southern manner

i can see jack going to open the car door for bitty but bitty running to open the car door for bc years of southern manners™ being drilled into his head make him determined to open that damn door for his bf but then they get confused as to whose driving

anonymous asked:

Would you be willing to write the "I think I'm in love with you" sentence starter for deadlock mccree (assuming it's shortly before he leaves so he's like 17) and a fem s/o who ends up going with him to blackwatch?

“I think I’m in love with ya!”

Your eyes go round, your entire body freezing for a moment before the sound of a bullet ricocheting off of metal makes you duck back down, mind still shell shocked, your machine pistol going slack in your hand. Your eyes watch as Jesse stands, eyes narrowing as he fires off four successive shots before dropping to his knee behind the mangled train car, looking at your bashfully. He looks more nervous to face you after his admission than he does at the fact gunfire is raining down on the both of you. Your heart sped up impossibly fast before a soft whine broke from your lips, quickly followed by a stunned, breathless laugh.

“Really Jess”, you asked, yanking him by the collar to pull him away from a shot that you felt came uncomfortably close. The absurdity of the situation left you feeling dizzy, off kilter, adrenaline controlling more of your action than logic. “Of all the time ta tell me, ya wait til we’re bein’ shot at? Really?”

Deadlock had finally bitten off more than they could chew and were, in turn, ambushed for it. The train that was supposed to be full of weapons actually was empty. A dozen Overwatch agents had taken up position in several of the train cars and had surged out when the two in the lead had approached their car. From there, it turned into a shit show. Jacob, who was in charge of the detonating the explosives that were supposed to cut off a police response blew the charges early, sending the middle of the train plummeting into the canyon below. You and Jess had fell directly in front of the Panorama Diner, his arms wrapped around you before the two of you scrambled up and out when you heard a shout in Spanish from your side then more gunfire.

“Well you know I got impeccable timing darlin”, McCree teases, grabbing your forearm and pulling you with him as both of you began to fall back towards the small cave carved into the overpass. If you could make it there then you could keep falling back until you both were safe. “Reckon there ain’t no time like the present!”

Shoving your weapon into the holster, your hand dropped to your side pack, pulling out a ping pong ball that housed an impact smoke bomb. As the both of your legs pumped, you threw the homemade explosive to the ground, not turning as smoke began to cover your tracks. You stumbled over a larger rock, Jesse slowing for a brief moment to steady you before his hand grabbed yours, fingers lacing together as you ran. Neither of you wanted to go to jail…or worse. This isn’t the life either of you wanted but this was the hand you had been dealt. Orphaned by a war that you didn’t understand when you were kids, forced into an overly clogged foster system only to fall to the wayside, snatched into the waiting jaws of the Southwest’s ugly underbelly.  Deadlock greedily fed on the underprivileged, the exploited, the neglected and brought them into their illegal enterprise, promising family and protection for a price. The both of you had paid it in spades; whether murdering or weapons smuggling, robbery or extortion, the both of your allegiance to Deadlock trumping morality. Still neither of you wanted to die, and neither of you wanted the other to die either. So you would run.

“Always the romantic weren’tcha”, you shouted breathlessly as he yanked you into the tunnel that cut through the mountain, a haphazardly dug out hole in the redstone.

The sound of gunfire continued outside, shouts in Spanish and English, in a variety of accents filling the air but not quite reaching the area you two were hiding in. You and Jesse sucked in heaving breaths, hands still laced, Jesse cradling Peacekeeper to his chest with one hand. He winked at you playfully as the both of you leaned forward, finally acknowledging the comment you had made. Your breathing finally levelled out but that didn’t stop the thundering of your heartbeat in your chest as the truth forced itself up in this brief moment of calm.

You loved him too. You had loved him since you were 13 and he had brought you food and made you laugh after your very first hit. You had loved him since the moment the two of you had gotten drunk off of homemade tequila and spilled your life stories to one another, shoulders touching, knees bumping before falling asleep innocently tangled in one another’s arms. You had fallen in love with cinnamon colored eyes filled with laid back mirthfulness and cunning, unruly brown hair that was softer than you’d ever thought, with tawny skin that was constantly kissed by the sun, covered in tattoos and scars and more and more body hair. With his charming southern mannerisms mixed with fluent Spanish, even that damned cowboy hat and serape he insisted on wearing. You were in love with Jesse McCree and he had finally said the words that you craved to hear.

Outside sounds seemed to dull for a moment as you swallowed, stomach in your throat. Jesse was peeking around the corner once more to determine if it was safe to run or not, your eyes boring into his back.

“Y/N we ma–”, he started before cutting himself off, his brow furrowing at the intense look you had fixed him with. His eyes went a little round as they danced over you before jumping back to your face, worry coloring his features. “Hey, darlin’ are you alright? You ain’t been hit no–”

“I love ya too Jess”, you said quickly, the words quickly tumbling out of your mouth, watching as his brow relaxed before his eyes grew rounder than they had been the moments before. Your hand squeezed his tightly, biting down on your bottom lip but refusing to break eye contact with him. You fidgeted but kept speaking as you watched unabashed joy began to dance in his eyes, over his features. “I…I been in love with ya for a long while now Jess…I just…I just didn’t wanna mess up what we had…y’know?”

Jesse yanked your arm, pulling your body into his and wrapping his arms tightly around you. Despite the fact there was a firefight going on right outside, regardless of the fact danger lurked right around the corner, the both of you held one another tight. Relieved happiness unwound the anxiousness in your bodies, the satisfaction of knowing you not only loved but were loved in return filling the both of you up with joy. The found of a gunshot at the mouth of the cave tore the two of you apart, flustered smiles resting on both of your faces as you began towards the other end of the tunnel.


