the katana deeper into Barry’s neck, blood now oozing from the fresh wound. I ignored his wails of pain, now only seeing red. 
“You’ve got some balls kid to threaten the daughter of one of the most feared Irish Mafia families,” I said. 
Barry shrugged in his binds. “I didn’t say it would be coming from me. Word on the street is that McManus' grandfather had issues with your grandfather some odd years ago. They’d believe me if I said the great Noah Sebastian was looking to start a turf war.” 
With a scowl, I snapped my head at Jolly. “Get this piece of shit his phone so he can make the call.” 
Never once faltering the blade from Barry’s neck, I watched with narrowed eyes as Jolly removed one of the binds around his wrist and tossed the phone on his lap. 
“Make the meeting. If I hear one threat on the daughter, I’ll end your life before you even hang up the phone,” I seethed behind the mask of my hair as it fell into my eyes. 
My heart beat like a thunderstorm in my chest at the thought of the McManus daughter. No one knew of her and what she meant to not only the family but me as well; besides my closest allies. 
Barry’s fingers worked fast to type out a message before showing me the screen and with my free hand, I snatched it from him to read it. 
Barry: The brother's food will be delivered at six p.m. tonight. 
Unknown: What’s on the menu? 
Barry: Japanese with a side of Swiss.
“Joakim is Swedish,” I corrected Barry. “I’m assuming this whole dinner rous is to keep the authorities off your back if they go snooping?” 
“Look at you! I think you earned yourself a gold star,” Barry joked. 
Jolly’s fist collided with his face, his neck snapping to the side, and the faint red mark from his ring began to rise on Barry’s cheek. 
“Let me guess, he’s the muscle between the two of you?” Barry spat out a chunk of blood. 
Not bothering to look away from his phone as a new message came in, I answered his question. 
“No, that’s Ash. Trust me, you don’t want to meet him.” 
Unknown: Dinner will be served in the study.  6 o’clock. 
“It’s set,” I tossed the phone to Jolly who dropped it to the ground seconds before his boot came crashing down on it. 
“What the fuck! You guys owe me a new phone!” 
Placing the sheath back over the katana, I set it on the table along with the other wide variety of weapons and turned back to Barry with my hands crossed behind my back; grasping the weapon tightly. He glanced between Jolly and me and noticed the sinister gleam dancing behind my honey eyes. 
“Hang on,” he began thrashing in the chair, free hand swinging widely. “You said I could live.” 
“I did. But watch what you say next.” 
Quickly, Jolly grabbed Barry’s free arm to drag his still-bound body over to the table behind me and held his wrist down. His hand was on display for my wicked plan. 
“Barry, I have a question for you. If you answer wrong, well-,” I pulled out the hammer from behind my back and shook it in front of him. 
His eyes widened in fear but I paid no mind to it, simply asked my question. 
“Will Murphy’s daughter be there tonight?” 
“Fuck no! Dumb broad never leaves her bedroom,” Barry answered. “She’s holed up in there all hours of the day. The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.” 
Jolly sucked in a breath just as I raised the hammer, bringing it down on Barry’s pinky, whose cries were overshadowed by the noise of his bones breaking.
“Why are you so obsessed with this broad?!” 
I brought the hammer down again, this time breaking his ring and pointer finger. Now he was practically having an exorcism with how he was moving about on the chair, struggling to break free from the binds. 
“One more question then I’m finished with this game,” I said while craning my neck to the side before getting eye level with the man. “Do you suspect the McManus family killed Vincent?” 
While he stayed silent, the look that flashed over his hazel eyes told me everything I needed to know. Turning on my heels, I dropped the hammer on the table and began walking upstairs to leave Jolly to clean up until Barry’s voice halted me in my tracks. 
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the broad pulled the trigger herself. She’ll do whatever she can to get Daddy’s attention since she was never the favorite..” 
My shoulders went rigid and I could faintly hear Jolly mutter under his breath something in Swedish before I grabbed the gun from behind my back that had been tucked in the waist paint of my black slacks and fired two rounds straight into Barry’s chest. 
“Noah,” Jolly started. 
I waved him off before dropping the gun on the table. “Let’s be real, Jolly. We weren’t letting him walk out of here alive anyway. 
“McManus,” he sighed while rubbing his jaw. “Why does that name sound familiar?” 
I cleaned the blood from my fingers and rings before letting out a long breath. I knew he wouldn’t remember the name but that name haunted me for years, plagued my entire existence in more ways than one. 
“They’re one of the most notorious Irish Mafia families. Their lineage started in Ireland generations ago before relocating to Boston where the McManus brothers were raised by their grandfather, Fergal. They moved to Los Angeles when the brothers were in their mid-twenties.” 
“Wait,” Jolly’s head snapped over towards me. “The twins that went on that killing spree all those years ago in Boston. The last anyone heard from them is when they shot Yakavetta in open court.” 
“Exactly why they moved here. Fergal didn't appreciate the hot trail on them so they hid out here for a few years. But Fergal couldn’t handle laying low for long because he began building the ranks here. Overstepping on my grandfather's turf, because he was still young at the time.” I grabbed the weapons we used on Barry and tossed them into the bucket of bleach in the utility sink. 
“You know a lot about this family,” Jolly noted. 
I hummed. “My grandfather told me all about them growing up. He wanted to make sure I was well versed in the McManus family once I took over.” 
Glancing down at myself, I hummed again in displeasure when I noticed the blood spatter all over my white turtleneck.
Should have worn the black one, idiot.
I went about cleaning up the mess, ignoring the slumped-over body in the chair for a moment. 
“The daughter. Do you think she did it?” Jolly wondered. 
I halted unraveling the plastic we used to wrap the dead bodies for a few seconds before letting my shoulders drop slightly. “I don’t believe so. While the McManus brothers do hire hitmen to do their dirty work, there’s no way Murphy would make his own blood do it.”
“I know there’s some sort of history between you and her. With all of us-” 
His words trailed off when I snapped my eyes over to him. “There is no history, Jolly. She’s just someone who went to high school with us. That was years ago and I doubt she even remembers that we went to the same school. She was too busy being preoccupied with other things.” 
All of us in OMNS grew up together since we were twelve years old, Jolly moved here from Sweden when he was ten. We’d all been inseparable for the last sixteen years in the schoolyard and now the streets of the Concrete Jungle. 
Not saying another word, the two of us busied ourselves cleaning up our mess and by the time we returned upstairs to my office. The staircase to the hidden basement was located behind a bookshelf and while Jolly closed it, I rummaged through the drawers of my desk to find a different shirt. 
Now dressed in a fresh black t-shirt, we stepped out of my office and the sounds of tattoo machines reached my ears and I smirked walking into the open lobby. Every one of my artists had someone in their chairs and my most sought-after artist, Nicholas, glanced up at me for a second before returning to tattooing his client. 
“How’d the meeting go?” He asked. 
“Didn’t work out. We have another one set for 6 tonight,” Jolly informed. 
I went up to the counter of my tattoo shop and glanced down at the book. It was a full day of appointments not to mention the group of girls that came in for a walk in. They were chittering like birds about how it was the blonde's bachelorette party and she specifically wanted me. 
In more ways than one. 
While she was cute, she wasn’t my type. 
Roger, the receptionist of Under The Right Lights Tattoo Parlor, and newest recruit of OMNS glanced at me over his shoulder. 
“Oh hey, Noah. Are you ready for the walk-in?” 
I shook my head. “No, I’m not tattooing today. But I do have a job for you.” 
His eyes lit up. “Yeah?” 
“Tonight when the shop closes, stick around. We need your help with something,” I patted his shoulder. 
“You got it, boss,” Roger nodded with a wide smile. 
Turning on my heels, I stuffed my hands in my pockets to glance at my studio. I opened Under The Right Lights about six years ago and even though we had a slow start, once word got out that Noah Sebastian and Nicholas Ruffilo tattooed here, business flowed in through the doors. 
I took over my grandfather's other business eight years ago but needed something to cover those dealings so that's when I thought of opening a tattoo shop with my best friends; my brothers. While Nicholas tattooed, Jolly ran the financial side of things, and Nick, or as we called him Folio, ran the motorcycle shop right next door. He was a mechanic, one of the best in town, and he often frequented here through the door to the left of Nicholas’ booth when he wasn’t busy fixing bikes.
Above my tattoo shop housed thirty apartments, all owned by me, and I lived in the penthouse on the tenth floor. Everyone in OMNS also lived in their own units so we could always be close to each other, in case something came up. With nine of the units being occupied by us, I rented out the other twenty-one for another form of income each month. 
I treated everyone as an equal with the tattoo studio and OMNS but they also respected me enough to know that I had the final say with both. Things didn’t get approved unless I gave the okay. 
Glancing down at my watch, I noticed that it was only four in the afternoon meaning we had a few hours until we met with the brothers. So I walked over to the back area of the shop where we used a private section to make a small gym where I knew Ash and Byran would be. 
Ash was not only my bodyguard but he was also my trainer and Bryan took photos of the tattoos and ran our social media account. 
“Tonight, six o'clock,” I said while crossing my arms. 
Bryan wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded. “I’ll make sure the SUV is loaded up.” 
“Thank you,” I then turned towards Ash. “I’ve got a body downstairs. Do you mind?” 
He shook his head. “Not at all. I’ll bring Matt. He needs a break from managing everything. Get out and smell the trees in the woods. Or the salty brine of the ocean.”
