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buckysmith · 1 year

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He gets drunk

Includes: Alejandro, Grave, Ghost and Soap

Warning: Adult stuff, mention of alcohol use, 18+ stuff but not to heavy

(Has nothing to do with the headcanons I just love that song and listened to it while writing )

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Alejandro: (not my gift)

- he is actually a man who can stand a lot of alcohol

- he doesn't really like drinking games, but if Rudy challenges him, he's not the one to shy away from it

- as I said, he can stand a lot of the devils liquor but holy hell after an amount of it that could possibly kill any other human he’s not the stoic thinking Alejandro Vargas.

- He knows he’s a good locking man so it’s not unusual that some chicas or chicos flirts with him

- some of his team would call you in situations like that, not because he’s a cheater no. They would call you to pick him up because he gets whiny and grumpy about that your not here with him

- ofc you would pick your love sick husband up but to be honest, after one whole bottle of Mezcal he’s fucked up (just to remember you that would most possible kill any other person) and wouldn’t really recognize you

- at first he would tell you to go away cause he’s in a relationship

- when you want to take him with you he gets angry, telling you to fuck off cause he has the most beautiful, loving, kind hearted and attractive S/O in the whole world

- you would giggle about it, telling you your his s/o

- he would try to recognize your face but because of the darkness and way to much alcohol he just couldn’t

- but he would recognize your scent

- yeah, good luck going home after he recognized you

- cough instead horny cough

- anyways, even though he’s fucked up your night wouldn’t end quickly after you got him home

- oh and even in this state your his top priority ;)

(I’m sorry but I think drunk as fuck he would dance/ sing to that song Vamos a la Playa)

Graves: (not my gift)

- He hates drinking games more than anything else

- but if someone challenges him he can’t say no, his ego ist waaaay to big for that

- after a good amount of alcohol he would call you to take him home

- he knows he’s an attractive man so from time to time people would hit at him but he would causally show his wedding ring (he doesn’t even want to look at the people that want him)

- he knows he can’t drive and he doesn’t want to take an Uber (it’s just not safe as someone like him) so he would wait for you

- he would wait till you show up with another drink in his hand

- he’s not quite talkative on your way home, but he would lay his hand on your thigh, murmur a lot of sweet nothings and a lot of dirty things

- after you both got home he would ask you to take his clothes off

- cough alcohol makes him horny and you do too cough

Soap: (not my gift)

- he likes the taste of scotch that sharp, distinct flavor is what he likes about it

- The few times he has with his whole team are most likely to have a serious matter but the rare times when they can sit in a bar drinking with each other and don’t have to worry to get killed end most of the time with a drinking game

- he isn’t as good with alcohol as ghost or price but he would definitely try to win that stupid drinking game

- price would be the one that calls you

- soap would only sit in some corner, with a picture of you in his hand whining that he wants you to be here with you (he’s love sick)

- the moment you’re in front of him, kneeling between his legs and gently touching his cheeks would end with you back first in the wooden floor

- Ghost would definitely take pics/ videos of you too, most likely to tease soap after he’s sober

- You would take your big boy home

- he’s more on the cuddle side

- he wants you to touch him, to tell him sweet nothings and praise him

Ghost: (not my gift)

- no matter how much he drinks, he isn’t able to get drunk

- fr this man can drink stuff that could kill any other human and he’s still fucking sober (at least he seems to)

- But even though he isn’t the usual drunk man, he gets homesick or better he wants to go home to you

- he knows even though he’s still able to put one and one to two he’s not gonna drive home so he would call you

- he’s a ghost, the others wouldn’t notice that he disappeared (at least they would notice when he’s already over the hills)

- love sick puppy

- he had it rough and in times like that he needs you more than anything

- he’s quite emotional when he’s drunk, it’s most likely the only time he’s able to cry and to let out his feelings

- Cuddle with him, praise him, pet him, take care of him, you’re the one he needs the most

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journen · 10 months

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(Brainrot)Cosplay crossover!! Lol. Because the Codywan to Soapghost pipeline is real.

