#birdie & mama may

[hangmansgbaby]

Gunpowder & Lead P R O L O G U E

Masterlist

Emory's POV is written by @mamachasesmayhem and Jake's POV is written by me.

Banners are POV changers.

"I can't do this anymore, Matt. I'm leaving." The words leave my mouth with only a slight tremble. 

Matt barks out a laugh. "What was that, baby?" 

I take a deep breath and steel my nerves. "I'm leaving."

"The fuck you are!"

Matt's statement is punctuated with a fierce blow to my cheek, knocking me sideways.  

I thought that his recent lack of interest in me would have made this easier. I thought that maybe he was finally tired of me, that maybe he wouldn't care as much when I tried to leave. Clearly, I was wrong. 

A kick lands on my ribs after I land on the floor, followed by a few more. I try to no avail to block them, only earning bruises and likely more fractures to my arms. He grips my hair to pull me up only to slam my head into the floor.  My head spins as I feel blood pool beneath me.  I'm barely conscious when he finally decides to stop, probably thinking I'm down for the count. I hear him grab hiskeys from their hook by the door but when I catch a glimpse of the hooks I realize it wasn't just his that he took, but mine too. Shit, that makes this more difficult. His stupid ass Camero revs in the driveway and the sound of his tires peeling fills the small house. I fight to stay conscious because I can do this.  

I don't know how much time has passed when I pull every ounce of will and strength in my body and finally crawl onto my hands and knees.  

I can do this.  

It could have been minutes or hours since Matt left, so I don't waste a second.  

I can do this.

I stumble out of the door and adrenaline floods my nervous system.  

I can do this.

My bare feet carry me across the pavement and then through the woods across from the house. It'll hurt like hell later, but it's much shorter to cut through them to get to Birdie's house. This is a route I've memorized, having to sneak out to see my best friend when Matt eventually stopped allowing it. I can get there with my eyes closed, and it's entirely possible I do. 

I eventually break through the tree line and push past the pain that's threatening to overwhelm my body. The light to the back porch is on, drawing me near like a lighthouse to the coast, and I stumble the last few steps to the door. I fall against the cool wood in a heap, frantically pounding my fist against it as darkness clouds my vision. The door opens underneath me and I let it take over, finally able to rest. 

It's warm when I come to, a gentle voice rousing me. "Sweets, can you hear me? Shit, Jav!  She's breathing and has a pulse but she's not responding to me."

I groan and try to peel my eyes open. That voice definitely does not belong to Birdie. It's not her husband Bob either, and that's what startled me enough to fully return my brain to my body.  My eyes land on a face surely carved by Aphrodite herself. 

"Am I dead?" I mutter out. With a chiseled jaw and concern swimming in mossy green eyes staring down at me, I must be. Especially if I'm not scrambling to get away from a man that isn't Bob Floyd. But a tiny voice in my head tells me that he's safe and that he won't hurt me, so I let myself listen to it. 

A small smile pulls at the lips of the man above me. "No, sweets. You're alive, it looks like you fought real hard to be too. How'd you end up here?"

The realization I didn't make it to Birdie's makes me gasp and try to sit up. "I was trying to get to Birdie's house, where I am?!"

I notice I'm cradled in his lap when his arms tighten around me in an attempt to keep me from jostling the multiple injuries I'm sure I have. "Easy, I got you. Birdie Floyd? She's right next door, you almost made it. Just a hundred feet short."

A voice crackles through his phone, clearly on speaker given that I can hear it so clearly. "I'm about 3 minutes out, Jake. What's going on?"

"She's awake, Javy. I think I can manage until you get here, but I'll keep you on the phone just in case."

He turns to me and I can hear sirens in the background of the call. "I'm Officer Jake Seresin and on the phone is my best friend Javy Machado, he's a paramedic.  He's working tonight and I called him the second I opened the door, he and his partner are on the way to come look at ya, ok?" My nod prompts him to continue. "I can go get Bob and Birdie if you want?"

"No!" I yelp. "Please don't leave me alone! H-he might show up..."

"It's ok, pretty girl. I got you, I won't leave you alone. You're safe with me." His voice is calm, soothing. "Even though I'm off duty, I called in some backup. I don't want ya worryin' when you hear the sirens and see the lights here shortly."  

His thumb rubs small circles on my upper arm as red and blue fill the night sky. 

Jake carries me outside to meet the paramedics and I can hear Birdie from across the yard.

“What’s going on?” Her eyes scan the scene and finally land on me and she immediately runs to me."Emory! Oh, honey! What did he do to you this time?" She starts sobbing as her hand gently traces my swollen cheek. "How'd you find her, Jake?"

"She found me. She knocked on my door thinking it was yours." His chin tips up in acknowledgment when Bob joins his wife. "Hey, Floyd. Javy just rolled up and called in some backup."

No sooner than the words leave his mouth, a tall man with a mocha complexion hops out of the ambulance and rushes over. Jake reluctantly lets me go and nods at me as Javy takes over and lays me on a stretcher. As he's taking inventory of my injuries and rolling me to the ambulance, I hear Jake talking to Bob.  

"Where's the fucker that did this to her?"

"If he's not at home, he's at The Den." Bob replies, anger clear in his voice. 

Jake climbs up the step into the ambulance, just beside Birdie and reaches out and gently squeezes my hand.  "Javy's the best there is, you're in good hands. I'm gonna go get the sad excuse of a man that did this to you and he's gonna go rot in a cell."

Tears well in my eyes as relief washes over me.  "Thank you, Jake."

Jake did as he promised, immediately arresting Matt and tossing him in jail. After confirming I did, in fact, end up with new fractures in my arm, a concussion, and severely bruised ribs I returned to work about a week after I may have been sporting a neon pink cast, fading bruises on my face, and stitches in my lip, but I'd never been happier. 

The trial officially concluded and Jake was there by my side through the entire thing, volunteering to be my personal protection detail.

6 months later

Jake had walked through the door of Cora's, the bakery Birdie and I have been working at since we were undergraduates at UT Austin. Once the recognition hit me, I gasped. "It's you."

His smile was soft, almost shy, as he blushed. "It's me."

"You saved me, l-I don't have enough words for how thankful I am for you."

Thankfully, he dropped in during a slower time so my rambling isn't holding up other customers.  

Jake reaches up and rubs the back of his neck as he looks down. "I'd like to think it's what anyone would do, having sworn an oath to protect and serve and all."

I take the time to finally observe what he's wearing, and he looks damn good in his uniform, before smiling up at him. "Well, take your pick officer. Anything you want is on the house.  For as long as I work here."

After that day, he made it a habit to stop in at some point during his shift for coffee and a pastry if he was feeling particularly cheeky.  "The coffee's always been free to the boys in blue, I can't take advantage of your kindness all the time, Sweets." He'd told me. 

And eventually Jake asked me out. "I know you were in a terrible relationship before, so if this is too forward, stop me. But now that it's not a conflict of interest, how do you feel about dinner with me?"

"Dinner sounds amazing." I'd told him with a wide smile and his quickly matched my own. 

From that day forward, we'd been nearly inseparable. With his support, I'd finally caught up with Birdie and finished my MBA. While in school, I met the little spitfire named Adalaide Blake.  She had been in her final semester of law school and studying to pass the BAR exam. She quickly became close to Birdie and I and we've been thick as thieves since.  

Honoring the promise she made to a couple of 19 year old kids, Cora, the owner of the bakery, turned it over into our capable hands and retired. Cora was the grandma I had always wanted.  She took me in when I had nothing and loved Birdie and I as her own. Not long after we took over, Matt was released from prison. Jake had delivered the unfortunate news after plying me with ice cream and tequila a few days before our one year anniversary. He promised to keep me safe and asked me to move in with him. We'd discussed it more the next morning when I was sober and he assured me his reasoning was more than just keeping me safe, he wanted me as part of his every day routine.  

Within a few months of my moving in, I helped Jake study for and pass his detective's test. He soon promoted and we celebrated by christening the new home for the bakery. The new location included a large, secure basement with the intention of housing abused women and children.  Thanks to Jake, the rest of his squadron at the department, and connections they've made through the years, the changes weren't made public knowledge.  

There was a caveat that Jake wasn't aware of: Birdie, Addie, and I had been planning something. While we were absolutely making the new construction a safe haven, we also wanted to find a way to make sure men like Matt didn't ruin any more lives. We realized we could make that happen thanks to the combined knowledge of my studying with Jake for the detective test, Birdie hearing all the stories from Bob about work, and Addie having spent a few years as a defense attorney, we could do it. Birdie had the idea to open a secret speakeasy that would be a way for us to meet with potential women who needed help. The brave souls who sought our help were instructed to ask for a pomegranate scone, which was not sold in the bakery.  They were instead provided with a time to meet back here at the speakeasy that we named "The Underworld." 

Over the next 2 years, we caught cheaters, helped mothers get sole custody of their children, returned money stolen by swindling slimeballs, and rescued women and children from abusive homes. Along the way, we'd made some new friends and became known as The Furies. The Furies consisted of a team of powerful, badass women who shared the same mindset as us. We also made some new enemies...one of them being the Austin PD. A task force was born to stop the ring of vigilantes, and the most ironic part of it all is that many of the Furies have a personal connection to a member of the task force.  For me it was Jake. The man of my dreams and love of my life, had taken on the lead. He had risen through the ranks quickly, finding himself on many cases involving the work of the Furies. With his extensive knowledge, it was a no brainer for the department that he be the commanding officer. Even Birdie’s husband volunteered to be the CSI Specialist for the task force.

Jake and I were almost 4 years into our relationship when my ruse was finally up. I had successfully kept the two facets of my life separate until that fateful night. 

We had been running a sting on a local biker gang known for human trafficking, Demeter and I had been at The Den while trying to sneak our way into the back by posing as "entertainment" for the club. Apparently, one of the guys there that night had known Matt and therefore knew who I was. That's when shit hit the fan. While I'd been training extensively with Jake in MMA classes and with our ex-military friend learning to evade capture, one me against five men was no match. I'd learned how to take a hit with minimal damage and that was my saving grace. With my ass thoroughly beaten, I once again found myself stumbling through the dense woods that lead to Bob and Birdie's house. Leaning against the doorframe, my knuckles rap against the wood for her to come usher me inside and help me get patched up.  

