#yado shitposts

“... What should I get Hoxton for Christmas?”

“Jesus Christ, Wolf,” Dallas glanced at the time and date in the corner of his computer screen, “you’ve only got 8 days left!”

Wolf groaned and mumbled something about being busy, procrastinating, and Dallas sighed. It was no exaggeration to say Wolf had severe decision-making anxiety, and it was no wonder he’d been struggling - they’d been swamped with weird and wacky requests from Vlad much earlier in the month than in the years prior (secretly he wondered whether Vlad had caught on that the gang had begun avoiding him whenever December rolled around).

“Did you ask Sokol already? What did he say?”

“Blow job,” Wolf said, surly.

“Damn, that was my suggestion-”

“I know that already!” Wolf whined. He sounded so pitiful Dallas became serious.

“Okay. Come talk to me again at 5. We’ll both have no fewer than five ideas, alright?”

“FIVE? Aww c’mon, three-”

“FIVE. I SAID FIVE. If I said FIVE, it’s happening,” Dallas said loudly, pushing the Swede towards the door. “See you at 5! Five ideas at 5, Wolf, no excuses!”

Finally, Dallas had the office to himself again. He sank back into his comfortable chair and glanced at the ceiling.

“Bain-”

“You already told him what I wanted to say.”

Duke realises he is expected to read the document out loud.

It’s the lyrics to Nicki Minaj’s Anaconda.

He reads it all without missing a beat, blinking or stuttering.

The heisters inevitably come up with more and more ridiculous things for him to read in his special Duke-y way.

Sydney, Sokol, Jacket, Wolf: *looking guilty*

Hoxton: we’re playing ‘we’ve got to kick this ball into the goal or the world’s gonna end.’

Dallas: *in disbelief* the goal is the kitchen bin.

Hoxton: yes.

Dallas:

Hoxton:

Dallas: there’s trash inside it-

“This is nothing,” Sokol would sneer at whoever begun shivering first in their work wear during a stakeout. “This isn’t even single digit temperature. This isn’t even negative temperature.”

Wolf would shake his head mockingly. “They’ll be pulling out their scarves and gloves any second now.”

Their obnoxious behaviour around wintertime accelerated as indeed their fellow crewmates soon after began donning thick layers of clothing, hurrying into the Safehouse from the outdoors bundled up in heavy coats, thick scarves and woolly hats.

The pair even asked Bain if they were allowed to wear shorts whilst heisting.

“For safety reasons, it’s gonna be a no, fellas,” Bain said sternly. “Those long pants are for your own protection.”

Both Sokol and Wolf nodded to show they understood.

So imagine everyone's surprise when the pair showed up to their next heist in shorts they had clearly made themselves with kitchen scissors.

Sokol had cut his homemade shorts to land just above the knee, adding further rips and holes to make his look more fashion-forward. The length emphasised the swollen curves of his calves, causing the eye to trail across the muscles over and over.

Wolf had opted for a simpler look - keeping the hem messy with loose stitching, he fashioned himself a pair of hot-pants out of old work trousers.

“What?” he asked loudly, as innocently as he could, gazing at his fellow heisters who were wearing thick woollen vests over their crisp white shirts and thermal leggings under their trousers.

Midland Ranch heist, but instead of the new track it plays Ram Ranch.

Joy: F

Dallas:

Joy:

Dallas:

Ahh, Duke. Voice like butter. He may not hold the position of crew chief like Dallas, but if he tells the other heisters to do something?

They listen. He offers words of praise or comfort? They fuckin' listen.

Proud bisexual. Can imagine him with your stereotypical twenty-something blonde in a sparkly red dress and just as easily with Jimmy Dallas Bain a beefy, outdoorsy type fella with a beard.

Prefers dickie bows to ties. Ties look the part, but they tend to dip in your coffee, or over wet paint if you're working on a flat desk instead of an easel.