With a snort, I bid them goodbye before retreating into my office and ignoring the preposterous waves of the blonde in the waiting area and instead thought of a certain redhead. 
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SCARLETT
With a longing sigh, I brushed away the fire-red strands of hair from my face and adjusted my position on my bed to continue reading the book in front of me. It was the book Wolves: Behavior, Ecology, and Conservation by L. David Mech. This was the third time I’ve read but every time, I somehow learned something new. 
I've been out of college with my degree for four years now and although I haven’t done anything since then, I still tried to keep up with my studies. The possibility of opening up a wildlife rescue still weighed heavy on my mind but I knew my father would never agree to it. His money was to be used for other business opportunities.
The spiral notebook was filled with my chicken scratch handwriting and after tossing down the pen, I shook out the cramp from my hand to glance at the clock on my nightstand. It was nearing six in the evening and when it would be time for dinner with my father and uncle, they had to cancel due to a meeting that seemed to come out of nowhere. 
Next to the clock was a picture that made my heart drop to my stomach like it did every time. It was of me, my father, and my mother back on my eighteenth birthday and high school graduation; the last picture we took together. 
Because she was murdered that night. 
Eight years later the tears still burned in my eyes when I thought back to that night. We were driving home from dinner when someone crashed into our car and ran it off the road into a ditch. My father managed to pull me from the wreckage before the car burst into flames; my mother however wasn’t that lucky. We never found out who ran us off the road that night and whenever I asked about it, my father would wave me off and say one word only. 
Revenge. 
The relationship with my father was never the same since that night and once my Uncle Connor moved in, I retreated into myself. I loved them both dearly, but I blamed their life in the Irish Mafia for my mother's death. I did my best to remain respectful because I still lived in the McManus estate and knew I couldn’t make it on my own; not yet. My father had made it clear more than once that the only way I was to move out was either if I had my own money or married. 
Hence why I was doubling up on my studies, I needed to find some kind of job with my degree, a simple job at a store or fast food place would not be enough to survive on my own. And clearly, my relationship with my boyfriend was nowhere near marriage level yet; we’d only been together for less than a year and never spoke about getting married. 
I checked my phone and noticed Cory texted me a little while ago. 
Cory: I have to cancel tomorrow night, sorry. Work is sending me out of town and won’t be back till Sunday. 
I rolled my eyes knowing damn well he wasn’t the slightest bit sorry. 
Me: OK. See you then, I guess.
I locked my phone, the sound echoing in the quiet of my bedroom, and I busied myself once again with the book in front of me until there was a soft knock on my door. 
“Yes?” I called out. 
The door cracked open slightly and a head of white curls popped their head inside and I instantly smiled. 
“Hi, Dortha.” 
“Hello dear,” our housekeeper smiled, resting her frail hands in the pocket of her apron. “I know your father and uncle can’t make dinner but I still made your favorite. If you’re hungry.” 
My stomach growling gave way to my answer so with a chuckle, I let my studies be to follow Dortha out of my room and down to the dining room where I knew she already had a plate of food set up for me.
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NOAH
The car ride across town to the McManus estate was filled with the ramblings of the other members of OMNS while I sat quietly behind the wheel, mind filled with more pressing matters. I gripped the wheel so hard that my knuckles were turning white, something Nicholas, who sat in the passenger seat, noticed right away. 
“Are you alright?” 
I nodded. “Just going over what I’m going to say.” 
Pulling the car to a slow stop at a red light, I drummed my fingers against the dashboard, trying another thing to calm my nerves since the deep breathing exercises my therapist recommended weren’t working. 
“Hey boss,” Roger spoke up from the back seat between Ash and Bryan. “Maybe someone else should drive. You seem nervous.” 
My eyes sliced into him through the rearview mirror. “No one drives my car but me.” 
With a shaking hand through his golden locks, he nodded and kept his head down the rest of the drive once I hit the gas again. 
“Do you know what you’re going to ask them? Folio wondered from the seat behind me while tapping the wooden drumsticks he always carried on his lap. 
“I’m thinking of coming out right and asking if they have any idea who killed Vincent,” I answered. 
Jolly shifted in the seat behind Nicholas and without having to gaze over at him, I knew he wasn’t too thrilled about my idea. 
“I’d say we just pop these fools. End this turf war once and for all,” Roger pipped up again. 
His excitement for being brought along tonight was evident but I was suddenly regretting my decision. 
“Chill, we need to be smart about this,” I said. 
“We can’t go in there with guns blazing,” Jolly added. 
I came to a stop in front of the large, gothic-like gate, and rolled down my window so I was able to click the button on the intercom. 
“Yes?” A thick Irish accent responded. 
I cleared my throat. “I have the brothers' dinner. Japanese with a side of Swiss.” 
Only static came from the speaker for a long moment until the loud creak of the gate caused Roger to jump in surprise and Byran to stifle a laugh behind his hand. The SUV glided up the long drive with ease as the setting sun spilled inside casting all of us in an orange and purple glow. We all piled out as soon as the car was parked in front of the McManus manor and I nodded towards Bryan, Ash, and Roger. 
“You three hang back in the foyer in case the brothers don’t want all of us in the meeting,” I said while clicking the safety on my gun before stuffing it in my back waistband. 
While Ash and Bryan agreed, both double-checking their weapons, Roger on the other hand made his distaste for my orders known with a low scowl. 
“All due respect, Noah,” he began. 
I adjusted the peaky hat on my head and raised a brow. “Is there a problem, Roger?” 
He shifted on his feet. “I’ve been the recruit for six months now, don’t you think I worked up being involved in one of these meetings?” 
I bit the inside of my cheek to my snarky remark to myself but Folio was quick to respond in my place. 
“Kid, calm down. It took Bryan six years to work up the ranks. Ash, it took him ten years.” 
Roger gaped at the two of them who seemed to have played along with Folio’s joke and agreed with a nod. 
“Can I atleast get a gun?” He outstretched his arms. “You guys are sending me into the warzone with no weapon!” 
“It’s only a warzone if you make it one,” Ash said. 
“No weapons for recruits,” I said. 
Not wanting to waste any more time out here, I led the group of us up the crumbling steps and came to a stop in front of the door. Motioning to Roger, I waited for him to ring the bell, and glanced around the vast grounds of the McManus estate while stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my black peacoat. 
“Nervous?” 
Peering to my left, I nodded to Nicholas. “A bit.” 
He clapped my shoulder. “Let’s keep our questions short. Try to get the info we need then we can leave.”
“Yeah,” Folio agreed while shivering. “This place gives me the creeps. It looks like it's days away from caving in.” 
Glancing up at the old brick mansion, I had to agree with him. It looked as if neither of the McManus brothers bothered to keep up with the maintenance of the home and the overgrown grass on the other side of the driveway was proof of that. 
Suddenly the front door opened with an eerie creaking and all of our eyes met with an older lady with a head full of white curls. 
“Yes?” 
I stepped forward. “My name is Noah Sebastian. OMNS has a meeting with the brothers.” 
Her brown eyes shifted between all of us before she slowly stepped to the side, letting us all pile inside the grand manor. While the outside needed some work, the inside was marvelous with expensive pieces of art and not a speck of dust anywhere. 
“My name is Dorthea. I will let the brothers know you’re here,” she said with a thick Irish accent. 
Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention and when I gazed up at the top of the stairs landing, all of my breath left my soul when those familiar hazel eyes met mine. All of the hairs not only on the back of my neck but on my arms stood straight with the buzz of electricity that shot through me when I noticed her eyes double in size. The brightness of her gaze struck a chord in my heart, playing a soft melody that only the two of us could hear. 
It had been a long while since I’d seen her last but fuck, she still looked absolutely breathtaking like she did the night of high school graduation.  
Her hair was deeper red than the last time we saw each other, now it cascaded down her back, and when she outstretched her arms on the wooden banister, her head tilted to the side in a way to assess all of these strangers in her home. 
Although four of us weren’t strangers to her. We all went to high school together even though she wouldn’t remember us. She was always with the group of kids that were rich, too good to be seen with the bottom dwellers like us. 
I removed my hat to hand it to Roger to hold onto it then shook out my hair from my eyes before slicking it back and I could have sworn I heard someone’s breath catch in their throat. 
“Noah Sebastian, standing here in my house. I must say, I almost didn’t recognize you without the long hair.” 
Well, shit. 
“Saoirse McManus,” I hummed in response to her sarcastic tone. 
A low scowl pulled on her lips before she pushed herself away from the banister and quickly scurried down the hall, disappearing around the corner. 
It was almost bittersweet seeing her again after all this time. While I wish it had been under better circumstances, I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to get wrapped up in Saoirse McManus; not again. I had built an empire since dropping out of high school and I couldn’t let anything tear it down, especially a silly little crush. 
It never was a silly crush. It was always more than that. You’re just bitter that she never felt the same.
Why would she ever have feelings for me? In her eyes and her financial stature, OMNS were nobodies; the gum on the bottom of their shoe. While they ran their empire up in the rich estates of the wealthy, we ran ours in the slums of the Concrete Jungle. There may have been a point in my life when I wanted to be in the same stature as her but now having earned my wealth, I realized that all I needed was my brothers. 
Bullshit. 
If that were the case, seeing her tonight wouldn’t have taken my breath away and cock twitched with such a dire need for her. 
“What was that about her not remembering you?” Jolly asked. 
I ran a hand over my mouth. “I didn’t think she would.” 
“Hey,” Roger’s head popped in between Jolly and I. “That’s the daughter, right? You know, rumors are going around the CJ that she’s the one that killed Vincent.” 