If my right eye wasn't swollen shut, I might have noticed that the door was a deep blue I'd personally picked out instead of the dark maroon I was expecting. The door opens and I don't even look up before I start talking. 

"I'm an idiot, I know. Might need to call someone though, I think one of those fuckers broke my nose," I whine. 

"Emory? What the fuck?!" A deep voice bellows from the open door. 

I look up and my eyes make contact with very angry looking green ones.  "Aw shit, wrong door again."

"What the actual fuck, Em? Get inside." I try to usher her in but she takes a step back.

"No, I'm gonna pretend this didn't happen and walk over to Birdie's." Emory tried to walk away but I reached out and snatched her hand. "Jake what are you -? Ow ow, fine, I'll go, just let go of me." 

I let go and she pulled on her hand to get rid of the feeling. I could see the war in her one good eye as she reluctantly followed me inside. I led her into the kitchen, lifting her up onto the island before moving to grab the first aid kit from under the sink. I silently began working on cleaning up the blood on her face before moving down to see if there are other wounds to treat. 

"It's just my nose." She mutters and I release the breath I didn't know I was holding as I check on her nose. It wasn't broken thankfully and it didn't look like she was going to have a concussion either so I was able to relax a little. 

"Well it doesn't look broken." I sigh as I move to grab an ice pack from the freezer. "Just need some ice and you'll keep your gorgeous face in perfect condition." She gives me an unimpressed glance as I hold out the ice pack to show her how serious I am about fixing her nose. She grabs it and gingerly presses it against the bridge of her nose.

The air around us was thick as we sat in silence. I took the time to really take her in: the way her hair is still messy and her eyes are still slightly swollen, the bridge of her nose was red and she was sure to have bruising around her eyes tomorrow. I could tell by the way she stared at the tiled floor of our kitchen that she was in her mind. She was supposed to be at the bakery all night, and now she's showing up at my door bloody, again. I'm just about to say something when she speaks up.

"So I guess I gotta explain why we're having a deja vu episode."

"That would be nice." I say with a deep sigh. "But I'd rather make sure you are okay."

"I'm fine. I'd like to explain it all now, rather than later." Her voice sounded strained and for someone who was usually so confident, that was saying something. "Okay, shoot." 

She takes a deep breath before she starts. "I would like to state that if you never wanna see or speak to me again after you hear all this I completely understand, because it's a lot and you're probably gonna hate me afterwards and—"

"Em, please, stop." I cut her off, unable to deal with any more of her self deprecating rambling. "We're gonna have to get married before you continue so I can claim marital privilege."

"Wait, really?" She drops the ice pack to the counter as her eyes widen at my words. We've only just recently started talking about marriage being an option because I wanted to wait for her to be ready for it. "Seriously? You wanna marry me before I tell you all this?"

"Really, sweets." I smile, reaching out to cup her cheeks. "I love you and nothing could ever make me hate you! Shit, you could be the fucking leader of the Furies and I would still only see my Emory. I even have a ring upstairs." 

"No you don't." She chuckles nervously. 

"Oh, I do, trust me." I lean towards her and place a small kiss on her lips. They're chapped but warm. She leans forward as well, tilting her head slightly. We pull apart with a soft chuckle.

"So should we get you that ring and then go tell Bob and Birdie?" I smile.

"Yeah. Yeah I think we should." She nods before looking back at me. "You wanna help me clean up?" I laugh as I grab a washcloth to clean up the rest of the blood. 

Once she was cleaned up and changed into some new clothes, we made our way across the shared yard to the Floyd household. 

"I doubt they're even still up." Emory mutters as I knock on the door. "I mean seriously, it's 4 am. They wouldn't still be up, would they?"

"Not that I can tell." I frown and look back toward Em. "Let's see." We both peer inside the house through a window and we both see that the lights are still on, albeit dimly. Suddenly, the door opens to reveal Bob, his eyes already tired and his glasses fogged up from sleep. His hair was rumpled as if he had been running his hands through as his vision focused on us.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here so late?"

"We need to talk to you guys." I answer as Emory nods. 

"About what?" The tone in his voice indicates that he isn't buying into anything. He's definitely suspicious of us. 

"Nothing important." I lie and Emory quickly steps in.

"But you should go get Birdie."

"If it's enough for the both of you to interrupt mine and Birdie's sleep schedules, then it is important." Bob sighs, "Come on in." He gestures us in before locking the door and heading towards his bedroom where Birdie was surely sound asleep.

It's a few minutes before we hear the tell tale signs of Emory's best friend running down the hallway. 

"Em! Are you okay?" The brunette girl drops beside her friend, checking her over for injuries. "Should I call…?"

"I'm fine Bird, everything is okay now." Em assures her and I could see Birdie's shoulders visibly relax before she reaches for a pillow.

"Then where the hell have you been?!" The brunette exclaims as she pulls away from her friend, hitting her with the decorative pillow. "I thought you were dead! There was always a chance you were in deep but what the hell?!"

"I'll explain everything later, but we need you to do something for us first." Emory smiles softly, pulling the pillow from Birdie's hands. Both Birdie and Bob look at us confused as I move to the seat next to Em. 

"We're getting married tomorrow." I say.

"Oh." Bob answers shocked.

"Oh? Oh my god! Finally!" Birdie jumps up cheering. "Wait! Why tomorrow?"

"I might've fucked up on which door I knocked on again." Emory giggles. I laugh with her, Birdie just stares blankly at us before she speaks.

"So you're gonna...?"

"After the wedding, he wants marital privilege." Em answers.

"Oh well then by all means Mr. Seresin, dive in head first!" Birdie replies, laughing. "Break her heart after this, they won't find your body."

"I'm gonna kill you someday Birdie." Emory mumbles.

"No you won't." Birdie blows her a kiss. "Now you get the guest room." She says, pulling Emory from the couch and pushing her down the hall. "And you get to go home and sleep alone!" She says, looking at me. 

"But..."

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Now get out of my house." Birdie ushers me towards the door.

"Ya know we could've done it in secret." I tell her.

"Then you'd be dead. Night Jake!" She smiles before closing her front door and locking it. 

With that I turned, headed towards home. I felt slightly lightheaded and giddy; I couldn't believe it actually happened. I didn't feel scared or worried, but I guess I should have. I knew I loved Emory and nothing could change that, why would she even think that anything would? As I thought about these things walking through my front door, I glanced at the clock, noting the brightly shining 4:36 am. The courthouse opens at 8, sleeping now would only make us late so I walked to the living room and threw on the morning news.

Our wedding, although a simple one at the courthouse with only Bob and Birdie present was perfect. I never needed the fancy suit, the white gown, and the big wedding to prove that I loved her. Seeing her stand before me with the ring I've been holding onto for a year was more than enough. Bob and Birdie treated us to breakfast before heading back to their house. And then Emory tells me everything. And I mean everything.

I sit in shock on the loveseat as Em paces across the living room from me. Birdie's in the kitchen making drinks and Bob speaks up from his seat on the other couch.

"Well thank fuck someone else knows." He sighs, relaxing into his chair.

"I'm sorry, WHAT?!" I shouted, turning to who I thought was my best friend. "You knew they were doing this?"

"Why else do you think there was never any definite trail linking them to any of the crimes? I've been busting my ass around the clock out here!" Bob defends. "Nat and I can't take it anymore!" Bob immediately slaps a hand over his mouth. My eyes widen, if possible, more than they already were. 

"Nat knows?!"

"BOB!" Both Emory and Birdie shout.

"Am I the only one who didn't know?" I question, my eyes trailing between the girls. 

"Uhhh, Jake. Let's talk more tomorrow after we've consummated our marriage and can't have it annulled." Em chuckles softly and I already know the answer. Everyone, everyone knew before me.

"Did everyone know before me?"

"At least Cyclone doesn't know. Especially about—" Bob is cut off again by his wife who's abandoned the drinks. 

"Robert!"

"The dam is broken, Birdie. There's no turning back now!" 

"I knew we should've let Psyche make him sign the NDA." Emory sighs, groaning as she drops into a seat.

"Well I figured he feared his wife more." Birdie shrugs.

"And I do!" Bob jumps up, trying to defend himself. "I don't fear jail because I know what you bunch are capable of."

"Robert Floyd! Did you only marry me cause you thought I'd kill you?!" Birdie shouts, turning to glare at her husband.

"No! I love you! I do!" Bob panics, trying to dig out of the hole he got himself in. "But I definitely don't wanna be on the receiving end of one of Em's special recipes."

"BOB!!!" Em, Birdie, and hell even I shouted at him, knowing that was definitely something he was not supposed to tell me.

"I'm gonna go shower now." Bob mutters, walking towards the master bedroom.

"I swear I'm gonna—"

"Let us leave before you go all Hera on his ass." Em laughs as she pulls me to the front door. I'm still processing everything she told me as we enter our home.

My girlfriend—my wife— is THE Persephone, the leader of the Furies. The woman who has been avoiding capture at my hand for years now. The love of my life is who I've been chasing this entire time. Holy shit.

"You okay over there?" Her voice drags me from my thoughts. I look up to see her staring at me expectantly. 

"I'm okay, I think?" 

"Are you asking me if you are okay?" She laughs, stepping up to me. Her hazel eyes still sparkle the way they always have, but especially since she now has the diamond ring I got paired with her now. This is still my Emory, not the known vigilante that I've been hunting for years. 

"No. I'm okay." I smile at her. 

"So... the handcuffs are still for in the bedroom and not for arresting me right?" She asks, smiling as she slowly pulls me towards our room. It's only then that I realize how painfully hard I am.

"Please stop talking. My dick is hard and I'm so confused as to why." Emory laughs at my statement, stopping in her tracks as she snorts, doubling over from her laughter. "This isn't funny Em! I'm conflicted!"