The barrel of two shotguns were aimed at either one of you, a tall Black man in a beanie frowning heavily at the both of you. Jesse’s hand had tightened around Peacekeeper, the weapon hanging loosely at his side as your own hand hovered over your own holstered gun. The sound of the hammers on both guns shoved ice into both of your veins as you both glanced at each other. You both were silently questioning one another, something that you had done a million times, assessing if you could manage to get away. Your leg twitched as if you would move backwards, the sound of someone coming up behind you making your head twist. You were effectively trapped. McCree lifted his right hand first, Peacekeeper hanging loosely off of his fingers and you followed suite.

“Woah there”, he said softly, trying to work that affable charm of his in the dangerous situation, something he had a knack for. “Now why don’t we all calm down and work outta deal here.”

((Didn’t quite get to the Blackwatch part but let’s just say he offers his skill for her safety lol))

Leaving is Hard to Do - Jim Kirk

Summary: drinkin’ while you’re in love with jim but are too scared to tell him lest it destroy your friendship. 

Word count: 2,361

Warnings: language, alcohol

A/N: isn’t the title funny? it’s a play on “breaking up is hard to do” fjgkdjfhg i love myself. this is slightly sad but i love it for some reason. i think i just love jim so i keep writing him and literally no one else. ENJOY IT AND LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

You didn’t understand Jim’s flirting technique at all but, on the contrary, you greatly understood how he managed the success rate he did. You attributed it to the “love is blind” cliche— only edited.

“Lust is deaf,” you called it.

He would put his foot in his mouth repeatedly as he spoke to anyone he was attracted to— he would rattle off ridiculous inquiries you could recall being the audience to during your years at the Academy.

Of course, those questions came from eighteen year-old boys with inexplicably high confidence levels that verged on total narcissism and inexplicably low sensitivity levels that verged on sociopathy.

In Jim’s case, however, the questions would be asked with such little interest it was as if he was reading the same tired script printed onto the walls of his scotch glass.

It didn’t matter what Jim said, though. After all, who could resist his unbelievably electric blue eyes and unnecessarily bright smile that appeared to be illuminated by starlight?

He stood with his side leant against the edge of the bar counter, his elbow resting atop the presumably sticky surface— it made you feel bad for his worn grey leather jacket that was probably bearing the brunt of the stickiness. His eyes were narrowed by the magnitude of his close-lipped smile. He brought the rim of his glass to his lips and glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

You just snorted and sat back against the booth you occupied.

Your fingertip swirled patterns against the table as you heard the leather bench across from you squeak with newly added weight. Without looking up, you shook your head. “Not interested.”

“Neither am I, darlin’.”

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More Canon Era Jamilton + protective!Washington

Ok so, I’ve thought a little bit more about it now I’m just sunk in deep

First off, we all know that Alexander and Washington had some father/son side relationship no matter how much Hamilton wants to deny it. And anyway, everyone else in congress knows about this as well! So what about Thomas asking George for Alexander’s hand in marriage but being denied multiple times

So historically, Thomas was a gentlemen and I like to believe that so is this Thomas but I can also see him as stubborn and determined. Alexander is happy just dating and being with Thomas but Thomas has been wanting to taking it to the next step for years and is just now getting the nerve to ask George.

(Remember in Stay Alive, where Alex asks the general everyday to “take command” and George is always saying “no” without a another word? That is what happens to Thomas)

So Thomas asks him one day and then gets rejected with a thought out explanation (that is almost on the board edge of “no one is good enough for my son” kind of deal) But Thomas takes the answer and returns home to Alex only to get enough courage to ask again the next day.

This goes on for months! Thomas asking everyday, show time after time of how well he takes care of Alex, supports him, treats him, spoils him, listens to him, loves him! But George is still like “No. that’s my son”

Of course Thomas could of asked anyway without his permission but technically, George isn’t his father but Thomas knows enough that if he did that, George would hate him.

Alexander is oblivious to the whole thing, just happy being with Thomas. Finally having debates with him that end in kisses instead of fists and a warm body to return to at night. An equal.

After another rejection, Thomas gets fed up and blows up on Washington. Rants to him for 30 minutes about how much he would fight for him, love him, cherish him, hell, he would even switch parties just for the sake of making him happy if he ever asked. And Thomas is red faced and screaming and so frustrated that no matter what, George won’t listen.

He still gets a No

Tired, Thomas returns to his office crushed that not even a heartfelt one man screaming match was enough to change the presidents mind.

Just then, Alex comes in and upon witnessing his lover so distraught, comforts him and asks him what made him so upset. So Thomas does the unthinkable.

He gets down on one knee and asks Alexander to marry him and goes on and on about how much he loves him and how much he’s willing to do just for him.

Alex says yes.

But it doesn’t answer his previous answer so he asks again.

Thomas tells him the truth about going to Washington to get his blessing and being rejected over and over. Alexander hits him with a book to the chest.

“You don’t need anyone’s permission to marry me! Not the presidents! Not Eliza! Not my friends! I’m my own person who’s make his own path and I choose who I shall marry and I chose you”

They end up telling George and Thomas is terrified but equally determined to fight for his love. Instead, he is given a warm smile and a pat to the arm.

“I was wondering when you would do it.”

George wasn’t about to give Thomas his blessing because he never needed it in the first place and he had to make sure that Thomas was true to his word and would do anything for Alexander, including going against his southern mannerisms and marrying another without a blessing.

