#fuckit main tag why not

[elecmon]

Okay SO: Every year my sister and I celebrate Odaiba Day with guilmon bread or some other treat. This year will be the first time hosting it in my own apartment, so I want to do a full-on digimon FEAST. So far we have guilmon bread and I want to do meat on a bone for the main dish, but what other suggestions would you make?

THAT SOUNDS AWESOME AND I AM MAD JEALOUS

cool cool so you got the main dish + side of bread, how about appetizers of deviled eggs

(not to mention you could always spice them up by making some of the whack recipes the kids were talking about in adventure. Both sub and dubs were wild)

 You could make/buy some Mochi ice cream! @/Motimon being Mochimon in the sub

(THO with some food coloring you could totally make most of the baby digimon LOL) 

adding in more meat to your menu, Birdramon hot wings (lol)

(god im hungry)

Some soup or dumplings on the side @/ 02!

Frontier had a lot of burgers and apples get used here and there!!

why not a Build your own Burger station (get some of those pre-cooked pre-seasoned patties from like Costco or a Walmart or smth)

Apple Bunny Slices! Apple slices cut up to look like little bunny ears (OR NEEMONS PANTS EHH, EEHHH??)

Add in more egg with Tamagoyaki @/ Data squad/Savers

Xros Wars/Fusion REALLY hammed in the Digibytes (and whatever they were called in the sub) So side dessert with some cookies in a small plate?

OH the Xros Wars manga had this whole cake land!! Weddinmon + Cakemon, you could totally bring in a strawberry shortcake into this. (bonus if it doesnt have any decoration on the top and you buy some red decoration jelly to draw something on it :EYES:

id eat shortmon

this post is reminding me I haven’t eaten yet and im now craving like 5 different things

Appmon also had the Gatchmonka, similar to the Digibytes

drink wise!! I’m gonna recommend Calypso. There’s a bunch of flavors, and they all have really bright colors that you can easily assign a character!! (SIDENOTE: I think theyre suuuuuper sugary, I had the blue one once and oohhh boy. Hoho boy.)

other drink wise is ofc Oolong Tea @/ Kou

UH thats all i have so ffffaaarrrrrrrrrrrr. tried to grab at least one item per season lol

[the-l-spacer]

Literally why are are ppl citing elektra as an example of racist writing in daredevil?? Like she’s smart she’s funny she’s cool she’s the rich daughter of a diplomat who can also dual wield. yes she’s extremely skilled and capable of kicking anyone’s ass but she goes weak for matt because he was literally the first person to see her as an actual PERSON rather than a weapon/a prize/etc. also the show isn’t afraid to show her both glamourised (in fancy dresses and her fighting and looking pretty in her sleek ninja outfit) and looking like absolute shit (hair down and tangled blood all over her FERAL) which I love. Also also she presents such an interesting narrative parallel to frank?? frank always just wanted to be a family man he was driven to kill because of the death of that family. Meanwhile elektra was born and raised as a child soldier who’s only purpose was to kill, but tries to be a better person when matt expresses belief in her innate goodness, and she realizes there’s a future for herself beyond the war with the hand! And her chemistry with matt is just SO GOOD (arguably better than any other love interest in the show aside from foggy lol) they work really well together and know each other inside and out but are utterly destructive because of their clash of morals and watching them is like watching a trainwreck (affectionate). Like the only criticism I have for the way she’s written is that she’s killed off before she can truly live out a happier future for herself, but that’s just plain comic book writing (her character was what. from the 80s when giving protagonists fridged love interests was in vogue) but they fleshed her out so much beyond just ‘sexy dangerous femme fatale who dies to give matt man pain’ in the show so where is all this talk about racist writing coming from??? Make it make sense

[silverdragonms]

Hello, fellow LinkedUniverse fan! You’ve been randomly selected to start a random, fun little questionnaire! You can answer these questions and tag however many people you want to pass it on!

1. Who is your favorite Linkeduniverse character?

2. Why are they your favorite character? What drew you to them? Be as detailed or as short as you want!

3. Have they always been your favorite character or has it been hard choosing?

4. What do you like least about your favorite character?

5. What do you like most about your favorite character?

6. What do you like most about your favorite character’s design?

7. What interaction/relationship with your favorite character do you like most, or that you want to see more of?

8. What’s your favorite Zelda game and is your favorite character from that game?

9. One a scale of 1-10 with 10 being most likely, how much would you die for your favorite character?

Forgot to tag people so @fuckit-hero-of-trains and @aureateart tag you’re it!

Okay random anon, you caught my attention so here are my answers:

1. My favorite character is Four, but he’s closely followed by Twilight and Sky.

2. They’re my favorite character mostly because of the Four Swords manga and also a lot of the fanfic about him is just amazing.

3. Twilight was my first favorite character, but then after reading “Alone Together” by Blueskullcandy and then rereading the Four Swords manga, that changed nearly immediately.

4. Hard to say, but I guess my main gripe is how little he’s been explored as a character both in canon and in fanfic. I understand he’s a difficult character to figure out, but I think that’s what makes everyone’s interpretation of him fun and interesting. I can’t think of a non-fandom reason for me to not like something about him, besides maybe that he’s ridiculously difficult to try and draw.

5. This is impossible for me to figure out, he’s just a fascinating character.

6. The way that all the games he’s in are represented in his design, like the little Ezlo bauble on his hood and the Kinstones on his belt, but then his entire tunic just makes me think of the FSA manga and it makes me happy.

7. I want to see literally any interaction with him, I’m not picky. Currently, I think my favorite would be how he interacts with Hyrule and Legend, but again, any interaction is awesome in my book.

8. Favorite Zelda game, I think, is Twilight Princess with BotW not far behind. Four isn’t in those games, but that’s fine to me.

9. Maybe a 7. I would die for him, but only after I laugh and/or cry over him getting hurt or injured or suffering emotional/mental/physical pain. I like a good story, and if it’s angsty and sad then that’s fun for me ^u^

[something-tofightfor]

Steel City - Christmas in July (Introduction)

No warnings. No pairing. No Summary. No tag list aside from my general. Just an introduction - to set things up. 

Word Count: 1592

You hurried through the small crowd of people that was already gathered on PPG plaza, the mirrored buildings that surrounded it reflecting the late-morning sun. Even though it was the Monday following Thanksgiving, the air hadn’t shifted to downright cold yet, and you enjoyed walking from your office to the plaza and back whenever you could for coffee or lunch. Gets me out of the office, that’s for sure. 

But rather than stopping even for a few minutes to finish your coffee and watch the ice skaters, you hurried back in the direction of your father’s building. Afternoon tour, only two guys, shouldn’t be difficult… Quickly crossing Stanwix Street, you tossed your empty cup into the trash can and turned right, headed for the main entrance of Four Gateway Center - the skyscraper that housed your father’s business. 

Thankfully, you were the only one in the elevator, and you rose to the 17th floor quickly, exiting and reaching into your purse for your keycard - the only thing that would allow you access to the floors above. Swiping it through the reader, you waited for the familiar beep, and then, once that happened, the gentle hum of the elevator descending to your floor. It was again empty, and after pressing the button for the 22nd floor - and your father’s office - you leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes. It’s going to be a long afternoon. 

 Lauren from HR was off for the week, and since you were waiting for a response from a newly acquired client and had downtime, you’d been roped into giving some of the new hires a tour of the building. I do know it better than anyone, I was the second person in here when we bought it. You’d done tours before, leading people around and explaining how the elevator access worked, guiding them to the cafe, showing them the break room and different departments… but those had all been larger groups of new hires, never only two, like you were expecting that afternoon. You saw your father through the expansive glass windows of his office, and without bothering to knock, you entered, unbuttoning your coat. “Morning, Dad.” 

 “You’re early.” He smiled at you, looking up over the tops of his glasses. “What - “ Tossing your jacket onto the couch against the far wall, you walked to the windows behind his desk, looking out over Point State Park, and beyond that, the juncture of the Ohio and the Allegheny Rivers. 

 “So tell me about these two.” You kept your eyes on the water, arms crossed over your chest. “Just so I -”

 “One’s security, and the other’s maintenance.” You heard him shifting in his seat. “Figured we could use the extra eyes on the building since we’re getting ready for the holiday party and have all the vendors coming in and out, and you know how it is with maintenance, they can always use the extra help.” Sure can, this place is massive. It still stunned you sometimes that your father’s success had happened seemingly overnight. A little government funding, shaking the right hands, the support of the right circles, and his business had taken off, growing from a small building in Mt. Washington to taking up the top five floors of one of the most recognizable buildings in the city. He deserves it, though. You looked over your shoulder at him, nodding. 

 “Yeah, the party’s always so busy, and there’s so much that goes into it.” Stepping away from the windows, you sat across from your father, leaning back in your chair. “Are they civilians, or military?” I bet they’re -

 “Civilians.” He tilted his head to the side, eyeing you. “Why do you ask?” Taking a breath, you thought carefully about your answer. Because the military employees always treat me like I’m someone important, and ...

 “Just curious. I haven’t done one of these tours for a while, and if either of them are -” There was a knock on the door, your father gesturing for whoever it was to come in. 

 “Mr. Taylor.” His secretary’s voice carried across the room. “They’re here, if you want me to send them in.” He told her to do so, and you stood, making your way back around the desk and taking your place next to your father, who stayed seated. It’s just a tour, get through it, and get back to work. Eyes on the doorway, you waited and after a few seconds, two men appeared. 

 One was average height and stocky, wearing a dark work shirt and clean black jeans. He was attractive, with deep set eyes and full lips, his close cropped haircut drawing all of the attention to his face, which was clean shaven. The other was tall and lean, long arms covered by a black shirt over black jeans. His hair was longer than the first man’s, one lock of it falling over his eye and covering part of his forehead. The lower half of his face was covered in a beard, and though it was patchy in places, there was good reason. Oh, damn. 

 Much of it was covered by his facial hair, but the otherwise smooth, pale skin of his face was marred with scars; the jagged lines appearing on both cheeks and his forehead, another on the bridge of his nose. Not letting your eyes linger - you were used to seeing the aftermath of injuries on many of your father’s other employees - you met the second man’s eyes, giving him a genuine smile that grew when you saw them for the first time. Those are the darkest eyes I’ve ever… “Welcome in, gentlemen. Please, take a seat.” Your father spoke, gesturing to the empty chairs in front of you.

 “We’ll stand, sir.” The first man replied, his voice deep and gravelly, your eyes moving to him at the sound of it. “If that’s alright with you.” Your father nodded once, not seeming surprised. Sir… but he said… Though you were used to people addressing the man formally, and he’d told you that both men were civilians, you doubted that it was true. Must be a reason he’s not… 

 “Of course.” Your father stood, pushing his chair back and clearing his throat. “Our HR specialist is actually out this week. I’m told she’s got family in now instead of for Christmas, so instead of her giving you a tour of my facility, you’ll be with my daughter today.” Your eyes moved between the two men, trying to guess who was who. The one with the beard’s obviously seen some shit, but the other one looks stronger… “She can answer any questions that you might have, and she’s got access to parts of the building that others don’t.” I do, I didn’t even think about that. “It’s nice to meet both of you in person. I like to talk to the men and women I hire before they start here.” 

 Reaching out, your father touched your arm and you stepped backwards, allowing him to pass. You watched the taller man’s eyes as they followed the movement, and by the time you looked to the other man, you saw that he’d turned slightly, angling his body toward your father’s. They’re both standing like…  “We appreciate that, sir.” The first man spoke again, clearing his throat. “I’m Frank Castle.” He held his hand out and your father took it, giving it a firm shake. 

 “We’re glad you’re with us, Mr. Castle.” He pulled his hand away and you watched him turn to the other man, extending his hand again. “And that makes you William Russo.” He didn’t speak at first, and then you watched as the man straightened his shoulders, nodding once. 

 “That’s me.” He took your father’s hand, and you were surprised at how smooth the movement was, as if he’d had a lot of practice. “You’ve got a great view.” You were surprised; not because of the fact that William Russo was making small talk with your father immediately after meeting him, but at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t what you expected, and it didn’t match with his appearance - at all. I don’t even know… 

 “That’s why I picked it.” He laughed, pulling his hand away from William’s and motioning for you to step next to him, which you did. “But I’ve got a meeting in about ten minutes, so you three should get going.” He paused and then introduced you by name to the men. “Anything she can’t answer for you… there’s no answer to.” You laughed at that, rolling your eyes. 

 “Not quite.” You shook Frank’s hand first because he was closer, the man’s fingers closing around yours and squeezing, and then you turned to William, stepping toward him. “But it’s always nice to hear, right?” You caught the faintest flicker of a smile on the man’s face before he took your hand, shaking it with the perfect amount of pressure. “Welcome to Taylor Focus, William.” You glanced over at the other man, meeting his eyes. “You too, Frank.” You caught the slight nod of Frank’s head and the way his eyes darted over to William before moving back  to you. Do they know each other? Stepping past all three of them, you picked your jacket up, draping it over your arm. “Alright, you two. Follow me. We’ll head to my office to drop this off, and then I’ll show you around.” 

 Saying goodbye to your father, you crossed the office hearing the footsteps of both men behind you. This is going to be interesting. 

 --- 

  Tag lists are always open. 

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​ @obscurilicious​@sweetybuzz25​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @lexxierave​ @gollyderek​ @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget​ @elanor-of-imladris​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @luminex3​ @geeksareunique​ @weallhaveadestiny​ @mfackenthal​ @thesumofmychoices​ @yannii04​ @beautiful-thinking​ @drinix​ @agentlingerie @blah-blah-fuckit-shit​  @dreams-with-thoughts​ @wangmangagavroche​ @traeumerinwitzhelden​ @jigsawlover10​ @malionnes​ @addictedtofictionalcharacters​ @eternitybarnes​ @beautifuldeasatre @marauderskeeper​ @lovemarvelousfics @pheedraws​ @fairywriter-oracle​ @aroyaldarknessblr​ @bisexual-space-slut​ @fific7​ @russobill

[moddux2]

Final post I will be making on this crap since I haven’t made a rant/comment on all this shit since I was asleep, going to do it in one big post and then disregard it.

[cracks fingers]

Okay this is going to be my one and only final post on the issue because holy shit what little bit of reasonable “hear out what they’re saying” has ran dry and i’ve had a good night sleep.

I woke up, read some stuff and am 200% done with this shit.

https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183297862370/hey-if-yall-are-minors-or-have-minor-characters

-only slightly valid point in here is me not marking things on a blog that has (18+) in the description at the top of the page.. I’ll give you that one, the rest though?

https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183301207595/alright-yall-listen-up

-this makes my head cave in, you make a post calling me one of the most disgusting things on this planet... and then say “stop it” when people send death threats and suicide bait? Get the fuck off your non-existent moral high ground you asshat.

https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183301289215/hey-theoriginalknightverse-you-wanna-do-this

-I was asleep when this was made so i’m reading this on the spot. I don’t think/know if i’ve ever interacted with you prior.

-Second, beginning your shit with “oh i was abused by a pedo when i was a child” is a terrible thing to hear but doesn’t make you any more or less qualified to talk about something so why bring it up at all? If not to get “victim points”?

-this catsuit nonsense, me basically saying, hey, you say “nice” and “cute” about art and art styles too, maybe I should throw your own logic back in your face and see how you like it.

- your next part “blah blah blah me good and don’t follow minors”, good for you neither do I, I literally cannot follow any more blogs because my main is pretty much at the follow cap with stupid meme blogs and dead blogs from the pre purge so i don’t know where you’re getting that from.

-your next part with the “they don’t age because dead, forever 13!”, fuck off with that reach, get that weak shit outta here. “Can’t age them up, checkmate!”, counterpoint, They’re aged up, fuck even in the lore of the comic with “paradox space” being a thing there’s a 100% guarantee in the infinite timelines/doomed timelines there’s a one where they’re out there of age, so your argument is bullshit even in universe.

- then you move onto condescending asshat territory again “just make a sfw blog", I make sfw, “not sfw enough, bad” fuck off ya unpleasable twat.

-”flag your blog as adult” - see previous point about (18+)

-” en g a g e your cr i t ic a l thinking” wow you’re a condescending prick.

https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183301355625/hey-i-get-what-youre-trying-to-do-but-your-post

-oh boy, ready for disappointment.

https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183301797570/rhysing-oc-hey-if-yall-are-minors-or-have

- I am entertained now nevermind.