My eyes sliced into him and Jolly had to press a hand to my chest to keep me from wrapping my hands around his throat. 
“The CJ?” I spat out through a clenched jaw. 
Roger swallowed thickly. “Yeah. The Concrete Jungle. I thought you would understand the nickname since you were the one who created the Concrete Jungle. I spend a lot of time in the tunnels with groups of guys who tell stories of OMNS success. Why do you think I wanted to join so badly?”  
“Do me a favor, kid. Stop lingering in the underground parts of the jungle because you don’t know what dwells underneath there. You don’t want to find yourself in a situation you can’t sweet talk your way out of,” I said. 
“What?” He let out an airy chuckle. “Are you hiding a tank full of sirens? Or creating your own artificial intelligence?” 
With a dark look filling my eyes, I gave him a smirk before giving him my back when I heard the faint footsteps of Dorthea returning.
“Just the Japanese and Swiss,” she pointed to us. 
Jolly let out a groan. “I’m Swedish.” 
“Follow me,” she hooked a finger at us, ignoring Jolly. 
Giving the rest of my brothers a nod, we followed Dorthea down a long wide hallway, and I took in the sight of all the pictures lining the wall, noticing that they were family pictures of the McManus family. 
The first picture was of the man who started it all over one hundred years ago, Cillian McManus. It continued for a long while until Fergal’s familiar face caught my eyes, followed by his son, then Connor, then Murphy with his wife and Saiorse. 
Coming to a brief stop, I studied the picture for a long moment, before Jolly pulled me along. 
“The brothers are allowing you five minutes of their time,” Dorthea informed as we stopped in front of a set of double doors and her hands wrapped around the golden knobs. 
“How generous,” I grumbled under my breath just before the door opened. 
Inside was a huge library/office combo. Three out of four of the walls were just bookshelves full of books, the smell of old literature tickling my nose. Thick black carpet covered almost every inch of the floor and in the center of the room were two long burgundy couches that sat horizontally to an old fireplace that was blazing with hot flames. I felt the warmth on my face when Jolly and I stepped inside.  
On either couch sat the brothers, both having a glass dangling from their fingers, and their hushed conversation seized when they noticed our presence. 
“Ah,” the taller one with shorter hair muttered as he slowly stood to his feet and extended his free hand toward me. “You must be Noah. An acquaintance of mine said I’d be expecting you. I’m Conner.” 
After we shook hands, Connor motioned to the other man on the couch, who still had yet to stand up. “That is my twin brother Murphy.” 
Giving him a curt nod, I clasped my hands behind my back. “This is Joakim. We won’t take much of your time. But we do have one question to ask.” 
While Murphy muttered something in Irish under his breath, Connor urged me to ask. 
“About six months ago, a dear friend of ours Vincent Riquier was murdered, his body being left on the doorstep of my tattoo shop. I had some intel point me in the direction of someone in the Irish family.” 
Connor's brow raised as he took a small drink of his amber liquid. “Are you saying we had something to do with it?” 
Jolly shook his head. “Not at all. We were just wondering if you could let us know if our intel was correct since it came from one of your men.” 
This caused Murphy to snap his head towards us and brushed away the long hair from his face; blue eyes boring into us. “One of our men?” 
“Barry,” I said flatly. “Movie star looks. Although, I must say that was before.” 
The twins shared a look before Murphy rose to his feet with a roar. “You killed him?” 
I stood toe to toe with him, not showing him an ounce of fear because I knew guys like this could smell it. 
“Never said I did,” I answered with a shrug.
“Imigh leat,” Murphy waved a hand in my face before turning on his feet to face the fireplace. 
Connor let out a displeased noise at his brother before giving Jolly and me a tight smile, the lines in his face creasing. “You must ignore my brother, he just argued with his daughter before you arrived.” 
Saoirse’s face crept into my mind but I did my best to push away those feelings. I couldn’t give away my feelings for her; the ones that stayed buried for so long. 
“Again with this foolish dream of opening an animal rehab facility. Why she wants to work when she has all the money I can give her if she just stays here is beyond my thinking,” Murphy muttered after downing the rest of his drink, slamming the cup on the table next to the couch. 
“About Barry,” Connor ignored his brother while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “If you did kill him, one less thing for us to worry about. He was a pain in our arses anyway.” 
“So then, as a token, you’ll give us the direction we need to look into for our friend's death,” Jolly tried while scratching the facial hair on his chin. 
With Connor’s silence, his gaze locked in on us with his hand on the holster on his hip, and Murphy’s back still to us, I nodded towards Jolly, who understood and we bid the brothers goodbye. 
“Thank you for your time,” I said before ushering Jolly outside of the room before me. 
Once we were back in the solitude of the hallway, we rushed back to the foyer with a burning feeling at the back of my neck. Something wasn’t right, their silence told us way too much and I needed to get far away from here. 
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Jolly noted. 
I agreed with a low rumble in my chest, placing my hat back on. “I know. They were quick to dismiss us and I didn’t like how Connor reached for his gun.” 
Hearing our footsteps echo loudly on the marble floor, Bryan glanced up from his phone with furrowed brows. 
“That was quick.” 
“We’ll discuss it in the car,” I said while ushering everyone outside quickly. 
One by one we all piled out of the house and before I stepped through the threshold, I dared a glance back up to the stairs landing, hoping to catch sight of her but instead, I locked eyes with two large guards who had their guns in their grasp. 
“Boss, this doesn't make sense,” Roger turned swiftly on his heels and blocked me. 
“Roger, not now,” I said sternly. “Get to the car. Now.” 
“All these rumors, they had to start somewhere,” he continued to ramble on. 
I backhanded his chest and then threw a thumb over my shoulder to the men who were now descending the grand staircase. Finally, when Roger noticed them, he scrambled out the door, me swiftly following behind him. 
All of us gathered around the SUV to discuss what our next plan of action would be. There were other Irish families I could talk with but they all had connections to the McManus brothers so they wouldn’t give me anything. 
As I was chatting with Nicholas, Roger began pacing in front of the car, running a hand through his hair. 
“What’s his problem?” Nicholas mumbled to me. 
“He thinks the brothers are hiding something,” I informed him while shrugging. “I must admit, I feel the same. They were too closed off in there. And the way those guards were staring at me, I swore they were looking for a fight.” 
“In retaliation for Barry?” 
“Could be,” I ran a hand over my chin. “Or they don’t appreciate us showing up tonight. Either way, we need to get out of here.” 
Everyone began loading into the SUV, besides Roger, who was still pacing. 
“Roger, get in,” I demanded from behind the driver's door. 
"They're a bunch of liars. all of them. I bet you that broad upstairs knows something.” 
All I saw was read for a few moments before I realized that I had Roger pinned to the hood of the car by his throat, my tattooed fingers cutting off his oxygen. Strands of my hair fell into my eyes but I made no effort to let up my grip. 
“Watch how you speak about her,” I spit out. 
Roger’s eyes were white as he struggled to fight me, his nails digging into the skin of my wrist. 
“Shit,” Ash muttered while scrambling out of the car to wrap his arms around my chest, trying to pull me away. “Let him go, Noah. You’re going to kill him.” 
With an effortless grunt, I tossed Roger to the ground and did my best to fix my hair when Ash let me go as the front door of the manor opened; Saiorse walked out with the two guards following closely behind her. 
She paid us no mind as she trotted down the steps and began walking the opposite way of us. Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was 8 p.m. 
“The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.” Barry’s words from earlier rang in my ears. 
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I grumbled while adjusting my jacket. 
Roger quickly scrambled to his feet and when he finally noticed the two guards who had stopped walking to watch us with careful eyes, something switched in Roger’s mind. My jaw began to drop when I saw him reach for something underneath his shirt, my next words came out slow, almost inebriated. 
“Roger, no!” 
The sound of gunfire erupted, and all of us dropped to our knees around the car for some sort of protection. Bullets ricochet off of the car, one nearly missing my forehead as it blew the hat clear off my head. I strangled out a vacant cry while pressing my body closer to the car. My heart was beating widely in my chest and my hands shook but I didn’t have time to dwell on almost dying, I needed to stop this before it became worse than it already was. 
“Mother fucker!” 
Glancing over my shoulder, I cursed when I saw Folio go down to the ground clutching his thigh, his gun skidding halfway down the long driveway. I crawled over to him, keeping my head down when I noticed that a couple more McManus guards had emerged from inside and now we were outnumbered; seven to nine. 
Blood oozed out from the wound on Folio’s thigh and I grabbed a handful of his shirt, ripping a large piece from it. 
“You’re alright; just a flesh wound,” I reassured him while fixing the makeshift tourniquet. 
“Where the hell did Roger find a gun?” Folio asked through clenched teeth when I squeezed too hard on his wound to stop the bleeding. 
“I’m about to find out,” I patted his cheek before ripping my gun from behind my pants and clicked off the safety. 
Using the open door of the SUV as a shield, I peered around it to see that four guards were lying dead on the ground, two were hiding behind the pillars of the manor for their own protection, and one was coming towards us. 
Firing off two rounds, both hitting the mark of the guard's chest, I watched him crumble to the ground and then gave a sharp whistle towards Jolly who was firing his weapon in the car through the shot-out back windshield. 
“Two on the porch!” I yelled over the sounds of gunfire. 
Jolly nodded and I gave him protection against the other two guards who were firing their weapons from behind a bush, he snuck up to the two guards hiding on the porch, their lives ending before they even noticed him. 