As she calms down she looks up at me with lust filled eyes. "At least you know that I don't entirely hate you for all the times you shot at me." She shrugs casually and walks into the room leaving me standing there in shock, her hips swaying a little more. 

Then it hits me. Some of the nights that we had the greatest sex— it was right after I had a shootout with the Furies. She would jump me the minute we were both home and my god—

"Don't you dare start without me, sweets!"

Taglist: (tagging those who might interested, join the taglist to keep being tagged or to be tagged next time) @mamachasesmayhem @eternalsams @sarahsmi13s @hookslove1592 @sailor-aviator @callsign-magnolia @goldenseresinretriever @callsigns-haze @some-lovely-day @buckysteveloki-me @bradleybeachbabe @lovinglyeternal @footprintsinthesxnd @ohtobeaspettyasleah @untoldshortsofthefandoms

Mama may's Everything tags: @aviatorobsessed @callsigncurse @teacupsandtopgun @trickphotography2 @thedroneranger @sweetwhispersofchaos @capoteera @hardballoonlove @buckysdollforlife @kmc1989 @seresinhangmanjake @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @lynnevanss @jynxmirage @na-ta-sh-aa @whatislovevavy @dingochef @dempy @dckweed @just-in-case-iloveyou @tgmreader @djs8891 @marvelousnightjengale @soulmates8 @sorchathered

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

There's Nothing I Wouldn't Do

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia x Nadia Garcia (OC)

A/N: I wrote this to go along with a series being written by mayhemmanaged and cassmitchell called Gunpowder & Lead! Update as of 01/31/2024: This story is no longer connected to anything being written by the two accounts mentioned above. They are reworking this story. This is MY HARD WORK AND EFFORT and I will not be deleting it just because this character is no longer included in their story.

The character of Attie Blake is @dakotakazansky's. Fern belongs to @desert-fern. Obviously all of the Daggers are the property of Paramount. The only characters who are mine are Nadia 'Nova' Garcia and Alex.

Disclaimers:Female!Reader, and all the warnings below!

Warnings: Abuse, Recovery from Abuse, Assault

As a reminder, everyone’s experiences are different. Everyone’s experiences are valid. This is a fictional story.

My Masterlist

It’s just past noon on a sleepy Wednesday in Austin, Texas. The afternoon sun beats hot against my face. I grab onto the hood shrouding my features and tug it up a bit higher to make sure nobody can see me. You see, I’m not supposed to be here. The only reason why I am is the baby boy in the carrier strapped to my front. Alex. My son and the only good thing I have in my life. 

So why am I standing in front of a tiny flower shop named Hera's Orchard in one of Austin’s winding streets of small businesses with my baby in my arms and everything important to me in a bag at my side? There's a rumor, a rumor floating around on the dark web talking about this place. Rumor says that if you walk in and ask if they have any asphodel in the back, they'll help you, no questions asked.

I inhale deeply, trying to breathe despite my bruised, aching ribs and broken nose. I have to do this. For Alex, there's nothing I wouldn't do. I can take any and everything Arthur, my husband, lays on me. But the minute he turned his hand on our son, I'd had enough. The bruised ribs and broken nose, they're what I'd gotten for standing in his way. They're also the final straw. The tiny bell above the door jingles and as I walk in, the humid air stinks of soil and the heady perfume of the thousands of blooming flowers lining the walls. I feel a little bit like I've walked into a jungle. But automatically, instantly, it feels a bit easier to breathe.

Alex seems to like being in Hera's Orchard too, his chubby little hands grasping for the bright colors he can see even as his big eyes go wide at the onslaught of new sensations. I cuddle him closer, kissing his downy head before boldly forging my way to the counter I can see in the back.

There's a sign on the petal strewn countertop, proclaiming, "Ring the Bell for Service! Someone will be out shortly!" Right beside the sign is a bronze bell, like the kind they have on hotel concierge counters. I press it just once, and then have to drag a few petals from Alex's little fingers. If I hadn't caught them, they would've gone right into his mouth.

"Buddy. Alex! No, honey. Those do not go in your mouth." My son is ever vocal, babbling very seriously back at me. I'm having an oh, so serious conversation with my baby when an amused mock cough catches my attention. While I was conversing with Alex, someone walked out from the back and came to stand behind the counter. 

She's beautiful, her shoulder length brown hair is tied up into a knot at the back of her head and green eyes bore right through me. She's small and slight, but when she folds her arms across her chest, the muscles bulge with hidden strength.

"Hi, welcome to Hera's Orchard. I'm Fern, how can I help you today?" I can't hide my nerves as I slide the hood off, finally revealing my face to Fern. Her piercing eyes soften, seeing the bruises rising up vividly across my face.

"Hi, Fern. I'm Nadia," I make Alex wave with his little hand, "and this little guy is Alex. I read online that you just got a shipment of some rare asphodels into the store? I was hoping to purchase one as a gift." My throat is dry as I catalog the expression on her face. Fern's serious and stern. The sweet, slightly goofy grin she'd leveled at Alex just moments before is gone.

"Come with me." I grab my bag and follow her into the back. "Hey Charlie! Can you take over in the front? I've got a consult on a custom flower arrangement here!"

Charlie, a teenage boy, thin and gangly with the wildest curls I’ve ever seen, levels Fern with a lovestruck expression before walking out to man the counter. I know what he's so struck by. Have you ever been in a room with someone and been captivated by them? That's Fern's energy, from head to toe. I follow her into a small, plant covered office. Just as we sit down, Alex begins whimpering and gumming at my fingers.

"Sorry, he's hungry. D'you mind if I nurse him while we chat?" I can't believe I'm asking a stranger this question. Arthur would cut me down on the spot if he knew. Per his rules, babies are to be bottle fed only when other people are present.

"Of course. Feed the little guy. Take your time. I take my custom arrangement consultations very seriously." Her smile is soft as I situate Alex at my breast, heaving in as deep a breath as I am able as he begins to nurse hungrily. 

"Now that he's eating, do you want to tell me a little bit about the person you'd like to gift this special arrangement to?" Fern's got a little sketchpad in front of her and she begins to sketch bloom after bright bloom as I explain what I'm looking for.

"So, you're looking for an arrangement that is subtle and beautiful to gift your husband?" There's something dangerous in Fern's eyes as she uses a knife to cut the sketch free and hand it to me.

"Yes.” I trace over the thin wispy lines of the sketch, before murmuring, “This is beautiful. How soon can you have it ready?" 

I can't believe I'm doing this. Can I poison my husband? That’s the catch about Hera’s Orchard. It is a flower shop, one that has rave reviews and an ever growing list of clientele, but it’s true clientele is a bit shadier than housewives who want a fresh bouquet for their dinner table. ‘Asphodel’ is the key word in those situations. 

"Come with me." Rather than answer my question, she leads me to a small doorway in the back of the shop. She unlocks it with a key and grabs my bag. With Alex in my arms, I walk through the door, pausing only so Fern can latch the door behind us. Fern stops at the end of the passageway, knocking on the door. A small window opens, looking us over before the door opens and we're let through. 

"This, Nadia, is the Underworld. This is Persephone and Songbird. They run this place and are my closest friends." The women I see arrayed before me are beautiful and strong. Are they the salvation I've been looking for? Can they save Alex, and by extension me, from more suffering?

"Hey, Bruiser!" It's Persephone, her tone musical even as she wiggles her fingers at Alex. "What's up, Buttercup?"

"Seriously, Seph?" Fern's disgust at the nickname is palpable but I can tell it's a play at disgust more than the real deal. "This is Nadia Wilson. She walked into the Orchard looking for an asphodel."

Those seem to be the magic words. Before I can blink, I'm pulled to a table with Fern on my right and both of the other women in the room seated before me.

"I'm Persephone," Her voice is soft as she looks at me with Alex snoozing in his baby bjorn after his lunch. "Bruiser mentioned that you needed some help?"

At my confused look, she's quick to assure me, "Hey, you can talk openly here. We've got the entire Underworld locked down. Nothing leaves this room. I can assure you of that fact. We got the best hacker we know to build our anti surveillance gear."

As much as that intrigues me, if only because I just built an anti-surveillance setup myself,  I desperately need their help more. So I let the whole tale spill. How I emigrated to Texas as a young girl and taught myself how to code. How I'd fallen in love with the green beauty of the city and the hills surrounding it. But sadly that wasn’t all I’d fallen in love with. Arthur Wilson had swept me off of my feet. He seemed like a gorgeous man who had money and seemed to adore everything about me. So I hadn't hesitated when he asked me to marry him.

"Alex," you explain to the women, "is the only reason why I’ve stayed in my marriage for as long as I have." 

My breathing is ragged as I stare at the wall behind their heads. "Arthur, my husband, has hated Alex since before he was born. My husband hated how my body changed with the baby. He hates how I'm not back to my pre-baby weight or body type yet. So he takes it out on me." 

"At first it was just with his words. A probing comment here, a harsh word there. Then he started hitting me. I worked so damn hard to lose weight, to go back to what I looked like before, and it still wasn't enough. He's been hitting me more and more frequently."

"Then to top it all off, there is something else too. He's been cheating on me, I know he has. I've found red hairs on his clothes and he stinks of a perfume that's not what he buys me and insists I wear. But I could stand all of that. Last night, he tried to hit Alex. He's only three months old!" Your voice breaks and a tear slips down your cheek as you sob the words out. "He's just a baby, after all. Babies cry!"

"I can't let him hurt my baby. I can't live like this. Not anymore. Please help me. Please." My broken tones echo in the room around me as I make pleading eye contact with Persephone and Songbird in turn.

"Of course we'll help you, sweetheart! We're the Furies. It's what we do." I can't help my sobs as I let myself fall apart at their words.

3 weeks later

I wasn’t sure what to expect as the outcome from that first meeting at the Underworld, not at all. But whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t this. It’s 3 AM and red and blue lights blanket the front lawn of the suburban home I shared with my husband up until a few hours ago. That’s when I’d come downstairs with Alex in my arms and found Arthur and his newest side-piece, the red-head whose hairs I’d noticed on his suits, dead on the lounge chair in his study in various stages of undress. Like any dutiful wife, I’d screamed until our housekeeper found me and stayed by her side until the police arrived.