-Dragging someone else’s blog you have a problem with, nice, unnecessary but nice, glad to see you’re venting everything.

-image link 1 and image link 2, not my art and I expect that you as the moral paragon of the homestuck fandom to bring down retribution on the two blogs i found those from also you beacon of just purity.

-image link 3... it broke me.

... Ya’ll are stupid, Moddux isn’t a minor, even a cursory glance at my blog for more than three seconds could have shown that. This, this is the point I actually realized you don’t give a shit about evidence and stopped taking you seriously as someone concerned about non-existent things, again, untagged on a blog marked (18+).

- link 4, not my art, link 5, a cheeky little accusation of “transphobia thrown at me” ;) you shouldn’t have you sly dog you.

link 5, actually my art, and was requested by a different blog, and within tumblr’s terms and conditions. also a casual “himself” throwing out genders on people you don’t know, very rude~.

link 6, I cannot defend myself on this one, sorry everyone, Terezi should be even bigger and I should have drawn Aradia in there as well, Sorry everyone again... Maybe a Vriska and Feferi flipping the viewer off as Kanaya  is doing a handstand?

link 6 part two, you seem to be a progressive type so i’m honestly quite hurt you’re against different female body types, so fucking ruuuuuude.

==

Point of note, I don’t care when I reblog, my mind is pretty much abscent, i see are and i’m like, neat, reblog, I get drawing prompts and requests from people and i’m like, k, and draw it. 

There’s nothing there except meme, shitposting (for the most part) and doing art requests for people that want/ask for it/have a troll description but no art of them, also weird requests because fuckit, i’ve seen the modern internet from its birth to its rapidly approaching slow death.

https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183302440860/and-yet-from-those-pictures-linked-none-of-them

-pointing out any problems with previous post ::

- If you can brand people monsters unjustly in a fever of self righteousness and cannot handle when people call you out on, perhaps just do with normal people do, block and move on with with your life instead of throwing hissy fits.

https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183302505740/anyway-anyone-else-who-wants-to-come-at-me-can

- “you have no critical thinking”

-shoo

- sounds to me like someone doesn’t like backlash after accusations, but that’s none of my business as i’m blocked.

https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183302705580/minor-here-who-saw-them-popping-up-on-my-dash-a

-an anon with a reasonable point of view a reasonable response to feeling uncomfortable with content and that’s fairly impartial and says a reasonable response. And what do you do?

- you make yourself a nice big dose of dopamine right to the head and tickle your ego to justify all this shit, dragging someone’s name through the mud, dragging a bunch of others through the mud just to make yourself feel G O O D that you did it and for no real reason.

https://rhysing-oc.tumblr.com/post/183304003670/if-i-may-ask-youre-not-mad-at-the-artist-that

home stretch.

-tagging post purge on tumblr is FUCKED.

- there was a nice tag where it could all be safely stored but it’s gone because tumblr is FUCKED.

-it would be real nice if... if there was some sort of check box one could tick on one’s blog to put it in a nsfw state where people don’t just stumble onto it all the damn time... oh wait, there was...

“And it was beautiful...”

A few solutions - Bring back the nsfw tag (won’t happen)

Purge all over 18 blo- oh wait... they tried that, it did fuck all except make a ton of content producers leave.

...

purge the under 18′s from the site... Could work but would likely do much like option two.

-

Long story short, my blog is marked 18+ in the description (which it already is), I’ll think about maybe sprinkling some more tags on content, and other than that... eh... nothing else will really change almost like I was doing nothing wrong to begin with and this is all just a collective waist of everyone’s time for the most part that did nothing but waist time, made you feel good and made a lot of people very disappointed and  very cross.

-

final note, those wanting to keep this fake ass nonsense going, just... don’t, you probably have better things you could be doing with your time, like... anything at all really.

[captmickey]

Monkey Island Tag

Got tagged by one @you-fight-like-a-cow

Favourite Monkey Island game: Hnnnnngh, it’s a total tie between Curse and Tales.

When did you start playing Monkey Island: Technically 1998, but I didn’t register that until after I played Escape in 2000.

How did you find out about it: So let me explain the previous answer! Back in 1998, I was at a family friend’s house and got bored. I followed my brother (like any younger sibling would) and saw him playing a computer game... it was Curse. More specfically, the ship fighting bit. Little eight year old me got bored and left before I even saw what Guybrush looked like. Fast forward to 2000 when Escape was released, my cousin came over to show off his brand-spanking-new Playstation 2 with Escape from Monkey Island and the three of us (me, my brother, and my cousin) all sat around in our living room playing it... and the little doofus that I am again did NOT register Guybrush as Guybrush, but rather “Hurr hurr what if Link was a pirate?” because I was in the midst of Majora’s Mask. I got intrigued and looked him up on the interwebs and rest as they say was that.

Favourite soundtrack piece: Excluding the main theme song? The sailing song. 

Favourite location: Plunder Island.

Favourite Guybrush ship (actual ship): The Screaming Narwhal!!

Favourite minor character: Hnnnnnngh, another total tie between another character... but if I have to pick one, Reginald Van Winslow.

Own any Monkey Island merch: Yep!! Gifted to me actually... two t-shirts and a sticker. I cherish it as the only merch I have. So far... I’m looking at getting a poster.

Favourite puzzle: The three-way sword fight with Guybrush, Morgan, and the other pirate. 

Top 3 puzzles that you couldn’t solve without a walkthrough: We’re doing this? We’re doing this: At number 3, getting the lock combination from the old man... no idea why it was difficult for me but it was. At number 2, the log puzzle in Escape because I didn’t know where the logs were suppose to go. AT NUMBER 1, IN ALL OF IT’S GLORY, MONKEY KOMBAT. EEP OOK FUCKIT.

Favourite ridiculous moment: Guybrush practically ridiculing LeChuck. TO HIS FACE. By having him do ridiculous things. 

Favourite quote: Hnnnngh.... too many to quote. But picking one, “Mr. Threepwood-- -RASPBERRY AT HIMSELF-” 

What’s the longest you’ve played the game non-stop: Um... 7-8 hours? But that’s me personally playing it. Otherwise, 24 hours. In my defense, there was this thing way back when Tales was first being released where every time a new chapter was about to be dropped, there would be a mad marathon to go through ALL of the Monkey Island games before the new chapter came out and a me and a few others would hop on to whoever was livestreaming and rooting for them. I won “Best Supporter” because I was the last remaining cheerleader because one of the streamers was stuck on Escape and I felt bad for the person.

I tag whoever is in the Monkey Island fandom and wants to do this!

[em-exceeds-change-zearu]

I'm sending this again because my internet cut out just as I was sending it initially so I don't know if it went through. But 22 & 23 for any YGO series cause I can't pick one.

yea i don’t see another ask in my box so looks like you made the right call. 

anyways, what if i did it for all of the series except vrains ig because it’s only got the one season out so far and i don’t feel like passing judgement on it yet.

22. popular character that you hate

DM - i actually don’t have any characters that i hate hate from DM, mostly ‘cause it’s been so long since i’ve properly watched the series that i don’t actually really have intense feelings for it? also because my main experience was the dub, which made everyone snarky and hilarious so even if i would have hated them under normal circumstances. if we went by character type tho i think i woulda hated dartz the most, tho? he’s not popular popular but i know he has his fans.

GX - hate anyone? from GX? nah. next

5D’s - team ragnarok. again, i don’t hate them, but my god they were boring as hell and in the end they were hamfisted excuses for allies that got very little character development and were pretty much there to make sure that team 5D’s got up to the arc cradle and that’s it. it might have also been tournament arc fatigue kicking in, but honestly we didn’t even see hide nor hair of them until after Yliaster entered themselves in their own tourney and so ugggghhh all their inflated importance rubbed me the wrong way.

ZEXAL - hating anyone from zexal is impossible, bye

ARC-V - kurosaaaaakiiiiiiiiiiiii shuuuuu- okay again, not hate, but man his character rubbed me the wrong way because it felt too flat and what character development he did get was hamfisted and too late but then again that was pretty much all the characters in arc-v. so it’s not that i’m singling him out it’s that he’s the one who stood out to me that had potential and was screwed over and also he’s probably the most popular out of all the characters i can think of. like. absurdly popular.

23) unpopular character that you love?

DM - tristan? i don’t think he’s unpopular in moreso that he tends to be ignored for duke iirc but i like the guy. stalwart and dependable is his middle name but he also tends to be pushed aside a lot as the one out of focus guy, haaaa. 

GX - i don’t think he’s unpopular either, but Chronos absolutely needs more love and attention and respect, na no ne. he’s grown so much as a person and as a teacher. i love it? i love him. 

5D’s - honestly? i think Mukuro deserved more attention. in show, i mean. he was usually only there to be trashed by Jack, but his duel with Yusei showed that he actually DOES have reason to be confident in his skills because he trains hard for them, and he clearly respects a good duel by how he reacts to his loss with Yusei as opposed to how he does with Jack, (and alternate universe shows that he teams up with Yusei and Aki in a riding duel tournament, so. PLEASE.) and and and. he needs more attention. he’s great. why wasn’t he in the wrgp. also idk if he’s popular or not but jose. mostly because is anyone in the iliasterbot hivemind Aporia paid atteniton to other than placido? i see tons of placido bee jokes but nothing about jose and lucciano and honestly? i love how lucciano is portrayed in tag force 5 because they really utilize the potential of his character so i guess i can safely say i love all the characters that make up aporia other than bitchboots. (bitchboots is fine, but he’s also boring.)

ZEXAL - hey. i really like tokunosuke. he gets overlooked a lot because of how tricksy he is and how little attention yuma’s squad gets after WDC, but still. tokunosuke is great. do more with him. 

ARC-V - sawtatari saaaaaaa (okay i know he’s not unpopular but i’m biased and i love him the most, fuckit, i have to mention him because he really doesn’t get that much attention compared to the yusquad and yuzusquad). anyways hey. you know who got a small character arc and everyone forgot about? fishing guy. he was great. too bad he got carded. 

[ribenaflip]

I was tagged by my fav @lightphilly so here goes this mess:

rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know

nicknames: takk, kat, katrina, sunshine

gender: nonbinary

star sign: Pisces

height: 5′4′’

time: 12:48 pm

birthday: March 12

favorite bands: king gizzard and the lizard wizard, of monsters and men, radiohead, spc eco, and wye oak

favorite solo artists: wrabel, troye sivan, tedy, perfume genius, muna, and aurora

song stuck in ur head: the villiage by wrabel

last movie: to save a life (I needed to watch it for school)

last show: survivor because I watch it with my family

why did you create ur blog: I wanted a place to post art, and I wanted to look at dnp and stuff

what do you post/reblog: dnp and then some art and funny stuff if I like it

last thing u googled: lyrics to on my own les mis (my friend was watching it and we were on skype and she wanted me to sing along)

other blogs: I have way too many saved urls, but the other blog I’m active on is @signedmeraki   , which is my main, and then I’m an admin for the phanartsupportgroup blogs, though I’m pretty sure that blog has pretty much become a twitter gc  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

do you get asks: no :( if you ever want to send me an ask though, I’d love to get some on any of my blogs

why url: I was divinely inspired

I follow: 338

followers: 31,,, oh well

average hours of sleep: 3-4

lucky number: 11

instruments: I can play a bit on the guitar, I play piano and used to compete, and then I do competitive voice

what r u wearing: a shirt from a state voice competition I competed in

dream job: children’s illustrator

dream trip: I’d love to go back to seattle or New York

favorite food: fajitas from On the Border

favorite song rn: Gay angels by Perfume Genius or supermarket flowers by Ed Sheeran

last book I read: Faust by Goethe for school. It’s actually really great poetry tho

top 3 fictional universes: marvel, I used to be really invested in OUAT, and then over the garden wall if that counts

thanks for reading

I tag @bloomhowell @aph-fuckit @shamfriend @legdabbinglester @optimistphan @rosejumper @hobbithair @snugglyhowell @ohnooooooooo @nonaestheticphan @zozeephan @theirforeverhome @cherryscentedlube @radianthowell @gamingmasbants @satansneedyass @corgisocks @turquoisespace @hellspawnhowell @space-girlll

[something-tofightfor]

He’s Not Here - Part 20

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 6119

Rating: R. Language. Mentions of sex. 

Parts 1-19 + the interludes and NSFW alphabet can be found on my Masterlist (link in bio)

Summary: As Billy gets closer and closer to opening Anvil, things shift for the two of you. And then... 

Author’s Note: It’s been two months and I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to write this chapter. Thank you for being patient. Thank you for reading. I’m sorry. 

Tagging: If you want to be added or removed, let me know

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​ @obscurilicious​ @sweetybuzz25​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @lexxierave​ @gollyderek​ @poindexted​ @ificouldhelpyouforget​ @elanor-of-imladris​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @luminex3​ @geeksareunique​ @weallhaveadestiny​ @mfackenthal​ @thesumofmychoices​ @yannii04​ @beautiful-thinking @drinix​  @blah-blah-fuckit-shit​  @dreams-with-thoughts​  @wangmangagavroche​ @traeumerinwitzhelden​ @agentlingerie​

Billy Russo:

@nananananananananananabatman​ @damalseer​ @benbarnestongue @chibiyanai​ @life-is-a-melody​ @songtoyou​ @thisisparadisemylove​ @littlemermaidprobz​

He’s Not Here ONLY:

@breanime​

Uncategorized: 

@banditthewriter @padfootagain @madamrogers @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals​ @likeorions​ @swiftyhowlz​ @dylanobrusso​ @malik-payne​ @lynne1993​ @ladyblablabla​ @dreamwritesimagines​ @audreychaz​ @tc-elliot @kind-wolf​ @honeyydippaa​ @binbonsadoration​ @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @ms-delos​ @jeanettexkillian​ @avengerswhore @elioelioeli0​ @projectcampbell​ @giggleberts​

(Banner made by the incredible @the-blind-assassin-12​)

You answered the phone without even looking at the screen, a smile on your face. “Hello?” 

“Hey.” The single word made you smile wider, your body immediately relaxing back into your office chair. “You almost done for the day?” You glanced around the office and then at your computer, mentally going through the list of tasks you’d assigned yourself. 

“I’ve probably got less than an hour’s worth of work left, why?” You heard him sniff and then sigh, but could tell that he wasn’t angry. 

“I’m gonna text you an address, alright? Go there after work.” You told him you would, brow furrowed. What is it? “Don’t look it up. Just come. Text me when you’re on your way an’ I’ll meet you outside.” You drummed your fingers on your desk, taking a deep breath. 

“Of course. But what -”

“No.” He laughed and you could picture the expression on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled, teeth bright and white as he grinned. “You’ll see when you get here.” So he’s already there. “See you in an hour.” Before you could reply, Billy hung up, the line going dead next to your ear. Shaking your head, you set your phone down, returning to your computer and opening up an email. 

Billy had been home for just under a week, but after that first weekend, you’d seen him less than you would have liked, as the constant phone calls and meetings with Schoonover’s people had taken up a great deal of his time. “It’s just while we get started,” he’d said, arms wrapped around you after he’d climbed into bed well past midnight. “Paperwork and permits and inspections and all that bullshit, but…” Billy’s voice had cracked for a second before going steady again. “Gotta do it right, you know? The first time? Sooner we get all this straightened out, the sooner I can start hirin’ people and…” You knew he was right - knew he was just trying to make sure he did everything that he needed to before the company took off. Billy didn’t want to fail, and you understood that, even though you desperately wanted to make up for all of the missing months. 

So you’d dealt with him leaving early and coming home late, dealt with him scouting out locations and meeting with people far more competent than you for long hours to create business plans. You’d understood when he’d canceled on a night out with you to go over sample supply orders of equipment and necessary items for a training facility. All of these things - and more - that Billy had done in a short time meant that he was many steps closer to having his company, and though you knew that things wouldn’t slow down right away, you looked forward to the day when Frank came home to help him, because it meant that Billy would have a different, yet still just as experienced and capable set of eyes on the plans. Two and a half weeks. 