Now the numbers were in our favor so slowly rising to my feet, I stepped out from my shield and called out to the last two McManus guards. 
“You’re not walking out of this alive!” 
“Imeacht go fánach ort féin is ar do chnapán miúlach!” A deep voice rumbled out from behind the bus. 
A flash of red caught my attention and I forgot for a moment that Saoirse was outside when the shootout began. I could hear my heart in my ears with worry if she’d been hit but when I saw her slowly rise to her feet due to one of the guards pushing her to farther safety, I breathed a little. 
Until a gun went off to my left and with sharp eyes, I watched as the bullet hit Saoirse in the arm, blood splattering against the fading white paint of the house. 
“Bitch! That’s for Vincent!” Roger bellowed his victory. 
I let out a vicious growl as I tackled him to the ground, laying fist after fist into his face. Poor kid never saw me coming and gave no fight against me. By the time I finished, my knuckles were broken and raw, covered in not only my blood but his as well. Roger’s face was a mangled mess as he rolled over to his side, spitting out chunks of spit mixed with blood. For a final measure, I laid a swift kick to his stomach making sure he wouldn’t get up for a while. Through the white noise in my brain, I did my best to calm my breathing when I gazed over my shoulder to the carnage that lay in our wake; all thanks to Roger’s trigger finger. 
Besides Folio, all of my men were unharmed and it seemed as if Folio would be fine. However, out of nine McManus guards, only two remain. One held something to Saoirse’s arm while the other tossed his gun to the ground, showing us he surrendered. 
“Is she alright?” I called out to them. 
“Fuck you, Noah!” She spat, eyes almost as red with fury as the color of her hair. 
Yeah, she was fine.
Through the eerie silence of the night air, I watched as the front door carefully opened then both the McManus brothers stepped into the carnage. 
“Saoirse!” Murphy’s voice boomed. 
“She’s over here!” The one guard who was tending to her wound called out while pulling them out from behind the bushes. 
I sucked in a breath when I saw all the blood staining the gray long sleeve of her sweater as the guard quickly whisked her inside, her father right on her tail. The look of pure hatred was on Connor’s face as he ran a hand through his hair. 
“Whose bullet hit my niece?” He asked. 
I pointed to the broken body of Roger, who was still struggling to rise to his feet. “I’ll take care of him, I promise you.” 
Conner gave a curt nod before hooking his finger in my direction. “You. By yourself. Now.” 
Licking my lips, I nodded and handed over my gun to Ash, who looked at me with bewilderment in his eyes. 
“Are you insane?” He demanded. “You can’t go in there by yourself.” 
“If they wanted me dead, I would be,” I said with more reassurance in my voice than I was feeling. 
Giving a soft smile to the rest of my men, letting them know I’d be fine, I stepped back inside the manor with Conner close behind. 
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SCARLETT
“What the fuck!” I screamed while pushing myself away from the table, but hissing as pain shot through my arm.
The doctor we had on standby informed me that it was merely a flesh wound I suffered and closed it up with a few stitches and some pills for the pain. 
“Watch your tongue,” my father warned while not looking away from his plate of food. 
“You just told me that I’m supposed to marry Noah Sebastian! How the fuck can I watch my tongue?! This is absurd! You can’t make that decision for me.” 
He pushed away his plate with a sigh and then steepled his fingers together. “I can because I am your father. And for the price of peace, I couldn’t deny his offer.” 
I nearly fell back into my seat at the dining room table. “His offer? This was his idea?” 
My Uncle Conner nodded. “That man is quite the negotiator. He didn’t want any more bloodshed and for a truce, he asked for your hand in marriage; we agreed on one condition.” 
“Oh, I can't wait to hear what this condition was,” I placed my hand on my hip. “Does he want a baby in a year? Do I have to abide by his command? Am I to be locked away in a castle for the rest of my life?” 
“Far from that,” my father lit his cigar, puffing the smoke into the air. “We agreed that you can marry him as long as he kill the man that shot you.” 
My eyes widened. “The kid? Fucking hell, dad! He can’t be more than twenty years old!” 
“Then he shouldn’t have been involved in a game that was designed for men!” My father’s fist slammed on the aged oak of the table. 
I didn’t even flinch, being so used to his outbursts like this. Instead, I fought back harder against this offer. 
“What about Cory?” I questioned. 
“Who?” My father’s thick brows furrowed as the age lines in his forehead creased. 
“The boyfriend,” my uncle informed him while swirling the ice cubes around in his cup. 
My father did a double take. “How the fuck do you know?” 
“Fuck you, I know shit,” he shrugged. 
“Very well,” my father sighed. “It’s not like this relationship would have worked out anyway. You will end it and move in with Noah by Friday.” 
“FRIDAY?!” I screeched. “That’s in two days!” 
“The wedding will be at the end of the month,” my uncle informed me. 
Too much information had been thrown at me all at once and I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep myself from crying. I typically wasn’t a crier but from the moment I laid my eyes on Noah Sebastian in the foyer of my home, all of my old feelings came rushing in like a tidal wave and I still didn’t have time to process that. 
“If I say no to this deal?” I shot back. 
Neither my uncle nor father said anything, simply motioned to the guns that lay next to their plates. Now, I knew they didn’t mean they would kill me. Instead, they would kill Noah and every last mother fucker who had anything to do with tonight.
“This is unbelievable!” I yelled while throwing my hands up and storming my way up the stairs to my bedroom. 
The sound of my door slamming shook the old bones of the manor and I yanked the ends of my hair with a scream. I despised not only this life but also the fact that I couldn’t do anything about this arrangement. Not when the lives of innocents were on the line. 
Innocents? They shot you! 
Shaking the thought from my mind, I fell back onto my bed with a groan. It was easy to tell that the kid was the one that started the unnecessary gunfight. Noah was only doing what he could to protect his people. 
Those gorgeous almond eyes haunted me for years, plaguing my entire existence since I first saw them freshman year of high school. I never could do anything about it, however, knowing that we ran in different circles and it was forbidden. His family ran the slums while mine ran the prestige wealth. 
The last I saw of Noah or any of those guys was the night of high school graduation. While Noah dropped out three months before, the rest of his friends walked across the stage and he was there for support. Our eyes locked across the vast space of the room. His hair was long but pulled back into a high bun, showcasing the sharpness of his cheekbones as he gave me a gentle smile. Of course, I had to ignore the pull of my heart strings, no matter how strong they were. 
If someone had told a teenage me that now, eight years later, I’d be marrying that man who captured my heart so long ago, I’d laugh in their face. 
Running a hand over my face, I sat up in bed and quickly dialed Cory’s number so I could deliver the news. On the eighth ring, he answered almost breathlessly. 
“Hello?” 
“Hi,” I played with the ends of my hair. “Do you have a minute to talk?” 
There was some rustling on his end before his breath came through. “I suppose.” 
Ignoring the tone, I took a deep inhale to prepare myself for breaking the news to him. “There’s no easy way to say this. But my father just informed me that he arranged a marriage for me. I have to move in with the guy on Friday. I tried to fight it, tried to fight for us, but I didn’t have a choice. It’s something I have to do.” 
There was a very long beat of silence on Cory’s end before his voice broke through. “Ok. Thanks for letting me know.” 
My heart dropped to the pits of my stomach. “W-what? That’s it?” 
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Scarlett? You said it yourself, you don’t have a choice in this. Why fight for something that has no end in sight?” 
I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard to not snap at him but eventually failed. 
“You know, you’re right. What’s the fucking point,” I seethed. 
Before I could hang up on him, I heard the click and stared down in disbelief at my now black screen. 
“What a piece of shit!” I bellowed while tossing my phone onto my bed. 
My knee bounced in anger, that conversation adding more fuel to the fire, and as much as I wanted to scream out my frustrations I knew that it would be futile. Instead, I dragged my feet into the large walk-in closet and began packing up things that I knew I would need in my new life. 
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NOAH
Wiping away the blood from my rings, I stepped into the lobby of the quiet tattoo shop and noticed Nicholas closing up his section. 
“How’d it go tonight?” I wondered after tossing the rag into the bag he had opened. 
The one we planned on burning anyway so any evidence would be gone in the flames. 
“Slow night but those aren’t bad every once in a while,” he answered before motioning to the door I previously walked through. “All finished?” 
“Yeah, Jolly and Folio are cleaning it up. This one was messier than I would have liked. I’ll admit, the kid put up a hell of a fight,” I said while leaning against the wall with crossed arms. 
The tattooed muscles in my forearms flexed. 
“Did he say where he found the gun?” 
“Bought it off of someone on the street before we left that night. Apparently, he had a feeling I wouldn’t allow him to have one and he felt like he needed protection,” I informed Nicholas. 
Who, in turn, snorted while packing up his tattoo gun. “A lot of good it did.” 
My lips parted to speak but with the sound of the bell dinging above the door, revealing that someone had stepped inside. 
“Sorry, we’re closed,” the words died in my throat when I saw who walked inside. 
Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, her green eyes standing out amongst everything else about her. She carried two suitcases behind her and one large duffel bag on her shoulder. 
“Hi,” I said while standing straight up. 
All of the breath inside of me left me with a whoosh of air as the excitement of our arrangement finally filled me. When I first brought up the idea to the McManus brothers, I fully expected them to deny it. Much to my surprise, they agreed almost immediately with the exception that I take care of Roger, as promised. 
Not even an hour after sending the picture to Murphy, his daughter was standing in front of me; bags in tow.
