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neganandblake · 5 years

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I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 197 - The Weak Link

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she’s certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit….

Chapter 196- The Weak Link

[Simon confronts Negan about the major change in leadership he wants for the Sanctuary...]

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Blake paled a little at the tone of Simon's voice.

For there was the mustachioed man, standing in amongst a small group of men, looking as cool and as collected as ever.

But there was something about his demeanour that was different today. Something that reminded her a little of David.

Simon stood there, arms folded, a smile on his face as he peered up at her and Negan.

Beside her, Blake heard the leader of the Saviours let out a harsh growl beneath his breath. But Negan was clever. And so kept a calm resolve as he pushed back from the railing a little, a wide and deadly grin flicking up onto his lips.

"So," hissed Negan easily, although his voice still echoed through the large expansive dining hall. "This some kind of welcome home party?"

He looked to Blake for a second.

"'Cause as flattered as I am, I would've thought some of my best men would have had better things to be fuckin' doin' at past-midnight on a Friday evenin'."

His tone was playful, but Blake knew that behind it, there was something else bubbling. Something furious and irritated.

There was silence for a short moment or two where nobody spoke.

But it was predictably Simon who finally did, raising his chin, and moving his hands to both his hips, keeping his shark-like eyes fixed on Negan all the while.

"You know, Boss," said Simon in an oily voice.. "We were actually all just waiting up to speak to you…."

Almost at once Blake felt Negan bristle beside her, his jaw tensing and his eyes becoming dark.

"Y'see there's been somethin' buggin' us for a while-" continued Negan's right hand man, pacing his way methodically across the concrete floor below.

But Negan didn't let him finish.

"When you say us, does that mean all of you, or jus' you, Si?" growled the dark-haired man, blackened eyes narrowed.

But Simon gave an easy laugh, pointing up at Negan. "I see what you're doing," he said nodding, before coming to stand still again, in the centre of the circle of men. "But we're all in agreement here, I can assure you."

At this Negan licked at his lips, blinking hard.

"About what?" he merely uttered in a dark voice, taking a step forward, his fingers tensing around the yellow railing in front of him, looking like he was trying to stave off his pure fury at being spoken to like this.

Blake didn't want to speak, feeling the thick and ugly tension that filled the room, as she held on, standing just a little behind Negan, watching Simon as he opened his mouth to speak again.

"Rick," said Simon coolly, the smile sliding from his lips as he spoke the name. "And how, yet again, we let him, his son, and those….people-"

For the briefest of seconds, Blake noticed Simon's eyes flick to her.

"-walk out of here alive and well."

Simon looked back to his men grimacing.

"Do you realise how weak that makes us all look?" he finished finally, with a shake of his head.

So that was what all this was about.

Negan letting Rick go?

Blake gave a gulp realising suddenly that all of this, it was because of her.

If she hadn't been here, none of this would be an issue. A cold sense of dread washing over her at the thought that this is what Simon and these men had been ruminating on.

But as ever, Negan remained calm and collected, lowering his eyes to the ground, pushing himself from the railing before him and giving a slow nod.

"Well, shit," said the dark-haired man making for the staircase beside them. "I am sorry that you all fuckin' think that…"

He paused, silence filling the room as Negan slowly paced down the metal staircase down towards Simon, taking the steps one-by-one on his long legs.

"So...what? You all decided you have a problem with the way I do things around here? With the way I rule?"

Everyone remained quiet at his words, a harsh silence falling across the room.

Blake could feel how tense the atmosphere was.

Everyone, including her, waiting with bated breath for Negan to yell, to lash out, to get angry.

But none of that came.

For here, right now, there was only Negan, as smirking and arrogant as ever, pacing across the concrete floor, into the circle of men, coming to stop six or so foot away from where Simon was stood.

But the mustachioed man kept his resolve, keeping his hands on his hips, fingers drumming away against the pockets of his jeans.

"We're all thinking the same thing, Negan," said Simon finally, lifting his chin defiantly. "That you've gotten soft. That you've forgotten how we do things around here. How we've always done things."

Blake moved a little closer to the railing, peering down at the men below, placing both her hands to the yellow bar, her fingers tensing around it.

"Have I?" replied Negan in a low and hard drawl, his eyes flashing dangerously in the shadowed room, betraying his easy smirk.

But Simon pressed on, looking around confidently at his men as he spoke.

"We've all seen it...things changing...and not for the better," said Simon in an icy voice.