You and Billy had visited with Maria and the kids, meeting them for dinner at a restaurant only a few minutes from their house, and Billy had outlined his plans for Anvil to her, telling Maria that when Frank decided he was done, there was a place for him that would keep him safe and keep him close to home most of the time. She’d been open to that - thrilled, actually - and after the kids had hugged you and Uncle Billy goodbye tightly, Maria pulled Billy aside while you watched from a few feet away, pretending to check your phone. You’d seen the way Billy’s jaw clenched as he spoke to her, head shaking back and forth. You’d seen the tears in Maria’s eyes, watched as Billy reached for her hand, squeezing it as he hung his head. Before turning to meet the kids at the car, Maria’s free hand went up to Billy’s cheek and she rose onto her tiptoes, kissing the other cheek quickly, which had taken Billy by surprise. 

He’d explained to you on the ride home that she’d asked him about the last deployment, about Billy’s early discharge, about why Frank had stayed behind. “I donno what to tell her. It’s not my place to tell her Frankie’s not...we’re not… I can’t tell her what we did over there, just like I can’t tell you. She knows when I’m lyin’ though, and…” He’d said no more about it, and though you hadn’t spoken about the Castles in the two days since, you knew the conversation - and his status with Frank - were weighing heavily on his mind and likely taking some of the joy out of whatever progress was happening. 

But as your Uber dropped you off in front of a warehouse in Lower Manhattan, you felt your heartbeat race. There’s only one reason he’d be here. You turned the corner and headed down an alley between two short buildings, eyes sweeping the open space and saw Billy, phone out in one hand and the other stuffed into a pocket as he leaned against the bricks between a long row of latticed windows. Oh my God. “Billy?” You cleared your throat as you neared him, Billy’s dark eyes rising from the screen of his phone as he saw you, lips quirking up into a nervous smile. “I’m here.” 

“I can see that.” Billy pushed off of the wall and toward you, and for the first time, you saw the small bag on the ground near his feet. “Took ya long enough.” He stopped in front of you, one hand coming up to rub nervously at the back of his head. “So.” Billy pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. “I…” He paused and you waited. “Fuck.” Billy laughed, looking over his shoulder and then reached for your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours. “C’mon.” You followed as he led you toward the bag - and toward a sliding door that you hadn’t seen before. “I want you to be the first person to see it. To see Anvil.” 

You couldn’t keep the grin off of your face as he bent down, picking up the bag without letting go of your hand and then reaching back to give it to you, the weight settling against your palm. What? “Billy is this…” He nodded as he pulled the door open, and within a few seconds, you were in a well-lit hallway, walking quickly past small rooms that you could see would make offices and a larger one that was marked ‘locker rooms’.  “When did you...?” You emerged into the large open area of the building, jaw dropping as you took in the high ceilings and large windows, the natural light shining in against the exposed brick. Billy didn’t drop your hand as you stopped in the center of the room, turning in a slow partial circle as you looked around, eyes growing wider by the moment. This is exactly what he wanted. 

“This’ll be the training room, we’ve got a bunch of equipment on order, and it’ll be here in a few days.” Billy cleared his throat. “We can use it for the basics, and there’s always open office buildings and shit to rent for tactical setups and…” He paused. “We’ll have to keep movin’ those areas around, keep our people on their toes, but this, right here, is it.” Billy pulled you toward a door that was set between more large windows, leading you down another hallway and toward a staircase that led upward. “These’ll be the main offices, where we’ll meet with the clients and the new recruits one on one.” You looked into each room - one on either side of the hallway and tightened your hold on Billy’s hand. “Needs a lotta work, but we’ve just got to get one done at  a time. Got some people comin’ in tomorrow to start remodeling.” 

You walked toward the stairs, Billy motioning for you to go ahead of him. “What’s upstairs, Billy?” But you already knew the answer, because it was the only thing you hadn’t yet seen - Billy’s office.  He led you through a maze of glass-walled offices, some of them with desks and chairs, others completely empty and then stopped in front of a large door at the intersection of two hallways. “Where are you taking me, Billy?” But he didn’t speak until you turned around to face him, and you saw that even though he looked anxious, there was still a smile on his face. 

“S’my office. You gotta go in first though, I -” And without waiting for him to finish, you turned away, pulling your hand from Billy’s larger one and put it on the doorknob, taking a deep breath. As the door creaked open, you stepped forward, taking three steps into the room before you paused, grip on the bag in your hand tightening. This is him. The room was large and airy, windows looking out on the city on one side and into the hallway on the other. You glanced up, biting down on your lower lip and took a step further into the room, nodding. 

“We’re going to remodel, put up some false walls, cover the -”

“No.” You turned quickly, shaking your head, and were shocked to see Billy holding his phone up, pointed at you. Why did he take a picture? “No, Billy, this is… perfect how it is.” You stepped over to the wall, running your fingers over the oxidized surface, footsteps echoing on the scarred wooden floor as you moved. “Why do anything to it? This is you, Billy, just…” You moved away from the wall and toward the other side of the room, where a desk and chair stood, the only two pieces of furniture in the room. “You’ve got a desk.” You reached the piece, your fingertips connecting with the smooth wooden surface before you turned to Billy again, one eyebrow raised. “The first thing you move in here is a desk, Russo?” 

“Yeah, I dragged it out of some dick’s empty office soon as I signed the paperwork earlier today.” Billy made his way toward you, tucking the phone back into his pocket. “Figured if I had a place to sit and make plans…” He shrugged. “Man’s gotta work.” You hopped up onto the desk, crossing your legs at the knee and set the bag down next to you, registering the dull thud as it made contact with the surface. “What do you think?” He was standing in front of you, lips pressed together and brow furrowed. “Of the whole place, not just…” He waved with one hand, gesturing toward the training portion of the building. “Do you think it will work? Do you like it?” You took a deep breath, answering without even thinking. 

“Billy, I think you could make this thing work with a facility the size of your apartment if you really wanted to.” The look of genuine relief on his face as he dropped his chin to his chest made you laugh, your hands going up to his face and forcing him to look back up at you. “I’ve been your biggest fan since the day -” He didn’t let you finish, leaning in to kiss you without giving you a chance to breathe. You tightened your hold on his face before sliding your hands to the back of his head and his neck, nails gliding through the hair there and then he stepped closer, large hands on your sides to hold you in place. Where does he think I’m going? He broke away first, leaving you to take big gulps of air, eyes focused on him. 

“Open that bag.” Billy cleared his throat and licked his lips, pointing. “Gotta be you.” You cocked your head to the side but did as he asked, unzipping the bag and dipping your hand in. Oh! Your fingers closed on the smooth surface and you knew what it was immediately, a laugh escaping your lips as you freed the glass from inside, holding it up. “You gave that to me when I thought… I’d never have this place or this company, or…” He sucked his lip between his teeth, pausing. “And I still don’t, but I have more than…” Billy was rarely at a loss for words, but you could feel the unease radiating from him, even as he stood in the office - his office - in the building that would soon be full of recruits and equipment. 

“Stop.” You straightened up, uncrossing your legs setting the glass down on his desk next to you before leaning forward. “You do. You have this place, and a plan, and … you’re going to be the CEO of a company, Billy. You did it.” You shrugged, one hand rising so that you could hook a finger into one of his belt loops. “You don’t have to leave again, Russo. This… your life is here now, here in New York.” With me. He stayed quiet, eyes wide and on yours for long moments. 

“I need you.” He shook his head. “More specifically, I need your company.” His jaw worked for a second. “I want to have some sort of event… End of May, maybe June? Introduce people to Anvil, show ‘em the facility, what we have to offer. That gives me two months to get everything in order, to get goin’.” Really? “Money’s not… there’s no budget, you tell me what it costs, and we’ll do it.” Billy laughed, rolling his eyes. “I can say that now, it’s crazy.” It doesn’t matter, I would have helped you anyway. You tugged on the loop again, shaking your head. 

“That’s fine, Billy. We can talk about it later. I’ll… I’d love to help you.” He let out a breath, ducking his head down to kiss you again, this time less thoroughly. “You really want to work with me, though?” He nodded and you used your other hand to pull him even closer, Billy’s hands settling back on your hips. “Alright.” You sighed, thinking. It’s all happening for him, and he still wants me here. “So, Billy…” You flexed your fingers, tongue poking out from between your lips. “There’s no one else here right now.” He shook his head, looking slightly confused. “And… this is a place that means something to you, right?” Billy nodded, head tilted to the side and a small smile on his lips. You removed your fingers from his belt loops, trailing them toward the zipper of his jeans and taking a deep breath. “Well, you told me once that you…” 

“Shut up.” He leaned down, mouth next to your ear and his hands sliding back, fingers curling around your body’s curves to lift you slightly off of the wooden surface. “You know you don’t haveta ask me twice to fuck you on my new desk.” 

---

A few days later, you sat at your desk, tapping your fingers on the surface. Come on, I’m going to be late. Your eyes scanned the small stack of printed pages and you sighed, gaze flicking to the clock and then back to the printer. Seriously? There’s not even color. The machine spit out the last page and you shoved yourself to your feet, grabbing for it and then quickly slipping it into the stack, tapping the pages on the desk once before sliding them into a folder. “Hey.” You spoke out loud, already grabbing your purse. “I’m headed to lunch with a client, I’ll be back around 1:30.” 

The open plan of your office meant that all of your coworkers heard you, each of them acknowledging your statement in turn as you headed out of the office and hailed a cab. You were meeting a client, yes, but the client was also Billy, which meant that there was no pressure for you to close a deal, since it had already been closed and you simply needed to get final signatures so that you could start actually planning Anvil’s grand opening party. You were meeting Billy at the pizza place you’d stopped the first night you met him, figuring that the warm weather was perfect for it. I haven’t seen him on a weekday in… You sighed as the buildings passed by, closing your eyes. Hell, I haven’t spent a full day with him in… 

Since Billy had leased the building that would house Anvil, he’d been busy. The long hours he’d spent researching facilities and having meetings with his investors had turned into even longer ones spent overseeing the remodel, working alongside a temporary crew to arrange furniture and rid the building of the things he didn’t need - and sitting down with a few military friends to create a plan of action for when they started recruiting. You knew that Billy had talked a great deal with Curtis about the right ways to train, but you didn’t know what they’d decided on. By the time Billy finally crawled into bed with you - either at his place or yours; he still found time to let you know where he’d be spending the night at each day - he was too tired to do more than mumble a few words before he fell asleep, his forehead pressed against your bare shoulder and one arm wound tightly around your waist. 

The mornings were a different story; Billy woke before you did, but didn’t let you sleep for too long, hands and lips roaming over your skin, words whispered into your ear and the feeling of his chest rising and falling never failed to get your attention, no matter how deeply you slept. You didn’t spend nights tangled with Billy in the sheets, instead the two of you greeted every morning together, wrapped in each other’s arms, and you were finding more and more reasons to enjoy the early sunlight as the days passed. It won’t be like this forever. You repeated those words to yourself each day as a reminder that once he got through the beginning stages of opening the facility, things would again shift, and Billy wouldn’t be in a state of constant motion - instead, he would be focused on training and finding work for his staff. 

The car dropped you off and as you climbed out of the back seat, you saw that Billy was already sitting at a table, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a hoodie, a tray full of pizza slices in front of him. His face lit up at the sight of you - something that you’d never get tired of seeing - and you felt yourself walk faster, hurrying over to where he waited. “Hey, Billy.” He stood, stepping around the table and reaching for you, his long fingers closing around your forearm as he pulled you close, the other arm going around your body tightly. “What… Billy, that…”

“It’s good to see you while it’s light out.” He spoke quietly, kissing the side of your head before he pulled back, still smiling. “I ordered… I didn’t want to waste any time.” Billy was still holding onto your arm, thumb stroking the soft skin beneath it. “I hope -” But you cut his words off, leaning in to kiss him. I don’t want to waste time, either. “Damn.” Billy said your name as you pulled back from him, taking a deep breath. “What’s that for?” 

“Happy to see you, Russo.” You cleared your throat. “Now, let’s sit down and you can sign this contract so that we can eat without getting pizza grease all over this thing.” Billy laughed, returning to his side of the table, and though it physically pained you to do so, you pushed the pizza tray to the side, setting the folder down in front of Billy. “I didn’t change much, just the date - it’s now going to be June 3rd, and I changed some of the estimated costs, since you decided you wanted more of the -”

Billy flipped through the pages quickly, cutting you off. “Got a pen?” You reached into your bag, frowning, but handed it to him. “Great.” He pressed the pen to the paper, initialing where he needed to. 

“Billy, you didn’t even read it, I -”

“I don’t need to.” The pen was still moving over the paper, Billy’s eyes downcast. “Out of all the shit I’ve agreed to, all the things that I’ve signed my name on… this isn’t the one I have to worry about.” He looked up, a tight smile on his lips. “I trust you.” He looked back down, eyes scanning the last page. “So, I sign this, and you work for me?” He glanced up, the tight smile changing to a smirk. “You gotta do what I tell you to?” Playing along, you leaned in. 

“You want me to do what you tell me to, Billy?” He nodded once, eyes flashing. “Then yeah, I guess that’s what happens when you sign that paperwork.” You chewed on your lower lip for a second, considering. “With a signed contract, I guess… I guess we’ll be in business together, Mr. Russo.” Billy laughed loudly, looking back at the paperwork and signing it with a flourish - even adding in his middle initial. Done, he pushed the papers back toward you along with the pen. “I guess that’s that, hmm?” Billy nodded, waiting until you’d picked the papers up and put them back into the folder, which you placed back into your bag to speak. 

“Pleasure doing business with you.” You rolled your eyes and laughed at him, reaching over to pull the tray of pizza back between you. Once you’d each taken a few slices and started chewing, Billy spoke again, tone thoughtful. “You do realize…” He swallowed, using one long finger to wipe a small smear of grease from his lips. “That I’m going to be a very demanding client, right?” You wrinkled your nose but stayed quiet. “I might need… things… at all hours of the night.” He blinked slowly, eyes on yours. “Might be a full time job for you…” He couldn’t keep a straight face any longer and started laughing, returning to his lunch as you laughed along with him. 

“I hope so, Billy.” Relieved - and more than a little excited to be working with Billy on Anvil, the lunch passed quickly, and as you stood to leave, you felt better about your relationship with Billy than you had in a week. This was so normal. He joined you on your side of the table again, one arm going around your shoulders as he pulled you close, lips finding your temple and lingering. “How’s it feel, Billy?” You turned your face up to him, reaching up to push the hair out of his eyes. “You’ve got a building. You’ve got a team. You’ve got a plan. You’ve got a date for a grand opening…” You’ve got me. He searched your face, lips pressed together. “You’ve only been home for eleven days, and it’s all coming together.” 

“It is, isn’t it?” He smiled, but you still saw the worry in his eyes, heard the tone of his voice. “It feels…” He swallowed, shaking his head. “Unreal. Like I... “ He looked around, squaring his shoulders. “I’m not gonna let anything get in my way anymore.” Billy looked back at you, the set of his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’m gonna have everything I’ve ever wanted.” You took a breath, watching him and then felt his hands settle against your waist, squeezing. “Everything.” Does that include me, Billy? I hope so. “You’ve gotta go back, you’re gonna be late.” Sighing, you nodded. You’re right. “Dinner tonight? I won’t be at Anvil late, we’re waitin’ on a delivery, so there won’t be anything for me to do after the guys workin’ on the locker rooms and the floors leave.” 

“Yes.” You nodded, leaning up to press your lips to his. “Dinner sounds great.” Your arms went around his neck, holding him close, and despite the fact that you were on a busy street, you kissed Billy like you were alone in your apartment or his, and he responded in kind, catching your lower lip between his teeth for a long moment as he pulled back. “What time?” Taking a deep breath, you ran your fingers through the ends of his hair, feeling Billy lean into your touch. “Want me to cook? I can -”

“Nah.” He sniffed, ducking his head down to kiss you again. “I’ll take you out.” He straightened up. “Go back to work, alright?” Flashing him a smile, you nodded. “I’ll text you when I’m done… 6:30 maybe? That sound good?” With a nod, you pulled back, dropping your arms to Billy’s shoulders briefly and squeezing. “I love you.” You watched his expression as he spoke, still reveling in the way he held you, the way his upper lip twitched slightly as he said the word ‘love’, the way his eyes didn’t look black in the bright sunlight - you could see the brown in them, the way they softened when he was comfortable - which he was when he was around you. Is this how it’s going to be now? 

“I love you too, Russo.” You pulled away from him, taking a deep breath. “See you tonight?” He nodded and you did too, stepping toward the curb and raising a hand toward the cars passing by. “Good luck with the furniture.” He laughed as a yellow cab pulled in front of you. “Bye, Billy.” He said goodbye to you as you slid into the backseat, turning your head to watch as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and raising it to his ear. Your cab pulled away from the curb, but you kept your eyes on Billy, eyes narrowing as he raised a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing at it. Hope everything’s OK, Billy. 