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saucywendeee · 1 year

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👻�� - Fantasy AU Dark Mage/Prince

#always gotta add fantasy to my ships ;)))#ghost is a dark mage that is also an eldritch being #soap is an adventurous prince #ghost saves soap by accident but soap persists that ghost becomes his personal knight #it wouldn't have to do with the fact that soap felt love at first sight or anything like that no no no #ghost may or may not have to be his personal knight because the knight commander price who he's loyal to told him to #and since knight commander price is in charge of protecting the royal family he may have heard prince soap constantly raving about someone #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #john soap mactavish #John Mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #MW2 #mw2 soap #cod #cod mw2 #fantasy au #fanart #my art #fantasy #digital art #art #digital illustration #illustration

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captain-mj · 13 days

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Werewolf Price being hit with pheromones and they expect him to go feral or be evil but really he just herds everyone up and bumps heads with Ghost and grooms Gaz and fucks Graves until he can’t take it anymore safely outside of the sights of everyone else

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare ii #johnny soap mactavish #cod #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #soapghost #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #phillip graves #commander phillip graves #pricegraves #gravesprice #price x graves #graves x price

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padawansuggest · 9 months

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Obi-Wan in his natural habitat in the temple sleeps in a loft bed (it was supposed to be storage he said cat instinct and turned it into a loft bed they’re shockingly common with Jedi tbh tho) and under 17 fluffy blankets with a pregnancy pillow (he’s not pregnant he just can’t sleep off his stomach if he don’t got one and sometimes autism requires squishing to keep it all down) and three more fluffy blankets on top of him. He has an optional Padawan or pet (not really a pet, just whomever followed him how from the gardens today) in bed with him also. And he’s got a projector on the wall and has a night stand with water and gaming devices so he can survive up there forever.

The clones, who have learned to sleep with full kute coverings and usually without blankets or pillows cause they just pass out on each other, most of whom identified with their Jedi for having similar sleeping types if they weren’t human, realize they are quite horrified by his Stewjoni nesting instinct. And he’s offended and refuses to sleep with any of them till they apologize to his favorite stuffed animal for insulting his HOUSE. Fuck you bitches he and Master Sparkle Bantha deserve better.

Cody is groveling while Alpha is still trying to negotiate a less intense number of blankets and Anakin is just shaking his head like ‘it’s not worth it Bro’ and Alpha is like ‘shut up ur an omega too you brat’ and that’s the last straw, you called them omegas now Cody is asking what an omega is and Alpha is trying to figure out how to keep his AO3 account hidden from his vod’e and nvm he’ll sleep in the barracks forever-

Obi-Wan holds this info over his head like a guillotine and convinced him to get in the damn nest right this second and cuddle him better.

If you don’t sleep with at least two comforters and a queen sized fuzzy blanket then I don’t trust you. Yes I refuse to trust my sister and wife okay. Everything in the world has a downside and that’s theirs. My bed is half dragon hoard of yarn and squishmallows. I’m not changing for anyone.

Anakin’s bed is 90% pillow and squishmallow and 10% blanket. Padme uses a thin cotton blanket and lets him burrito wrap himself and uses him like a body pillow while he’s captive in the blankies.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #commander cody #alpha 17 #codywan #alphaobi #anakin skywalker #anidala #alpha got an obsession with soap operas and now he writes fics for them #no he’s not giving anyone his account info #Ahsoka sleeps in a puppy pile of padawans and vod’e tho she fits right in #aayla and Bly sleep on the same bed with completely different comforters and rarely cuddle if ever lmao #luminara is actually prego and using a maternity pillow for normal reasons #gree sleeps on his back snoring like a chainsaw but also an uncaring teenager on his chest the whole time lol Barriss sleeps like a toddler #which means a mixture of starfishing and octopus limbs #clone empire #post clone wars

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your-local-jedi-commander · 1 month

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CoD X reader y/n incorrect quotes!!! pt. 4

Another day, another quote dumping from the incorrect quotes gurl!

Y/n: I can’t believe we’re locked in this room together

Soap, throwing the keys out of the window: so unfortunate…

Y/n: are we dating?

Graves, spitting out his coffee: w-what?! No-

Y/n: you called me baby and sunshine this morning

Graves, nervously laughing: I call everyone that

Y/n:

Graves:

A shadow, tearing up: you never call me that…

Ghost: have you seen my will to live? It has to be somewhere there…

Gaz, pointing at Y/n: FOUND ‘EM!

Y/n, yelling: Babe, could you open this for me?

Soap, walking into the kitchen: what is it?

Soap: aww you need my help for everything, you would be so helpless without me… *opens the coke bottle, bottle explodes*

Graves: *tactical sign language*

Y/n, with an innocent smile (doesn’t know shit about what he wants): *forms a heart in reply*

Lmao sry these aren’t my best ones so far… idk how long I can keep this up <33

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saintship · 4 months

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Can i have a prompt #17 with Graves and a tm reader with a lik spice on the side?