But Negan narrowed his dark eyes, cutting across his right hand man.

"And, what? You think you could do a better job, huh?"

Silence fell across the space once more as Simon gave another cold laugh.

"Well...now you mention it…" he uttered clearly. "Maybe it's time things changed around here."

Blake's knuckles were now white as she clenched the railing, watching the scene before her unfold, her blood running, all of a sudden, cold in her veins.

She knew now that Negan shouldn't be down there. Surrounded. Goaded into being in this situation.

His 'loyal men' could so easily be the ones to end him here and now.

But Negan didn't seem perturbed by any of it, merely giving a chuckle of his own, eyes on the floor now as he paced around the inside of the circle of men, Lucille swinging easily from his hand as he walked.

Even now he certainly was an imposing figure.

Tall, broad shouldered, with that glint in his eyes that gave nothing away about what he was thinking.

"You really think it's that easy?" Negan chuckled, leaning back on his long legs and gesturing in the air with his free hand. "You strap on a pair of big boy balls an' think you can take care of this place? Take care of these people?"

Negan looked up now, stopping still, his eyes meeting with Simon's.

"'Cause I know a goddamn pussy when I see one, Si," he continued. "An', shit. You are one big motherfuckin' pussy."

Blake saw Simon blink a couple of times at the vulgarness of Negan's words.

But Negan didn't seem to be done, resuming in his pacing, circling around Simon like a prowling tiger, eyes never leaving him, not once.

"You really fuckin' think these men are on your side," he uttered, with a smirk. "You think when it comes down it, they'd be loyal to you?"

Simon visibly swallowed before answering.

"I do," he replied in a voice far quieter than the one he had used just a moment ago.

He sounded a little unsure of himself now, but carried on anyway in a tone full of spite.

"I'm definitely not the only one who think that this place has gone to shit since you shacked up with the Alexandrian" he uttered as Blake felt a hard lump appear in her throat. "An' judging by the way you let her strut around, letting Rick and his people into our gates and then back out again. I really dont think I'm the one that's the pussy here, Boss."

Blake's hands dropped from the railing in front of her taking a small step back.

Is that all she was to them?

Still an outsider? Still an Alexandrian?

All she had done was try and support these people, love them as a family. And yet people like Simon somehow still didn't see that.

To them she was a traitor.

But although Blake stood there silently, letting Simon's hurtful words settle into her head. Negan didn't.

His face, for the first time, twisting into a furious grimace.

"You know what, Simon," Negan hissed out, between bared teeth. "I am more than happy to stand here listening to you talkin'' shit about the way I do things...about the way I rule."

With that he took a sudden step forwards, eyes as black as the sky outside.

"But no one, an' I mean no one, fuckin' talks about her like she ain't one of us," he uttered in a deadly tone.

And in that moment, everyone in the room knew who he was talking about, several eyes flicking up towards Blake as she stood there, eyes wide and nervous.

"Cause you can all say what you like about me goin' soft, about me letting that shit with Grimes slide, but her…"

Negan glanced up at Blake for the briefest of seconds now.

"...you don't talk about her like she hasn't made this place ten times the place it once was. I mean, shit! Without her you'd still be rationin' off a can of beans for the week, rather than goin' to sleep with bellies full of fresh fuckin' food. An' you think I'd be lettin' half of you get away with the shit I know you're all gettin' away with?"

Negan turned to some of the men behind him.

"NOPE! An' that shit...well that shit is all down to her bein' here."

Negan gave a sniff, before turning back to Simon.

"An' you know what. If you dont like that, then lets see you step on up here an' tell me face to fuckin' face."

And with that, and with a hard grunt, Negan, with one swing, bashed the barbed end of Lucille against the concrete floor below him, causing everyone in the room to jump in fright at the sound as it reverberated along the walls surrounding them all.

Nobody moved, and Blake felt herself hold her breath in fear of what was about to happen, knowing full well what the outcome of ten or so men against Negan, even with Lucille in his hand, would be.

But to her surprise it was only an uneasy looking Simon who took a step towards the dark haired Saviour, scowling at the men around him as he did so.

The men who had so obviously ten minutes ago, been on his side.

But nevertheless Simon still looked as defiant as ever, lifting his chin arrogantly.

But, with her eyes shifting anxiously to Negan, Blake noticed that leader of the Saviours was now smiling that ominous wolf-like grin of his.