“Hi?” Saoirse scowled. “Do you know what the fuck I had to go through to get here? The number of times I had to circle the building to find somewhere to park? Two blocks away. Not to mention, how many homeless people stopped me along the way to ask for either money or drugs? And all you can say is hi?” 
Biting my lip at my smile, I walked over to the receptionist's desk to rest my elbows on it. 
“Are you finished?” I teased with a playful gleam in my eyes. 
She scoffed, appalled. “Am I finished? No, Noah. Far fucking from it. How dare you bid for my life without my consent? This isn’t the 1900’s where this was a common thing! I have a say in who I should marry!” 
“Then why are you here?” 
Saoirse pursed her lips and when I realized she had nothing to say back, I pushed off the counter to close the distance between us, my height towering over her. 
“Let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t pay for you. I don’t plan on holding you prisoner here. You have a say with anything and everything however to keep the peace from stumbling into my empire, if I had to arrange for your life, you bet your fucking ass I would do.” 
Her lips mimicked a fish and when her shoulders slumped in defeat, I held out my hand to her. “Keys.” 
“Excuse me?” She raised a brow. 
“Give me your keys. OMNS Legacy Villas has underground parking. There’s already a reserved spot for you,” I informed her. 
Shoving the keys in my hand, she sliced her eyes into me. “If it says Saoirse, change it.” 
I quickly tossed the keys to Nicholas, who understood and slipped out of the shop to retrieve her car. 
“Change it?” I repeated her words. 
“The only people who call me that are my father and uncle. Everyone else calls me Scarlett,” she tossed her bags on the ground at my feet before crossing her arms over her black sweater. 
This sass that fell from her blood-stained lips made me want to toss her onto the counter, rip off that sweater, and attack every inch of her skin with my teeth but I refrained. Instead, I brushed a hand through my hair and smiled. 
“Scarlett it is.” 
Scarlett glanced out the large window in front of the shop, watching as people walked past, every single one of them dealing with something in their own lives. The trash that littered the street was figuratively and literally. I had to admit that when I first opened up my empire here, the slums were extremely bad but with my help and funding, the streets had been cleaned up immensely; with a few stranglers still lurking around. 
Especially in the underground. 
“I don’t understand how you live here. The homeless, the drug deals, and the illegal activities I saw walking in here. It’s disgusting,” she shivered. 
I stood next to her now, stuffing my hands in the back pockets of my pants. “Welcome to the Concrete Jungle, Scarlett.” 
She turned her head up to me as I bent low towards her, my warm breath fanning those beautiful lips. “Where I’m the fucking king.” 
219 notes · View notes
floydsglasses · 4 months
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Dagger Squad as Bath and Body Works Smells
So its January and its time for B&BW to roll out the good not fruity smells so why not do this, so enjoy my unhinged ness.
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𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 "𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫" 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰-𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲
This was not that hard for me to choose, he reminds me of an old car smell, like a jeep that was hidden in a garage for to long and is now being driven. This candle smells like warm leather, amber woods and aged brandy, its described as a nightcap in your recliner.
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𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 "𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧" 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧- 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧
The irony of me finding this candle name, when i think of him like i think some type of hickory sweet honey smell, like a dive bar in the mountains. This candle smells like Warm Whiskey, Bergamot, Cedarwood & Amber and its described as warm, friendly aroma of a fresh & clean southern gentleman on date night
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𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 "𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱" 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞- 𝐑𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 & 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Honestly this whole candle to me scream's her, like the coloring remind's me of her and the whole smell, she seem's like the kind of person to wear a flannel when lounging around her house. This candle smells like, pink raspberries, strawberry vanilla bean and sugared lemon drops. and Its described as : a lightly tart and perfectly creamy treat.
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𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 "𝐁𝐨𝐛" 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝-𝐋𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠
When I think of him I think a type of sweet airy smell, like watching the morning sun in the mountains during the summer, and you cant tell me that this man doesn't remind you of just that. This candle smells like crisp autumn air, white driftwood and a hint of green apple. and is described as cool, sweet, fresh alone time on the dock.
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𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 "𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐲" 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐚- 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝
I will not lie he was kind of hard to choose for, I imagine him having a sweet smell but also obtaining this masculine wood like smell, like I can just see it. This candle smells like Red Apple, Plum, Soft Pear, Jasmine, Peony, Cedarwood, Patchouli, Vanilla, Musk and is also described as crisp woodland walk with sweet apple aroma in the air.
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𝐑𝐮𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐧 "𝐏𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤" 𝐅𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡- 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐧
I know that this might be like so basic as a masculine type smell but he just for some reason seems like he would smell like a wood barrel that has been aged perfectly, like if you opened a perfect bottle of bourbon and it tasted perfect. This candle smells like a bold, smooth, barrel-aged pour. Fragrance notes: white pepper, dark amber and Kentucky oak. and is also described as such, bold, smooth, barrel-aged pour.
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𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐲 "𝐂𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐭𝐞" 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨- 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭
It's literally in the name, he reminds me of a beach plain and simple like that, like anything this man is like golden coast. This candle smells like Bright Citrus, Cool Waters, Sea Breeze & Beach Woods. And like my description this is told to be like, The smell of cool ocean waters fills the California coast.
By the way you all can get these candle's, i dont remember the price though so dont ask me lol.
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overusedtoothbrush · 2 months
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forget the 9/11 to 50 shades of gray pipeline let’s talk about the top gun to me becoming a ny giants fan pipeline
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hangmansgbaby · 5 months
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Pucking Finally
A TGM Hockey AU | JAVY MACHADO X NATASHA TRACE | Prequel
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Javy and Nat had been on again, off again since freshman year of college, ending on off again at the time of graduation. A year later, Nat is in desperate need of a date to her cousin’s wedding where everyone is convinced her and Javy have been together for the last year and a half, including her parents. Javy agrees to pretend so long as Nat tells them they broke up soon after. A weekend together though may just make them change their minds, but will they say something or just let the opportunity for something more serious pass them by?
Series Warnings: exs to lovers, she fell first but he fell harder, Nat's cousin is a bitch, two idiots in love (I think that's it? let me know if I missed anything)
Meet the Daggers | Playlist | Taglist | Puck Around | AO3
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Epilogue
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falckie · 12 days
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Damned Man's Dawn
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The night is frigid, the sand cold like metal, I finally got the guts to pick myself up and wander away from Goodsprings, into the desert, I picked a random direction and walked.
That was a stupid idea… But ever since I woke up I've been having a lot of stupid ideas… my brain feels like it's buried beneath a thick oppressive fog of white noise. Trying to think feels like sand paper is rubbing between my neurons, my thoughts and memories now lay shattered and splattered in a dried bloody spray back at that cemetery I was dug up from.
I don't know who or what I am… The title of courier doesn't feel right… I feel like I'm someone or something else… If not just a ghost… A shell of who I once was…
And my name… I'm not even sure if it's mine, it's just the first thing that popped into my head…
Luca.
Maybe I thought I'd find answers in the desert, but all I found was some over turned train car and a lone green plastic dinosaur.
I crouch down and pick up the dinosaur curiously, examining it before setting it back down and turning to head back to Goodsprings, a sudden tingling down my spine stops me dead in my tracks followed by a overwhelming dizzy spell and a stabbing pain roaring through every nerve in my body, I fall forward, my body convulsing.
§§§
The sand feels cold… Hollow winds howling… It rattles and whispers… Hounds baying in the hunt… I feel numb… Hues of heat painted into the sky… I lost their echos, their imprints… Hope waning, hunger waxing… I have no reflection… Had I ever a home…?
★★★
A voice rouses me. Are you okay?
I snap my eyes open, staring ahead statically at the plastic green dinosaur, I glance around for the source of the voice.
The voice speaks once more. Oh, can you… Hear me? The voice… It's coming from the plastic dinosaur.
My eyes widen, I stare at the green therapod laying two feet from me in the dust, staring back at me. Slowly, I start to regain my senses and with it the cruel frigid cold of the twilight desert, I smelled blood. I narrow my eyes at the figure, the doubt over if I really did hear a voice settling in.
The voice of the dinosaur interrupts my thoughts. You can hear me, right? Look, if you can, you should really get up, you shouldn't lie here. I stare flatly at the figure, my heart pounding, it continued.
It's cold, it's dark and you're bleeding from your nose. You're going to attract something if you keep laying here like you're dead.
I recover enough from my stupor to respond. "What are you?"
I don't know, I haven't seen my reflection yet. What am I?
"A- A green plastic dinosaur… But… What are you?"
Well, I guess I'm a soul possessing a green plastic dinosaur.
"Oh… L-Like a ghost?"
Sort of... What's your name?
I blink, a cold breeze blowing over the hills causing me to shiver and curl into myself, my muscles tingling painfully. "L-Luca…"
Luca, you need to get up. It's not safe out here…
My throat feels dry, my limbs numb. "I… I can't… My limbs… C-Can't move…"
Luca, you have to try.
I sigh, shivering and coughing dryly. "I-I'm… Cold…"
I know, you should really get up.
"I…I don't think I can…"
Luca, you'll die if you don't get up. You have to get up or you'll freeze to death…
I squeeze my eyes shut, a couple crickets chirped in the grass and a lone coyote howled into the night. I grit my teeth and push myself up with my arms, my muscles tensing painfully, my nerves searing with pain. I gasp sharply, nearly collapsing back into the dust, my body feeling heavy and fatigued, the urge to give in and fall into a deep sleep overwhelming.