True to his word, they married and Thomas did everything he promised and more.

I just….George understanding his role in Alexander’s life is so important. I know George wants to be seen as Alexanders dad but Alexander doesn’t want that (even if it slips a few times) so he has to have a balancing act of protecting Alex and understanding his won individualism.


My Overwatch Fancasting
(not yet complete)

So I’ve been cruising along doing this fancast when I hit a snag by watching Powerless last night and seeing Gerrard Lobo on it and realizing “I’ve seen him on Master of None” and then my brain went “what if he was McCree” and it won’t shut up!!!!

Imagine him as an Indian/Pakistani kid who is recruited from a drama class by Vishkar and sent to SW to infiltrate gangs in community. (All the Southern mannerism & western dress is an act!)

He takes initiative and joins Overwatch when it shuts down his Deadlock gang.

McCree deliberately became close to Genji because he is a Shimada and Vishkar are trying to gain influence in Japan.

McCree setting explosion (or maybe just not warning about explosion) in Swiss HQ because Morrison being taken out would have increased Vishkar influence in Overwatch. (He is actually upset about death of Reyes with whom he has grown close.)

When Lucio joins OW recall, McCree is very friendly but he is also feeding information to Vishkar that sabotages Lucio’s efforts in Brazil.

Symmetra, McCree is very cautious about getting close to because he isn’t 100% sure she won’t make him (she shouldn’t have had clearance high enough to know about his involvement but..). His reticence is dismissed as mild paranoia over Vishkar having a bounty on him.

Hanzo joining OW recall could start out business as usual and be a catalyst for change in McCree’s POV (what is Vishkar actually doing to help him, after all).

Shore Leave : Midnight Whiskey

Summary: Jim x Reader x Leonard:  It all started when the crew of the Enterprise took some much needed shore leave on Yorktown. On the first night, you decide to go out with Scotty, Jim and Bones to the local bar. It’s when Scotty calls it quits for the night that things took a turn for If “best” meant being in between the most handsome men on the U.S.S Enterprise. Nothing like a good ole romp in the sack with the Captain & Doctor, at least for one night. One night, right? Or will this be the best shore leave you ever had?

Part One - Midnight Whiskey   Part Two-  Suprise

Part Three- Beautiful   Part Four- Screwed

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The Only Proof

The name on his arm read Jack, which irritated Eric quite a bit, because how many Jacks had he met in his life? Why couldn’t he have a soulmate with a less common name, like Francisco or Axel or Bernard? And it didn’t help that his own name was ridiculously common, too. Jack and Eric. Eric had to admit, though, that he did like the sound of that.


A Zimbits soulmate AU.

Cross-posted to AO3 

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Etiquette and grace, manners and morals. Many people say why bother in our modern culture, but we hold ourselves to standards not because it is necessary but because we are able to. If you have the knowledge, teach others and do not judge them. For it is education, manners and morals that makes us civilized not how much money we have or how many houses we own. Class does not come from having money but from holding yourself to grace, poise and manners. 

I know there is what seems like a battle going on with the different generations and how different all of the generations were raised. My generation and these new “millennials” are quickly judged as rude, mannerless, brought up wrong, etc. Today though, Will and I were walking toward the exit at Kohls after checking out and this lady (I’d say early to mid 50’s) kind of cut us off. She looked at us and Will said “excuse me, sorry” of course.. so we are right behind her and she swings open the door and walks out and of course Will is thinking she’s going to hold open the door so the stroller is half way out of the door and the lady just keeps walking.. Will quickly pulls the stroller back in and the door slams. Our child’s stroller almost got slammed in the door. She didn’t attempt to hold the door open, didn’t turn and look back, no “oops, sorry, didn’t know you were back there,” nothing. Today proved that we could all use a little lesson in manners sometimes. I always look to see if anyone is behind me so I can hold the door and I’m not one to judge based on generations or age or anything like that and I know this doesn’t stand for everybody because there are a lot of people that were and are being brought up right but it’s difficult seeing common courtesy slipping away from us all, old and young.

  • INTP: Southern manners are so funny to me. You listen to them, *in heavy Southern accent* "excuse me, but you weel not interrupt me when I am speaking, thenk you." It's almost a threat?
  • INFJ: Not like British manners?
  • INTP: Noooo. They're so genteel and upper class. Like Tim Gunn. Whenever he speaks, it makes me feel like a dirty farm hog.
  • INFJ: *laughs*
  • INTP: A common peasant with missing teeth!

anonymous asked:

I love that Mary was included in the headcanon! Do you have any more about her, or Joseph?

Oh anon, do I ever.