"Well, fuck, Si," Negan eased out, breaking the quiet finally. "Seems like you're on your own for this one."

Simon stood there still unmoving as he kept his eyes fixed to Negan.

"Me and Dwight-"

But the mustachioed man was suddenly cut across by another crack from Lucille bashing against the floor.

"NO, SIMON! YOU WANTED THIS. THIS SHIT HAS TO BE ON YOU!" shouted Negan loudly, causing Blake to finch back at the furious sound of his voice.

Blake could see Negan's shoulders tensed. Visibly seething, and not for the first time tonight.

Dwight seemed to be nowhere to be seen, and Blake wondered if this was all one big set up.

Negan spoke again, his voice very slightly quieter this time, but still with just as much impact as his last sentence.

"Shit, you know as fickle as these damn sons-of-bitches are," he said gesturing to the men around him with a wave of his gloved hand over his broad shoulder. "They have been fuckin' loyal when it counts. And most of all...they know who they are…"

Negan took a sudden looming step forwards, coming to stop just a foot away from Simon now.

"You know who you are, Si?"

There was silence now. With Simon not even opening his mouth to speak.

Negan raised a single dark eyebrow at this.

"No?" Negan uttered with contempt in his voice. "Well let's test this out shall we?"

Negan took a step backwards now, addressing the crowd of men around him.

"WHO ARE YOU?" he suddenly bellowed, only to get an immediate reply from the crowd in unison.

"NEGAN."

The sound of the reply seemed to fill the entire space, and Blake swallowed hard looking to Simon now, almost feeling pity for the man who had tried to stab Negan in the back…

….as he stood there looking very alone in the world right now.

Negan turned back to his right hand man.

"You might want to reconsider your earlier stance, Si," he murmured. "'Cause I know it feels like shit to take a fuckin' bow an' admit when you're wrong. But I've gonna say...its gonna be much fuckin' easier in the longrun if you do."

And with that, Negan, with a low growl stepped into Simon, coming to stand nose-to-nose with the tall man.

"Who are you?" the dark haired Saviour asked in a voice as deadly as an approaching predator.

And Simon, with his eyes fixed to Negan's answered.

"Simon."

Blake instantly closed her eyes with regret at the words... knowing full well what was about to happen now…

THWACK.

Blake's green eyes snapped open at the sound, to see Simon staggering backwards clutching his middle.

By the looks of it he had been hit with full force in the stomach with Lucille, and Blake found herself blinking rapidly, as a sudden flashback of David being dealt the same fate by her own hand, swam clear in her vision.

Simon let out a groan, doubling over, shifting hurriedly away from the dark haired Saviour.

But unfortunately for him, Negan was unrelenting, advancing on the mustachioed man.

"Who are you?" repeated Negan again, giving Simon a second to speak.

But when there came no answer, Negan grasped the back of his neck roughly with his Lucille-bearing hand, punching Simon square in the face with the other.

From the circle of men surrounding them, no one moved. The irony of those who had stood, so loyal with Simon, and yet here they were watching his fate unfold before their eyes.

Simon was knocked off balance, falling backwards, ass-first to the floor, nose now bloody, splatters of red covering his entire face.

He didn't fight back, merely spawled there, almost waiting for the next blow to come with the last shred of dignity he had in tact.

"Who are you?" repeated Negan again.

But still there came no answer from Simon's lips, as Negan, visibly seething, marched up to him once more, crouching over him and throwing another hard punch across his face.

Blake watched the scene unfold, unable to take her eyes away from the grotesque spectacle.

Simon, lying on his back and breathing hard, coughed with great difficulty, blood pouring from his mouth and nose as he did so. His eyes were already dark and puffy and his skin blossoming with bruises.

Resigning himself to hisfate now, knowing that he had been stabbed in the back by men who had turned on him like they had promised they would turn on Negan.

It was almost poetic.

But even so, Blake lifted a hand to her mouth, watching as Negan tossed down Lucille and punched at Simon's face...again and again…

...just as he had done with Rick…

And both, in Blake's eyes at least, were justified.

This was the reason he was a leader.

This was the reason he had climbed to the top, never looking back, using his ruthlessness and anger to his advantage...using it when he needed it the most...using it on those with no respect, no morals, no understanding of just what Negan had sacrificed to be here.

Even from her position up here on the balcony, the blonde woman could hear Simon desperately gasping for air as Negan pulled back furiously, after laying on blow after blow to his right hand man's face until he looked almost unrecognisable.