That's it's Luca! C'mon! That's it! Keep going!
I manage to move myself into a sitting position and pause to rest, looking towards the dinosaur, panting and shivering.
Scribbled above the figure is some graffiti, worn and faded though still legible: Mr. Cleems.
I look back down towards the dinosaur. "Is that your name?"
Huh?
"The graffiti above you."
What does it say?
"Mr. Cleems. Is it your name?"
The dinosaur is silent for a moment, as if considering something before replying. Yeah. There's a beat of silence before I resume my struggle.
With some minor difficulty I stagger to my feet, my muscles and tendons throbbing and clenching, trembling violently, I glance at the dinosaur.
"Mr. Cleems…"
Yeah?
I debate how to ask this for a few moments before resolving to simply rip the band-aid off. "Can I take you with me?"
Sure, you look like you need a guardian angel.
I smile and with a fatigued voice I cry. "Yippee." I reach over, picking up Mr. Cleems, looking at him with a newfound happiness, I turn to look towards the direction I came from, the faint glow of Goodsprings visible.
★★★
I nearly collapsed back into the dirt on the way back to Goodsprings, just managing to stagger through the door of the Prospector Saloon before my knees buckled.
The saloon was empty, save for Trudy who paused in her cleaning of the bar to investigate the distinct noise of a body hitting the floor. She rounded the corner her eyes widening the moment they locked onto my quivering form.
"Luca! My god, are you okay?" She said, rushing to my side.
Through chattering teeth I speak. "F-Fine… I'm fine…"
Trudy slung my arm around her neck and hoisted me up. "You're freezing! Did you walk out into the desert?"
I nod as she walks me over to a table and sits me down into the booth.
"What were you thinking?!" She sighs and walks to the bar. "Stay right there, I'll get you something warm to drink."
"Otay." I pull Mr. Cleems out of my pocket, examining him. The sudden urge to put him in my mouth strikes me and before I can stop myself I'm biting down on his plastic head.
The hell?! Luca! What are you doing?! Stop!
Trudy placed a mug of coffee in front of me, noticing Mr. Cleems in my mouth her face softened further.
"Are you hungry? Here, lemme get you something."
Before I could protest she was already gone, I remove Mr. Cleems from my mouth and took a sip of the coffee, letting out a strangled cry as my tongue burns.
"Careful, it's hot!" Trudy calls from somewhere within the bar.
The hell did you put me in your mouth for?
I shrug, resting my chin in my hand as I idly trace the stripes on Mr. Cleems, the soft murmuring of the jukebox in the next room over catching my attention when a familiar voice reaches my ears.
I strain my ears to listen…
"Little word has been heard from Nipton, leading to traders thinking the isolated town may be in trouble, in other news, Black Mountain radio…"
Trudy returned with a plate of iguana on a stick. "Here, eat up." I rummage through my pockets for some caps, she stops me. "It's on the house."
"But-"
Trudy raises a hand, cutting me off. "It's the least I can do after you fought off the Powder Gangers with us." With that, she returned to tending the bar, I eat in relative silence, till it's broken when I speak up.
"Hey Trudy, where can I find Nipton?"
★★★
Oh… Gods…
I stand frozen in place, my heart hammering against my chest as the smell of smoke and smoldering flesh and tires fills my lungs. I gag, stumbling back, squeezing Mr. Cleems close to my chest.
A lone flag among a blaze of branches and broken bodies flares angrily in the wind, emblazoned with the image of a yellow bull, I shudder, feeling my stomach drop upon gazing at it, I look back upon the main road, forcing myself to overcome my fawning and move my feet.
WITNESS WITNESS WITNESS
I jolt, flinching violently, the loud booming voice causing my heart to jump into my throat, quickly realizing it came from my Pip-Boy. I stare at it, holding it away from my body in fear, still in a startled state of mind as I tentatively reach a hand over to examine it when movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention, I lift my head and lock eyes with a man wearing a fox pelt. My blood runs cold, a shiver crawling down my spine.
I feel an intense pit of fear resurface within me, swimming within the very bottom of it's depths…
WITNESS WITNESS WITNESS
Rage.
★★★
The sun, blazing on as it set, bathed the sands in shades of rose and red as I left Nipton in a stupor of fear, shock and deep subtle rage, roiling beneath the surface like a mad serpent among reeds.
The words of the fox hooded man echo in the back of my mind, his voice driving me in circles as I feel recollection tugging from beyond the shattered remnants of my mind, yet a deep part of me recoiled at the fruitless attempts to piece together a memory. I feel angry at myself for letting them walk away, though I know full well that trying to fight would have been another stupid, and fatal, idea.
Cresting a hill I pause to survey my surroundings, spotting the sight of sore wounds and split skins, among the colours of dawn, the blood red crimson of the Legion…
Several soldiers sat huddled around a fire. I feel my breath hasten, my heart leaping when I pick up on my presence going unperceived, I drop down into a crouch… Drawing a weapon… My heart hammering in tune with the hammer of my gun as I open fire.
The shock on their faces is sweet, though it's quickly spoiled when their expressions change to fury, they raise their weapons and fire, I feel the bullets ripping into me, the blood pouring out, the pain screaming throughout my nervous system, pleading me to lay down my weapon and run, but I push it away and pursue this rage roiling within, deep down beneath layers and layers of deeply set fear and sadness, like a sea of echos who's origins are lost, the serpent below breaking free, hissing with a newfound venom.
I feel death breathing down my neck, it's a familiar feeling, how she danced with me the night I lost everything.
And I'll keep dancing, I'm not too good at it but I'll learn how to be better so I can be the best damn dancer for death. I'll waltz with broken bones, through burning buildings and into blossoming battlefields, bound to her like atoms in the center of a star.
I stand among the carnage, looking at my now bent and stained machete and back at the corpses around me, the full weight of what I've done hits me like a truck, I feel a sickness in my stomach, though it's only brief as I remember the faction of monsters these people came from, I turn away, averting my eyes, a wave of exhaustion seeping into me, my clothes soaked with blood, my body sore and wounded, I stumble away from the gruesome scene to find a place to rest my weary body.
§§§
Foxes, Dogs, Wolves and Coyotes. Fleeting is the Fox though he is the first, oh what future does he bring with his false face? Foxes, Dogs, Wolves and Coyotes. Dangerous is the dog, how they dig through the dust and drag you into the dark. diving, drowning, dancing… Foxes, Dogs, Wolves and Coyotes. Wailing and wise is the Wolf who learns, their will is strong but wary of wit from the west. Foxes, Dogs, Wolves and Coyotes. Coy you are, Coy You'll be, careful and calculating, come crimson and crows, clean and cold you'll be in clearing and cutting.
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whiskeyswriting · 1 year
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Waking Up Dreaming
| For: @callsignscupcake |
| Song: Waking Up Dreaming by Shania Twain |
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Cupcake and Coyote’s anniversary party was the talk of the town. He gifted her with a new horse and she helped him rescue a coyote pup. Their own plans were derailed with the sudden snowfall but they still enjoyed their anniversary party when it was moved to the next day and indoors. As they are having their morning coffee, Cupcake turns to Coyote and tells him “So let's start waking up dreamin'.And dress up crazy like superstars…” He smiles widely. “Let’s go my love.”
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Cowboy AU 🏷️ List: @askmarinaandothers @bayisdying @breadsquash @callmemana @dragon-kazansky @callsignscupcake @callsignthirsty @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @gracespicybradshaw @mischief-siriusly-managed @starlit-epiphany @heyriojude
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dakotakazansky · 1 year
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Cast / Playlist
Lt. Dakota 'Kota' "Ghost" Kazansky Sofia Carson
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Lt. Jake "Hangman" Seresin Glen Powell
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Lt. Tatum 'Tate' "Villain" Thatcher Florence Pugh
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The rest of the top gun Maverick Cast as their respective characters
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Top Gun: Maverick or the Characters, i only own the idea/characters of both Kota Kanzasky and Tatum Thatcher.
Playlist:
If you want to listen to songs that have inspired me in some way shape or form for this story, you can follow the link to my Ghost playlist on Spotify or use the Spotify code to get there.
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Ghost Spotify Playlist
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dlsocp · 1 year
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Before We Start...
I am not related to or affiliated with the show Sister Wives, Kody Brown, any of his 18 children, 3 former wives, 1 current wife, anyone he may be courting currently, anyone he may have courted in the past, or TLC. Truth be told I haven’t even seen every single episode--though I have seen most of them and I doooo watch a ton of reality tv gossip on Youtube and I totally follow these people on social media. It’s my guilty pleasure. If you’re here, it’s because you relate. Everything you will read outside of this post will be a figment of my overactive imagination, and is meant purely for fun. In this case yes I’ll be using names of REAL people who DEFINITLY exist, but for all intents and purposes in this they will be characters. I will draw inspiration from the show, from Youtube videos, social media posts, gossip magazines, and website achieves (because once it’s on the internet, it’s always on the internet.)
I can not stress enough that none of this is to be taken as fact!!!! I hope this will all be taken with a grain of salt, as good fun. I can’t think of another family with kids who grew up on camera under unusual circumstances who have as adults not had a major scandal, and I don’t see it happening either. Like, none of these kids are drug addicts, or getting arrested or murdering anyone!!! The odds were against them, man, but they all seem like respectable and loved members of their communities. That’s commendable af.