  • When Mary and Joseph met she was 17 and he was 28. 
  • She drifted into the tiny Georgia town where he was born and raised with twelve bucks in her pocket and no family to her name, then landed a job working graveyard at the terrible diner where he went every morning at four before heading off to his construction job.
  • He liked her stories about all the places she had seen from greyhound buses, and her quick brown eyes and the way she always gave money to the bum on the corner outside the diner. She liked his Southern manners, and simple, earnest piety, and the way he listened and they way he smiled.
  • They didn’t realize they were in love until much later
  • Joseph never cared that she was black; he thought she was all the lovelier for it. Some members of his family did though, and when she turned up pregnant a few months after she started to let him walk her home after her shift, that just added to the scandal.
  • They hadn’t even kissed, not once. Nobody believed them
  • When Mary stood up to a pack of slut-shamers in the diner one day and snarled about virgin births and angels coming as dreams, she was fired.
  • Joseph took her to his sister Elizabeth’s homestead on the outskirts of town, away from the whispers and epithets and dark looks. Elizabeth taught Mary how sow a garden and wean babies and get stains out of tablecloths and shoot a shotgun and make pies and jelllies, and gut a fish; everything a southern mother needed to know. Mary ran away from her own mother, an abusive drug addict, when she was fifteen, and coming across a good one so suddenly and so late in life surprised her.
  • Joseph stayed away for a little while, worried that maybe Mary hand’t been entirely truthful with him, but then an angel with a flattop haircut and gold earrings and a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air sweatshirt (it was 1994) showed up at his door and told him to “stop listening to the haters” and “get your ass back to your honey, she needs you” 
  • Joseph took her out for a scenic drive through the woods one day and the car broke down two miles from the city limit. She went into labor. Mary cracked jokes through the pain and insisted she wasn’t scared and didn’t need to be coddled. But still, she gripped Joseph’s hand and buried her face in his chest when the contractions started coming and thanked him for being there, quiet as a prayer.
  • That’s when he knew he loved her. He never left again.
  • Fast forward twenty years. They’re living in a Brooklyn townhouse with a backyard for Joseph’s woodworking business, out of debt with four kids. God has been good to them.
  • When the ministry starts, Mary is hesitant, worrying that it will topple everything they’ve built (it will) but soon she has opened the house to every stray Yeshua brings home. The apostles are all her children. All of them.
  • Yeshua looks a lot like Mary; he is a lot like Mary, passionate and stubborn and self-reliant, and so they are fiercely devoted to one another but bicker often. Not so with Joseph. Yeshua and Joseph have an absolute understanding, and they can carve and whittle together for hours (Yeshua is Joseph’s apprentice, of course) in total silence and perfect intimacy.
  • Yeshua calls Mary Mom but Joseph is always just Joseph. This strikes no one as odd or insubordinate or any less loving.
  •  Yeshua dosen’t have a drop of Joseph’s blood in him, but when he begins to grow into a man Mary can see her husband in her son’s  restless hands and shy, slow smile and beseeching eyes. She wonders if this resemblance is just another gift from on high, or if that’s what happens to all boys with good fathers



“ Has anyone else … Been by,” I mumbled. “To visit.”

Grams gave me a knowing smile. “A charming young woman with a mouth that could give a sailor a heart attack? A sweet little one who brought you flowers? The one who spent half a day chasing doctors and nurses around, demanding answers about your condition? Or, by any chance are you referring to a very well - mannered Southern boy?”

365 Movies in 2017 ||  121/365 My Cousin Vinny (1992)
Director: Jonathan Lynn
Starring: Joe Pesci, Marisa Tomei and Ralph Macchio
Plot: Two New Yorkers are accused of murder in rural Alabama while on their way back to college, and one of their cousins–an inexperienced, loudmouth lawyer not accustomed to Southern rules and manners–comes in to defend them.

On the Open Ocean

Popping my head out from holiday stress to post this very, very late Klaroline Gives Back drabble for @thetourguidebarbie who continues to be amazing in every way and should definitely move to Vancouver. Her request was:  My best friend knows I hate you and as a joke he entered us in an all-expense paid couples cruise and it turns out we actually won. Smut included, bed sharing cliches abound. Hope everyone’s having a great holiday!

If Caroline ever saw Enzo again, she was going to kill him.

She didn’t threaten lightly. Sure there was the occasional ‘You’re dead to me’ glare after he’d made a bad joke about her love life, but it was nothing compared to this. No, this time, if Enzo St. John had any sense of self-preservation, he was packing his things to move to the Arctic Circle, because if Caroline ever got her hands on him, he was a dead man.

He also wouldn’t be the only one.

“Are you going to pout all vacation, sweetheart?”

Caroline gritted her teeth and spun on her heel to face the smirking Brit standing a few feet away, admiring the view of the cabin’s balcony.

Their cabin’s balcony.

“Love, you should really cheer up.” Klaus didn’t even attempt to fake concern for her current mood, the jerk seemed to be thoroughly enjoying getting her as riled up as possible. And why wouldn’t he, the perfect way to ruffle her feathers had fallen into his lap and he barely had to lift a finger. Somewhere up there, someone had it in for her, Caroline was sure of it.

(That someone was probably Enzo.)

“I’m going to the customer service desk,” was all Caroline said, because if she got into it with Klaus now, she’d push him overboard. Not a bad idea really, but the chances of someone else noticing were way too high. She’d have to wait until it was nice and dark.

She entertained murder fantasies all the way through the line at the customer service desk, marching up to the poor employee doomed to bear the brunt of her irritation.

“And how can we help—”

“I need a new room,” Caroline snapped, trying to rein her anger in at the slightly shocked look on the poor man’s face. It wasn’t his fault she was in this situation, and her mother always did preach southern manners.

“Sorry,” she said, plastering on her best pageant queen smile. “But would it be at all possible for me to switch rooms?”

The person behind the desk probably got whiplash but managed to collect himself pretty quickly. “Was there something wrong with your cabin?”

“Oh nothing’s wrong, I was just wondering if I could get a single room?”

If she batted her eyelashes a little too hard and leaned forward a little too far, no one had to know. The concierge gulped and took the room card she handed over, checking her reservation details.

“It, uh, says you were the winner of our ‘Romantic Sunset Sailaway’ contest,” he said hesitantly.

Caroline swallowed a groan and fought to keep her smile perfect. “Look—” she glanced down at his nametag, “—Brian. I know that I won, but the thing is, I didn’t actually enter the contest.”