Negan was crouched there now, teeth bared, looking like an animal ready to tear the throat out of his prey.

And, lifting Simon up by his shirt collar, leant his face close to the man's bloody one and uttered three single words...

"Who are you?"

Everything was quiet now, time almost standing still, as Blake held her breath.

She wasn't sure now if she wanted Simon dead for what he had done. For trying to betray them both.

Would he have been as forgiving to Negan if this had been the other way around?

But both Blake and Negan had already been responsible for another man's death today.

And despite what she knew should be done, her heart seemed to be betraying her, pounding in her chest at a hundred miles an hour, her palms sweaty, her face white...knowing what Negan was about to do…

"...Negan…" came a sudden rasping voice.

Simon's.

Blake looked to the man, lying bloodied and beaten as he spoke again.

"Negan," he repeated in a hoarse voice,that was just about audible. "I-I'm Negan."

And with that, Negan let go of Simon's shirt collar, allowing is head to drop back down against the concrete floor behind him with a dull thud.

With a hard sniff, Negan got to his feet, picking up Lucille as he did so, as Simon continued to groan on the floor behind him, spluttering up more blood onto his chin. Defeated.

"You see that? Loyalty? That shit needs to be earned," Negan bellowed in a sudden loud voice. "By any fuckin' means nesccasary."

He bashed his baseball bat against the ground again, hard, causing the crack to echo throughout the room.

"This is why we do what we do. This is why we are the Saviours," he continued scowling and turning on the spot to look at all the men surrounding him. "Because we earn that shit. That loyalty."

He paused for a moment, his face twisting into a dark malevolent grimace.

"And you'all better be fuckin' thankful Peaches up here exists," he said in a sudden low and denagrous voice, spinning arond on his heel and ponting at the men around him with the end of his bat. "Because if she didn't, if she hadn't've come here an' made. me . soft, well...for that shit you all just pulled, you'd all be strung up on that fence out there."

Negan bared his teeth angrily.

"Every last one of you."

His words hung in the air for a long moment, filling the room with a harsh tension that was only broken when Negan finally spoke again.

"Now get this piece of shit outta my damn sight," he said pointing at the groaning Simon one last time before turning on his heel and moving back over to the staircase. "An' trust me when I say. That if any of you boys try this shit again, you'll be dead before you know what's happenin'. Now fuck off. All of you."

The men all around instantly did as they were told, lifting Simon up from under his arms and taking him from the room, as the rest of them dispersed by the time Blake had moved to the top of the stairs leading down to where Negan now stood.

She waited until the last men was gone, leaving them all alone, watching as they went before she turned back to Negan.

"You alright, Darlin'?" he asked in a voice far different from the one he had just used on his men, full of pure concern for her now.

And Blake didn't answer until she had reached the bottom step, coming to stand in front of the dark-haired Saviour, staring up into his eyes and tilting her head to the side.

"Are you alright?" she said lifting a hand to his cheek.

What had happened here tonight...it was all down to her being here. Her being a part of Negan's life.

Negan nodded, lifting his free hand and placing it on top of hers.

"Me? I'm fine, Darlin'. Ain't the first time these sorry shits have tried to overthrow this place, an' I guarantee you it won' be the last," he said, pressing his lips into straight line before letting out a huff of air.

"I'm sorry," said Blake after a moment, giving a sad shake of her head. "I feel like all this...its all my fault. Simon was right. I was the one who let Carl and Tara in here. I'm the one who's been trying to change this place. Change you."

But Negan frowned at her words, giving a shake of his own dark head now. "You don' need to listen to anythin' that asshole-"

"I'm the weak link, Negan," Blake said, cutting across him.

But at her words, Negan took a step back, causing Blake's hand to drop from his cheek as he stared at her, frowning.

"Blake, listen to me, Darlin', " he said using her name properly now. "You are anythin' but a damn weak link. I mean, shit. If it wasn' for you, this place would still be runnin' on empty. An' I meant what I said back there, you have made this damn shitty place ten times what it was."

Blake looked at him, worrying at her bottom lip a little but nodded, understanding that perhaps he was right.

She had learned from her mistakes. Learned that Tara and Rick and Carl and the others, they weren't heroes. Far from it. And the Saviours, well they weren't so different either. Everyone has flaws. Everyone does things they regret. And Blake knew now that if she wanted to survive in this world, she needed to fight to protect what she loved. She needed to be as strong as Negan had proved himself to be all this time.