I’ve been making fun of reality TV since survivor came out when I was 8 years old. Later on when I was closer to 16, my mom and I would go shopping and do accents pretending to be Heidi Klum and Tim Gunn....analyzing my outfit options as if we were critiquing them to see if they could make it to the final round. And before you say it, yes, my mom IS that great!
I have me a fancy Bachelor of Arts degree in Media & Communication Arts from Pace University. That degree had writing enhanced courses, a ton of journalism courses, writing seminars, and that’s always been my jam! I can express myself through written word so much better than speaking out loud, and I’ve always written. I was the kid who said “YESSSS!” when the teacher announced that the test would be nothing but essay questions.
I can argue any point in writing, even points I don’t agree with. I can go anywhere, and I’m not limited to things like gravity, money, time, the weather, or the laws of physics! I’ve always been drawn to writing, and have used writing to cope with whatever was going on at that time. Starting with writing short stories about flushing the school bully down the toilet, to a screen play about exacting revenge after I’d had my trust broken, to get my final credits for my bachelors degree.
It was only recently I realized I could put the two together. I’m not aware of any Sister Wives Fanfics, and I was recently commenting on a video by RealiTeaSquad when it hit me that I had a great idea for a totally non-sexual silly fanfiction. I’ll try to watch my language so many ages can enjoy this, but I swear like a sailor, so I make no promises.
I am also hoping to work on a few other projects:
Sausage Queen: A Royal Spicy Italian Sausage with super powers who saves the day in her underwear, pretty self explanatory
The Chonky Princess: An over-weight princess with an endocrine disorder doesn’t let her weight keep her from keeping up with the other princesses at princess boarding school. 
Low-Budget Laura: A Blog with tips for low-budget livin’! You know, ballin’ on a budget! Where to shop, coupons, deals, life hacks, recipes, “jazzin it up”, crafts, and more!
Hopefully I’ll be able to get enough of those done to start being able to link to them soon! And I’ll be starting to work on chapter one and publishing it soon! I’m really excited about this, and if anyone ever wants to contribute ideas or art work or whatever I’m so into it! Eventually I’d like to do a dramatic reading with different voices for different characters in a youtube video. Just bare with me as all of this will be done in my spare time and I do have a 41 year old man-child to care for and 2 dogs and of course a whole life--I mean who am I kidding I have no life lol!!! but I’m just throwing it out there I will try to release at least one chapter a week and keep it flowing regularly, but clearly providing for my loved ones will always come first as it should for you as well!
Anywho, make good choices and I’ll be publishing Chapter 1 soon!!! Stay tuned!!!
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ekho-ekho-ekho · 1 year
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back when I worked in a used bookstore, I happened upon an essay written by George Orwell titled “Bookshop Memories.” for some years, when Orwell first got started writing, he worked part-time in a used bookshop in London. Orwell spends most of the essay on a truly savage cross-section of The Public, written in the unique tone of a retail employee at a heavily romanticized job—a juxtaposing mix of wonder, disappointment, exasperation, and blunt economical respect that I, working in a bookshop on the other side of the world some 75 years later, could nonetheless relate to.
I left that job about six years ago, yet certain turns of phrase from “Bookshop Memories” still live in my head rent-free... none more so than this:
“Many of the people who came to us were of the kind who would be a nuisance anywhere but have special opportunities in a bookshop. For example, the dear old lady who [ . . . ] read such a nice book in 1897 and wonders whether you can find her a copy. Unfortunately she doesn’t remember the title or the author’s name or what the book was about, but she does remember that it had a red cover.”
Orwell wrote “Bookshop Memories” in 1936, I read "Bookshop Memories” around 2015, and I swear we met the same dear old lady. I think she’s like an npc that just appears in used bookstores at random. I think she’ll outlive us all. I think after the universe burns out and collapses in on itself and then explodes anew to create the next generations of atoms and stars and planets and lifeforms and languages and used bookstores, she will be there first in line, wanting to know if they have a book with a red cover. I don’t fear many things about growing older, but I am terrified of becoming this woman. in short: I am not proud of this post. I am not proud in the least.
but.
there was this book I read, oh, twenty years ago, ‘round the turn of the century (I love saying that). it was at a library in Alabama; I was maybe nine years old and a voracious reader, yet this one novel always stuck with me. unfortunately... *sigh* I can’t remember the title. or the author’s name. though I do remember the cover was in sepia with pen-and-ink art.
I hope it’s at least partially redemptive that I remember... some of the plot?
the book was written (mostly?) from the perspective of a coyote; in my mind, it took place around the 1930s-ish, but the setting was all very rural and keep in mind, I was nine, so honestly it could’ve been anywhere from the ‘20s to like, the ‘60s. (likewise, the book could have been published anywhere in that same time frame—it had definitely been at the library for a while.) as near as I can figure, some kid finds the coyote as a pup and I think thought he was a dog? and tried keeping him as a pet? anyway, when the coyote’s grown he somehow runs off or gets lost, idk, and has to learn to survive in the wild. at one point the coyote is starving until he sees a fox pouncing on crickets and copies it; toward the end, the coyote ends up in a local zoo, where the kid who’d kept him as a pet happens to visit and recognizes him. those are the only two scenes I remember clearly, but they’re vivid.
and look, I did not want to make this your problem, Internet. I really didn’t. but I hope you can believe me when I say that I cannot find this book online, no matter what combination of keywords I use. so, please, if you’re reading this, if this book sounds familiar to you, if you too have weirdly specific memories attached to it, PLEASE tell me. tell me anything you know. this is driving me fucking bananas.
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icemanontop · 3 months
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i always refer to Rooster and Hangman by their names (Bradley and Jake) and i sometimes do the same with the dagger squad (natasha/ javy/ mickey) and i was talking to my sister and she was like “Coyotes real name is Javy??” and then i realised that in the movie all of their actual names are never really said except for Bradley’s who was mentioned like twice and that i infact have read so much fan fiction i’ve somehow memorised all their names.
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topguncortez · 3 months
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G'S SLUMBER PARTY
welcome welcome welcome:)
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you can pick from any of the following prompts lists or come up with your own!
smut prompts
fluff prompts
angst promps
OC asks
you can also send in ideas for:
moodboards
playlists
or simply slide into my asks to chat!
who to request?:
all characters, my OCs, and slash pairings :)
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tagging: @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @mayhem24-7forever @ohtobeleah @sunlightmurdock @roosterbruiser @bradleybeachbabe @seresinsbabe @roosterdobson no pressure!
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thefallennightmare · 2 months
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The Coyotes Cry-Noah Sebastian[AU]
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Centered on the story of a young bride whose fairy-tale vision of the Concrete Jungle is shattered when her father, part of the Irish Crime Family; McManus strikes a marital peace deal with the mafia head of OMNS, Noah Sebastian. Scarlett is faced with rage and conflict, as she is forced to work alongside her new husband in his tattoo shop that fronts for his mafia dealings. Devastating events leave Scarlett with the realization that there is more to Noah than meets the eye. "I would willingly, lay down my life for you if I had to." The power of love is thicker than blood.
Pairings: MafiaBoss!TattooArtist! Noah Sebastian x OFC.
Warnings/Tropes: violence, death, swearing, smut(very mature), angst, fluff, forced proximity, forbidden love, dark romance, mafia themes, arranged marriage, tattoo artist.
*-smut
IN PROGRESS
Mood Board by @madomens
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ONE | TWO-coming soon
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floydsglasses · 4 months
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𝙓-𝙈𝙚𝙣 𝙈𝙪𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙨-DAGGER EDITION
{All Daggers+Iceman, Maverick, Goose and Slider included}
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𝗕𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗹𝗲𝘆 "𝗥𝗼𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿" 𝗕𝗿𝗮𝗱𝘀𝗵𝗮𝘄- 𝗝𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗟𝗼𝗴𝗮𝗻 𝗛𝗼𝘄𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁/𝗪𝗼𝗹𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗲
"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘊𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘎𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺."
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𝗝𝗮𝗸𝗲 "𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗺𝗮𝗻" 𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗻-𝗦𝗰𝗼𝘁𝘁 𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿𝘀/𝗖𝘆𝗰𝗹𝗼𝗽𝘀
"𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭��𝘥… 𝘟-𝘍𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘔𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯 𝘶𝘴… 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱… 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺."
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𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗮 "𝗣𝗵𝗼𝗲𝗻𝗶𝘅" 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲- 𝗝𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗚𝗿𝗲𝘆
"𝘖𝘩, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘬𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭."
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𝗥𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘁 "𝗕𝗼𝗯" 𝗙𝗹𝗼𝘆𝗱-𝗕𝗼𝗯𝗯𝘆 𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗸𝗲/𝗜𝗰𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗻
"𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥?"
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𝗠𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘆 "𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗯𝗼𝘆" 𝗚𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗶𝗮- 𝗞𝘂𝗿𝘁 𝗪𝗮𝗴𝗻𝗲𝗿/𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘄𝗹𝗲𝗿
"𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯, 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘣𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯… 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵."
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𝗥𝘂𝗲𝗯𝗲𝗻 "𝗣𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸" 𝗙𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵-𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝗠𝗰𝗖𝗼𝘆/𝗕𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁
"𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯."
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𝗝𝗮𝘃𝘆 "𝗖𝗼𝘆𝗼𝘁𝗲" 𝗠𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼- 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻 ||| /𝗔𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹
"𝘚𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳… 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳… 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯… 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 -- 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 -- 𝘐 𝘢𝘮. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵."