---

By 6:30 that night, you were ready to go, even though you hadn’t heard back from Billy. Probably just got caught up and forgot to text. Waiting, you busied yourself around your house, straightening - and righting - the picture frames on your TV stand, which had somehow toppled over. As you worked, your eyes moved to the clock on your stove every few minutes. Where are you, Billy? There was a knock on the door at 7:15, and you nearly sprinted to answer it, heart pounding. “Billy?” He stood in your doorway, and as you eyed him, you noticed that he was standing stiffly, arms at his sides. “Billy, you have a key, why didn’t you -”

 “Can I come in?” Confused, you stepped aside, nodding. What happened? Watching Billy, you frowned as he looked around the room, eyes lingering on the TV stand before he turned toward the kitchen, stopping as he reached the table. “Look, I…” He paused, staring into the room. “I can’t…”

 “Billy?” You stepped next to him, raising your hand to touch his shoulder, and were surprised to feel him flinch when you made contact with the material of his shirt. “Billy, what -” He turned to face you, finally, but didn’t look at you, his gaze over your shoulder and toward the balcony.

 “We need to talk.” You felt your heart lurch but you nodded, frowning at him and agreeing. What the fuck happened? “Sit down.” He pointed at the couch and you quietly moved over to it, sitting and waiting for him to take his place next to you. He didn’t, instead choosing to pace back and forth in front of your sliding glass door, hands behind his back and clasped together. “I’ve been thinkin’ a lot.” You watched him move and continued to frown, unease growing with every step he took. “A whole lot.” Billy paused, stopping and finally turning to face you. “This isn’t gonna work.” Still silent, you watched him bring one hand in front of his body, gesturing between the two of you. “I thought it would. I thought it was, but …” Billy shook his head and pulled his lip between his teeth, shaking his head. “It’s not. You’re not… I can’t be with you.” You heard the words but didn’t comprehend them, still staring at the man who, only five hours earlier, had told you he loved you. “I got Anvil now, and I need to focus on that.” Are you kidding me? “I won’t have time to be with…”

 “The fuck are you talking about, Billy?” Your tone was angry, but there was hurt in your words, too. “I don’t know what happened between you signing that contract and now, but…” You watched his eyes flash, but you continued. “What are you talking about, this isn’t going to work?” You stood but didn’t move to get closer to him. “I -”

 “I can’t be with you anymore.” Billy finally met your eyes, and you gasped at the look in them. There’s nothing there. He was looking at you as if he didn’t even see you, like he was talking to a stranger, his eyes flat and dark. “We had fun, and you’re a dream to fuck, but…” Billy shrugged. “That’s it.” Struggling to find words to answer him, you felt your lower lip tremble. No. Figure this out. “Trust me, you’ll thank me for this.” He shrugged. “You knew what you were getting into with me, and if I’m bein’ honest…” He trailed off and you watched as he sniffed, wrinkling his nose. “You had me for a lot longer than anyone else ever has.” Billy laughed, the sound short and loud, one hand reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “So that’s somethin’, right?”

 “Billy, this is…” You took a breath and let it out. “Whatever happened, just tell me about it, tell me… I’ll help you, this isn’t… this can’t be what you…” You stopped speaking, staring at him and trying to corral your thoughts. Isn’t this what you thought would happen? He’d get tired of you and… “Why?” you stepped closer to him, bypassing the coffee table and reached out again, touching his bicep. No flinch this time. “What did I do, Billy?” I know damn well I didn’t do anything, but…

 “You didn’t do anything.” Billy swallowed, shaking his head and then laughed again, eyes sweeping over your body. “You don’t do anything. You wanted me to have Anvil so bad… why?” Billy stepped closer to you, shaking his head. “Well you got your wish. Anvil is mine. You have no idea what I’ve had to do to get here, to this moment. You have no idea what I’ve had to sacrifice, what I’m gonna lose. You have no idea how hard this is, how much…” His words were coming out quickly, and you had to fight with yourself not to reach for him with your other hand. Keep him talking.

 “Billy…”You wet your lips, closing your eyes. “I only… I just want you to …”

 “You know what?” He stepped away from you, tucking one hand into his pocket as he turned to face the glass. “I was in my office earlier, lookin’ out the window.” Billy gestured with his free hand. “And I realized that I’ve got everything I ever wanted. I’m a decorated serviceman. I’m a business owner. I’m on my way to becoming a big name in security… but I’m not happy. If I have all that goin’ for me… why am I not happy? The only thing I could think of was you.” Billy turned back to you, a sneer on his face. “Do you know how much people like me get laid? Do you know what kind of women…” Your jaw dropped and you shook your head back and forth, tears filling your eyes. You knew this was coming, and yet you believed him when he said...

 “You’re an asshole.” He nodded. “I can’t believe you -”

 “I never pretended not to be an asshole.” He raised an eyebrow and it was the first genuine expression you’d seen on his face during the conversation. “I was always honest with you about that. Why change things now?” Your heart thumped in your chest as you looked at Billy, trying to find even a shred of the man you loved in him. “I need to go, I just wanted to -”

 “You need to go?” He nodded. “You come here 45 minutes late for a date, spout some bullshit about how this isn’t working, about how you don’t want to be with me anymore, you don’t explain anything, and now you tell me you need to go?” You shook your head. “That’s not how this works, Billy. Just tell me what the fuck is wrong and why this is happening all of -”

“There’s nothing to explain.” He licked his lips. “It should have happened before I left last time.” He shrugged. “But it’s happening now.” He blinked a few times and then rolled his neck, shaking his head. “You’ll thank me, I promise you. Just let me go, it’ll be easier for… you.” Billy stepped past you, walking toward the door and you counted to three in your head before you followed, using your hand to push the partially opened door shut before you gripped his arm, pulling him toward you.

 “Billy, stop it.” He stiffened, dropping his hand. “You’re not doing this, you’re not leaving me like this, you’re not -”

 “I am.” Billy turned back to face you, and this time, his eyes were cold. “We’re done. I don’t know what else I can say to you. It’s over. We don’t need to see each other again. That’s how it’s going to be.” He paused. “Except for work, because you’ll still be doing the event for me.” Shit. “I made my choice, that’s how breakups go.” What about my choice? “Look.” Billy sighed, lowering his head. “I wasn’t lying when I said I had fun with you, but…” He shrugged. “I gotta do what I gotta do.” He reached up, putting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing, the contact still sending a jolt through your body even though you were close to tears. He said your name, eyes on your face. You waited, unsure of what to say and trying to think of something to fill the silence but couldn’t come up with anything. Is this happening? Are we really… is this over? “Don’t call me unless it’s Anvil related.”

 He spoke suddenly, tearing his hand away from your shoulder and then, before you could react, he was gone. You watched the door shut behind him, and though you expected it to slam, it instead shut with a quiet ‘click’. What just happened? Go after him. You moved without thinking, stepping forward and pulling the door open, but Billy was already gone, the hallway empty. Call him. You turned from the door, and it slammed shut behind you as you moved back to your table and picked up your phone, pressing the button to call Billy and raising the device to your ear. It rang once and then went to voicemail, and you swore under your breath, hanging up and dialing again. The third time Billy denied your call, you closed your eyes, slumping down onto the cushions of the couch. “Billy, I don’t know what just happened, but…” You paused, feeling the tears sliding down your cheeks. “I don’t know what’s going on, Billy. But I love you, and I need you to know that. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry that you don’t think I can help you.” You pulled the phone away from your ear, opening your eyes, and then put it back. “I love you, Billy Russo.”

 Ending the call, you dropped the phone onto the cushion next to you and drew your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. The room was silent, except for the sounds of your crying, and the more time that passed, the harder your body shook. By the time you were finished - exhausted, eyes red and swollen, throat sore - it was fully dark out. We should be done with dinner by now, headed back… You groaned again, groping for your phone, but you had no missed calls, no messages - nothing. Taking a deep breath, you unlocked your phone and dialed Billy again, Just answer, please.

 But after one ring, you got sent to voicemail again, Billy’s voice in your ear and asking you to leave a message.

[something-tofightfor]

Ink III

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 4363

Rating: M (Language, drinking, little bit of mentions of light zest)

Author’s Note: I meant for this to be short, but as always, I started writing and decided that I couldn’t shortchange these two by eliminating the reasoning behind their actions or decisions - or give them a chance to have a little fun at the expense of others. (I love Logan and I *won’t* apologize for that e v e r) ... and then I realized that if I finished this event in this chapter... it would be like 10,000 words long, so I am splitting it up. Enjoy.

Summary: The yacht party continues for you and Logan, and he opens up to you in a few very surprising ways.

As always, feel free to ask to be added or removed to this tag list. No hard feelings. 

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix @agentlingerie  @blah-blah-fuckit-shit  @dreams-with-thoughts  @wangmangagavroche @traeumerinwitzhelden @jigsawlover10 @malionnes​

Logan Delos:

@nananananananananananabatman​ @damalseer​ @chibiyanai​ @life-is-a-melody​ @songtoyou​

Uncategorized:

@banditthewriter @padfootagain @madamrogers @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz @dylanobrusso @malik-payne @lynne1993 @ladyblablabla @dreamwritesimagines​ @audreychaz​ @tc-elliot @kind-wolf​ @honeyydippaa​ @binbonsadoration​ @ms-delos​ @jeanettexkillian​ @avengerswhore @elioelioeli0​ @projectcampbell​ @giggleberts​ @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes​

The story of the bathroom had come out with little difficulty though you didn’t turn to look at him while you spoke. Logan listened without interrupting you, his hold on you never faltering. “But they were right, Logan. I shouldn’t be here. This is for…” You paused. “For people that have accomplished something at Delos.” 

“You’re here as my date.” He spoke into your ear. “You’re here because I want you to be, and that’s indisputable.” He lowered his mouth to the bare skin of your shoulder again, lips pressed to it. “I hate that…” He sighed and you jumped slightly, feeling as his tongue trailed across the top of your shoulder blade slowly and deliberately, the skin there still ink free. “I hate that you feel that way.” Logan said your name again and you pulled away from him, turning back to face the man you were with, watching as a piece of his hair waved gently in the wind, loosened from the rest by the way he’d had his head tilted down to kiss you. “Can I tell you something?” Logan swallowed, reaching out to trail his fingers up your bare arm, eyes focused on the movement. “We’re here right now because it’s away from everyone, and we needed a break, but…” You watched as his expression changed, worry filling his eyes for a moment. “But I also wanted everyone to be able to see us talking.” 

 “Logan, what… why?” Logan lowered his eyes and you waited, wanting to let him continue at his own pace. 

 “I make it a point not to… bring people to these things more than once.” He looked back at you, shaking his head. “There are a few exceptions, of course, people that I’m actually friends with that come with me when I don’t feel like dealing with a one off or don’t want to…” Logan sighed. “It’s become kind of a… game to them, I guess. ‘Who’s Logan going to show up with? What kind of date is he going to bring with him? Is he going to get drunk or high and…’ Fuck.” Logan went silent again. 

 “But Logan, how does that… have anything to do with me or us being up here, or…?” 

 “We’re not drunk. We’re not high. We’re not mingling or the center of attention or…” He sighed, his hand closing around your shoulder. “You’re somethin’ to look at, sure, because of your tattoos, but you’re not…” He wrinkled his nose. 

 “Is that why I’m here, Logan?” You stiffened, sure that he felt it. “Because I’m different? Because you want to show them that you can break the pattern and shock them, that you can be seen with someone that doesn’t fit the -”

 “No.” The single word was laced with warning and you stopped speaking right away, blinking. I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have worn… “I want anyone lookin’ out those windows or walking by to see that I’m here with you, but not because of you.” Logan swallowed, waiting. “I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?” He tilted his head to the side. “I like your tattoos. I like looking at your body and touching it. But that’s not all I like.” Logan took a breath, chewing for a second on his lower lip. “I like you. A lot. I liked you when you first started at Delos and turned me down constantly. I liked you when you joked with me instead of treating me like you couldn’t even talk to me like a normal person. I liked you when you finally let me take you out, but wouldn’t go home with me.” His tone had changed, Logan leaning forward and staring into your eyes. “I liked seeing you at the Christmas party last year, in that dress, not lettin’ anyone give you shit.” Logan wet his lips, voice dropping with every word. “I liked sleepin’ with you, and you staying the night instead of me telling you to go.” Your eyes widened. This is… “You’re here as much for me as you are with me, and it’s never been that way before.” 

 Logan stopped speaking, looking away from you and back out over the water. You could hear the music and the sound of laughter from behind you, feel the mist coming up off of the ocean and hitting your face with the wind as the bow of the boat cut smoothly through it. You could also feel Logan’s hand on you - no longer on your shoulder, instead resting again on your thigh. You’d treated him differently from day one, never expecting that things would progress from friendly conversation and Logan hitting on you to the point you’d reached. You’d been warned, after all, by your coworkers as well as your friends about Logan, about the reputation he had, about the way he was with men and women, even coworkers. You’d met men like him before, only interested in the chase, in saying that they’d been able to work their way past your defenses and into your bed before disappearing, either right away or shortly afterward … and you hadn’t wanted to be another notch on his bedpost. 

 But Logan hadn’t pushed you the way you’d thought he would after his initial approach. Sure, he’d been persistent, asking you out at least twice a week for a month in a different way - suggesting a bar or restaurant that he wanted to try, dropping a hint that he was free on a certain night… but when you’d stuck to your guns and turned him down over and over, Logan had changed his approach too, no longer being as bold about asking you out, instead waiting for you to say hello, to ask him how he was doing, to ask him what he’d been up to and who he’d been out with lately. And I was never afraid to, you thought with a small smile, reaching up with a hand to push your hair behind your ear, eyes moving over his profile. He’d changed his strategy, given you the opportunity to take the lead, and you appreciated it, still never thinking that it would lead anywhere … but after the Christmas party, when you’d seen him watching you from across the room even though he’d been there with a date, you’d decided to see what would happen with him - and it had led you to your current situation: spending the day on a 150 foot yacht two miles out on the ocean, surrounded by Delos elite and at Logan’s side. Cut him some slack, this is new for him. He’s trying.

 “Logan?” He looked back at you immediately, again waiting for you to continue. “We should go back.” You saw the tip of his tongue poke out from between his lips, but he stayed quiet. “We both need new drinks, and I want to…” You shrugged your shoulders. “I want to kiss you in front of those women from the bathroom.” That got a laugh out of him and Logan stood up, the smile still on his lips. “What?” 

 “I want to tell them off and you want…” He trailed off, waiting for you to stand. “Alright.” Wait. “Bar, and then we’ll find…” But he stopped speaking as you reached forward with both hands, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt more so that it was open to midway down his chest. “I can’t… I’m…”

 “You’re Logan Delos.” You sighed, fixing his collar before sliding your hands up his neck and to the base of his skull, fingers threading through the ends of his hair. “You run this company.” He smiled down at you, the look in his eyes growing warmer by the second. “You can do whatever the fuck you want.” In the split second that followed your declaration, Logan moved, his hands going to your waist and pulling you closer, lips crashing against yours with no warning. Should have expected that. He kissed you hard, your fingers curling inward as the seriousness of the conversation slipped away. Wouldn’t have said any of that if he didn’t mean it. You tried to talk to yourself as he kissed you but words failed you from the moment he teased your lips apart with his tongue onward, the faint taste of the citrus from the John Collins he’d had with dinner lingering throughout the remainder of the kiss. When you finally pulled away you were breathless, your heart pounding. “And…” You hummed, leaning in to tug on the slightly curled ends of his hair, exhaling. “You wanna show off all my skin, so it’s only fair that…” 

 Logan laughed loudly, pushing your hip before turning away from you, his hand catching yours as it dropped back to your side. “Alright.” He snickered again, glancing back at you over his shoulder, the skin of his neck slightly flushed over the collar of his shirt. “Let’s go.”

--- 

 By the time you made your way back into the main room, the tables and chairs had been mostly cleared out to the edges, opening up the center of the space for people to mingle - and for some of them to dance. “They said the upper deck was for dancing,” Logan muttered as you pushed past a group of people to get to the bar. “Why would they… so close to the goddamn bar.” Laughing you pulled on his arm, smoothly turning to the side and sliding through the narrow space, Logan close behind. 