"And I meant what I said last night," Blake uttered quietly now. "It's them and us now. And...you know what? Simon was wrong..."

And with that, Blake stared deep into Negan's eyes.

"I'm not an Alexandrian. I never was," she said firmly, "I'm a Saviour."

At her words Negan, blinked, a look of pure awe dancing across his tanned features as he stared down at her.

And before Blake could say anything more, Negan had reached down and grasped her hand in his, pulling it to his mouth and pressing single firm and meaningful kiss to her knuckles.

"Oh...you certainly fuckin' are, Peaches."

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Gosh it’s been such a long time since I updated, hope you guys are still interested in reading more!

#negan #twd #negan twd #The Walking Dead #negan oc #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #jdm #negan thirst #negan story #negan fanfic #negan and blake #negan ofc #negan otp #negan imagine #negan prompt #negan fanfiction

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the-everlasting-dream · 6 years

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The Easiest Thing In The World - Dallas x MC

Summary: Dallas has been through some hard stuff and what shouldn’t be, suddenly becomes the easiest thing in the world.

A/N: Idk what compelled me to write this but I felt i had to after the latest chapter of BSC. I dont even like cowboy stuff so I have no idea where all of this came from. No one asked but idc this had to be done.

Word Count: 2200 (this was supposed to be 500 words!)

Warnings: None.

Tags: @choicessa , @meeraaverywalker , @drakewalkerwhipped , @quartzandarrow , @mfackenthal , @srawesleyghuewrites , @topsyturvy-dream , @enmchoices , @gardeningourmet @debramcg1106 , @alesana45 , @meladoridarcy, @blackcatkita , @tmarie82 , @annekebbphotography , @lizk77 , @jayjay879 , @tornbetween2loves , @akrenich , @theroyalweisme , @likethetailofacomet , @sleepwalkingelite , @littleblossom-18 , @ooo-barff-ooo

Running takes a lot of guts, a ton of fear and a dash of luck to be exact.

Dallas James knew that well.

Leaving hadn’t been easy. Leaving his mama, his friends, his whole life back in Tulsa and everything he knew because some jackass with attachment issues didn’t know when to quit. He’d been happy with Alex. They had that good old fashioned romance that played on Grandpa Wilbur’s worn out records that'd play on the brass gramophone when he'd coax to life every Saturday afternoon as he’d sit on the front porch watching the kids play jump rope. Alex was a good girl, pretty too, with that kind of smile that just warmed you up from the inside every time she looked at you. Dallas thought he was gonna marry her, he did. Heck he would have married her and by now they’d have given his mama at least two grand babies to chase round the house for bath time.

Dallas was a God-fearing man, like his mama had drilled into him since he’d been in diapers. But he couldn’t understand for the life of him, why God put men like Leeroy Davis on this earth. With a permanent sneer on his face and a shiny Glock glued from his belt, the star quarterback strutted around like he owned the place, doing whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted with a bunch of cronies worshipping the ground he walked on. That’s what you get when your daddy was the head council man and owned half the businesses in town.

Dallas couldn’t imagine how someone as sweet as Alex could have ever been with a jerk like that. He’d asked her once and she admitted she thought she saw something different that no one else did and she was determined he could change, determined to prove everyone wrong and show them that there was a good side to Leeroy Davis. Alex’s heart was always too big for her own good and thats blinded her to Leeroy's emotional manipulation. They’d been over for almost a year before Dallas had worked up the courage to ask her out and she’d agreed to see a movie with him at their local community theatre. He remembered neither hide nor hair of that film, he’d spent the whole time watching Alex instead, fascinated by how keenly she felt everything and how openly it showed on her face. By the time the credits were over, he knew he was smitten and by some miracle, she agreed to a second date and a third and a fourth.

He remembered the last time he’d seen her, dark hair tangled by the wind, tears pouring down those rose cheeks of hers, big eyes urging him to go, to take the best shot at escaping Leeroy and the jail sentence he’d placed over his head, while simultaneously she also pleaded with him to stay. She held his sobbing mama close, silently promising she’d take care of her and that last image, a final look thrown over his shoulder haunted him every day he was away.