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𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲 "𝗠𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸" 𝗠𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹- 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗫𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗲𝗿/𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗿 𝗫
"𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘯 𝘐𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘈𝘤𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘗𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳, 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘜𝘴𝘦 𝘖𝘳 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘖𝘧 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘗𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘐𝘴 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨."
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𝗧𝗼𝗺 "𝗜𝗰𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗻" 𝗞𝗮𝘇𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗸𝘆- 𝗘𝗿𝗶𝗸 𝗟𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗿/𝗠𝗮𝗴𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗼
"𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘈𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐𝘵 𝘋𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘜𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥."
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𝗡𝗶𝗰𝗸 "𝗚𝗼𝗼𝘀𝗲" 𝗕𝗿𝗮𝗱𝘀𝗵𝗮𝘄-𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗠𝗮𝘅𝗶𝗺𝗼𝗳𝗳/𝗤𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀𝗶𝗹𝘃𝗲𝗿
"𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰."
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𝗥𝗼𝗻 "𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿" 𝗞𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿- 𝗩𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱/𝗦𝗮𝗯𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗼𝘁𝗵
"𝘚𝘰'𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘮𝘦 -- 𝘪𝘴 𝘵'𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦!"
ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
SO after my crappy week im gifting you all this gift! This was fun and kind of hard but what do you all think! HOW ABOUT A POSSIBLE PART 2 @icezansky told you not to give me ideas 🤭
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hangmansgbaby · 5 months
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Pucking Finally O N E
Masterlist
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Seeing him walk through the doors of the hotel was like a shot in the heart. One year is not enough time to fully get over someone, but god is it good to see Javy Machado again.
“Hey, you look nice.” He smiles and it takes everything in me not to blush.
“I’m more so shocked you actually showed up.” I say, trying to find a way to not sit awkwardly in the middle of the hotel lobby. “Uhm, I already checked us in. Our rooms are a across from each other so–"
“Two rooms?” That wasn't the question I was expecting from him. I pull out the two keys and hand him his.
“All the rooms with two beds were taken and I figured you wouldn’t want to share a bed.” I explain, shrugging a little too nonchalantly.
“So…yeah. Two rooms.” He nods but doesn’t smile. Not a happy or a sympathetic grin either. Nothing at all. “Is something wrong?” I ask worriedly.
“Sorry, it’s just…” Javy takes a breath before leading me to the elevators and speaking at the same time. “It’s been a long time. How have you been, Natty?” Heat rises to my cheeks when he uses my old nickname.
“Good, good.” I nod, trying my best to make my face lighten up. “How about you?”
“Great. Just busy playing hockey as usually.” He smirks.
“How is it? Everything you hoped for?" I ask as the elevator doors open, we step in and the doors close, shrouding us from the outside world.
"Its great actually. I've made a few good friends on the team."
"That's great." We're silent for the rest of the ride, but is wasn't awkward. In fact it was comfortable. Like old times. The elevator stops and the doors open. "Let's get to our rooms then.” I walked ahead of him and just when I get my door open he speaks up.
"Hey Natty, so about this weekend."
"Yea?" I ask, turning back.
"Wanna come over in say, 10 ish minutes and build a back story?"
"Sure, see you in a bit." I smile as I shut the hotel door and release the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I had completely forgotten about the need to build a back story. Well fuck. This was going to be harder than I thought.
Asking Javy to pretend with me is allot easier than actually doing it. I can't lie to my own family, I'm sure they'll know, if they don't already. Or maybe they just won't care. Either way, someone's getting hurt, and I'm pretty sure it'll be me.
Taglist: @mamachasesmayhem @sarahsmi13s @kmc1989 @daggerspare-standingby
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[Text: Tell me, what do you think of people actually liking the character development in season 4-5 and the show's treatment of mental health? [Redacted] thinks that and she's the mother of a teenager]
Re liking the show: I generally assume that they have poor taste and/or media literacy.
Re the mental health rep: I generally assume that they're incredibly privileged and/or ignorant.
I'm posting this as an image and not an ask response specifically because I will not participate in fandom drama or shaming. This blog exists specifically so that people can actively choose to engage in my content and so that I can post critical thoughts without dragging their source into some petty fight. So I'm not going to talk about the named individual. Instead, I'll replace them with the show's head writer and talk about him in a similar context.*
He's pretty famously denied that Chloe suffered any abuse, ignoring her obvious neglect, which came from both parents, just in different forms. When you pair that with how the show handles people like Gabe and Jagged Stone, we see a clear pattern of the show ignoring the devastating effects that abandonment and neglect can have on a person, especially if they're a child.
Now you could look at that and say, "The head writer condones abuse! He's a monster!" But I prefer to go the more likely route and assume that he's a privileged middle-class cis white man who has never had to deal with those issues or support someone who has, so he has no idea how to handle them properly or that they even need to be properly handled. There's every chance that he's a loving, kind man and a fantastic father who just happens to not be very good at writing a complex topic that he clearly has no understanding of or desire to learn about. I apply similar logic to fans who share his opinions. Never attribute to malice what can be explained by incompetence or ignorance.
And all of the above is assuming that we're talking about someone who thinks that the show is objectively good or that the mental health rep is good, which are big assumptions. It's fully possible to enjoy a piece of media that you know is objectively bad or even "problematic" in some way.
Personal confession time: is Loonatics Unleashed an objectively terrible show that you should never, ever watch? Absolutely. 100%. Are Rev Runner and Tech E. Coyote two of my favorite characters who will live rent free in my head until the day I die? Yep! I pulled up a YouTube highlight real as I was writing this and those dorks still make me smile even though the show is terrible on multiple levels and I know that I'm not alone in that sentiment. Those two clicked with a lot of people for some reason.
A piece of fiction need not be good for you to love it and you don't need to justify your love for a piece of fiction if you're not claiming that it's good. Similarly, people hating that piece of fiction or pointing out flaws in it is not a reflection on you in any way shape or form. You can even agree with their criticism and still love the piece of fiction. This approach to media - loving a thing in spite of its flaws - is normal and healthy and I'd really love to see it make a comeback in younger fandoms.
Like, I cannot emphasize this enough, most fandoms consider it perfectly normal to have lots of fans who are critical of the source or who have even lost interest in the source for one reason or another, but they still like some element of the source enough to want to create/consume fan content for it. These more critical fans arguably make some of the best fan content because looking at canon and saying "That's nice, let me show you how I'd do it" often leads to some of the most complex stories that you'll see in fandom spaces. Stories that can often blow canon out of the water for TV shows and movies since fanfic isn't limited by budgets or studio policies or marketability concerns. Fans who think that the source is perfect tend to just write fluff or romcom type fics, which is not a dig! I love bother of those genres! But woman does not live on fluff alone.
Obviously there's some complexity here because who decides if a show is bad? Saying "it's okay that you like a terrible thing" can certainly sound like an insult and prompt a feeling of needing to defend the thing, which is why I don't fight with fans who like the show. There's really no need to convince them that the thing they like is bad. Do I think it is? Yes. Does it matter if they disagree? No, not really. At worst, they create stories with similar issues and, well, they're not the only ones and fighting with them isn't going to stop them. You're much better off focusing on creating your own good media and trying to get that popular. Heck, even if you made the head writer see all of Miracuous' flaws, it wouldn't change anything. The show is already made.
So, yeah, I don't really assume anything bad about people who think that miraculous is good. I know lots of wonderful people who have terrible taste in media and I'm still friends with them. I just don't take recommendations from them.
It's important to remember that, when you're online in a fandom space, a person is condensed down to a very tiny snapshot of who they are and judging a person solely off of their thoughts regarding a poorly written kids show is a dangerous path to tread. Like, looking at this blog, you might assume that I spend all of my time thinking about miraculous and obsessing over its flaws, which is very much not the case. I actually have this blog specifically so that I don't obsess over miraculous' flaws because I've found that, when something is bothering me, writing it down or talking to someone about it is the best way to stop thinking about it. Even then, most of my posts are reblogs of stuff I come across while browsing my tumblr feed, which is not solely miraculous content. I mostly interact with the show by creating non-salty fanfic that I honestly enjoy writing and find to be a relaxing, positive outlet.
It's human nature to judge and it's totally normal to think that a person's an idiot because of something they post online, but be careful to not lean into those thoughts too hard. At the end of the day, Miraculous is just a stupid kids show that will fade from the popular consciousness a few years after it stops airing. If it and/or the fandom are negatively affecting your mental health, then it's okay to step away for a while or use the block button. It really is your best friend. I enjoy being critical about Miraculous specifically because it's not that important. While I do think that kids deserve better media, I don't think Miraculous is some terrible evil harming the youth. I'm not horrified when a kid watches it, it's just not a show that I'd encourage them to watch and, if the kids was close to me, we'd spend a lot of time talking about the bad things that the show showcases from time to time. There are lots of episodes that are fine and I can think of way worse kids shows. Shows that tell their horrifying morals really well, making a kid far more likely to pick up on them and internalize them.
*Note that I only feel comfortable talking about the head writer like this because he's a public figure with an active social media presence AND because I'm not @ing him. If he was a private person or if he was not a professional creator, then I would not talk about him like this and even in that context I try to avoid it whenever I can. You can think that he's a terrible writer, but he's still a human being and, as far as I'm aware, nothing he's done deserves people harassing him.
I absolutely understand how devastating it can be to see a story you love get ruined by the creative team. The first time that happened to me, the life lesson I came away with was, "I will no longer put my happiness in the hands of another creator. I will enjoy stories, but I will temper my expectations and remember that they're just another human being and it's completely possible that their vision for this seemingly awesome story may end up being terrible."
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