 “Logan.” You turned to face him, trying not to grin. “A ton of people dancing on the top level? Drinking? That’s a recipe for disaster.” You thought he was going to respond to you, but you watched as Logan froze, his eyes going cold as they looked over your shoulder. “What -”

 “That asshole.” Drink forgotten, Logan strode away from the bar, pulling his hand from yours. What’s going on? Logan stopped just outside of the doorway and near the stairs leading up, and you frowned but didn’t say anything, waiting. “What is she doing here?” William’s shoulders stiffened but he didn’t speak, instead looking away from Logan and back at the woman he was talking to - a petite blonde woman in an immaculate black dress. “I specifically said -”

 “You’re not the fucking end-all, be-all Logan.” William’s voice full of venom, he leaned in, eyes flashing. “We needed more staff, and it made sense to bring in -”

 “My sister is here, William.” Logan leaned in, gesturing to the woman. “And you’re here with her?” She’s a Host. You stared at the other woman, recognition coursing through you after a few seconds. Dolores. She’s from Sweetwater, we… Logan avoided her, he… “It’s not real, William. None of it ever fucking was.” The woman - Dolores - smiled gently, lowering her head. 

 “I don’t know what the trouble is, Mr. Delos, William and I were just -” 

 “You have a job to do, sweetheart.” Logan was snarling, his attention on Dolores, though he was trying to keep his voice low so that the other guests didn’t hear what he was saying. “You need to go do it. Now.” Without another look at William, Dolores ducked her head at Logan before she turned and walked away, heading back toward the galley. “William, are you a fucking idiot?” Logan paused. “Wait. I already know you are, don’t answer that.” You watched Logan shake his head, his eyes narrowed. “You’re a lot of things, William” He’s using his full name, this isn’t the usual, it… You stepped backwards, wanting to give the men space, but Logan’s hand shot back, gripping your wrist and tightening around it. Alright then. “But I didn’t think you’d be fucking stupid enough to… where’s Juliet, you dick?” Logan hissed the words out, stepping forward and pulling you with him, your dress swirling around your legs. “Where’s your wife?” Without saying anything else, William turned and stormed away, leaving you with Logan, who was nearly vibrating with anger, his grip on your wrist just shy of painful. 

 “Logan.” You spoke gently, reaching down you touch his fingers with your free hand, stroking over them. “Logan, that’s a little tight, you need to…” He immediately relaxed his grip on you, bringing your wrist up to his lips and kissing it, locking eyes with you. 

 “I’m sorry.” He murmured the words against your skin, turning your arm over and kissing the top of it too, head shaking back and forth. “I didn’t mean…” Assuring him it was ok, you gestured back toward the bar, Logan nodding twice as he followed you. It didn’t take you long to order your drinks - Logan’s a double - and as you leaned on the polished wood of the bar, waiting, Logan took a deep breath. “Your appointment’s Tuesday night, right? After work?” You nodded, turning your head to look at him. “Do you think…” He swallowed, glancing down at the bar and then over at you. “Do you think there’d be an opening for me, too?” 

 Jaw dropping open, you stared at Logan for a few seconds before responding, head moving up and down. “They should, Logan, there are always -”

 “Good.” He looked down, watching as the bartender slid two glasses in front of you, the folded bill passing from Logan’s hand into the man’s palm before you could even blink. “It’s time.” You didn’t press him - after all, you’d see what he meant exactly in only a few days, and instead lifted your glass to your lips, taking a long drink. As the cool liquid made its way down your throat, you closed  your eyes. Maybe he’ll forget. “So who were they?” Logan slipped his arm through yours and then stepped backwards, pulling you away from the bar. “You said you wanted to…”

 “Logan, it’s not a big deal, they were just being assholes.” Even as you spoke, your eyes scanned the room, looking for the two women. You saw the redhead and her husband, standing at one of the tables and talking with another couple, saw Juliet - minus William - dancing with a small group of people, saw Jess, laughing with an older man, but you didn’t see either of the women. “They’re not in here.” You mumbled the response without thinking, and felt Logan straighten next to you. 

 “Well then.” He leaned over, his lips glancing off the skin at your temple. “Guess we’ll have to go elsewhere.” Stepping back out onto the main deck, Logan turned you toward the stern of the boat, where the space was more open. You got sidetracked a few times, people stopping Logan to speak to him, and he introduced you to everyone - not calling you his date, not calling you his friend - but by name and your title, letting everyone know that you worked at Delos. Though people politely introduced themselves back to you, only one of them - a woman about your age - made any effort to start conversation with you, preferring instead to defer back to Logan. But they aren’t even talking about him, they’re talking about themselves. 

 As the night wore on, you realized that of the hundred-some people on the boat, you could count on two hands the people you’d interacted with that were genuinely interested in speaking with Logan, and not just trying to impress him. “It has to be exhausting, Logan.” You were standing on the top deck of the boat, close to where you’d started the night. The breeze had picked up, but it was still warm, and the night air surrounded you, the music from downstairs carrying up to your ears, but quiet enough that you could still talk at a normal volume. Logan was next to you, though his body was angled toward yours and pressed against it, one long arm stretched around your body to grip the railing on your right. “These people…”

 “Told you.” He took a deep breath. “Circle jerk.” He sighed and you watched his eyes in the glow of the small lights that were strung above you. “These people are important to Delos, but…” He shrugged. “I only talk to most of ‘em at these things.” Logan wet his lips and moved the hand on the railing in, pulling you closer to him as he continued. “They all want something. Recognition - which a lot of them deserve, because they do good work - or, or, I don’t know, attention, or a promotion or…” He shook his head. “Somethin’ I can’t give them.” Logan went silent and you didn’t know what to say. Does he want me to ask? Does he want me to… “I love this company, and I always will, but…” 

 “Logan, you don’t -” His hand left the railing, landing on your hip. 

 “I do.” He was staring at you, the expression on his face focused. “I’m only one person, and they don’t…” He smiled at you, but it was tight. “I am exhausted, and that’s why…” You’d never heard him so hesitant before, so open about his place within Delos, so candid about the people he worked with. Why is he doing this? “That’s why I opened up to you like I did.” What? “You’re worth more than any of ‘em, and you know it.” Logan leaned in, and you reached up, pushing back the stubborn piece of hair from his brow, surprised when he turned his head and kissed the inside of your forearm, lips lingering. “I can’t do this alone.” You dropped your hand, resting it on the center of his chest; palm against his bare skin, fingers atop the soft fabric of the shirt. “I’ve been tryin’ to for so long, and I can’t do it anymore.” 

 “You don’t have to, Logan.” Your heart was pounding. “I’ll -” He pulled you against his chest, trapping your hand between your bodies. You didn’t start speaking again, instead letting him hold you, both of his hands on your back. “Logan, you…” He mumbled something into the top of your head that you didn’t catch before sliding his hands to your sides and pushing you back. 

 “Thank you.” He swallowed, as if saying the words was foreign to him, but you could hear the sincerity in his voice. “I mean that, and I won’t overload you, but I just …” You shook your head, smiling at him again. “It’s nice bein’ here with someone that I like.” Logan’s eyes widened and after a few seconds, he rolled them, smoothly slipping back into his public persona. “Who woulda thought, hmm?” Guess we’re done with the serious talk for now. “There’s a couch open.” He tilted his chin over your shoulder, wrinkling his nose as he smiled. “Wanna sit?” You nodded, and Logan again pushed you backward, not letting go of your hips until you dropped down onto the comfortable cushions, looking up at Logan. “Save me a spot.” He pointed at the stairs. “Gonna go get us drinks.” 

 It wasn’t until Logan had disappeared back down the stairs that you realized you hadn’t even missed having your phone for the last hours, nor had you noticed Logan reaching for his, even though you knew he had it in his pocket. In all the times you’d been with Logan outside of Westworld, he’d always had his phone on him, and there had rarely been times when it had gone more than an hour without the screen lighting up - someone wanting or needing him or an issue with work requiring his attention. There were times when he ignored it, sure, but more often than not, he’d pick it up, focusing his attention on the person on the other end of the line, even when he was lying next to you, his long fingers trailing over the ink-covered skin of your back and sides. 

 You’d gotten used to it, understood that as a Delos, as the vice president of Delos Inc, he had responsibilities, but the only distractions being the people immediately in front of you had been a welcome change, and you found yourself smiling as you looked out over the crowd, one elbow resting on the center of the back of the couch as you used that hand to prop your head up. I don’t fit in with them, not completely… but neither does he, even though… You heard a laugh, watching as Logan made it to the top of the stairs, each hand carrying a drink. He was with two women, and though he was laughing at something one of them said, his eyes sought you out, one of them winking shut before he gestured toward you with a hand. Oh, Logan. They’re not going to like that. 

 You were right - you saw the look on one of the women’s faces as it fell, her eyes landing on you, but you didn’t move, still perched on the small couch, legs crossed at the knee and watching the trio as Logan stepped toward you, still talking. They crossed the final few feet and you caught the end of the conversation - one of the women asking when the next time Logan would be in Westworld was - and his dark eyes finally left yours, gaze returning to the speaking woman’s face. “Not sure.” Logan shrugged, stopping in front of where you sat, reaching out with your glass until you leaned forward to take it from him, purposely letting your fingers brush against his. He said we’re together, so… You watched as Logan’s lips twitched into the barest of smirks. “When’s the next new narrative going to be ready?” 

 “You’re asking her?” The dark haired woman was the first to speak, voice incredulous. “Why does she -”

 “Two months, Logan.” You leaned forward, the hand that wasn’t holding your drink glass resting atop your knee. “Tentatively, at least.” You shrugged too, staring at Logan. “Could change, but that’s when they’re telling me I’ll -”

 “Well.” Logan looked down at each woman in turn, licking his lips. “That’s the next time I’ll be in Westworld, then.” Opening her mouth to speak, Logan didn’t give the blonde the chance. “Park’s always more fun with a partner.” He grinned at you and you watched as the dark haired woman rolled her eyes before muttering goodbye under her breath and walking away, her friend following her. “Was it somethin’ I said?” You laughed as Logan sat next to you, urging your body into his as he tucked himself into the corner of the couch. 

 “Logan, this isn’t…” But his arm went around your shoulders, one of which rested against his chest as you leaned back. “Logan, this is a work function, I -”

 “You’re fine. This is fine.” He sighed. “But if you’re uncomfortable, don’t feel like…” You looked over at him, watching you with his dark eyes. “I’m sorry.” Instead of moving like you were sure he was preparing for you to do, you leaned back against him, resting your weight against Logan and cleared your throat. 

 “Those weren’t the two.” He chuckled behind you, lifting his drink to his lips. “If that’s why you brought them over… but, Logan, does that mean you’re coming to the park again the next time I go, or?” You did shift away from him at that, straightening so that you could look at him, suddenly realizing the weight of the words. Was he implying that… 

 “Isn’t it more fun when it’s the two of us?” He smiled again, but it wasn’t a wide one; this one was all for you, the expression softening his features. “I thought last time was…” Logan ran his tongue along his lower lip slowly, gaze filling you with a heat that you could do absolutely nothing about while on a boat with so many others. This is unfair, Logan. “... very informative.”

 “I go where and when they tell me, Logan. You go where you want to go.” Filled with a strange sense of relief that Logan still assumed that you’d be interacting with each other in a few months time, you settled back against him, the two of you falling back into conversation as the party continued around you. By 9:30, as the boat had started to head back to the dock, you and Logan had each had another drink, as well as flagged down one of the Host servers to bring you a tray of appetizers, which you shared between the two of you. You’d laughed a great deal, the Delos employees that you could tell Logan enjoyed talking to stopping by more frequently to converse, and you found that you were relaxing more and more. Is it because I’m more comfortable, or because I know it’s almost over? 

 Logan never stopped touching you, even though you both shifted on the couch, sitting up straight, Logan pulling himself out of the corner and holding your hand in his lap, urging you to settle it against his knee or lean back against him as you talked to the others, not shying away when you reached over to squeeze his shoulder or touched the side of his face, letting him know that you needed to go back to the bathroom and wouldn’t be long. All things considered, you had to admit that while you still felt out of place, you were having a good time - seeing Logan in his element, watching how much people simply wanted him to pay attention to them, watching how he never gave them his full attention, reserving the most important parts of himself for you. You still didn’t know what would come of your time with Logan, but you were determined to do what you’d been doing since the first time you’d asked him in to your apartment - enjoying every second of it without thinking too much about what would happen down the road. 

Returning to the couch with drinks in your hands - a Coke for yourself and a Sprite for Logan, knowing that he’d want something sweet to end the night with, along with some caffeine - you were surprised to see a small crowd of people standing around where Logan was sitting - both women that had accosted you in the bathroom among them, the brunette sitting in the place you’d vacated, her body angled toward Logan’s. Shit.

---

[something-tofightfor]

Main Street

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word count: 5895

Rating: M (language, violence, mention of cheating, sex talk, use of guns)

Summary: On a work trip to Westworld, you decide to play the game your own way instead of getting overwhelmed. 

Author’s Note: I’m an hour-ish late, but this one is for @the-blind-assassin-12 - HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY! I’m sorry that this wasn’t done while you were still awake, but there’s nothing wrong with one extra gift, right? Hope you enjoy! 

Tagging: 

@banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @madamrogers @suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @drinix @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @shinebrightlikeafanbase @littlemermaidprobz @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz @dylanobrusso @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @dreamwritesimagines @waytoobsessedwithmyfandoms @lexxierave @ms-delos @elanor-of-imladris @lynne1993 @dreams-with-thoughts @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mfackenthal  @traeumerinwitzhelden @bucky-is-my-precious @weallhaveadestiny @ladyblablabla @sweetybuzz25 @luminex3 @christinawxxx @thesumofmychoices @audreychaz @tc-elliot @kind-wolf @gollyderek @honeyydippaa @thesandbeneathmytoes @malik-payne @geeksareunique @bellastellaluna @agentlingerie @elioelioeli0 @wangmangagavroche @projectcampbell @giggleberts @ificouldhelpyouforget @damalseer

“Remember, when we get there, we’re going to have to go through and get dressed for the park, and -”  You rolled your eyes, staring out the window of the high-speed train and into the darkness. I know. You were on your way to Westworld with a small group of people for your annual work leadership retreat, and one of the other women, Amy, hadn’t stopped speaking since you’d boarded. Even as the immaculately dressed men and women came around to offer drinks and food, she’d been talking, telling you everything that she’d read about the park, everything that she’d seen online. “And there aren’t any devices allowed in the park, so we won’t be able to take pictures or anything, so I don’t know what to -”

 “Amy.” You took a breath, turning your head away from the window and throwing back the rest of your drink - a smooth, delicious whiskey that you were sure that you’d never be able to afford anywhere aside from the all-expenses paid trip you were on. “We’ll be there soon, can you just… relax? We’ll see what it’s like when we get there.” You’d been looking forward to Westworld, had been shocked when your name had been chosen out of the larger group to attend, but Amy’s excitement coupled with the fact that you’d be on the trip with your ex were dampening your spirits. “Hey.” You leaned over, shrugging. “I don’t mean to cut you off, but I’ve been looking forward to this for months, and I just don’t want to ruin it for myself.” The other girl smiled at you, still looking slightly annoyed. “I’ve purposely tried not to read anything about the individual narratives in the park, because I want to…”

 “You want to what?” Gritting your teeth, you looked away from Amy and toward the source of the voice. Grant. “You’ve been talking about this place for years, and suddenly you don’t want to anymore? We’re almost there, and -”

 “I just want to be surprised, Grant.” I wish I had another drink, where’d that woman? “I’ll never get to come here again, so I want to make the most of it.” He slid into the seat across from you, putting a finger up to his lips as he leaned forward, his eyes moving between you and Amy. What? 

 “Make the most of it in what way?” He winked and you fought back a wince. He thinks he’s so charming. “With the narratives or the Hosts?” Grant stared at you, the corner of his mouth turned upward in a smirk. “I hear the Hosts are a lot of fun, and you are single now.” Yeah, I am. 