Leaving sure as hell wasn’t easy but life on the run hadn’t been easier. He learned keep his mouth shut, not to ask questions and take work where he could find it. Doing odd jobs for almost no pay, picking up slack where they needed him to, he was never in one place long enough to get attached. Each place he’d been, he’d been treated with caution, kept at arms length, never trusted with anything other than manual labour. He was a black man in Midwestern America, it was nothing he wasn’t used to but that didn’t make it any easier. It wasn’t easy but he managed.

By the time he’d worked his way up to Montana, he’d been in more places that he could have counted and it was only by some miracle that the Oakleys had taken him on as a desperately needed farm hand. They were more than happy to take on someone who would work for the meagre rate they were offering. Dallas didn’t mind, work was work and as long as he had a roof over his head and something in his belly at night, it was enough. Cliff and his boys didn’t ask about his past and Dallas didn’t share. It worked that way and for a few months he was content. Not happy, just content. Sawyer was nice enough, Duke was tolerable, Cliff was, well, Cliff but together they had a lot of heart, something he’d missed since Tulsa. In the back of his mind, he knew he’d have to leave soon and it was the most sorry he’d been to leave. He’d been on the run from a past that would eventually catch up to him. He also knew that the further he ran, the sooner he’d run out of places to run to.

In fact, he'd been gearing himself up to break the news to Cliff that he was leaving when Jo went over to the Mendozas and he found himself needed more than anything. Sure Sawyer knew the farm like the back of his hand, Curly could handle the mechanics even Duke could hold his own with the herd with Cliff there to oversee everything but Dallas knew that losing him would be a huge blow to the Oakleys. He couldn’t in good conscience leave like that. Even with that city slicker, Dominique, whom Sawyer had picked off the side of the road, helping out, it still wouldn’t be enough.

Dominique was something else however. When he’d first rescued her from trampling Bessie, Dallas had given her two days before she was out of there, screaming for sparkling water, ducted air conditioning and a toilet that flushed without you thumping on it a few times. With a name as pretentious as that, he’d dismissed her immediately, being quite rude, almost hoping to put her off but she’d pushed back. She’d proved him wrong over and over through stubborn persistence or sheer volume of luck, he couldn’t quite comprehend how but there was no denying that the perfumed manicured city girl had cleaned out cow pads next to him, despite the risk of getting hay in her perfectly dyed brown blonde ombre locks. She hiked the Lonely Pine Trail — a hike not known for its easiness — with them all as per Cliff’s request without a single complaint. Wherever she was from, they were certainly made of harder stuff than he’d first assumed. Dallas had glanced over at her, taking in the lush scenery and the look of wonder on her face almost brought a smile to his own.

Smiling never came as easily as it did since Alex anymore. More important things like looking over his shoulder, avoiding the cops, landing a stable enough job had taken priority but he’d found his lips curving up more times in these last few days since he’d left Tulsa. There was something about her, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she radiated a hopefulness that he hadn’t felt since Alex. For so long he’d abandoned any thought of a future other than one on the run that he’d failed to see the possibility that existed in the spaces in between. Dominique brought a fresh perspective to everything, a different mindset and viewpoint than the rest of them and perhaps it was part of her charm but Dallas caught himself looking forward to seeing her around.

It was when they had made camp for the night and everyone was laughing at Juliette’s latest antics that Dallas realised how easy this suddenly felt. He watched as Broolynne frantically waved the flaming marshmallow she’d been roasting while Asha’s brother Miles scurried to prepare another one for her as Duke and Sawyer watched on in interest, half listening to Juliette’s ramblings. Dominique was listening with rapt attention, her every emotion playing out on her face and he almost smiled at the sight. For a moment, there was no weight of a potential jail sentence hanging over his head, no risk of being discovered just a few friends hanging out around the campfire at night.

That’s when it hit him. This wasn’t a permanent reality. Leeroy Davis was still hackling for his head out there, his poor mama probably worried sick that he hadn’t written in ages and Alex… he didn’t know what to think about Alex…

Not wanting to ruin the mood with the scowl on his face, he’d slipped off for a walk to try clear his head before realising he’d been followed.

Dominique.

Dallas wasn’t surprised that she’d come after him, she seemed to be great at reading people, far better than he ever would be. He was surprised however at how easily they fell into step together, walking quietly, the only sound being the leaves and twigs crackling gently underfoot. He tried to keep his thoughts on track, his current rumination being how soon he could move on from Oakley ranch after surpassing his usual five month timeframe. Cliff’s condition and the financial situation hung in the balance leaving a great many factors unaccounted fo-

Dominique’s hand had slipped into his at that point, derailing his train of thought, bringing him back to the present.