Prompt #17 - “Don’t doubt yourself.”

My fics have been a little LAZY recently so this is my attempt at regaining my former glory, I haven’t written for Graves in a hot minute so I had to resurface some feelings lol

Also, I’ve never written mlm before, so if there’s anything that’s particularly off-putting, irritating, inconsiderate, etc, please drop a comment, also I didn’t really mention the fact they’re trans except for one part if you squint, I didn’t know if it was necessary to outright mention it, ALSO the spice is very mild I hope that’s okay :,)

Thank you!

Phillip Graves x tm!Reader - Snowed in

Warnings: description of injury, Gaz possibly being Graves’ gay awakening, internalized homophobia, suggestions of Graves’ racist actions, mild spice, some angst

To be a part of Price’s task force—to be an operator—was to be a team player. No matter what, no matter how genius your idea may be, no matter how good you are at whatever risky bullshit you’re into, you are never on your own until someone says so. This was articulated to Phillip Graves. But there was a reason he ran his own company instead working for one. There was something bold inside him; something demanding and mean. He used it to build Shadow Company, but that didn’t change the fact that his nature was what stranded him by himself in the first place.

You knew from the day you met him that he had walls up that may never come down for the rest of his life. Those traces of insecurity and fear that shot from him in the form of sharp words and trickling bigotry. He was good at ordering. Good at explosives.

Bad at people.

It was warm in the safehouse that the 141, Alejandro, Rudy, Graves, and one of his Shadows were laying low after your ammunition ran thin, and Gaz was grazed badly through the gaps of his vest. You sat at his side while the others gathered themselves, inspecting the wound. Gaz stripped to his bare torso, revealing a sizable chunk missing from just above his hip. The flesh was torn irregularly, and you struggled to find a solution that would avoid infection.

You heard Graves murmur to one of the Shadows,

“Go on.”

He spoke to his men like they were still in training, his tone a smooth blend of authoritative and encouraging. Sometimes you wondered if it was a bad thing that they’d follow his word without a second thought.

The Shadow gently replaced your spot beside him and began working on the wound, his medic badge partially torn from the rock face they had scaled to reach the cabin.

“You look surprised.” Graves’ low voice caught your attention. Your eyes met before he returned his gaze to the Shadow medic, his arms crossed.

“Maybe a little.” You muttered.

“I’m not that cruel, Sergeant.” The smile that he flashed was a dangerous one. His teeth a crystal white, his incisors pointed like a malinois’.

“So you are cruel—a little.” You reply.

“This is war, Sergeant.” He answered evenly, but he could never hide that underlying bite of defensiveness. ‘I’m right, you’re wrong.’

You tilted your head in resignation.

“This is war.”

Graves’ ego was effortless to satiate. He walked away without another smart comment.

“Getting friendly, hermano?”

Alejandro fidgeted with a combat knife where he sat on the tattered couch, his free arm laying on the backrest.

“Not everyone will hate the men that you do.” Rudy chided from beside him.

Your quiet laugh made Alejandro bristle.

“Oye, cuándo dije eso?”

“You’re practically fantasizing with that thing.” Rudy pointed out Alejandro’s knife.

“I..don’t trust him.”

“We know.” You commented. “But he helped Farah, why not Las Almas?”

“Urzikstan does not have a history with America the way Mexico does..” Rudy pointed out. “Graves was born in Texas, he was probably taught all kinds of shit that made him like that.”

It was true; Graves’ file revealed he had never left his hometown until he joined the military. He grew up in the kind of place where the horses and cows outnumbered the people.

“Maybe he’s just the kind of guy that can’t come home from work.”

Your words surprised you.

“What do you get defending him?” Alejandro retorted. “He’s not a good guy.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I think I do.”

As Alejandro stood from his previous position, you heard your name, turning to see Graves leaning in the doorway with one arm on the wooden frame and the other hand having a thumb hooked in his vest. He always stood like that; his hands just had to be grasping something. It made your mouth feel dry.

“One of you, come help me get our truck out of the ditch.” He called.

You heard Alejandro’s scoff and muttering as you crossed the room.

“Thanks.” Graves muttered as he turned to lead you through the snow to the ditch.

“How’d it get in the ditch, exactly?” You spoke, your breath a mist of air in front of your lips.

“Whatever dipshit that was in the driver’s seat left it in neutral.”