My pain and fear are all too real. Since I met with Persephone, Songbird, and Bruiser, it seems like Arthur turned all of his attention on me. I’ve been under a microscope ever since. He’s added a potentially broken wrist, two black eyes and a twisted ankle to the broken nose and bruised ribs I had the day I’d left Hera’s Orchard with a gorgeous flower arrangement under my arm. So the tears I cry as I clutch Alex to my chest in front of the sweetest Police Sergeant I’ve ever met are real. His face has been continually distressed since he first found me and I can’t believe how good he makes me feel.

“Sergeant Mickey Garcia,” he’d said, smiling at me as I tried to settle Alex from when the baby had been startled awake at the sirens of what seemed like the entirety of the Austin Police Department spilled onto our front lawn. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

I’d stammered back my own greetings and let him lead me into the kitchen.

“C-can you tell me what happened?” He’d blushed crimson when I tried nursing Alex to get him to settle down. His face had only grown more and more serious the more I spoke. I found myself spilling the entire tale to him, captivated by the curls spilling over his forehead. 

“Sergeant Garcia,” his superior, a man with arresting green eyes and dark blonde hair calls Mickey over to him. All night I’ve been getting appraising looks from the men of APD. Either I look like shit with a squalling baby in my arms or they’re trying to figure out if I have the courage to turn black widow on one of the Police Department’s biggest donors. I do, but they won’t ever know. I look like a beaten down, broken woman, but I’m far from it. I’m a professional woman. I build custom computers and security protocols for corporations around the world. It’s my true passion and calling, one which Arthur had never cared to know about.

As Mickey briefs his superiors, the looks I get go from being evaluating to pitying. I know I look a sight, bruises turning blue and green on my tan skin and with bags so dark under my eyes they’re purple. Add to that my pajamas, bedhead, and a squalling baby and I’ve successfully slipped under APD’s radar. They’re sure to have pulled the security footage, the footage my paranoid husband always had recording, by now, the footage which shows me asleep in my bed or sleep-walking to Alex’s room when my collicky baby wakes me up in the middle of the night. Alex is a sleeping weight against my chest before Sergeant Garcia walks back to me.

“We’re going to get you into an ambulance Mrs.Wilson and get you and Alex to the hospital and check out. If you’d like, we can call someone to come stay with you while you’re there and who can take care of Alex while we wait?” His voice sounds like sex and smoke. Were I not so recently a widow and not so injured to boot, I would have jumped him on the spot.

“Yes, I have someone I can call. I’d like to change and grab a bag for Alex if I can first though?” At his nod, I limp my way upstairs, putting together a bag for Alex before handing the Sergeant both the bag and Alex at his insistence. Arthur never once held Alex like that. When I step out of the bedroom in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, Alex is happily drooling against Sergeant Garcia’s chest and he looks too comfortable for this to be the first time he’s holding a baby.

“Wow.” My voice is quiet. “This is not the first time you’ve held a baby, is it Sergeant?”

His chuckle is bashful and shy. “No, actually. My sister in Miami has three kids. I’ve held them all.”

“D’you have any babies of your own, Sergeant?” I don’t know why I’m asking that question, not now of all times.

“No, I don’t. But I’ve always wanted to.” He clears his throat before helping you into the ambulance and handing Alex to you. “Now let’s get you in touch with who you wanted to call. Who’d you like to call?”

My voice is all fire as I say, “Attie Blake. She’s a friend and my lawyer.”

4 months later

Arthur’s sister and mother had put up a perfunctory fuss when they found out he was dead, accusing me of murdering him and any other depraved things that came to his mind. They even tried to sue me. But even their high paid team of lawyers couldn’t stand up to Atlas Blake. With Attie’s help, I managed to win the case and secure all of Arthur Wilson’s fortune into a trust fund for his son. Mickey’s been by my side ever since as well. It was almost too easy to fall in love with him. Especially when I saw how easy it was for him to accept Alex as a part of the package deal. Mickey helped me scope out the location so I could buy the small shop near Hera’s Orchard which I made into a net-cafe and officially introduced me to Birdie Floyd and Emory Seresin, who I only knew so far as Songbird and Persephone.

Since then, my life has never been better. The Furies are the closest friends I have, and the shop, named Daedalus’ Automata, is the perfect place for me to do my thing. What’s my thing, you ask? Before my marriage, before Arthur demanded a trophy wife, I was in cyber security. Give me any network and a computer and I could tell you how secure the network is and at least four ways that I could make it better. I also make custom computers and anti-surveillance hardware. It’s how I continued making money under Arthur’s nose. Now, it’s how I’ve been paying back the Furies for helping me. I keep any mentions of the Furies out of the internet and away from the Task Force’s attention. The best part is how Mickey doesn’t care when I come home smelling like grease with Alex in my arms. How I wish I’d met Miguel Garcia first. 

It’s late when I stagger through the front door late on a Friday night. It’s date night and I’m so late that I’m sure any excuses I have will be flimsy at best. Mickey had grabbed Alex from Daedalus when he got off of his shift, so I don’t have the baby with me when I walk through the door. The entire house is filled with the most delicious scent, and as I look at my watch, I know I’m at least an hour late for dinner.

“Mickey?” My voice is soft as I toe my shoes off and walk through the house. “I’m sorry I’m late, vida. I had this absolute wreck of a computer get dropped off for repairs.” In part that’s true, I did have a wreck of a computer dropped off for repairs. But that’s not why I’m late. The Furies were running an op tonight, one for which I was on comms, making sure my girls were safe as they were running around doing what they do best. I walk through the kitchen, my heart dropping at the sight of the candles on the dining table, the wax nearly melted away.

“Mickey?” My voice drops to a whisper when I walk into the study and see all of my computer screens fired up, filling the entire room with their cool blue light. On the screen flash three dossiers, my own, Fern’s and Ranger’s in addition to the blueprints for the facility we hit tonight. It was a strict information gathering op, but so important. How could I have been so stupid that I hadn’t locked that information down before I left this morning?

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do, amor.” I’ve never heard Mickey sound so serious. “I love you, and I promise I’m not angry, just worried. Tell me what’s going on.”

I can’t resist melting into his embrace, inhaling the musky warm scent of his cologne as he squeezes me tight.

“I love you, Miguel. I just need to have you sign something first. Then I promise I’ll tell you everything.” Then I reach for my phone and speed dial Attie. 

“Hey Attie, I’m going to need an NDA here.” I can’t help looking at Mickey over the next half an hour we wait in the kitchen. I’m puttering around nervously, barely able to stomach the stew Mickey made while I finished up at the shop. Mickey’s not much better. He eats too, but he keeps stealing these searching glances of me, and the tension enveloping our small kitchen is nearly too much to bear. He tries to speak a few times but each time, stops short. I can’t help wondering what this means for us, for Alex who already has heard us both refer to Mickey as dad or daddy.

It’s the doorbell ringing which startles me out of the pensive way I’ve been glancing into Mickey’s eyes. It’s Attie at the door with Bradley right behind her.

“Hey Nova.” She’s smiling, which should provide me with a sense of relief. But I can’t help the dread pooling in my gut or the bad portents which my mind is constantly bombarding me with.

“Hey, Attie. C’mon in.” I hug her for a few minutes before leading her and her six-foot shadow into our kitchen.

“Hey, Roos.” Mickey sounds exhausted and I can’t believe it’s because of me. “So you’ve been read into what the girls are doing too?”

It breaks your heart when he folds into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and runs his fingers through his curls. 

“How bad is it, Bradshaw?” At Bradley’s lack of response, I can see Mickey’s jaw tighten and worry cloud his features even more.

“It’s alright, Mickey.” It’s Attie who takes control of the situation. “Read over this, sign it, and then Nova and I will tell you what’s going on.”

Mickey gives the document a cursory look over, scrawling his signature where required before pushing it to Attie and leveling me with one of his intense panty dropping looks. It’s with my heart in my throat that I let the whole tale of my introduction and involvement in the Furies spill. Anger glints in his eyes as I finish. 

“I need a drink. Whiskey, Roos?” He can’t even look at me. I understand needing a bit to process, but Mickey’s never processed like this before. Please let him understand. Please let this not be the end. I share a scared look with Attie before standing to grab a tumblr for her, too. I don’t drink, not a drop, and while I’ve never minded Mickey or our friends drinking, tonight the sight of the alcohol slipping down his throat just fills me with dread. Maybe it’s residual PTSD from Arthur, who’d beat me if he got too drunk, but it’s just as likely to be the tense situation I’ve found myself in. 

“So where do we go from here?” Mickey’s looking right at me as he says the words. “I know you know this, amor, but I’m on the task force hell bent on finding Persephone and the Furies. To stop them. How can I protect my family? The woman I love, the woman I wanted to ask to marry me tonight, when she’s on the other side of the work I’ve devoted my life to?”

My smile is tremulous as I launch myself into his arms. Relief floods my veins, maybe this isn’t the end!

“You wanted me to marry you, Miguel?” I can’t hide my sobs as I bury myself into his skin. His arms are strong and secure as they automatically wrap around me.

“Course, amor. I’ve wanted to ask you to marry me since the day I met you.” I can’t help the clumsy, salty, kiss I press to his lips. “I’ve wanted you and Alex from first sight. This doesn’t change anything, not between you and me. It’s going to change everything at work, though.”

I get lost kissing Mickey for several more long moments, until the baby monitor on the counter chirps, spilling Alex’s cries into the room.

“I’ll get him,” I murmur in Mickey’s ear. “Attie will join me. Talk to Bradley, vida. He knows, so does Bob.”

Attie’s a silent shadow behind me as we walk into the nursery and I change the baby’s diaper.

“It’s going to be okay, Nov. The entirety of Mickey’s loyalty is with you and this little guy. They’ll figure out a way to keep us safe. And we’ll do our part to keep them safe too.”