‘You okay?’

After she’d hesitantly affirmed it, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze to reassure her. Not long later, they reached a small cliff over looking a huge lake lined with trees silhouetted against the brilliance of the night sky. The last light of day could be seen peaking over the horizon and above them, a crescent moon hung amid the glittering stars, spilling soft light onto the water below.

‘Its so beautiful,’ Dominique breathed as they took a seat, legs dangling over the precipice as they looked out at the scene.

‘Yeah…,’ he agreed, his eyes on her and the way the moonlight reflected off her dark hair. ‘Beautiful.’

She glanced over, blushing when she realised he was already looking at her before doing what she always did, guiding them into an light conversation that immediately set him at ease. Dallas was just beginning to enjoy himself when he caught himself too late replying with a vague comment that definitely piqued her curiosity. He should have realised she wouldn’t have let him get away with it and as she waited for his response, he raked a doubtful glance over her. He knew that spilling all his secrets to some newcomer was a bad decision, it formed an attachment, the last thing he needed right now, with thoughts of moving on and all. But her green eyes compelled him and he eventually gave in.

Sighing, Dallas related the real reason for leaving Tulsa and bringing up Alex was as painful as he’d predicted. He’d been holding on to it for so long, hiding it away in the deepest part of his heart and now bringing everything to the light was just such a relief. He found himself revealing all the details about his biggest secrets to a girl he’d barely known for two weeks. There was no logic in it but once he started talking, it felt kind of cathartic to finally share the burden with someone else. He kept his eyes on one patch of grass inching its way between the boulders they were sitting on as he talked, not wanting to meet Dominique’s gaze until he finished his story with edge to his voice.

Her eyes were filled with empathy and concern when he finally looked at her. ‘I’m sorry Dallas. I wish there was something I could do to help.’

He should have recognised her willingness and generosity to want to help out even if she’d barely known him but he was feeling too jaded to notice, leaning back to stare out at the lake for a long moment.

‘Thanks for telling me…’ She put in after a long moment. He simply nodded, not trusting his voice but recognised her empathetic tone.

Sharing so much wasn’t in his nature and after basically baring his soul to her, Dallas knew needed something to smoothen the mood so he produced his harmonica, the one his mama’d given to him when he was young. He hadn’t played in years — he’d had no reason to — yet he kept it with him all the time. Soon enough he was telling her about his dream to be a singer. His mama had had the music in her and she passed that down to him.

Dominique’s rapt interest was more entertaining than anything he’d ever witnessed, the way her face lit up when he announced he’d sing her the song he’d written and how her expressions changed with the lyrics. He never took his eyes off her, wondering how in the world a random girl from the side of the road had gotten him to open up like he’d never had with anyone else before. He didn’t know how and he could’t begin to guess how she made everything in his crazy, mess of a life seem so easy…

‘You’re something else, Dominique,’ he told her, unable to find words to properly express himself.

A grin grew on her features and as if by some magnetic force, Dallas found himself leaning in closer, the strange desire to kiss her on his mind. And when she leaned into him, a part of him hesitated a little, reminding him of his past again, who he was and all he risked by getting attached, but when her soft lips met his, kissing her back suddenly was the easiest thing in the world...

#dallas x mc #dallas james #big sky country #choices bsc #sawyer oakley #duke oakley #brooklynne oakley #juliette mendoza #bsc miles #choices #playchoices #choices fandom #choices fanfiction

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somedaypast-thesunset · 7 years

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my relationship is going very good for once. admist the chaos we realized that were like each others #1 support and now i feel we both try to go out of our way to include each other in our plans. an that feels normal and comfortable but ive been very anxious about the amount of money hes been spending because that inevitably comes back to me - even when im not asking for money.

but losing my wallet was a huge blow to the like productivity and steps forward to improve life. it was like 2 steps back essentially. and my roommate is not a great roommate but i dont feel anxiety about him so i dont have anxiety in the place i live now. i definitely dont like alot of things - the mess is becoming too much and there is no common courtesy. i even tried to help by doing the dishes that sat for 2 weeks. i dont think hes a bad person and hes older so these are probably habits hes had for a long time but this morning it had spilled into the bathroom - the one common area i had been tryng to keep decent. on top of that he used all my toilet paper and didnt replace it. i just bought it on friday and now ill have to buy more.