 “What would it matter, Grant?” You glanced over his shoulder, seeing the woman you were looking for and raising your empty glass in her direction, shaking it back and forth twice. She nodded, turning away. “Even if I wasn’t single, they’re not real people, and the email we got encouraged us to partake in everything Delos and Westworld have to offer.” It’s not cheating if they’re not real people, asshole. “Since when did being single stop you?” You got in the dig just as the woman reappeared with your drink, handing it to you from perfectly manicured fingers with a glance that lingered on you and a subtle smile on her lips. Wait a minute, is she… 

 “We’ll be arriving to the Mesa in only a few minutes, so please try to finish that before the train stops.” Her voice was soft and you nodded, eyeing her. If she’s not real, then I’m in for it once we’re in the park. The woman was beautiful, but there was something off about her, in the way she moved easily through the enclosed space, the way her fingers were perfectly still as she carried the drink, the way not a single hair was out of place, nor was there a wrinkle on her clothing. Damn. “Sir,” she said, turning her gaze to Grant. “You’ll need to go back to your assigned car so that we can partner you with your Guide once we reach the platform.” 

 Grant blinked rapidly, eyes focused on the woman. You’ll be partaking in everything, won’t you. “Of course.” He stood, smiling at the woman and then glancing back down at you. “See you there.” He turned and left, leaving you with Amy and the other woman, as well as the other passengers of the car, ones that you didn’t know. With a knowing glance, the woman nodded and then walked away, leaving you in silence. This trip… I can’t get out and away from him soon enough. 

 --- 

 The experience of entering the Mesa and choosing your gear for the following few days was overwhelming, and you didn’t know how they’d managed to customize everything without ever seeing you in person. The clothing you tried on fit you perfectly, from the period-authentic undergarments to the belt - including a gun holster - that you fastened around your waist. Choosing comfort over fashion - and fulfilling your childhood dreams of being a cowboy and not a damsel - you chose pair of fitted black pants, soft leather boots and a loose-fitting white shirt, rolling the sleeves up to your elbows and leaving a few of the top buttons undone. Your Guide had reappeared once you’d gotten fully dressed, just as you were finishing securing your hair with pins into a messy twist at your neck. 

 “One last thing.” Beckoning you closer to her and through another door, she took you into a room that was filled with assorted hats - black on one wall and white on the other. Which one? “Choose.” You stepped toward the black hats, mind racing. Despite your desire to remain surprised upon entering Westworld for the first time, you’d looked into the experience, and knew what the hats symbolized. White for the good guys, black for the bad… Trailing your fingers over the material of one, you took a breath. 

 “I’d rather not wear a hat.” You shrugged, turning away from the walls and toward her. “I don’t think I need one, and besides…” you tapped your pocket, where a large stack of time-appropriate currency was tucked. “I’ve got all of this money, I can pick one out if I decide I need it.” Taken aback slifghtly, the woman nodded once, gesturing toward another set of doors. 

 “You’ll be on the train with your group.” The woman touched your arm, offering you another smile. This one’s faker than all of the others. “Though we don’t often do this with guests, since you’re here with a group and we were instructed to do so, you’ve been paired off with another member of your party, and will start your journey with them.” That’s not how this is supposed to go. “The bartender on the train will let you know who you’ve been partnered with, and where you’re supposed to go once you reach your destination.” It’s Grant. It’s going to be Grant. Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you pushed past the woman and through the doors, stepping into a train car. This one took your breath away as soon as you stopped moving, the door closing behind you. It’s perfect. You were more impressed by the attention to detail within the enclosed space than you were to the things you assumed had been Hosts, and as you stepped slowly through the car, you became more and more enthralled with your surroundings. 

 “It’s impressive, right?” Startled, you dropped your fingers from the fabric on the walls of the train car to look to your left, at the man that had spoken to you. “Spared no expense, even startin’ with the ride in.” You smiled politely at him, eyes taking in the smooth skin of his face and the dark eyes beneath the brim of his hat, eyes that were giving you a once over from where he was sitting. Another Host, and they look more real inside the park. The man opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off when you heard your name being called. Shit. 

 “This is so cool!” Amy’s voice carried closer to you, and you turned away from the man and back toward her - and the bar - where other people from your group were gathered. In spite of yourself, you moved closer, listening as she recapped her time in the dressing room, the Guide she’d been assigned - a man - and why she’d chosen a white hat. But your attention was pulled toward Grant, sitting at the bar with his fingers wrapped around a glass that was filled with a dark liquid. Guess he’s really gonna play. Your ex was dressed in head to toe black, an obnoxiously large hat on top of his head and an even more obnoxiously large pistol strapped to his waist. 

 He looked up as you walked closer, an impassive expression on your face. Get this over with, let them tell me I have to start with him, so I can get mad about it and start drinking. “No dress?” You rolled your eyes, signaling for a drink of your own and once it was passed to you, you took a long swig, eyes moving around the train car again. “Thought you’d pick a dress, or at least a -” 

 “No, I wanted to be comfortable.” You sighed, calling for the bartender’s attention. “My Guide told me that you’d be able to tell me who I have to start this trip with?” The man behind the bar smiled kindly at you, nodding once. 

 “I can, all of you.” He reached beneath the counter, pulling out a sheet of paper and set it down on the smooth wooden surface, pointing. “Instructions for where you’re going to start in Sweetwater are…” You stopped listening as your eyes scanned the paper, looking for your own name. Shit. You found it, near the bottom, and just as you’d feared, you were partnered with Grant, and were supposed to head to the ammunition store to stock up for a bounty hunt. 

 “A bounty hunt?” You looked up at the man and then over at Grant, bringing a hand to your face. “That’s… I don’t want to…” You sighed, feeling your heart sink. You’d been looking forward to your time in the park, getting to do what you wanted, go where you wanted, interact with the Hosts how you wanted… and now it was all impossible. A bounty hunt is fucking stupud. 

“Hey, it means we get to spend time together.” Grant reached out, tentatively placing a hand on your arm, but you pulled away quickly, shaking your head. “Look, I know we ended things -” 

 “No, Grant. You ended things, and you didn’t feel bad about it when it was happening, so why should you now?” You stepped back, taking your drink with you. “You gonna tell Steph about the fact that you’re spending a week with me, or is this another time you’re going to go behind someone’s back with another woman?” He was silent, but to his credit, looked a little ashamed. “I’m going to go and enjoy this train ride before I’m stuck with you for the next however many days, Grant. Please leave me alone until we get there.” Without another word, you turned completely away from him, walking over to the seats on the opposite wall - and as far away from your work group as possible. 

 Taking a window seat, you turned your body to stare out at the passing landscape - a desert, gorgeous in its own right - and fumed. Of course it had to be Grant. Why would it be anyone else? The two of you had been coworkers before you’d started dating, working long nights together and getting to know each other, and the relationship had started out naturally. You’d gotten tons accomplished together, becoming an inseparable team, and for the better part of a year and a half, you’d been happy - in love with the man, even - until you’d found him with another woman at dinner one night, his nonchalance telling you that you’d been in it much deeper than he’d ever been. 

 Mercifully, you’d been promoted, moving to a different department, and though it had been months since things ended between you two and you knew it was for the best, the wound was still fresh. You and Grant managed to work together when necessary, not wanting to let your personal shit get in the way of your careers, but spending days with him, in the middle of nowhere? That was going to be a challenge that you wanted nothing to do with. They’re paying for this, though. I have to. Raising your drink to your lips, you continued staring out the window, eyes focused on the landscape, mind far away. “Here for work?” The same voice as before spoke again, drawing your attention, and you looked back over at the man, sitting two rows behind you, black-clad arms crossed on the seat back in front of him. “Overheard your conversation.” He grinned, shrugging his shoulders. “Sounds like you’re not too thrilled.” 

 “I am. And no, I’m not.” You swallowed more of the alcohol, ice cubes clinking against your teeth. “That’s my ex, and we’ve been ‘paired’ up while we’re out here.” You turned away from the window fully, mirroring the man’s posture and crossing your own arms. “This is our leadership retreat, and they want to promote team building.” The dark haired man laughed, and you realized that he’d removed the hat, exposing perfectly styled hair a few shades lighter than his eyes. 

 “Yeah, we do that here.” We? Pausing for a moment, the man lowered his head slightly, extending his hand. “My name’s Logan, and my father’s … well, our company’s got a lot riding on the success of this park.” You shook the man’s hand, brow furrowed. “Maybe you’ve heard of my company? Delos Inc.?” You nodded, surprised. Shit. He’s not a Host. 

 “It’s nice to meet you, Logan.” Logan Delos? His hand was warm in yours, grip firm, and you stared at him for a moment before tearing your eyes away. “Who do I have to talk to about the way things are run? I’ve got a lot to say.” He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly and somehow making him more attractive. 

 “You’re talkin’ to me right now.” He leaned in, glancing toward the bar before looking back at you. “That’s a good place to start.” Is it? “Really, though, the park can be a lot of fun, so you shouldn’t let whatever … whoever is botherin’ you ruin it.” Logan shook his head, his expression changing slightly. “Especially if it’s your first time.” He cocked his head to the side, one lock of hair falling out of place. “It is your first time in Westworld, right?” You nodded, feeling yourself smile. “Damn.” Logan raised an eyebrow, the grin spreading across his face. “Wish I could show you around.” Oh do you? 

 “There is something, Logan.” You leaned closer, lowering your voice. “The Hosts… how… real are they?” He didn’t answer right away, eyes fixed on you. “I think I’ve met a few already, I know the bartender is -”

 “You have. On the train comin’ in? In the rooms gettin’ ready?” He gestured with one hand. “The guides? The employees? Most of ‘em are Hosts. It’s better business that way, we can rotate them out and they don’t get tired, don’t ever give a bad impression to Guests.” He sighed. “They’re real enough, but not in the ways that matter.” That’s… an interesting way to put it. “Hey.” He reached out, touching your shoulder and then pointed toward the window. “We’re getting close, you should look.” You did as he told you to, turning back toward the window and focusing your eyes on the landscape. 

 You were glad you’d listened, as the mountains flattened, exposing the flatlands, rocks and sparse trees in varied colors and shapes against the bright blue sky. It’s beautiful. You were speechless as the land changed slightly, well worn roads and paths coming into focus, the desert turning into grasslands and buildings taking shape on the horizon. As the town became visible, you felt a grin on your face, excitement increasing as the train slowed down the closer you got to Sweetwater. You heard your coworkers and the others on the train murmuring about the view, but you couldn’t look away, mouth opening slightly as the train finally stopped. “Logan, it’s…” You turned back to the man, noticing that he hadn’t been looking out the window, instead looking at you, watching as you took everything in. “Wow.” He grinned again, and you were struck by the way the expression changed his face - made him look younger. He’s so… But you pushed the thought out of your head as you stood, blinking. “I hope you have a good trip, Logan. It was nice meeting you.” Unsure of whether or not you should stick your hand out again for another handshake, Logan made the decision for you, reaching out to you and taking your hand in his. 

 “Oh, I’ll have a good trip, alright. This one’s for pleasure, darlin’.” Logan squeezed your hand before reaching down to put the hat back on his head, tipping the brim at you as he let go of you. “Before you head out with whatever his name is, you should stop in and have dinner and a drink at the Coronado.” He nodded. “It’s well worth it. The food in here is all great.” Without saying another word, Logan turned, joining the crowd of people as they disembarked, leaving you standing at your seat. Damn. You glanced out the window, eyes searching for his hat among those walking toward Main Street, but hadn’t found it when Amy’s voice interrupted your thoughts for a third time. At least I wasn’t paired with her. 

 “Hey, come on, we’re all going to go to the saloon before we split up.” You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. “What?”

 “I’m… Ok, yeah. But I’m gonna have dinner in the Coronado.” Amy shrugged, waiting until you followed her and the rest of your group off the train, boot-clad feet settling easily into the dusty ground. Alright, Westworld. Let’s play. 

 --- 

 A few hours later, you were pushing yourself away from the table, full and feeling warm from the food and alcohol that you’d consumed. After a drink or two at the Mariposa, your group made their way to the Coronado at your suggestion, taking up two large tables. Logan had been right - the food was delicious and the Hosts were attentive, interactive and very, very lifelike, but you hadn’t found yourself settling in comfortably the same way your coworkers had seemed to. Their skin should be darker from the sun, their clothes dirtier, their hair messier… You found yourself looking for the things that set the Hosts apart from the human guests rather than trying to lose yourself in them, no matter what you did. “Hey.” Grant’s voice cut into your thoughts, and you looked over at him, fighting back the urge to roll your eyes. “Gun store’s closed, it’s too late, so we’ll have to start out tomorrow morning. That OK?” 

 “Yeah, Grant. Whatever.” Swallowing the last of your drink, you stood, eyes moving over the other people in the room. “Got a room upstairs anyway, so…” You shrugged, pointing toward the door. “Gonna go walk around for a while, I’ll see you in the morning.” Without waiting for him to respond, you stepped away from the table, throwing a few dollars down to cover your portion of the meal before you turned and headed out the door. 

 The sky was cloudless, and after making your way a few doors down from the restaurant, you stopped, leaning against a post and looking up. So many stars. You picked out a few constellations, a smile on your face  and then continued walking, nodding to the people you passed, stopping to look in shop windows and to pet a horse or two, trying to process the fact that none of the things around you were real even though your eyes told you that they were. Grant’s words from earlier echoed in your mind, him asking if you were going to make the most of your trip, and you contemplated it, wondering how you’d find a male host, how you’d entice him - whether or not you even wanted to. The Mariposa was filled with working women, but you hadn’t seen any men in Maeve’s establishment, nor had any of Sweetwater’s Hosts caught your eye. It’s gotta be easier for the guys. 

 By the time you reached the end of the street opposite the train depot, you were resigned to simply experiencing the trip for what it was and nothing more - trying to use it to unwind, to clear your head and get ready to get back to work. Being with Grant would make all of that more difficult, but the guide and bartender had only said that you needed to start the trip with him, not spend the whole time by his side. Maybe I’ll get to explore on my own after all. You laid down in the grass off to the side of the path, staring up at the sky and lost track of time, the sounds of the town growing faint in your ears as your body relaxed. That’s real, you thought as you watched the clouds moving over the stars, the bright points of light winking at you. The smell’s real. The wind and warm night air calmed you, but the gentle clip-clop of hooves brought you out of your trance, focusing your attention. What’s that? 

 Instinct telling you to remain still, you turned your head slightly, squinting your eyes toward the path and watched through the grass as a small group of horses passed silently, riders wearing all black. It was a group of men, and you caught a few words of their conversation, your eyes widening. They’re going to rob the bank. You waited until they passed, turning toward the end of the street where you knew the bank to be before you stood, following them. What can I do? The gun at your waist likely wouldn’t stop them - or at least all of them - and though you knew that you couldn’t die, you also knew that getting shot would still hurt. 

 “Where you sneakin’ off to?” Logan’s voice from your right paused your movement, your eyes still on the group of men slowly making their way down the street on horseback. “You gonna get involved in all that?” Glancing over at him, you saw that he was leaning against one of the railings on the porch of the Mariposa, no jacket, white shirt untucked, his hair messier than it had been earlier. Someone’s had some fun. Is that… lipstick on his collar? 

 “Maybe.” You glanced down and then back at the men, shaking your head. “I picked the wrong gun, though.” He laughed, stepping toward you and reaching down to his waist. “What are you doing?” 

 “I always carry two guns.” He pulled one from his belt, smoothly flipping it so that the grip was facing toward you. “Use one of mine.” Thinking for only a split second, you took the revolver from his hand, giving it a once over. “Gettin’ shot hurts like a bitch, I’ll warn you.” Grinning at him, you nodded, already stepping toward where the men had dismounted in front of the bank, searching through their saddlebags and glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention.

 “Where do I go to give this back to you?” You held the gun up, eyes back on Logan’s face. “It’s your -”

 “Oh, I’m comin’ with you.” Logan was right next to you, mouth close to your ear so that he could speak quietly. “Haven’t gotten to shoot anyone yet this trip, and I’m not about to let you have all the fun.” Oh, well then. You nodded at Logan and the two of you quickly walked down the street, guns drawn but held loosely by your sides. You had no idea how your aim would be - you’d been shooting before, but it had been a while, and you knew that though the guns would work, they were designed to be historically accurate, meaning that they weren’t going to fire the way a modern gun would. Oh well. It’ll still be fun. Glancing at Logan, you saw that he was grinning at you, eyes bright. He’s so excited. He mouthed the words “you or me?” at you, and you thought for a second before you used your free hand to point at yourself, watching as his smile grew. The two of you stopped a few feet away from the horses and Logan planted his feet, waiting. Here goes nothing. 