“That—might have been me.”

Graves glanced at you, his steps faltering.

“I’m fucking with you.” You murmur.

He just shook his head, that glowing smile flashing again.

You both came upon the trucks, the back two tires settled in the ditch while the front two stayed on the flat ground.

“Who’s pushing?”

“Where I’m from, it’s whoever asks that.” You didn’t miss his grin as he opened the driver’s side door.

“I’m sure you’re not making that up.”

“I’m not..” He laughed a bit through his words, and it made you dizzy. “It’s true..”

“You got a lot of experience doing dumb shit with trucks?”

“You could say that..” Graves’ smile hadn’t dropped. You wanted to keep going, to savor his expression, but your boots carried you behind the truck, and you waited for the wheels to turn before pushing up.

“Don’t let up!”

You heard his shout over the roar of the engine, and tried to steady yourself. But the ice was slick with mud, the soles of your boots providing little traction as you clung to the back bumper.

“Is it moving?” You call to him.

“It’s-"

His words were cut short by a sickening sputter of the engine.

“Get out! Get out of there, the battery’s dead!” His shout was more desperate than you’d ever heard him.

“I can’t-" You muttered helplessly before the weight of the heavy truck pressed you to the frozen mud, the angle of the underside up against the ditch pinning you to the cold earth. The parts that stuck out had raked down your back, cutting into the vulnerable flesh.

You heard him yell your name, your first name. You heard him curse as he dropped down beside where you were trapped.

“Please tell me you’re alive.. come on, talk to me..”

“My legs.. I can’t move my..” You rasped. From the knee down, the crushing metal pinned your legs enough to render you immobile.

“Breathe. You’re gonna be fine, come here.. come on..”

His gloved hand fit into your own securely, and you had to shake off the rush in your head.

When he tried to ease you out, you couldn’t stop the groan of pain that escaped you, devolving into quick, panicked breaths. “I can’t..”

“Easy.. easy.” He had enough room to hold your upper arm steady. “It’s gonna hurt, alright? But you gotta get out from under there..”

You nod, your breath short. “Yeah.. okay..”

“I’ve got you. You hear me?”

“I hear..”

“Alright.”

This time, one his arms worked around your middle, and the warmth blooming in your ribs nearly offset the white-hot tendrils shooting up your legs and back.

Graves pulled slowly, your legs slowly inching free as you gasped and groaned in pain.

“Breathe..” Graves murmured like he was speaking to a small animal, his breath warm on your temple. “Come on.. come on, now..”

Finally, he yanked you free, the both of you partially collapsing in the filthy ditch. You try to stand, but were quickly guided to sit down.

“Hey, don’t be a hero, sit still..” Graves knelt, inspecting your back with a low whistle.

“You didn’t break anything..” You murmured. You couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Told you.. I got you..”

You sit side by side, exhausted from the day, the adrenaline, the pain.

“Thank you.” You murmur.

Graves brought up a knee to rest his elbow on, his other hand waving you off.

“Not an issue, baby.”

When the words left his mouth, any softness in his face hardened into something else. Like he’d made himself angry.

“I-" He looked away.

“What’d you call me?” Your voice was a soft murmur.

“Nothing. I didn’t call you anything, come on..” He straightened to stand.

His expression matched yours now; flushed and confused.

“Graves.”

“I said come on!” He barked, but couldn’t get to his feet before you pulled him to sit back down.

“Sergeant..” His tone was warning. His hand covered yours where you held onto his vest. “That didn’t happen.”

“It did.”

“No.” His words were firm, but his eyes were desperate.

You slid a hand up to his shoulder. “It’s okay..”

“No! I cant-"

“But you want to.” Your eyes bore into his with an unwavering steadiness while your voice quieted to a whisper. “You want to..”

His face conveyed so many emotions, conflicting and fighting one another. He looked at your lips, and exhaled shakily.

“God dammit..”

“I know it’s hard to let go of what other people see you as. It’s okay.”

“You mean cause’ you..”

You nod.

“I—don’t know how.” He managed.

“Don’t doubt yourself like that.”

You were closer now. Close enough for the puffs of your breath to mingle with his.

“No one knows. No one..” He shakes his head, still partially in the headspace that wouldn’t let him feel anything other than bitterness.

“It’s up to you who does.” You murmur.

“Graves?”

Soap’s voice called from a few meters away, sending Graves scrambling to his feet.