Mickey looks relieved when I walk downstairs once Alex is back to sleep. It’s looking at his face and the home that we’ve made together that I make a vow I’ll keep if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll protect my fiancé, protect his friends and protect our son. If someone finds out about the Furies, it won’t be because of me. Nobody I love will ever get hurt again, not if I can stop them. 

It’s that righteous vision that fills my veins when Mickey and I get married in a small courthouse ceremony a few weeks later surrounded by our friends. It’s a hurried engagement, but necessary, especially since spousal immunity can only help when in our situation. He adopts Alex too. Attie checked, Mickey adopting Alex does not void the Wilson trust fund. Things seem to smooth between Mickey and I. Our two week honeymoon in Miami is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. Not to mention, the most time I’ve spent naked in one stretch. Mickey didn’t let me out of bed for the first 48 hours we were there. 

When we get back, life sinks into its own balanced pace. My new normal, punctuated by the gorgeous solitaire diamond on my left ring finger, is full of promise. But as things pick up and I start hearing more and more about a new king-pin taking over Austin, the more I worry about what’s to come. But I’m able to put my worries aside for the most part, staying vigilant. I do what I can to help the cause, sending the young boys and girls who need help to Cora’s Bakery down the street for pomegranate scones. After all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and that’s all of us. It’s why we do what we do.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@dakotakazansky @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @desert-fern @sarahsmi13s @hisredheadedgoddess28 @roosters-girl @roostette @bobby-r2d2-floyd @footprintsinthesxnd @genius2050 @angelbabyange @djs8891

[desert-fern]

Bruised Black and Blue - A Former Gunpowder and Lead Extra

Specific Warnings for this blurb: murder, shouting, making of poisons, guns, blood, poisoning, physical violence, swearing (expect this in all of my stuff tbh)

Paring for this piece: OC Fern “Bruiser” Spades X Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Notes from the author: This fic belongs to an alternative timeline of a fic that is currently being rewritten by the original authors. BUT FERN’S CHARACTER IS MY OWN AND I REFUSE TO DELETE MY HARD WORK

===

Constantly looking over one’s shoulder got exhausting quickly. The CIA offered a million and one perks, but unfortunately for them, being thrust head first into cartels, trafficking rings, mercenary groups, while simultaneously rubbing elbows with some of the most vile people in the world, was not how I imagined spending my life.

So I decided to leave Langley and planned to never look back. But I was dragged from my thoughts by my former handler. “Agent Spades.”

“Sir.” Grant, or whatever he called himself, was watching me closely. “And it’s former agent now.”

He nodded. “Ms. Spades then. Are you certain that I can’t convince you to stay?”

“I’m afraid you can’t.”

The man before me grit his teeth, his jaw so tight I thought it would snap off of his face. “I’m sure we have some more local work that may interest you.”

I smirked. Typical CIA, loosely veiling an order as a suggestion. “Afraid not. I gave most of the life I have lived to you and the organization. I’m out. Besides, Operation Nightshade got me thinking about the simple life.”

Obviously, Grant didn’t like my answer, but I didn’t care. I had spent most of my adult life working for an organization that required blind trust, blind faith that the decisions made by those on high were done for the greater good. However, losing most of my team while running a false flag operation opened my eyes to the reality that the CIA never cared about us. We were always going to be pawns to the organization, and I couldn’t live that life anymore.

===

A year and a half later, I found myself in Austin, Texas living with the man of my dreams, a man named Oscar Moreno. A good, kind man, who worked a 9-5 office job, lived in a two-storey house in the suburbs, a man who cared deeply for me. I loved him, if it wasn’t obvious. We had a dog, a hound that I named Andy, and I could see myself spending the rest of my life in this bliss. I worked in a small boutique downtown as a saleswoman and it was so different from everything I knew. We lived in a bubble, a bubble that I never wanted to pop.

But of course something changed. Maybe it was because I wasn’t used to simple, or maybe it was because I had feigned suburban life many times while working for the CIA that his behaviour started to seem like it was all an act.

I started noticing cupboards that had once opened were now locked or in the case of the middle drawer of the living room bookcase, completely sealed. Oscar started leaving the room to take phone calls, unable to look me in the eye when he told me that it was nothing. He had also started spending more and more time in his office, the door that was once always open to me, now locked tight, even when he wasn’t home. Andy had started growling when he came close to me, whimpering and following close whenever Oscar made a sudden move.

Then Oscar started staying out later and later, sometimes not coming home until 9-10 pm, despite his office shutting down at 6 every day. He’d started taking weekend trips too; not coming back until late Sunday night and he would refuse to answer my questions, sometimes shouting at me to drop it. So I did, but my brain had taken hold of these abnormalities like a dog with a bone and no amount of his aggravated “I’m fine” or “Don’t worry about it” convinced me to let it go.

Either he was cheating, which I doubted, because I would have found something by now, or he was what I had been. A spy for someone, some country, corporation, or crime lord that wanted something. Or I was just paranoid, which was possible. The constant looking over my shoulder that I had hated while operating for the CIA had come back the longer I stayed in that house in the suburbs and I was growing worried.

A year and a half later, Oscar had proposed with a ring that I knew cost far more than he should have been able to afford. His behaviour had settled down a little but I knew he was still hiding things from me. If the locked office door or three separate phones didn’t give that away, then the tripwire in his office and the ink packages in his desk drawers definitely did.

The drawers hid file after file on customs agents at the Austin airport, ID badge templates, building blueprints, and 3D printing guides for weapons pieces. “I guess I was right to be concerned.” I had told all of this to Grant, who said plainly that the CIA didn’t conduct operations on American soil. I had scoffed at his lie and hung up, determined to figure this out on my own.

I had run false flag operations before and they had all started out like this. The realization hurt me deeply. All I knew was that the last three years of my life had been a lie, that Oscar, the man I loved, was all in this to achieve his mission. His betrayal stung like hell, and I remember leaving his office exactly how I had found it, just as Oscar had come bursting through the front door. It was like watching a tornado race through the house as he dug through a few drawers to grab things I couldn’t make out, stuffing them in his pockets. Then, like clockwork, he disappeared into his office.

Only this time, he shouted for me. “Fern!”

“Yes, honey?”

“Come here.” And if those words didn’t send my heart plummeting down, down, down into my ass, I didn’t know what would. I had to tread carefully. I knew more than I should in this moment and that made me dangerous.

I swallowed. “Give me a sec, okay?”

“No. Now.”

Shit. Oscar had never demanded anything of me before.

“Fern!”

“Coming!” I hurried up the stairs to his office, towel in hand to make it look like I had been in the middle of something instead of standing in the hall, staring up the stairs. “Jeez Oz. What’s going on?”

His face was pinched as he watched me come stand in the doorway. “Cut the shit. Where is it?” Oscar was angry. I had never seen him like this, red in the face, the brown eyes that I had grown to love were filled with an emotion I had never seen on him.

This time the confusion that spread over my face was real. “What are you talking about, honey? I don’t come in here. You made that clear, and I respect your space.”

“My flash drive.” He stepped closer, hand dipping into his coat pocket and grasping hold of something. “The green one.”

I didn’t want to find out what he had in the pocket. Not if I wanted him to think I had no idea what he was planning. “Honey? You’re scaring me.” I added a little wobble to my voice, trying to sell the fear as I took a step backwards.

Oscar sighed, hand leaving his pocket to rub at his face. “I didn’t mean to do that, okay? I’m just stressed out. I’m sorry, mi vida.”

I just nodded, not trusting a word that left his mouth. “I know,” I mumbled, wringing the towel in my hands. “I’ll go start dinner.” The door shut the second I turned to head downstairs, the lock clicking shut seemed to echo down the hall, and I found myself tearing up. “Keep it together, Fern,” I mumbled to myself. “He’s just a man. A stupid, stupid man. After this, you’re done with men.”

Dinner was silent. The only noises being the clinking of silverware against our plates and the music playing softly from the kitchen. Then Oscar disappeared again, leaving me by myself downstairs, alone with my thoughts. All I could think about was stopping him. This man, Oscar, wasn’t who I had thought he was. He changed. Scoffing, I pulled my ring off, throwing it at the wall and watched it bounce under the fridge. Good riddance.

While Oscar slept, I sat up late, hiding in the shed in the backyard, carefully mixing a cocktail of poison that would burn as it entered the bloodstream. It was designed for a tortuous death and even worse, it was of my own design. The CIA trained me far too well for me to ever live a normal life.

Other vials I filled with water and, with a gas mask on, very carefully painted on melted thallium until the vials were shiny with the metal. Enough of it absorbed through the skin could kill quite quickly, and I had plans. I stored them carefully in a bag before slipping into bed.

When he got up earlier than usual the next morning, I waited until I heard the front door shut before I jumped out of bed and grabbed my keys and shoes, following him a few minutes later. The bag of poison sat under my seat, while my gun was concealed in the pocket of my hoodie. I was ending this today.

Oscar had gone everywhere except work that day. He went to the bank, where I saw him take a large amount of cash out from the ATM, then to the dry cleaners where he left with a suit bag that was definitely not his. I tailed him to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, parking far enough away so as to not be spotted, yet close enough to make my getaway.

I found him and four other men huddled around, pulling on what looked like security uniforms as they spoke in Portuguese, finalizing the details of their plan. Lucky me, I got there right on time to stop them before they decided to do something stupid. Unfortunately, Oscar looked up at that moment and found himself staring me dead in the face. “Mi vida, what are you doing here?” His voice was hushed, like he was trying to hide what he was saying from the others, two of which had guns trained on me.

“I could ask you the same. Joaquin.”

The colour drained from his face as anger burned in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I think you know.” My gun was sitting in the pocket of my hoodie, reachable, but I would need a fucking miracle to get to it quickly. “You thought you could hide this shit from me?”

Oscar - Joaquin - stared at me. “You took it!” He bellowed, hand coming up to slap me across the face.