 “Hey!” You called out, clearing your throat. “Bank’s closed.” That was fucking dumb. The four men turned to look at you, three of them with their weapons drawn, and you felt your adrenaline spike, one arm outstretched and your gun raised chest high. 

 “Feet.” You heard Logan mutter the word, and you adjusted immediately, licking your lips. Thanks. “You heard the lady.” Logan stepped forward, never taking his eyes off the men. “Bank’s closed.” The words sounded much less idiotic coming from his mouth, and though you didn’t want to be distracted, you felt yourself glancing at Logan. No! Focus. 

 “What are you going to do, woman?” The tallest man in the group walked a few steps toward you, hand hovering over his hip, where you could see the butt of his gun. “Shoot me?” He sneered, fingers flexing slightly. “You ain’t got it in you.” Oh you have no idea. You applied a little more pressure on the trigger, lips pressed together. “We’re gonna go into this bank, and we’re gonna empty the safe, and you’re gonna let us, because -” He was interrupted by a gunshot fired by one of his buddies, the bullet whizzing a foot past your head. Shit. You jumped but swung the gun slightly, firing off a shot of your own, and before you knew it, Main Street was filled with the sound of gunfire.

 You got off three shots and heard one pained noise before you felt Logan’s hand on your arm, pulling you toward the cover of the water troughs in front of the general store. “Get down!” Your heart thumping in your chest, you crouched next to him, checking your gun. “You’ve got three left in my gun and then whatever’s in yours.” He was gritting his teeth, glancing over his shoulder as you heard more people coming outside to see what was going on. “You’re gonna see some H...people die.” Hosts, not people. “Take a breath, and we’re gonna go back out there.” Logan paused and you inhaled deeply, looking back at him. “You started it, now let’s finish it.” With a nod, you closed your eyes, standing quickly, gun pointed back at the group of bandits, three of them still standing in front of the bank. Did I shoot a horse? Oops. We got one though. 

 “There you are.” The leader was grinning - leering, really, at you and you rolled your eyes as you advanced on him. “Thought you disappeared on me.” He looked you over, and even in the moonlight you could see his eyes glinting. “I don’t wanna shoot you, woman.” He paused, holding a hand up to the man behind him. “There are plenty of other things…” Absolutely not. You tightened your finger on the trigger again. Pull. You’re aiming, pull. 

“Quit pointing that gun at her!” What the fuck? You turned your head at the sound of a new voice. Goddammit, Grant. Leave me alone. Grant was standing on the steps of the Coronado,  his huge gun drawn and held clumsily in both hands, pointed at the man you were also targeting. His goddamn hands are shaking. “Put it away.” The bandit laughed, eyes going from you to Grant. “I’m warning you, I’ll -” 

 “No, you won’t.” The bandit spoke, pulling his trigger, and before you could even get a shot off in return, you felt a stinging pain in the center of your chest, forcing you to your knees immediately. Ow. But you didn’t drop the gun, instead raising it back at the man that had just shot you and squeezing the trigger at the same time Logan fired his gun three times in quick succession, the remaining men dropping to the ground. Fuck, that hurts. Logan’s gun clattered from your fingers to the ground as you raised your hand to your chest, holding it against the spot where you’d been shot and fighting for breath. He wasn’t joking. 

 “Breathe.” Logan was on a knee next to you, one hand on your shoulder, the other pressed flat against the one you were holding against your skin. “Push on it and take a deep breath. You’re alright.” You did as he told you, aware of the fact that Grant and your other coworkers were moving away from the hotel and onto the street, toward where you were kneeling. “Told you it hurt.” His fingers tightening on your shoulder, you managed to look into his eyes, still breathing deeply. 

 “Did I get him?” Hope so.  Logan smiled at you, nodding. 

 “Think we both did.” You waited for Logan to remove his hand, but he didn’t, instead separating his fingers just enough to begin linking them with yours, the tips brushing against the skin of your chest and sending heat radiating through the lingering pain. That’s interesting. You stared at Logan’s face, trying to concentrate, and found that you couldn’t. “Are you-”

 “What were you doing?!” Grant’s voice cut in as the man made it to your side, standing with his feat spread. “You could have gotten killed, they all had guns, and -” He paused, seemingly noticing Logan for the first time, hands still firmly on you. “Who the fuck is -” 

 “No, Grant.” You tore your eyes away from Logan’s, looking up at the man that was standing next to you. “I couldn’t have died, you asshole.” Grant blinked down at you, still holding onto his unfired gun. Some good that thing did.

 “Yes, you could have, you were right in the line of -” Oh, shut the hell up. It’s not real. Without thinking, you reached down, picking Logan’s gun back up and standing quickly, the weapon aimed at Grant’s stomach before you’d even had time to think. Logan stayed crouched on the ground, but you saw his lips twitch as you rose, his hand brushing against your palm as it fell from your shoulder. 

 “I had it covered. We had it covered, and then you fucking ruined everything, distracted me and let me get shot, you asshole. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You were angry - at Grant for cheating, at Grant for still trying to act like there was nothing wrong, at Grant for ruining the only fun you’d likely have in Westworld - and you didn’t stop to filter your words. “I knew what I was doing, and Logan and I were -” You shook your head, watching as Grant rolled his eyes. “Can’t die here, Grant. Remember?” Grant sighed, shifting. You’re an idiot. 

 “It felt like you could have, and I wouldn’t have wanted anything to happ-” You pulled the trigger before you realized it was happening, the gun recoiling in your hand, and you heard Grant’s scream, his gun firing straight into the ground as his finger jerked against the trigger and he doubled over, clutching at his abdomen. “You shot me, you bitch!” Grant howled in pain, and you heard Amy gasp from behind you, along with a surprised snicker that Logan quickly turned into a cough. 

 “How’d that feel, Grant?” You stepped closer, the gun back down at your side. “Be glad I didn’t aim lower.” You felt better immediately - not because you’d shot the man you once thought you’d loved, but because you’d taken a bullet with more grace than he had, taken out a Host without pause and you’d managed to remind him that Westworld was a game that needed to be played properly in order to truly enjoy it. “How’s it feel to freeze when it matters most?” You shook your head, rolling your eyes again. “Didn’t want me to get hurt, yet you let me get shot… makes no sense. Thanks for nothing.” Absolutely nothing. You looked down at your hand, gun still held loosely in it and then over at Logan, who had shifted onto one knee as he stowed his own gun, the other foot planted on the ground while he stared up at you, hair in his eyes and a satisfied smile on his face.“I’m not doing whatever bullshit bounty hunt we were assigned, Grant. You can go on your own tomorrow, but it’s not happening with me.” Grant looked up at you, eyes glistening with angry tears. Oh my God, really? “Can’t trust you to have my back when I need it most.” 

 You turned away from him and back toward Logan, falling silent. Here goes nothing. “Logan, you said earlier you wanted to show me around for my first time here.” He nodded, one eyebrow raised. “That still an offer?” Logan rose to his feet, reaching out to you for his gun, and you handed it over without hesitation, your fingers meeting his for a moment. 

 “Yes.” He stepped closer, tucking the gun back into the free holster before reaching out with his hand, resting it on your hip. “There’s a lot you should see.” His eyes seemed darker than they had been before, and you inched closer to him, feeling yourself smile. “And a lot you should… do.” He moved the hand from your hip to twine his fingers with yours, pulling gently in the direction of the hotel. You heard Grant calling your name from behind you and ignored it, instead focusing on the feeling of Logan’s hand in yours as you walked, the way his shoulder felt as it bumped gently into yours. “Startin’ with me.” Oh, really? 

 By the time you made it back to the steps up onto the porch of the Coronado, Logan had removed his hand from yours, instead draping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Logan,” you said as you eyed the men and women - Hosts and Guests alike that were eyeing the two of you with interest, their main focus on Logan. “You... I think you could proposition any one of these people and -” 

 “I know.” He stopped walking, turning toward you as his arm moved from your shoulder, fingers grazing your cheek. “But I’ve had most of ‘em before.” He winked. “The Hosts anyway.” You laughed, appreciating his honesty. Figures. “Don’t want that now, though.” He leaned in, lips finding the skin just beneath your eye. “Want somethin’ real.” You reached up, touching the side of his face before you moved your hand back and into the hair behind his ear, turning his head so that you could kiss him, adrenaline still pumping through your body. You want real, Logan? You got it. 

---

[something-tofightfor]

Remember What You Told Me (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 5400

Rating: M (Language, mention of sex, mentions of substance abuse/drinking)

Author’s Note: This is the continuation to Here Comes the Sun (find it on my master list).... so you’ll need to read that before diving into this one. I wanted to keep giving Logan as much happiness as possible... and everyone seemed to want me to work on Logan today, soooooo  

Summary: After meeting in the Bahamas, you and Logan continue your relationship after you move to California for work... and it leads to a *very* interesting morning in Vegas. 

Tag List: @banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @padfootagain @madamrogersstorytelling @suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @drinix @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @shinebrightlikeafanbase @littlemermaidprobz @jovialyouthmusic @zaffrenotes @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz@dylanobrusso @luminex3 @malik-payne @lexxierave @lynne1993 @elanor-of-imladris @bucky-is-my-precious @traeumerinwitzhelden @mfackenthal @weallhaveadestiny @ladyblablabla @sweetybuzz25 @dreamwritesimagines @thesumofmychoices @audreychaz @tc-elliot @dreams-with-thoughts @kind-wolf @ms-delos @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @benbarnestongue @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @captainblackeyes @hanoi15

Your head was pounding, and the thought of opening your eyes made you groan. How much did I drink last night? You swallowed hard, rolling onto your back and bringing your left hand up to your face. Oh my God, I need water. As the back of your hand made contact with your skin, you winced as you felt something sharp bite into your eyelid. What? Frowning, you opened your eyes a crack, seeing that the room was still semi-dark. Closed the blinds at least. But then you opened your eyes wider, still squinting, hand raised a few inches from your face. With a hiss, your eyes flew all the way open and the pounding in your head disappeared as you saw your hand.

 There, on the third finger of your left hand was a ring which contained the largest diamond you’d ever seen on a shining band inlaid with smaller stones. The problem was that you’d never seen it before, and you didn’t know why you were wearing it.

Bringing your hand closer to your face, you reached up with your right index finger, touching the largest diamond and pushing against it slightly with a fingertip.

 As it moved you gasped, sitting straight up and clutching the sheet to your bare chest with your left hand. It’s real. Did we… Turning your head to the right, you felt your heart pounding against your ribs. Please, oh God, please. He was sleeping on his stomach next to you, the upper half of his body visible, his skin contrasting with the darkness of his hair. You reached out with your hand, hesitating before you laid a hand on him, between his shoulder blades, running it sideways and over toward his far shoulder, squeezing gently. “Lo.” You spoke, but the words were a whisper, and you shut your eyes, taking a deep breath and swallowing. “Logan, you need to wake up.” He groaned, shifting in the bed and you cleared your throat. “Logan, c’mon. I need you to wake up.”

 There was a pause, and Logan shifted again in the bed, bringing his left arm out from under the pillow. Your eyes immediately went to his hand, and you felt a sense of simultaneous relief and terror as you saw that there was no ring on his third finger. Oh holy fuck. He groaned, your name the first thing to leave his lips. You slid your hand over to the center of his back and flattened it, leaning over to kiss the back of his head, your lips getting lost in the soft strands of his sleep-mussed hair, despite your heart beating wildly in your chest. “How much did we drink last night, my head’s killing me.” He sighed as your lips moved, hovering over his ear. “Feels good, keep doin’ that.” No, Logan. I need you to…

 “Logan, please. Open your eyes. Look at me.” He paused and then rolled over onto his back, using his left hand to cover his eyes in the same way you had, the ends of his long fingers rubbing at them.

 “What’s wrong? Where are we?” You wanted to laugh, but instead, felt tears beginning to run down your cheeks as you brought your knees to your chest beneath the blanket, arms up and hands covering your face as you sobbed. “Why are you crying?” You shook your head, and Logan finally pulled his hand away from his face, looking up at you. “Hey, come on.” He reached up with his left hand toward you and though your eyes were filled with tears, you watched as his widened too, his hand pausing just before it touched you. “What… what’s that on your… where did you get that?”

You laughed bitterly, the sound cutting through the silence of the room and held your own hand up, fingers spread apart. “I have no idea, Logan.”

---

 24 hours prior

 “What are we doing for your birthday, Delos?” You were lounging on a chaise on Logan’s back deck, one knee bent and a hand behind your head. “It’s a big one, 36 years old. You’re officially over the hill.” He groaned, falling gracefully onto the chair next to yours and turning his head to look at you. “What, it’s the truth!”

 “Just because you’re five years younger than me for the next few months, it doesn’t give you the right to make old man jokes.” He was pouting, and you couldn’t help but laugh, leaning over to kiss him on the mouth. “You weren’t making those jokes last night or this morning.” I was definitely not. “You still gonna want to kiss me tomorrow when I’m old and gray?” You kissed him again, your arm crossing the space between the chairs to touch his face as your tongue moved against his lower lip.

 “I’m always going to want to kiss you, Logan, remember? Whenever you’ll let me… besides, you can dye your hair dark if you start to go gray. You’re rich.” You smiled as you pulled back from him, settling back onto your chair, but this time on your side so that you could look at him, watching as he snickered at your comment. “I’m serious, though, what are we going to do for your birthday? We went to Juliet and Mark’s last year, but…” You trailed off, waiting. This was the second birthday you’d be spending with Logan, and though the two of you had known each other for a little under two years, you’d only been together for just over a year and a half.

 ---

 A chance meeting in the Bahamas had brought you together in the first place, but after four days stuck in The Cove, you and Logan had been… well, close wasn’t the correct word. Connected was a better one, because after the first night - when you’d ended up in bed together after a few hours of drinking games and an almost misadventure onto his balcony, the next few days had gone by very quickly.

 You hadn’t been alone together after that first night, opting the next afternoon to walk down the stairs and to the main level of the hotel -  and after finding The Cove almost deserted, hurrying through the pouring rain and wind over to the main building, where there was ample space, a generator, and absolutely no privacy. Even though this had been the case, you and Logan had learned more about each other as you wandered the hallways, watching the storm from ground level through the windows, Logan nearly always next to you and touching you in some way.

 You’d slept together in one of the ballrooms, sometimes sitting between his legs as he slumped against a wall and you against him, other times on the hard floor or a flimsy mattress, his lips finding your skin as you drifted off for short periods of time with his arms around you as if letting you go would ruin his day. Though you knew very little about him outside of what he told you, the man that you were with was a very different one than you’d discovered online, and you tried to take every moment as it came, enjoying the time you had to spend with the handsome and charismatic man beside you. When the power came back on late the third day, everyone cheered, and you spent long hours with the other guests waiting for a turn to use the land lines since cell service was still out, calling to let loved ones know where you were and that you were OK.

 The fourth day, after the storm had completely passed and the clean-up effort was beginning at the resort, Logan settled the bill with the hotel (he was right, and they’d comped him after he’d promised to mention them positively in an official Delos press release), rode the elevator back up with you to get your bag from your locked room, and dragged you into one of the boutiques for new outfits before the two of you took a taxi across the bridge and back to the mainland. The airport wasn’t quite swamped with travelers, but it had taken you over an hour to book a flight back home - and by the time you were ready to pass through the security checkpoint, you were exhausted.

 Logan was standing next to you, but when you motioned for him to walk through with you, he shook his head, a small frown on his lips. “What, didn’t you get a flight back yet?” He sighed, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair and then over his chin, which was covered in a thick beard since he hadn’t had access to a razor in days.

 “I was supposed to be home four days ago, and apparently the Delos board is very… impatient with me.” He shrugged his shoulders. “They’re sending our jet to get me, and I have paperwork I need to go over and a conference call that apparently can’t wait another minute.” Oh. “My father was… worried about me, and…” Logan shook his head, swearing under his breath. “I’m not used to that, and halfway think it’s just to save face, but…” He shrugged again. “So I have to get another car and go to the private airfield, and…” He trailed off. “This is goodbye.” He smiled, but it was tight-lipped and Logan stepped forward again, his hand going up to your shoulder. “These past four days have been…” He sighed. “A few years ago, I wouldn’t have said that I deserved them, but now I’m starting to think that maybe I really do deserve some good things like you in my life.”