“The truck pinned them, they’re hurt. Help me out.” In his fashion, he wasted no time showing his embarrassment, reverting to his wavering authority.

Soap only shook his head, but dropped down beside you. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, he got me out..” You muttered as Soap hauled you to your feet, not missing the way Graves looked away at the mention of his rescuing you.

The rest of the night was tense—your back was ripped up, your legs were sore and tender, but it was ensured that nothing was broken. For the three days left before an exfil helicopter arrived, you spent most of your time with your legs propped on the couch. It felt wrong to take up one of the only spaces to rest, to not be able to follow Graves when he walked outside to scan the surrounding hills. You felt chained in place, your only glimpses of him being his fleeting glances in your direction before he walked away again.

You almost forgot he wasn’t coming back to the base with you. He’d be going back to his own site, onto the next mission, onto the next project. It was supposed to be a short interaction between the 141 and him, but you just had to volunteer to help him move that truck. You just had to press him about it.

The sound of helicopter blades woke you up on the fourth morning, and most everyone else was moving equipment outside. You heard muffled voices.

“Graves, go help him into the heli.” Price’s gruff order sounded from outside.

“You don’t need help movin’ all that?” Graves’ tone was wavering; grasping at any excuse to keep avoiding you. You were starting to get irritated.

“You got a problem with my Sergeant?” Price retorted.

A sigh. “No, sir.”

“Right, then.”

His snow-covered boots tracked in the mud from outside, and you glanced at them before you looked at his face.

“Hey.” He didn’t meet your eyes, offering a hand to help you upright. You didn’t move.

“You’re avoiding me.” You mutter. The frustration crept up your throat.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to his side.

“We don’t have time for this.. we might never see each other again, can you focus on that?” His eyes caught your frustration and reflected it right back in your face.

“You can’t brush this off, Graves.”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do.” He snapped, walking to the door. “You act like you know me because I fucked up back there, but you don’t. This conversation-"

You hauled yourself to your feet, the pain making you wince. You straightened anyway, walking over until you were in his face again.

“What if you didn’t fuck up? You ever think about that?” You muttered.

His chest rose and fell with angry breath.

“Why’re you doin’ this to me?”

His soft tone caught you off guard, and your shoulders that had been tensed relaxed downward again.

“Because you don’t deserve to live like this. No one does.”

Your hand had found its way to his upper arm unintentionally, but he hadn’t pulled away. You weren’t wearing your gloves, the warmth of your palm radiating through his sleeve and thawing the sparse snowflakes that had caught on the fabric.

“How can you be so sure?” His brow was still furrowed with stress, his body somehow lax and tensed all at once.

“I can’t.” you admit. “But I won’t let you walk away without hearing that there is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Who you love is not up to the rest of the world, and that’s one of the few things you still have to yourself. So keep it close.”

His eyes searched your face, your eyes, and finally your lips. His breath quickened.

Your hand drew upward to hold his jaw in your palm. He smelled like warm linen and smoke. One of his hands crept up your back while the other settled on your cheek, all in an impossibly fast motion before he pressed a kiss to your parted lips.

You felt the anxiety and shame melt from him for a moment, your lips working in tandem. Once he had a taste for you, he couldn’t stop. He deepened the kiss with a groan, your own hands hooking into his vest and pressing your bodies together. His hand was just working under your shirt and up your stomach before the door handle turned. With his hand still under your clothes, he shut the door firmly, keeping whoever it was outside. You heard a vague, confused voice, but most of your brain was clouded by his hand moving over your front, up your waist and ribs that were still wrapped in gauze.

You reluctantly pulled your lips from his, breathing heavily.

“Graves..”

“Oi! What the fuck is goin’ on, I’m breaking the door down in three!”

Ghost’s voice caused you to gently move Graves’ hand from under your shirt, pressing one last kiss to his lips before pulling the door open and putting on your best limp. Ghost’s eyes told you he didn’t buy it for a second, but he stayed quiet as Graves trailed after you with flushed cheeks.

You were the last to board the helicopter, turned around by your shoulder before stepping up to see Graves. He seemed almost shaken; but placed his hands around one of yours before setting off back to the safe house. Looking in your hand, you saw the scrawled digits of a phone number on a scrap of a report sheet. You held it the entire flight back.