He didn’t make contact. No, I caught his hand in my gloved one and pulled him close, my gun now muzzle-first against his neck. “Yeah. I did. False flag operations usually require a little more planning than just this. Who’s the handler?”

Nothing.

“I’ll kill him and then all but one of you, who will die painfully,” I threatened, waving the gun around and watched one of the men before me slowly put his gun on the floor. “Good boy.”

“I’ll kill you!” The man I knew as my fiancé had begun ranting, cursing me out in Portuguese. “I swear to God, I will kill you and bury you so deep that no one but the spiders and worms will find you!”

The last threads on my resolve snapped. The persona I had embodied too many times on missions came roaring back, and I backhanded Joaquin across the face before kicking him in the chest with my booted foot. “Who. Is. Responsible?”

“I’m not telling you.”

Well then. I grabbed his shirt with one hand, pressing my gun to his forehead, before repeating myself. “I have no qualms with putting a bullet in every joint of yours, so try again.” The look on my face was blank, emotionless. The Ghost eyes, a colleague had called them.

“No.”

Fine by me. I pulled the vials from my pocket, tossing them to each man around me. “I am going to give you boss this,” I wiggled the clear liquid, allowing each man to watch it slosh against the sides. “And one of you is going to tell me what you have planned, and I’ll consider telling you which one is the antidote.”

“Fern!” Joaquin was yelling now, head thrashing side to side as I popped open the vial and poured it down his throat as he lay there twisting under me. The shouts turned into coughing and gagging, and when I removed my foot from his chest, he rolled over, fingers going down his throat, trying to throw up whatever I had given him.

“So? What’ll it be?”

The smallest man in the room immediately began explaining. He told me what the target was, what they had planned, who had ordered it. He told me everything, before collapsing. He and the others had caught the thallium coated vials, the toxin seeping into his skin as he had stood there.

None of the vials had been an antidote, they were realizing this now.

And after one fell, so did the others, each falling unconscious from the amount of thallium that coated each little glass container. Each man would remain there, a bullet passing through each of their temples, silencing them forever. Ever the diligent agent, not a bullet remained at the scene, those I would bury in my flower bed at home, where they would never be found.

Joaquin though, he was still alive. For now. No one except me knew the ingredients of what I had given him and it would stay that way. His voice was nothing more than a gurgle, yet still full of pain so deep that it took every fibre of his being to creep closer to me.

Too bad he wouldn’t ever leave the building. I made sure of that.

===

Months afterwards, I had rebuilt my life in Austin. It took a while, but eventually I was able to open a flower shop that I proudly named Hera’s Orchard. I worked 10-5, putting together bouquets, boutineers, and the like for weddings, events, prom, and just because. It was exactly the life I wanted for myself after the CIA. After Oscar.

I didn’t dwell on him for too long. He had lied the entirety of our relationship, the exact details were still unclear to me, but for once in my life, I was okay with that. He would only be a blip on the radar that was my life, so inconsequential that his name wouldn’t register.

Three weeks after opening, I hired my first and only three employees, Charlie, Mavis, and Lori. Charlie, I could tell, had a huge crush on me. Why I had no idea, but it made me chuckle on the odd night when my house was too quiet with just me and Andy. We were a small florist’s shop, and we got nowhere near enough traffic to require more people than that. And it worked for us.

There was, of course, a back room that was off limits. I told my employees that it was a special climate-controlled environment that required minimal handling and were plants that I had specially ordered. However, this was only a portion of the truth. The special plants were those that produced very dangerous poisons, some of which, when distilled down, were untraceable when combined with others.

It was a hobby of mine. Simple as that.

Plants were simple, but the concoctions they brewed were anything but. It added a new layer to the life I had built for myself and it thrilled me to no end. I built a lab in the basement of the house Oscar had left me. There, I spent my evenings and weekends playing around with different mixtures, testing theories and my own limits. It made it hard not to think about Oscar - Joaquin - some days. His death had been full of agony; a deep, writhing, biting pain that had snaked through his veins, lighting up every nerve ending in his body and it had been my final gift to him. A final thank you for a waste of three perfectly good years.

The relationship might have been fake, but his will wasn’t and neither was his life insurance. So I guess it did all work out in the end.

My creations sat there, gathering dust. Just like I was. I craved excitement, and for the first time, I found myself missing my old job. I had grown complacent, set in my ways. I had to change that before it would be the death of me.

Across the street from my flower shop sat a cute little bakery called Cora’s. I knew from Mavis that the cinnamon donuts were worth killing over, and from my observation, it was frequented by a lot of women. Not that that was anything of note, but after a few months of being open, I had noticed the pattern of women who seemed to shrink in on themselves as they walked in the doors, only to leave minutes later with a coffee cup and something that most of them stuffed into a pocket.

Well, consider me interested. Something was afoot.

I began my own investigation. Coming by every few days, making sure I didn’t have a pattern, and placing orders for my shop while inside as I sipped my drink of choice for the day. Sure I was casing the place, but I learned a lot.

The owners, a pair of women, who I came to know as Emory and Birdie, were kind but intimidating in the sense that they knew something you didn’t. Even their friend, Atlas, a local defence attorney, had the same look in her eyes, and I was immediately intrigued. I watched and waited, eventually introducing myself to the owners as the owner of the flower shop across the way, and I knew that I had an in.

One phrase seemed popular. “A pomegranate scone, please”, “Could I add a pomegranate scone to that?”, “A large coffee and a pomegranate scone.” An odd request to happen so frequently, given that the menu item didn’t exist, and whoever was behind the counter, whether that be an owner, or someone else, almost always paused before sliding something across the counter.

My interest was piqued, and one night I stayed late at the shop, watching the lights at Cora’s shut off, while a queue of people seemed to grow longer and longer by the minute, stemming from the back of the building.

Strange.

I armed myself, slipping into the queue silently before ducking inside a speakeasy. It was electrifying, especially since I had been out of the spy game for a while now, and it was like I was coming home.

I wandered through the building, taking in the musicians and the performers, watching the patrons, noting the clothing, the way they carried themselves. At this point, I caught sight of a woman I had seen at Cora’s earlier that day. One who had used the phrase. She was curled in on herself, intentionally making herself small. Markers of a woman in distress.

Slipping down the hallway after her, I watched her enter a room with four women sitting around a table. What happened there with that woman was none of my business, but she met my gaze when she left. It was full of relief, confidence, and something new that had a pep in her step. “Thank them again for me,” she whispered as she slipped past me down the hall, and I saw her exit through the back door, disappearing into the night.

Now it was my turn for an audience.

I stepped into the room, the pieces of my investigation slotting into place as I watched recognition flicker over three of the faces. Emory, Atlas, Birdie, and another woman had stood on my entrance, their faces torn between confusion, anger, and something else. Something dark lingered in the eyes of the fourth woman. “So. This is where the code gets you.”

“Fern.” Birdie’s voice was so unlike its usually chipper nature. I had intruded on something secret and she did not want me here. “What are you doing?”

“Offering my help. These women you are helping need more than a gun, or being able to smother whoever is hurting them.” There was no humour in the eyes of the usually laughing Emory. She was doing her best to pin me to the spot with her glare. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.

“You need my help,” I continued, walking up to the table. “If you really want to protect these women, as you claim to do, then you need this.” I placed a vial of my newest mixture on the table, grinning a little as they turned slightly to glance at it.

The one woman I didn’t recognize, scoffed. “Water in a little jar isn’t going to do anything for these women.” Her voice was sharp, by my guess a woman who had served her country for as long as she could, and she was clearly not a fan of me being here.

I grinned. “If that were water, then I’d be wasting all of our times. I have a specific skill set that is helpful to you and you would be wise to take me up on it.” My tone left little room for argument. I was dead-set on joining this ‘girl-gang’ of sorts. Their cause was admirable, but they needed help. “Besides. I caught you with your pants down, that isn’t a good business model.”

A look was exchanged between the trio of women, before one nodded sharply. “You are the first person to find us like this,” Atlas commented. A part of her seemed impressed, but I knew better than to believe that these women weren’t dangerous.

“And I intend on being the last. You give me a chance to ensure that these work the way I intend them to. I help you ensure that this sanctum is only penetrated by those needing our help. Do we have a deal?”

Emory smirked. “What makes you think we need you?” A typical posturing move, she was unsure and trying to compensate. If I were right, then she was a woman like the kind she helped, using her past experiences to guide her anger at the man who hurt her and channeling it into punishing the abusers, douchebags, and those who deserved it. “You said it yourself, you just walked right on in here. We have been doing just fine without you.”

“You have. I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that.” It would be stupid of me to think that they weren’t capable. I had made a career on men and even other women doubting my abilities, my intelligence. I wouldn’t make the same mistakes that those morons had. “I only think your mission could be better served if your doors weren’t so easily slipped through. You could better protect these women with my skill set in combination with yours.”

“Hmmm.”

I nodded at the vial on the table. “Give that a try. If it doesn’t yield the intended results, then we pretend this didn’t happen. I won’t say a word because I clearly know very little of what happens here. But,” I paused to meet Emory’s gaze, holding it with mine. “If it does its job, you know where to find me. Have a good night ladies.”

And just like that, I walked out of the inner sanctum of the women that I would come to know as the Furies, not looking behind me. I took a risk, a calculated one. I only had to hope that my skills were something that they deemed useful. If not, then as I promised, I wouldn’t say a word. Their mission was admirable, ambitious, but one that was important.

I got word a few days later via a basket of muffins that Emory wanted to chat with me. The basket had a phone number written in dark red pen on the little tag that hung from it, and once my staff were preoccupied with picking the ones they wanted, I stole away to call who I hoped would be a friend and ally soon.

We spoke quickly. Emory had wanted to tell me sooner rather than later that my poison had worked. That it was untraceable.

Now that surprised me.

“And,” Emory began. “We’d like to take you up on your offer of helping us ensure the safety of these women. Plausible deniability is everything in this line of work. It helps us keep them safe.”

“I sense a ‘but’ somewhere in that sentence.” My tone was light, almost humorous. I knew my work was excellent, but proof of it made my heart sing. “What’s the catch?”