 “It was nice meeting you, Logan.” You licked your lips, offering him a smile and holding out your hand, though you hoped he wouldn’t take it. “Thank you again for giving me a place to -” You were cut off as he stepped forward, his arms going around you and his head ducking down as he kissed you - hard. It was different from the kisses in the hotel room and the lobby, different from the way he’d touched you previously. Logan was saying goodbye to you in his way, and you had to accept it for what it was. When he broke the kiss, he didn’t pull away, instead nudging your face to the side with his nose, lips close to your ear.

 “What’s your phone number?” He spoke in a quiet voice as his hands tightened on you, fingers massaging the skin of your back, bare in the sundress you wore, again courtesy of him. “Gimmie your number so that we can keep in touch.” You hadn’t expected him to ask - hadn’t expected it to be more than a few days of fun with him - the CEO of one of world’s largest and most successful tech companies, and yet you’d recited the number for him, watching as he entered it into his phone. “I’ll get in touch with you, I promise.” Nodding, you kissed him one final time, trying to memorize the way he tasted and squeezing his hand as you turned toward the gate and away from him nearly five days after you’d met him.

 But you hadn’t heard from Logan for the first week after you returned home and as the days passed, you became less and less certain that you ever would. Logan might have been different with you on the island, but maybe it wasn’t the truth, maybe it was just a product of your circumstances. So you’d gone about your life as usual, getting back to work and finalizing the details of your transfer to California, which would take place the week after Thanksgiving, giving you just under a month and a half left in the midwest. Three weeks after your trip to the Bahamas - and one week before the wedding you’d traveled to celebrate, you caught a news story about Delos as you packed your apartment, your eyes immediately going to the TV screen as you saw a picture of Logan’s face, followed by a video clip of him speaking at an event.

 Heart pounding, you’d watched him talk - going on about the new direction that Delos would be taking in the coming years, the efforts they were going to make to increase their global presence, the ways that they’d be improving their technology. The clip that followed it showed Logan at the same event, on the arm of a redhead in a dark gray dress, his hand low on her back. So that’s why he didn’t call. With a sigh, you shook your head, turning the TV off and returning to your boxes. He didn’t give you his number for a reason, just wanted to give you hope that those days weren’t for nothing. Though Logan seemed to have changed in terms of his prior behaviors and his image when it came to Delos, it appeared that he hadn’t been above another fling - and you’d been the unfortunate (but entirely willing) victim.

 A week later, your phone rang as you were on your laptop, finalizing the details for the moving truck and you answered it without thinking. “Did you move yet?” He didn’t bother with a greeting, and your eyes flew all the way open, gripping your phone tighter. Logan? “It’s… Logan. Logan Delos. We met in the Bahamas.” How could I forget?

 “Hi, Logan.” You sighed, shaking your head. “No, I didn’t move yet.” He took a breath on the other end, and you spoke quickly. “I didn’t think you were going to call, Logan, I saw you on TV at that event last week with that woman, and figured -”

 “Yeah, she’s a friend of my sister Juliet’s.” He spoke quickly. “We go to Delos events together all the time, she’s my stand in when I don’t want to find a date or worry about being seen with someone that will cause a scene.” He laughed. “We’ve been going to functions together for years.” Your heart lightened slightly, but before you could speak, Logan did again. “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, that extended vacation really put a kink into a bunch of shit, and we had to sort it all out.” He groaned. “I’ve barely had time to sleep, I’ve been working fourteen or fifteen hour days.”

 “That’s what happens when you’re the boss, right?” He laughed, agreeing. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Logan, it’s fine. We got caught in a hurricane together, that warranted those few days… nothing more.”

 “What, you don’t want to see me again?” He sounded curious, the laughter gone. “I was calling to see if you were out here yet, you never said when you were moving… or where to, and…”

 “I’ll be in Long Beach, Logan. Week after Thanksgiving.” He groaned. “Why?”

 “That’s an hour from me. But you still didn’t answer me - do you want to see me again?” There was concern in his voice along with the curiosity. “I thought that…”

 “Of course I do, Logan.” It slipped out before you could stop yourself, and you flinched. Idiot. “I just didn’t think you…”

 “Let me know when you’re coming in, where you’re staying.” He sighed. “I’ll send over a housewarming present.” He took a deep breath. “I really am sorry. I should have texted, but I was really busy, and I didn’t know what to say. ‘Hey, it’s Logan, remember when we hooked up in that storm and then spent three days sleeping in a room with fifty other people?’ I’ve used a lot of pick up lines, but that’d be a new one for me.” Finally feeling more at ease with him, the conversation continued long into the night, packing forgotten.

 ---

Over the following three weeks, you and Logan stayed in contact, sending messages back and forth, talking every few days, and true to his word, when you’d arrived at your apartment in Long Beach, there had been Logan’s version of a housewarming present waiting: a brand new Delos Home Integration System - already set up. You’d called as soon as you entered the condo, hearing a chirp along with a friendly female voice welcoming you home - by name. The fuck is this?

 “It learns you, works with the electrical system and the network. Learns your habits and your routine.” Logan sounded proud. “Landlord let us in to install it before they changed the locks for you. Let me come over and show you how it works?” Oh, Logan. But you’d agreed, and he’d stopped over the following day, bottle of Bahamian rum in his hands, and had spent two hours walking you through the use of the system - something he’d had a hand in designing.

 “Replaced all of the lightbulbs with Delos Intelligent Bulbs, you’ve got surround sound that will hook up into the TV, there’s a unit in each room, and they’re all speakers and microphones…” Logan pointed out the larger units in both bedrooms, the kitchen and living room, and the smaller ones in the bathroom, basement and outside on the balcony. “You can ask them to do anything - tell you the weather, get you directions, control the temperature, look up information, play music… you can even connect the system to your phone and make and take calls through it.”

 “Jesus, Logan, normal people give a bottle of wine or some coasters as a housewarming gift, this thing has to be worth…”

 “Thousands.” He shrugged. “We’re still working on them, trying to perfect the whole thing, and you’re testing it out for us, any errors automatically get sent back to our servers.” He grinned, one hand running over his neatly trimmed beard. “Really, you’re doing Delos a favor. Also, I brought you a bottle of rum too, so…” You smacked him on the arm playfully and he caught your hand, pulling you close. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I wanted to.” He’s trying to make up for it. His hand tightened on your arm, and you shook your head.

 “It’s fine, Logan.” You watched as his tongue came out, wetting his lips. “Thank you.” You looked around, imagining what the place was going to look like when all of your stuff was unpacked. “It’s a great start. I’ll think of you every time I use it.”

 “That’s what I was going for,” he smirked as he leaned in, lips finding your cheek. “Coulda given it my voice, I recorded for it as the male voice option, since a few women have told me my voice is something else, but I thought that would be creepy.” Instead of pushing him away you turned your head, lips meeting his briefly. “Oh?” He pulled back, one eyebrow raised. “You gonna kiss me every time I bring you a highly experimental and expensive piece of technology that’s got my name on it?” Instead of answering, you just shook your head back and forth, rising onto your toes and nipping at his lower lip. Why be coy about it?

 “I’ll kiss you as often as you’ll let me, Logan Delos.”

 ---

He looked at you silently from his own chair, a smile on his lips as he thought. “We could go to Vegas?” He sounded hopeful, and you inhaled. “We haven’t been on vacation since we went to Napa for Christmas last year, it would be fun.” You frowned, sitting up and crossing your legs on the chair. “We can take the jet?” You knew that he was serious when he mentioned the Delos jet, and cocked your head to the side.

 “You want to go to Vegas for your birthday, Lo?” He nodded, sitting up. “Alright. I’ll need to go pack, but-”

 “What, you mean go into our room that’s five feet away and throw some stuff into an overnight bag?” He leaned forward, his hand on your knee. “Sometimes I think you forget that you live with me now.” He’s not wrong. “I’ll call and charter the jet, will you pack a bag for me, too?” You nodded, smiling at him.

 “Hey, Logan?” You waited until he stood, one hand on the glass door leading back inside to speak. When he turned around to look at you, you took a breath. “I didn’t get you anything yet. I had to order your gift, and it’s not here -”

 “You did, though.” He smiled, but it was a soft one, one that was almost embarrassed. “You moved in with me, and … that’s enough of a gift.” You felt your face turning red and ducked your head, hearing him clear his throat as he walked into the house, leaving you to look at the ocean in silence. Moving in with Logan had seemed like a logical step to you, but you’d been shocked when he had asked - almost as shocked when he’d invited you to the Delos Christmas party less than a month after you moved to California, or out for dinner on Valentine’s Day a few weeks later, but you hadn’t been as surprised by any of that as you had been when Logan offered you a position at Delos - working with Juliet - one that you couldn’t turn down.  

 During those first few months, you and Logan had gotten to know each other better, going out together, spending time at each other’s houses...and you’d gotten to know the real Logan, the man that he’d worked his entire life to be, yet was afraid to show the world. There’d been some hiccups, of course - paparazzi taking pictures of the two of you while you were out, digging up information about you and your past, using the terms “fling” and “flavor of the month” and “gold digger” in headlines, speculating on and recapping Logan’s earlier years - but he’d let you know every day that none of them were true and that he was a different person than he had been. In fact, up until the moment that Logan had said he wanted to be with you, he hadn’t tried to take you to bed again, had actually stopped your advances on him. “I’m not that guy anymore. You’re not… that to me. I’m gonna show you I’m serious.” You hadn’t seen the issue with being with him since you’d been together in the Bahamas, but you respected Logan and what he was trying to do  - it was more for him than for you, and after everything he’d been through, you couldn’t take that away from him.

 A year after making things official, Logan offered you the position at Delos. It was basically the same job you’d been doing previously, but the pay was much better, and it meant that you’d no longer be living almost an hour away from him. That had caused an argument, with you not wanting to be seen as someone trying to make a name for themselves off of the Delos name or off of Logan’s status and your relationship with him, but he’d laughed, telling you that Juliet and her department had been talking about you almost non-stop, that if he hadn’t reached out, she would have… and so you’d accepted.

 You’d stayed with him while looking for a place closer to the Delos compound in Thousand Oaks, but after a month of searching, Logan finally sat you down, taking your hands in his and taking a deep breath as his thumbs moved over the backs of your hands. “You should just move in here with me.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head back and forth. “I want you to move in here, I like having you here with me.” Your eyes widened, but he continued. “You’ve dealt with a lot because of me, and it hasn’t phased you one bit. I want you around all the time.” He was being honest with you, and you heard in his voice what it would mean to him to have you there… so you’d agreed to that, too.

 As you moved through the bedroom you shared, picking out clothes and folding them carefully into an overnight bag for each of you, you hummed under your breath, smiling. His birthday in Vegas. Oh, Logan. Things were going well for the two of you, your job was perfect, and you loved him. Hearing those words from Logan’s mouth for the first time had felt like all of the air had been sucked from your lungs - like it was just the two of you in the world, and there was nothing that could ever compare to it, though each subsequent time he said it, there was no lessening of the impact, no change in the way that it made you feel - that he made you feel.

 ---

 You were on the beach, laying on your stomach in a black bikini while Logan lounged next to you, laying on his back with his eyes closed. Though the water was still too cold to swim, you and Logan were taking advantage of a few nice days, where the temperature had hovered in the 80’s and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. Coming up on your year anniversary, you and Logan were getting along well. This was despite the fact that there were still times when you ran into reminders of his past, women that he’d been with, pictures of him at his lowest, anniversaries of things like his trip to Westworld with William, or the day he’d overdosed and had to be rushed to the hospital … but you’d gotten through all of it. “The first year will be the hardest, Logan,” you’d said to him, holding him and stroking your fingers over his arms. “It’s not the first year for you, but it’s the first year with me here with you… you’re not alone anymore, Logan, and we’ll get through it. Together.”

 He’d tried to keep a positive outlook, but had jumped at the chance to get back outdoors once the weather changed, responding to your suggestion for an early season beach day with so much enthusiasm it was like he was a kid again. The sound of the waves and the seagulls were lulling you to sleep, and by the soft breathing of Logan next to you, you knew he was already almost gone - more relaxed than you’d seen him in weeks. Scooting closer to him, you kissed him on his bare shoulder, watching as a smile tugged on his lips. “What are you doin’?” He questioned you sleepily, turning his head to face you and opening his eyes. “I was dreaming about you.” The bridge of his nose was red and his cheeks were too, the sun’s rays doing their work, and you smiled at Logan, leaning down to kiss him properly as you pushed his hair away from his face. He hummed against your lips, and when you pulled away, his hand rose, fingers combing through your windblown hair. “But then I woke up an’ you were here anyway, so it’s even better.”

 “Oh, Logan.” You pressed your lips together, propping yourself up on one elbow as he turned onto his side, his hand moving down your body and settling on your hip, the index finger sliding beneath the strap of your suit bottoms. “You - “

 He smiled at you, fingers curling against your hip. “You know I love you, right?” The words hit you like a bolt of lightning, and your jaw dropped. “I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell you, but…” He locked eyes with you, suddenly wide awake. “I love you.” You were dumbfounded, unable to speak to him, but sure that if you didn’t say anything, everything would be ruined. Say it back. You know you want to.

 “I… Logan, I love you too.” He let his breath out in a whoosh, leaning in to kiss you, his lips trailing over your throat’s sun-kissed skin after leaving your mouth, and he whispered the words to you again under his breath. “So much, Logan.”

 Just under two months later, he’d offered you the job, and a month after that, you’d moved in with Logan...and the rumors and gossip had returned in full force.

---

 12 hours prior

 Logan watched as you finished pinning your hair onto the top of your head, your arms bent at the elbow, fingers gracefully moving through the long strands. Damn. Never seen that dress before. He stepped closer, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other moving through his own hair. You watched him in the mirror, eyes following his movements as he stopped behind you, and Logan removed the hand from his pocket, curling his right arm around your waist and pulling you back against him. “You look amazing.” He whispered the words into your ear before settling his lips on the skin of your neck, sucking gently. “I’m the luckiest guy in this city.” You laughed, your body shaking against his, and Logan tightened his hold on you.

 “What are we doing tonight, Delos?” You turned your head, your hands dropping to rest against his forearm, and Logan grinned. “I know that look.”

 “What?” He smirked at you, using his free hand to turn you so that you were facing him before lowering his hands back to your waist, fingers tightening against your hips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You rolled your eyes at him, and Logan couldn’t help but lean in and kiss you again, grip tightening on you. Your arms moved so that they were around his neck, and Logan stepped forward, pushing your back against the mirror. You sighed into his mouth, fingers moving against his scalp and Logan groaned, lowering his hands further, his own fingertips finding the bare skin of your thighs much sooner than he’d thought. “You really gonna go out in this?” He nearly growled the words, feigning anger. “This dress is almost indecent, and -”

 “That’s why I picked it, Logan.” You tightened your fingers in his hair, speaking only after barely pulling your mouth away from his. “Wanted to give you something nice to look at on your birthday.” He laughed, bunching the fabric of the dress up around your waist and returning his fingers to your bare skin, squeezing as he urged your hips closer to his.

 “Me looking isn’t the problem, darlin’.” He lowered his mouth, teeth grazing your shoulder and was rewarded with a sigh from you, your hand gripping his arm tightly. “It’s all those other people I’m worried about.” You pulled his hair hard, breaking him out of his thoughts and he straightened back up, looking at you - but not letting go. “What was that for?”

 “They always, look, Lo.” You were still smiling, but he hated the look in your eyes, hated the truth in your words. “Even before I knew you, they were watching you… and now they’re watching me, too.” You shrugged, and Logan finally loosened his grip, your dress falling back into place as he brought a hand up to your face, fingers barely touching your cheek. “Let ‘em look, Logan. I don’t care about them, and you shouldn’t either.” He knew what you were trying to do - he’d had his fair share of unpleasant media attention, though the past few years had been much better - but he still got lost sometimes, especially when people dredged up his past, was still worried that even though Delos was his and William was long gone, something was going to happen to destroy everything he’d worked for, taking everything from him in one fell swoop - including you.

 “Fine.” He grinned, watching as your eyes darkened at the expression on his face, lips parting as you sucked in a breath. “Fine, let ‘em look.” He lowered his head again, breath hot against your cheek and he felt you shiver as he spoke. “But I’m the only one that gets to touch.” You agreed with him, voice low, and as Logan kissed you again, one hand cupping your cheek, he brought the other to his pants pocket, fingers tracing the outline of the small box inside of it. Forever.

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