Brian just stared at her, mouth agape, and Caroline decided to go with the truth and hope for the best. “Look, my best friend is kind of a jerk because he knows that I hate Klaus — that’s the other guy I’m with — but decided to enter us in a ‘romantic cruise’ contest because he thought it would be funny, except it totally isn’t because I wouldn’t date Klaus if he was literally the last person on earth—”

“Little harsh love, don’t you think?”

Caroline managed to contain a scream and turned to find Klaus standing next to her, smirking at her obvious rage. “I hope she hasn’t been giving you too much trouble?” he asked Brian with faux sympathy.

“We’re fine,Caroline near growled. “I’m getting myself another room.”

“Um, there may be a problem,” Brian said timidly, shrinking when she turned her glare back on him. “All our rooms happen to be full.”

Oh, someone up there really hated her. “Can we…separate the bed?” she asked, slightly desperately. “That’s a thing you guys can do, right?”

“Normally yes, but the suite you have is specifically for the ‘Romantic Sunset Sailaway” package so…”

Deep breaths, Caroline told herself, deep breaths. Klaus was barely suppressing his laughter next to her and with the last of her dignity left, Caroline swiped her room card back from Brian marched in the opposite direction, intent to put the entire ship’s length between her and Klaus. It would have been easier if the asshole in question wasn’t following right behind.

“I think you might have scarred the poor boy for life. Aren’t there websites where stories like these are posted?”

Caroline kept herself from making a scene in the middle of the ship’s main deck, resolving to at least try and enjoy her vacation. Especially if that meant avoiding Klaus at all costs.

“Look, this ship has 18 decks, and like, 14 different bars. I’m pretty sure I don’t have to see you at all this vacation.”

“I’m hurt sweetheart,” Klaus said, hand over heart in some pitiful attempt at sincerity. “That you would think so little of me—”

“I do.”

“—when I’ve done absolutely nothing to earn your ire—”

“You’re a dick.”

“—and just when we’ve been given the chance to know each other better—”

“I’m going to push you overboard.”

“—you resist any attempt at being civil.”

“Because you’re literally the worst.”

Klaus cocked his head to the side, studying her carefully for a moment. She was used to his leering (disgusting) but this was different and Caroline was on her guard, ready for whatever he was throwing her way.

“I bet I can change your mind,” he drawled, stepping forward. Caroline didn’t budge an inch, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“Keep dreaming Mikaelson.”

“What’s wrong love? Scared that you’ll succumb to my charms?” He dipped his head forward ever so slightly, reaching a hand up to toy with one of her curls.

Caroline slapped his hand away in irritation, hating herself just a little for the flush of heat she felt at having him so close. Klaus was undeniably hot, she could admit that, if only to herself. But, she’d decided a long time ago that he was not worth her time and he’d in turn decided to be a thorn in her side ever since.

“No chance of me ‘succumbing’ to anything,” Caroline said determinedly.

Klaus smirked, red lips catching her eye. “Are you absolutely sure? You might enjoy yourself.”

By the last few words, he’d leant down close enough to whisper in her ear and Caroline was a little startled that it took effort for her to keep from stepping closer. God, this was going to be a disaster. Scoffing for effect, she stepped backwards and tossed her hair, pretending not to notice the brief flash of genuine disappointment on Klaus’s face.

“I’m going to the Solarium. Try not to stalk me.”

Turning away, she kept her head high and walked on. She could do this. She could avoid him.

Until of course, she had to go back to the room.

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L4yers of a Lifetime ago

L4yers of a Lifetime ago (5YearsAgo Before the Turn)

A Richonne Fanfic/ L4yers of War Series

Part One.

She watched him as he dismissed the third woman to approach him. She smirked as she watched the unimpressive blonde woman, roll her eyes and huff away in disappointment.

Three women, he was handsome but for three women to throw themselves at him, she thought it comical. He is not that attractive. She thought.

She sipped on her martini, relaxed in her seat and took in the dimly lit bar. L4yers, she smirked at the name of the bar, spelled with the number 4 instead of an A.

How unimpressively ironic. She thought.

Her co-workers talked about L4yers all the time but Michonne never joined them when they went out to happy hour at the local bar. Michonne looked around the room, still trying to figure out what was the big deal about the bar. She passed the place a thousand time before but never entered until tonight. Michonne shouldn’t be there, she should be at Mike’s apartment; her close friend of six years only lived three blocks away. Something pulled her inside the bar, maybe it was the fact she wanted to prolong the conversation she needed to have with him; maybe it was something else.

“You’re too beautiful not to be smiling,” a voice said next to her. She glanced at the new comer who sidled up next to her. He was burly looking man wearing a winkle ill-fitting suit, beady eyes and reeked of alcohol.

“Fuck off.”

“Come on pretty lady, let me buy you a drink.”

Michonne turned to face him, giving him a fiery cold once over before returning her dark gaze to his eyes.

“Fuck,” She started pausing for effect, “Off.”

The man grumbled and moved away not before calling her a “bitch” under his breath. Michonne smirked at the man. She took another sip of her martini and returned her eyes to the man at the bar.

Less than ten minutes passed before two women slinked up next to him. They smiled and leaned in, flirting with him. He leaned away from them, clearly not interested. Michonne watched as they touched his arm, leaned in and talked to him. He flinched away from their touched, he tried to dismiss them but the women weren’t getting the hint. At one point he turned his back on the women but they continued to flirt with him. She shook her head at the women’s desperation.