Emory paused and the line went silent for a few moments. “There is an NDA. You didn’t come about joining us the usual way. We need to ensure our safety.”

“I understand that, Em. But please consider that if I wanted to harm you and the others, I could and you wouldn’t know until it was too late.” I had to make that fact perfectly clear. “But,” I continued, “I have no intention of doing do. I will sign the paperwork.”

There was a rush of air on the other end of the phone. “Good. Now, about the ad Cora’s has posted. You already know that asking for a pomegranate scone gets you help from us, do you have something you want to add?”

I hummed in thought. In truth, I had spent a long time thinking about this arrangement these women had and what my own involvement would entail. “Have them ask for a custom bouquet of asphodel and other blooms. Only I handle the custom orders.”

“Expect Atlas soon with the paperwork. Welcome to the Furies.”

===

I spent my days arranging flowers and bouquets for the good men and women of Austin, while nights I was either lurking in the darkness of the Underworld, Birdie’s speakeasy or holed up in my lab working on the latest batch of poisons that would debilitate the worst kind of man the universe could make: a coward who beat, belittled, looked down upon the woman he chose to share his life with.

A month after I had joined the ranks of the Furies, a furious ex-husband of a client stormed the speakeasy had made a run for the woman. It had taken me nothing to step in front of him, defending her. “Get out of my way bitch!” He was so drunk that I could practically taste the alcohol on his breath. Red face, twitching eyes, slight slur to his words, and half a stumble every time he took a step, it was a miracle he hadn’t passed out. “Move or… I’llmoveyou.”

Needless to say, I didn’t move. His presence in the speakeasy was a sign that things had to change some more. If one husband could come here after his wife, then the whole point of Persephone’s - Emory’s - mission was wasted. He swung at me, a wild haymaker that missed me by miles. I fired back with two quick jabs to the side, sending him stumbling into the wall. Each swing he took hit nothing but air. He was too drunk to do anything more than stand let alone throw a punch, so I kicked his ass out the door, sending him on his way with a black eye and several bruises to his abdomen.

That one night earned me the nickname Bruiser, and I found out from Birdie that the task force was very interested in how a man had had a run in with a Fury and not wound up murdered that instant. The mere thought always made me smile, especially since he was found dead a week later with fentanyl left in his bloodstream.

It was also the night I met Natasha. She had approached me after I sent that man out the door and to say I was drawn to her was undercutting the entire experience. Soft dark hair, intelligent brown eyes, and just the right amount of muscle to still appear deceptively delicate and she had her sights on me. It was electrifying being in her presence, I hadn’t been so attracted to someone since Oscar, and here she was, her hand on my bicep, eyes cutting into mine in a way that had my head spinning.

“Want to go somewhere more quiet?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, a furious blush covering my face.

Thankfully, all it did was make her grin. “Of course. Where were you thinking?”

“My shop is across the street?”

She nodded, motioning for me to lead the way. I let her into my office, sitting in my desk chair watching as she perched on the desk in front of me.

“So. Was this all a ploy to murder me, Fern?” Her question was full of teasing, but it still sent a bolt of fear down my spine.

“How do you know my name?”

She chuckled. “My best friend is married to Birdie. Bob?”

“Oh yeah. Somehow it’s easy to forget that she’s married,” I mused aloud, ignoring the bright smile on the face of the woman in front of me. “It has to be how she carries herself.”

Natasha smirked as she placed her hands on the armrests of the chair I was sitting in, my words seemingly lost between my mouth and her ears. “What do you want from me, Fern? A chat? A quick fuck?” She’d ignored the words I spoke moments earlier, choosing instead to cut past the formalities of getting to know someone.

Her bluntness made me laugh. “I just wanted to get to know you, Sargeant.” I held up her badge for her to see, grinning as she gaped at me. “You aren’t the only one with tricks.”

The room fell silent. Natasha’s presence filled the room we were in, a cloying feeling that enveloped all of my senses. It was like the summer air after a storm, thick, heavy and it made you sweat. I wanted more at the same time as parts of me wanted to leave. However, Natasha knew she had the upper hand and she didn’t waste it, ducking her head down to snare my lips in a kiss that stole my breath.

I pulled her towards me, sliding her off the desk and onto my lap, as I kissed her back, content to let her have control for the moment. When she pulled back for air, I seized the moment to trail teasing kisses across her collarbones and throat. It made me grin as I felt her breath hitch as I kissed over a spot just below her jaw. A hand gripped my jaw, steering my lips back to hers and her sigh allowed me to slip my tongue into her mouth, pulling her closer to my chest.

One of Natasha’s hands braced itself against the wall behind me, the other bracing my jaw as her clever mouth nipped and teased. I had gotten lost in the feeling of her lips on mine, that a sharp bite to my lower lip drew me back to the present moment. The same moment that this dream of a woman sat straddling my lap, kissing me. She was everything I hadn’t known I needed. Touches that sent sparks racing through my body and kisses that made my head spin. I barely knew her and yet I already knew that she would be my weakness.

I don’t know how long we sat there, making out like teenagers in my office, but it was one of the best moments of my life. Eventually, Natasha did have to leave but she stopped in my doorway, letting her eyes trail over my position in the chair as she chewed on her lower lip. It was enough to have me standing up, a card in my hand. “Next time you’re looking for a ‘chat’, Sargent, you know where to find me.”

“And if I want more?” Her dark eyes were a gleam with an unspoken challenge, and it had my blood pumping like I had just ran a marathon. “What does the infamous ‘Bruiser’ think of that, Fern?”

The grin on my lips matched the mirth in her eyes. “I don’t know, Natasha. You’ll just have to call and see.”

She plucked the card from my hand, kissed me softly once more before slipping out the front door of the shop. I watched her go, leaning against the counter, a hand pressing against my lips, mesmerized by the dark haired woman that had slid into my life so seamlessly. I hoped that she would call, that she wasn’t just a ploy used by the task force to unbalance us.

Moments later, my phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lit up to reveal a message from an unknown number: Does this count as calling? I need to see you again.

Her message made me chuckle as I typed back: I guess I can count it. Meet me at the shop tmw at 6. We can have dinner and talk.

A responding thumbs up flashed across my phone almost immediately. As I stuffed my phone into my pocket, a sinking feeling quenched the thrill that had been lodged deep in my chest. I couldn’t afford to get hurt again and I knew that Natasha would be the end of me.

Flash forward a year later

Natasha and I had been going strong for a year now and she had a difficult job, balancing me and my secrets with her duty as a police Sargeant, and I figured that it was time that she was read in on what was going on.

Except she refused. “What I do know is too much right now,” Nat told me. “My love, I want to know, don’t get me wrong. But I can’t protect you if I know everything.”

That part had confused me. “What do you mean?” We had been laying together in bed, her head pillowed on my bare chest as she curled into me. “I can protect us both.”

“I can still be called to testify against you if you are caught. I don’t want to know. Not yet.” Her voice, while soft in volume, was firm in its tone. She had risen up in her elbow to look at me and I couldn’t help but stare. She was a vision against the pale coloured sheets, her dark hair standing out as she played with my fingers, and like I had known from the start, she proved that losing her would be the end of me.

My voice stuck in my throat and it took several tries until I was able to croak out “You mean you want to wait until we get married?”

She nodded. “I do. That way, I can’t testify against you. I love you too much to put you at risk like this.” Her eyes were nervous, like she was afraid that she had said too much.

Okay. I could deal with that. “I love you too, Nat.”

===

A/N: So this is Bruisey! I had so much fun writing her story from before she was a Fury, and I hope you all enjoyed it too!

🏷️ @dakotakazansky @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @sarahsmi13s @hisredheadedgoddess28 @roosters-girl @bobby-r2d2-floyd @startrekfangirl2233 @footprintsinthesxnd @genius2050 @angelbabyange @djs8891

[stcverogers]

TOP GUN FIC RECS 5!

top gun fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over recently

this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.

F: fluff A: angst S: smut

𖥻 - series /multi part

masterlist

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

F + A: the longer that you stay, the ice is melting by @welcome-to-my-multiverse you have walls built around yourself from the hurt you had experiences in the past. jake breaks them all down.

F: dinner and domesticity by @sehnsuchts-trunken all you want after a long day at work is to spend time with jake.

F: sunshine by @call-sign-jinx you're jake's biggest secret in the best way possible.

F + A: abs sans brain by @sometimes-i-write-good you would think that the amount of time jake spends with his work friends that he'd rather spend date night with you alone

F + A: don't make the same mistake by @agentrose17 jacob seresin is a coward. to save himself the heartbreak, he runs.

F: the doll house by @honeybeedewdrops jake flew million dollar jets for a living and still couldn't build a barbie dreamhouse

A: a glimpse of us by @call-sign-jinx jake will forever be haunted by what happened years ago

F + A: who are you? + part 2 by @thewulf you move to fightertown in hopes of comfort from you aunt penny after you and your fiance break it off. in a sea full of naval aviators, you meet jake.

F: i caught you by @roosterbruiser jake will always be there to catch you

F + A: mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys) by @almostgenerallyalways you and jake have long broken up. he tries to reconnect every holiday season but you choose to ignore him. you can't quite do that when he's at your front door.

F + A: sleepy baby by @discount-shades 𖥻 if i weren't for you therapist, there was no way you'd be out late at night in a bar.

F + A: rescued + part 2 by @topgunslut you nearly drown by the beach but jake saves you

F: even if you lose it, it will find you by @lovestruckdeans though you and jake may have gone your seperate ways, you find your way back to each other.

A: what are we? by @andorskenobi four months of stringing you along and you were tired of it. you give jake an ultimatum.

F + A: perfect storms by @captainamericasmotercycle jake loves you because you're you. not because you're the admiral's daughter or whatever coyote wants to make you believe.

S: jealousy, jealousy by @seresinsbabe jealous of him and his coworker, you decide that it was your turn to make jake jealous.

F + A: i see myself with you by @penwieldingdreamer you meet jake again, this time, he dons a khaki uniform.