and the thing is i dont want to get into a big thing about how he should not be doing this -- i mean its obvious he shouldnt. other people live here too. and like i guess if i also did it he probably wouldnt even care but i dont want that. ive become accustom to sharing a bathroom which you keep tidy for the next user. its just courteous.

but heres the thing - this location is exactly where i want to live. my bedroom is great - it’s big and spacious and dry and has air flow and no weird bugs. my cats choose to live in this room despite having more access probably because its clean an tidy an theyre able to move around. i have free laundry. internet access is good. these are all super important things but not having regular good access to a kitchen is not great. and i regret now giving away my skillet and electric grill because i think i would feel less bothered if i had more options to solve the problem.

many times over the past 2 weeks i thought to myself about the japanese who live in very very small apartments. like their apartments might be the size of my bedroom an they have bathrooms and kitchens in it. they keep pets in it. i mean is it a great way to live? i dont know. im not them. but i also like the idea of tiny homes. even though im complaining about this mess and lack of ammenities right now - i could solve this problem in the future in some way. especially if i get disability. and its not so big i have to move to solve it. its not ideal. its not even really “fair” but at the same time i’ve seen ENOUGH ads that give yu NOTHING for the price im paying but the abilit to sleep in the room. i could just get a hot plate. and that would honestly be fine. it would be good enough to survive. and like if i grew up and told this story, i would focus on the fact i got the rare chance to live in a spot i literally wanted to live in. like walked by and said “i would live there” and its a very nice apartment despite the mess. and i would talk about the room and the upgrade from my previous space and jut add on that i used a hot plate.

but i like tiny homes. i would live in a tiny home an feel very very content about it. i prefer a room. i legitimately prefer a small space which i am not overwhelmed by and i feel like its my own bubble that i can safely return to and survive. i could feed myself, bathe myself, sleep under a roof. period. thats what im looking for in a place and right now i almost have that. and its very annoying not to be able to use the ammenities right now but its not the end of the world - i could ask atleast 7 people to feed me an they would before i went to a shelter type situation. in reality i proably could ask for 20$ just to buy shit i dont have to cook. so there’s a lot of options here.

i’m trying to stay positive when things are not amazing right now. right now is pretty low. its mid month and im flat broke with zero prospects. in fact i threw out prospects to save my mental health an it still think it was the right decisions to make but i needed that money. i am trying to fight off deep depression - just sleeping an existing - and it’s not so bad right now. and right now is all that really matters because i cant control later. ive slowed down if not stopped my “extracirrculars” entirely but have all the time in the world for them. it just seems like such a chore. as does bathing.

i have an event coming up this week that ive planned for almost two months. it’s nothing big - i sold it to my partner that it was a fail-safe; something so simple that we could snap our fingers to do. we both see it as a nice small gathering of friends and friends of friends for a fun seasonal event, like friends coming over for a classy halloween party. my only true responsibility is gathering food & drink supplies. i want to have a small bake sale to raise money for my art group; maybe to buy advertising or something online and i had worked out some kind of budget but i dont think itll be applicable now and i dont even really have the money for it. i think if i sold drinks for $1 and we have 17 people attending, we can make atleast 15$. i want to make cookies and package them in a thing of 2 and maybe sell them for 1.50 or 2$. maybe if i can buy cheap cookie mix i could package 3 and it would be nicer value for 2$. i have to put in the effort todo this though but i think if i could do it really nice and very simple, it’ll be worth it and people will be willing to buy it. it would also be nice to paint a sign or have some flyers but a majority of them were ruined during the last event and i dont want to use more ink/paper from my usual free source.

i wish life were as simple as this though - making cookies and drinks and selling them to people to make cash to live on but it becomes convoluted in society and youre flash cooking frozen goods and serving drinks in under a minute with a bunch of rules and regulations. i read somewhere that our future would return to mom & pop stores - people would choose aa personal touch over mass produced and i hope that future exists. thats a future i can be in. i dont think ill survive in a high tech everyone is a number world.

though - yesterday i realized ive memorized my welfare ID.

im upset something as simple as getting a piece of paper signed in a 12 hour period and leaving it available to me couldnt happen. i felt comfort thinking it was in the proces and i had control over my day but i dont. before i take a shower i have to remove all he electronics from the bathroom because im a decent person. and its frustrating to myself that i cant simply reset from these hopes in my day to a new plan. its not like oh well i didnt get this i guess ill do this instead. no, its a lot of ruminating on it. wondering whats best now.

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