Michonne finished her martini and stood to her feet. She needed to go see Mike, her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of seeing him. She left a twenty on the table and started towards the exit when she heard a horse neigh of a chuckle. Glancing over her shoulder, one woman threw her head back laughing as the other one fell towards the man, touching his arm. The man grimace at the women, looking as if he were in pain. His eyes flickered up and locked with hers, a pleading look asking for help.

His eyes. It was his eyes that drew the women in, those cerulean blue spheres. He looked away from her and down at the woman who was practically laying on his chest.

Impulsively Michonne spun on her heels and swayed in their direction, she tapped the woman who practically crawled onto his lap. When she looked over her shoulder, Michonne flickered her wrist in a shoo-away movement. The woman stood and glared at her, Michonne pushed her way towards the man and smiled.

He smiled in return. Maybe he was that attractive, the thought ran across her mind. It was his eyes and the way they lit when he smiled.

Michonne leaned in, smiled and pressed her lips against his.


All Rick wanted to do was drink in peace before returning to his hotel for the night. It has been a practically rough day for him. Jeff Fredrick’s death and still laid heavily upon his chest, Jeff was one of his fellow deputy and one of his closest friends beside Shane.

His friend’s death wasn’t the only thing laying heavily upon him, his marriage was falling apart. It has been for quite some time, for him it was to the point there were no salvaging it but Lori thought differently. She stilled believed their marriage could be saved. They’ve been separated for a couple of months and were a breath away from a divorce.

All Rick wanted was to be left alone, wallow in his sorrows and drink. That wasn’t the case, almost as soon as he sat down he was battered by unsolicited advances from various women.

He dismissed the previous three as politely as his southern manners allowed but when the two slightly drunk women approached him, he was near the end of his southern manner rope.

He made a snide comment, meant to offend the women but they roared in laughter. One practically laid across his chest as she laughed. He rolled his eyes and look up, locking eyes with dark brown orbs.

He looked away from her when the woman with the hyena laugh hit his knee and leaned into him. He backed away deciding to close his tab and return to his room.

Suddenly the woman with the dark eyes was before them, she pulled the woman who laid upon him away and pushed her way towards him. She smiled and he became enraptured within her warmth. He felt his lips pull into a smile; she leaned in, smiling wider as she pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was soft, sweet, and slow. She pressed deeper into him and he parted his lips, his tongue seeking hers. Her hand snaked around his neck, curling into his hair as he deepened the kiss.

He became lost in the solace of the kiss, lost against the feel of lips against his, nothing else mattered in the moment. Her lips seemed to wash away all the pain of the day and cleared his trouble mind. Her lips seemed to be the solace he was seeking without the realization he was looking for it in the first place. An electric fire spark and lit encompassing them within a flame of desire, need, and want.

Rick reluctantly pulled away from the woman and stared into her stunning dark eyes. He could see the matching desire play across her eyes. He could see the electric fire burn within the dark molten orbs. He could see their possibilities.  

Rick smiled.

She returned his smile with one of her own before breaking the intense eyes contact to look around to see the two women were gone.

“Thank you,”

“You’re welcome.”

She started to leave when Rick caught her wrist, “Allow me to buy you a drink as a proper thank you.”

“I think that kiss was thank you enough.”

He couldn’t help his eyes as they quickly traveled the length of her body.

“Not nearly enough, please allow me to properly thank you.”

She smirked at his choice of words, Rick felt his cheek redden but he didn’t correct himself because he wanted that as well to fully thank her, all of her. She took a moment and considered declining his offer but she nodded and slipped into the bar-stool next to his. When the bartender arrive, she asked for a dry martini.

“Do you do this often?” He asked.


“Kiss random men,” he teased.

“It was that or battle it out in all out cat fight.”

“I wouldn’t have mind seeing you in a cat fight,” Rick said as he does another full body scan of the mysterious woman, this time slower taking her all in. She dressed in a form fitting cream dress with gold zipper details that ran the length of her dress contouring to her curves. Her skin is dark, flawless and enticing, her dark eyes captivating and her lips full sensual, sweet, and soft. Her hair was swept up in a side bun showing off her slender neck. Rick felt the urge to rain kisses upon the exposed flesh. She was a beauty he had never seen before, exotic and enticing. Immediately Rick was intrigued by the dark skin woman wanting and needing to know all of her.

“Really?” She asked with one perfectly eyebrow arched as she slowly looked over him.

“Yea… but I preferred the kiss.”

The bartender place her martini in front of her, she picked up and take a sip before saying, “Me too.”

As easy as breathing they fell into conversation as if old friends. The melody of conversation, the verbal and the nonverbal, flowed effortlessly between them for several hours as they enjoy each other’s company, their drinks long forgotten. As the midnight hour approach, the bartender comment about closing soon.

“I still don’t know your name,” Rick said.

She smile and only comment, “I should go.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I should.”

“But you don’t need to.”

“We both have to. The bar is closing soon.”

“We could go someplace else…”

Her eyebrow rise in question.

“To continue to talk,” Rick added quickly.

She replied with a coy smile, “Is that all you want to do? Is talk?”

Rick leaned closer to her feeling bold, the truth falling from his lips with ease; “I want to kiss you again… and again… then all over.”

Her eyes fluttered away at his candor and the intensity of his stare before slowly returning to his.

“You’re married.” She said pointing to his ring.


“Still married…you still wear her mark.”

Rick looked down at his ring. They’ve been separated for two months, the divorce papers were ready to give it to her but he remember her threat to seek full custody of Carl and moved back to Maryland if Rick went through with the divorce. He wouldn’t allow that to happen but her threat gave him paused, therefore she stilled marked him.