#cod requests #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #phillip graves #cod philip graves #phillip graves x male reader #phillip graves x reader #graves mw2 #commander graves

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jekyllnahyena · 1 year

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Look! It’s Reg’s lockscreen :D

[I.D. It’s a digital drawing of Simon Ghost Riley and John Soap MacTavish. They’re both sleep, lying on a couch with Soap on top of Ghost, who’s holding into him, one hand on his back, the other in his hair. It has a white frame, emulating a polaroid. The words, ‘Post Mission Nap’ are written on the lower frame. End I.D]

#simon ghost riley #commander ghost #john soap mactavish #commander soap #god theyre so adorable i swear to fuck-#reg is trying her hardest not to explode while taking the pic #ajekyllsart

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hffhifjou · 1 year

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MY MIGHTY BOYS 🥰🥰 pt 2

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dexonvi · 24 days

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my first attempts to draw Soap💀

#cod #cod mw3 #cod oc #commander cody #ghost cod #konig cod #soap cod #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #soapghost #soap mw2 #soap call of duty #call of duty

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baby-jaguar · 6 months

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CoD Western AU and Mail Order Spouse Trope

Howdy!

Welcome to my version of a Wild West AU & Mail-Order Spouse Trope. Introduction of the reader scenario will be down below and a little digital art will be added in to show our lovely options of spouses. This is Gender Neutral.

This was my first Au and trope project I’ve worked on. While I learn and decide how I want to upload this, I hope everyone enjoys or just gets a kick out of this!

Introduction & Backstory

Your life wasn’t awful, per se, but sometimes you wonder if you say that to yourself to cope with what you’ve been through. Simply put, you were your family's breadwinner, caretaker, and damage controller. You were poor-ish, where you had to use scraps of fabrics to make your clothes, but yet your father could always afford a bottle to be in his hand, and your mother out on the porch smoking whatever she needed that day to cope and try to be a mom and wife.

Coat of many colors indeed.

You worked, and you have worked from a young age to continuously support your family as you didn't have a choice if you wanted to keep the roof over your head. Although, you were thankful that your mother was adamant you went to the schoolhouse and got at least a good amount of education.

After attending school for a few years until puberty, you were in the working class; your job as a domestic servant included the taste of farmhand, tailoring, and working to cann fruits that were grown on the farm. After a long shift on the warm and humid spring day, you walked back home to hear your father yelling as usual but stopped when you heard your name being spoken.

“As soon as we sell that damn nuisance, we’ll be rolling in dough. I can’t believe that damn bastard politician wants our kin. Said once he’s back from his campaign up north he’ll come meet ‘em.” He laughs before taking another swig of his drink, your mother laughing along with him as she has a lit pipe in the house for the first time in a long time.

Now, you to truly understand the depravity of this; the seriousness of her celebrating with a lit drug inside the house.

Your stomach drops, nausea rolling over you at the thought of them selling you off to the old and decrepit wealthy politician for marriage to get money. Money that they’ll blow through, having never learned to control their vices turned addictions.

A cold sweat breaks out on you as you swallow down the urge to expel the minimal amount of food in your worn-out body, and promptly turn around and walk back into town.

Walking the dark streets, you navigate quietly and hide behind the shadows of the night with only a few dimly lit light posts flickering their oil flame light. While walking the edge of the closed shops, you see a dirty newspaper thrown on the ground and almost step over it until a small headline catches your eye.

“FRONTIER MEN, LOOKING FOR CAPABLE SPOUSE”

Your eyes scan quickly over the matrimony company advertising for men located in the frontier lands, each searching for promising spouses and wanting to marry soon. You read over the information, seeing that the listed men below are located in newly booming towns out west, a few even located in mining towns or having their own company.

Your body zings with a chill of adrenaline at the thought of diving head first into chance and change, but you knew something much better could be awaiting you…

Should you do it?

looking around, the humid and small town looks back at you as you enter a hardened state of mind; What would become if you stayed here? The disgusting politician's new toy just to break? Your parents are already planning on how to drain their funds dry within a month of letting their addictions take over? You don't have friends, your boss is the closest thing to one just because you spend hours each and every day working.

Yeah.

You're gonna fucking do it.

Taking a seat, your eyes quickly scan down the page of advertisements, looking over the small blurbs of descriptions offered. The correspondence cost would be 10 cents, meaning you have one chance to get his attention and get the new life you need.

Simon Riley Biography, Meeting Simon,

John Price Biography, Meeting John

Kyle Garrick Biography, Meeting Kyle

John MacTavish Biography, Meeting Johnny

Phillip Graves Biography, Meeting Phillip

Alejandro Vargas Biography, Meeting Alejandro

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