They sat in silence for several minutes before she spoke again.

“I should leave, he was expecting me hours ago.”


“You have your Her,” Michonne said pointing at his ring again, “And I have my, Him.”

“Do you love your Him?”

“I could love him.”

“But you don’t?”

“He’s a friend… a good friend… and it’s about time to get him out of the zone and give him a chance… I’m getting to that age.”

Rick chuckled before he said with all seriousness hearing the dread in her voice, “Sounds like you’re settling.”

“I have to when you have a Her,” Michonne said playfully.

“We’re separated.”

“Still married.”

“And if I wasn’t?”

“Then maybe…maybe… I’ll give you my mark to bear,” She said leaning in, eyes flashing with mischief.

“You could wait,” Rick offered, drawing closer to her. His eyes flickered down to her lips, she licked them slowly and waited as his eyes found hers again.


“You’ve waited this long already.”

She smiled wide. He was bold. He closed the remaining inches that kept them apart and kissed her. This kiss different from the last, a hunger propelled the kiss into depths that had her pulling him closer. He navigated the kiss with ease as he mapped the inside of her mouth with his tongue.

They pulled apart in silent gasp, staring into the depth of each other eyes, each coming to a decision. Rick looked away long enough to settle his tab before rising to his feet.

He held out his hand and she took it. He pulled her to her feet and started out the bar. Rick led her outside, where they stood staring into each other’s eyes before he leaned down and took her lips with his. He held her firmly against his body, feeling her tremble slightly in his arm. She moaned and it vibrated in his mouth; their tongue engaged in a lustful dance of need and want.

Still held in the folds of his arms, she pulled away and molten dark eyes stared into his.

“Her?” She asked.

“What about her?” Rick replied.

“If not her… then my Him. He’s probably worried.”

“Let him worry.”

With that Rick took her lips again, she fell willingly into the heat of the kiss.

The taxi ride from the bar L4yers to his hotel was short, neither spoke as both were lost in their own thoughts. Rick held her close as he navigated the lobby of the hotel and rode the elevator to his room, not wanting to let her go in fear she may change her mind. Rick finally release her when he reached to pull his hotel key out from his wallet. He pushed the door open and stepped inside before turning to face her. Her eyes are set behind him, looking into the dark room trying to come to her own decision.

“Her,” She said.

“You,” Rick replied.



She smiled, her eyes shifting to look into his, “You have a reply for everything.”

Rick smiled, he reached out his hand to her. She glance at the darkness behind him then to his hand and finally resting upon his eyes. Eyes so full of light and possibilities, she slowly take the outstretched hand and he pulled her into the room whispering, “Us.”

His lips covered hers as he closed the door behind her.


Rick laid in bed and watched as she slowly sauntered toward him completely bare of any clothing and only wearing a smile. A smile that could rival the sun. Smooth, flawless dark brown skin covers every inch of her perfect body. Perky full breast sits high, her areolas a darker shade of her mouthwatering skin with harden nipples begging to be sucked upon. She’s tone and slim but curvy with a narrow waist, flat stomach, and a wicked curve to her hips with a full squeezable ass.

She’s by far the sexiest woman, Rick has ever laid eyes on. Rick delighted in her confidence in her nudity. Many women wouldn’t be so bold to bare themselves in this manner. Rick wanted her again…and again, for the rest of the night, for the rest of forever. His manhood start to harden again as she approached him, moving slow like liquid fire.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to devour me.”

“But I did… and I do again,” Rick said licking his lips.

She smiled as she sat on the bed next to him. Rick sat up in bed, the sheet pooling at his waist. Touching her hair, she moved away slightly.


“Don’t you know the rule? You’re not supposed to touch a black woman’s hair.”

Rick laughed and he reached for her hair again, this time she allowed his touch.

“I like your hair, what is this style called?”

“Dreadlocks, I did the big chop last year and started it. I’m still getting used to it,” She said.

“Dreadlocks… I like it,” Rick said as he caressed her hair, “Its beautiful… just like you.”

She shied away from the compliment and mutter a thank you. Rick’s hand dropped to her neck, then to her firm breast. He liked the way his hand look against her skin; the contrast of the skin, his pale flesh against her dark enticing hue. He squeezed her breast and rolled her nipple in his hand, she closed her eyes against the sensation.

She lifted Rick’s hand and brought it up to her lips and kissed it. The cool metal of his ring press against her lips. She pulled his hand away and examines his palm and the ring.

“Are you in loved with her?” She asked.

“No,” Rick said giving her a searing look, she shudder and look away for a moment before turning to him again.

““Do you love her?” She asked.

“She’s the mother of my child… I love her for that. She was my first love so she’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

“So you love her.”

“In a sense…but I’m not in love with her… not for a while.”


“Her,” Rick repeated.

“I don’t do this…”


“Sleep with married men.”


“Still married,” she replied with a smile.

“You think this is wrong?” He asked seriously.

“Don’t you?” She asked in turn.

“No… Otherwise why does it feel so right? Like it’s meant to me. Like we’re meant to be. You. Me. Us. In this very moment.”

“And what if we are only meant to have this moment?”

“I can’t believe that. I don’t… we’re meant to be here in this moment but I believe we’re are meant to have more,” Rick answered wholeheartedly believing ever word.

“How can you possibly believe that?” She asked in wonder of his confidence.

“How can you not?”

She doesn’t answer. They’re silent for a minute as she continued to examine his hand before she spoke again.

”Falling in love with someone is slowly forgetting what you dislike about them.”

“And falling out of love?” He asked.

“Is remembering everything that you disliked about them.”

“And if I said I was falling in love with you?”

She release his hand and it immediately goes to cup her face. Her hand dropped to his bare chest, a smile teased at her full lips. “You don’t know me enough to remember or forget anything you dislike about me.”

“I like everything about you,” Rick said eyes boring into hers.

She smiled wider, her hand moved from his chest lower to his lap. She found his manhood already rising. She stroked him to full length, Rick moaned at her sensual soft yet firm touch. She reached out with the other hand and grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer with one hand still stroking him while using her free hand and her teeth to open the condom.

Rick watched as she put the condom in her mouth and bend over his harden length. Using her lips and tongue she rolls the condom onto him, pulling him into her warm mouth.

“Especially that…. I like that!” Rick moaned.

She chuckled as she swung her leg over his. She assure the condom was firmly in place before she guide him into her needy slick center.

Rick groaned as he slide into her, she felt snuggly and like perfection around him. She throw her head back and moaned loudly.

“I like everything about you too,” She said slowly rotating her hips upon him.


It was mid-morning when Michonne emerged from the bathroom, a smile plastered to her face. She was dressed in the clothes from the night before but she didn’t care, after the night she just had she was more than happy to do the walk of shame alongside the man she spent the night with.

She tossed the towel on the floor as she entered the hotel room. He stood by the window, dressed in a brown tee-shirt, dark jeans and dark brown boots.

Michonne knew something was wrong by the tense set of his shoulder and the deep grimace on his face. She moved closer and heard him talking and she knew it was the end of all their possibilities. It was the end of their moment. She felt her heart constrict with the pain of the coming loss of his soon departure would leave.

This shouldn’t hurt. Why does this hurt? The thought came.

“Yea… I’m on my way. Y’all taking her to Macon General? Okay, I’ll be there in an hour. I’m leaving now.”

Michonne set her face in an impassive frown as he ended his call. He slipped his phone into his pocket and turned to face her.

His blue eyes were weighed with sadness, Michonne wanted to hold him. Instead she steeled her nerves and clamped down any emotions.

“I’m sorry…” He started.

“You have to go,” She finished.


“Her?” Michonne asked, even though she knew.

“Yea… Her,” he answered.

“It’s okay.”

“My son… he found her passed out in a pool of blood. I have to-”

“It’s okay,” Michonne said again cutting him off and forcing a smile.

He approached her, a hand cupping her cheek and pulling her close.

It was only one night. The pain of his loss should fade quickly. She hoped.

She allowed the moment before pulling away, needing the pain to start to fade.


Rick checked out the hotel and rushed outside, he handed the valet his ticket and waited impatiently for his vehicle. Scanning the busy street, his eyes caught a glimpse of her. She stood on the curd, back straight with head high as she waited for a cab. She looked regal and stunning.

Once thing settled with Lori maybe he could reconnect and make this work with her. Embarrassed, he suddenly remember he never got her name, he approached her slowly. Sensing him, she turned in his direction.

“Once again, I’m sorry about this… I-”

She smiled and his heart picked up pace, “It’s okay. You have your Her and I have my Him. It’s okay.”

She said as if trying to convince herself along with him.

“Wait for me?”

She shook her head, “Her. Him. This is best.”

“And what about are moment?”

“It passed.”

Rick nodded his head and looked down to the ground before looking up at her, he stepped closer eyes scanning every feature of her face committing it to memory.

He tilted his head as a small smile played at the corner of his lips, “After last night and this morning… I’m embarrassed to say I never got your name… maybe we can exchange names and numbers.”

A full smile crossed her lips, she closed the distance between them as Rick leaned down and instantly took her lips. The kiss was soft, sweet and slow, a remembrance of their first kiss. She pressed deeper into him and he deepened the kiss as their tongues briefly met. She pulled away all too quickly, stroke his cheek and smiled.

“I’ll tell you my name when we get another moment,” She said with a coy smile as she walked towards her awaiting cab.

“And if we don’t?” Rick asked as she slipped into her cab.

“Hopefully, we will.”

Rick watched as she closed the door, the cab gently pulled into the increasing traffic of the growing day. He hoped she was right, that hopefully they’ll met again and things would be different.

Whole (A Joshifer One-Shot)

A/N: Yes, I have finally returned to my Joshifer roots. As you can tell from the timestamps, these two prompts have been sitting in my inbox for quite some time:

The top prompt is from this post, and I choose to focus on the first prompt on that list, “things you said at 1 am”. And of course I used the song for inspiration, although what resulted is certainly not the one shot of the year. It’s a rough, unbetaed ride, really, but I still wanted to throw it out there because why not. 

So, grab some popcorn, settle in, and enjoy. And remember that no matter how rough things get on this fine ship of ours, I will always be around. (Oh, and for clarification reasons, this takes place on the same night the cast was seen having dinner in New York a few months back). 

Rated M because there’s smut ahead, kids (apologies in advance for my general ignorance over how sex works) 


I never slept well in New York.

It didn’t matter how many times I came here, I always ended up rattled awake in the middle of the night by the rumble of a subway train far below my floor, or the blare of late-night taxis outside the window. Maybe the broken up nights were a trade-off for how intoxicating this city was in the daylight. Still, I could do without waking up every morning and going to a meeting or a press conference looking and feeling hungover despite spending my nights inside drinking nothing stronger than water.

Tonight, though, the mechanical bleating of traffic was trumped by the sharp chirping of my phone.

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