F: boyfriend material by @beautifultypewriter you and jake had a thing. if you were on a bad date, you'd text him and he'd show up, sweeping you away.

F: roadside assistance by @lostdreamr-blog1 your car breaks down in the middle of the road and you have no choice but to call your last resort for help.

F + A: it only feels this raw right now by @teamhappyme your time with the navy has come to an end while yours with jake is only beginning.

F: sittin' on the dock of the bay by @theloveoftoms a day on the beach with jake seresin.

F: brave by @arson-tm you are the only person jake shows his true self to.

F: your carriage awaits, sweets by @lazypeachsoul jake loved you so much. so much so that he'd willingly carry you home when you're drunk off your mind.

F: coffee for mrs. seresin? by @birdy-bat-writes jake orders your coffee for you. when your order is called, you're utterly surprised.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

F: pretty in pink by @roostersforevergirl if rooster wants to join his daughter's tea party, he must dress the part.

F + A: the parent trap by @averagewriter-inthedark you and rooster crashed and burn. despite the relationship ending, something beautiful bloomed from it. in a mutual agreement, one will grow up with you while the other rooster.

F: hold my hand by @wannabeschyulersister it's mav and penny's birthday. you somehow find yourself riding a mechanical bull.

F: bradley and the bump by @justmyheart bradley lets his girl know how much he loves his other girl.

F: beautiful by @eyesthatroll you can see glimpses of carole in bradley

F: mary's song by @risriswrites bradley bradshaw is hopelessly in love with his best friend. if only she felt the same.

F: i'm obsessed with you by @simpforrooster jake can't bear to see rooster pine over you for a single second longer

A: till death? by @cherrycola27 you meant what you said in your wedding vows that you'd love bradley till death do you part.

F: my reward by @susanripper rooster doesn't know how to tie a tie. now, you can't let that happen can you?

F: picture in my pocket by @worldofheroes if there's anyone who would understand what you feel, it's rooster

F: a little pinch by @tongue-like-a-razor it's time for your daughter to have her shots but it seems like rooster is more nervous than she is

A: trainwreck by @callsign-cree you knew that you and rooster were too good to true. it was time you finally confirmed it.

S: short stack by @spacecaravan something about you making him breakfast makes rooster insatiable for you.

S: return the favor by @sonofarathorn being a dad was a good look on bradley.

F: beautiful boy by @aestheticpearl baby bradshaw has a nightmare, something bradley can relate to too well.

F: i'm goin' for a run by @feralforfrank rooster wants to say goodbye before going on his run

F: a wedding to remember and a proposal to come by @sehnsuchts-trunken during mav and penny's wedding, you and rooster realise that maybe a wedding of your own was in the cards.

ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD

F: baby. on. board by @mymamalife baby on board has his own baby on board

F + A: one beer + just another day in paradise by @lgg5989 having a baby at a young age was not part of yours and bob's plans.

F: do we have to? by @auroradawnwrites unlike bob, all you want to do is stay home.

JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO

F: in which it’s far too cold for your liking, but Javy can think of a few ways to warm up by @spidervee

F: the waiting by @rae-gar-targaryen javy knows that you're more than capable of doing things yourself but can't he just pamper his pregnant wife in peace?

F: cancelled flights and beignets by @siempre-bucky javy's flight home is cancelled. you make beignets to cure some of his homesickness.

F: the first 'i love you' by @demxters you didn't need javy to tell you he loved you for you to know that he did. so when he finally said those three words, you weren't surprised.

NICHOLAS 'GOOSE' BRADSHAW

F: you know why by @thewhiskersonkittens it didn't matter that you had a jerk of an ex, goose proves that he's twice the man he could ever be

[ghouljams]

👉👈🥺🥺 speaking of bringing gaz to the masses May I ask for some more regency Gaz and birdie

Your hand hurts. Your knuckles are bruised and your fingers ache when you stretch them, it's a good sort of ache but that doesn't make it stop hurting. You rub your thumb over the back of your gloved hand listening to your mother berate you for something so stupid.

"In the middle of the promenade!" She continues wrapping up her hysterical point, "Never in my life have I heard of a lady acting this way." She shakes her head, the disappointment clear in her eyes. You've never exactly seen eye to eye with your mother, but you'd hope she'd have a little sympathy for your situation.

"Mama, he wouldn't leave me alone, I couldn't-"

"He was courting you!" She cuts you off, raising her voice enough that you flinch a little. Some of the wind leaves her sails at that, the anger still simmering but quieter. "And what about the man that made you into this-" she waves a hand, "-brawler, where is he to take responsibility?"

You sink further back into the settee to pout. You don't have an answer for her. You'd been so quickly ushered out of the promenade by your chaperone that you hadn't been able to give Kyle your name. Mr. Garrick, Sergeant Garrick, you correct yourself. Best not to be too familiar with a man who you'd be better pressed never to see again. It would be smart to avoid him and you try to be smart.

Maybe not smart enough though.

Your family's butler rushes in to the sitting room looking a little harried. He hardly gets out an apology for the intrusion, and an explanation that he couldn't stop "him" before your sergeant is strolling in behind him with all the air of the uniform he wears, and a proud set to his shoulders. Sgt. Garrick looks as serious as the dead, eyes scanning the room and softening when they land on you.

You sit upright, fixing your dress and patting your cheeks to be sure you aren't looking too excited to see him. If you'd hoped that the novelty of your savior would wear off after the adrenaline of your first punch was gone you were sorely mistaken. It creeps over you again stronger than the first time and you flick your fan open to try and quell some of the heat that rushes over your skin at the way he tips his head to smile at you.

"Sergeant Garrick," You greet, sure that your smile rivals only his own when he nods his head in a short bow.

"Ma'am." Oh you could melt. You mother seems less pleased.

"Is there something we can help you with sir?" She asks, lips pursed in annoyance. Your man --look at you, claiming him already, he'd be so pleased-- turns his attention to your mother.

"Just looking for my wife," He informs her. Your mother jerks her head towards you and you do your best not to meet her eye. You glance at Kyle and his smile seems all the brighter, he holds his hand out to you. "Come on then darling," He entreats.

Your mother pushes you back down into your seat when you try to stand. You try not to think too hard about the way Kyle's fingers curl and clench into a fist before his hand drops to his side. The way his smile seems a little colder when it's directed at your mother, the person standing between him and what he wants.

"You're not even courting her," Your mother so kindly reminds him, "I don't know your family, or who you-"

"Then I'm here to formally announce my intentions," He cuts her off coolly, "Sergeant Kyle Garrick," He holds his hand out to her, "I'm going to marry your daughter." Kyle tips his head towards you as your mother takes his hand with no small amount of confusion and asks you, "Any objections love?"

"I'll think of something," You smile, standing to take his arm when he finally releases your mother's hand.

"Perfect," He smiles, and you feel all the warmth of the sun turn towards you with it, "I look forward to it."

[ch4singchase]

The Ballad of Moths | LUKE CASTELLAN

Summary: A god decides to visit Hades' palace.

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death, mention of harm to children, existencial themes and emotional struggles.

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four | series masterlist

chapter 04: 'Til The Road Begins…

A solitary, timid moth fluttered through the obscure recesses and shadowy corners of the realm beneath the living world. Its intricately detailed wings, painted in dark hues of black and brown, flapped tirelessly until the delicate creature gracefully alighted on the shoulder of a looming, broad figure.

The imposing man cast a benevolent smile toward the moth, “You've done splendidly, love. You may join the others.”

Yet, the moth remained unconvinced, steadfastly maintaining its chosen perch.

Unperturbed as well, the man reassured, “I shall return to you shortly, I promise. I have matters to discuss with a... Friend.”

If the moth thought about arguing, it gave up soon. The little creature knew well enough not to argue with a god. Familiar with the god, she also understood that the man had a good reason to wish to talk with the King of the Underworld himself, alone.

So, the moth flew away, following the way where others like her would go and rest.

The god observed her departure, a heavy weight upon his heart. Despite this, he swiftly composed himself, resuming his journey into Hades’ palace.

Much of what lay within failed to awe the god; it wasn't his inaugural visit. The intricacies of the doors, portraits, columns, and rooms were familiar details he had encountered more than once.

So, once he found himself in the throne room. The man was unfazed by the black bricks and the bronze decorations, the throne made of bones didn’t take a step back and the other one made of flowers didn’t surprise him either.

It was just another day where he found himself about to have a conversation with the god of death and riches.

“It has been a long time since you gave me the grace of your presence,” Hades’ voice echoed through the room.

The death god wasn’t in his throne; instead, he was wandering around the room, right behind the space where the thrones rested, as if he had been waiting far too long for the other’s arrival.

“It’s a surprise to see you away from your duty,” the King continued, a mischievous smile on his lips. “What has happened?”

The other man crossed his arms behind his back, closing his way to Hades, “I’ve come with a concern, I was hoping you could advise me on this.”

Hades circled back, his eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. "A concern? You, my elusive friend, rarely bring forth concerns without significance. What is troubling you that warrants your visit?"

The man hesitated for a moment, the weight of the issue evident in his expression. "It involves my daughter, Eurydice.”

Hades paused, absorbing the weight of his friend’s words. The air in the room seemed to grow denser as unspoken implications lingered like a lingering mist.

“I thought she had died,” the god said, even though it wasn’t true. He was well aware the girl was alive; he would know if she had died.

The truth was that he had assumed, from the way her father never talked about her, that he had taken care of her passing.

Now, he was aware that wasn’t the case.

“I always have been intrigued about the choice of that mortal to give this specific name to your daughter,” Hades complained instead, narrowing his eyes to some of the flowers that covered his wife’s throne.

The other god sighed, that wasn’t the first time they had that talk, “She didn’t mean no harm.”

Looking back, he could remember one of the few times he visited Johanna Gaumont and their daughter. The girl was close to her 3rd birthday, already daring to take some steps by herself and pronouncing words like ‘mama’ or ‘birdie’.

Johanna had let him know how Eurydice was fond of birds lately. But that was just a phase, she told him that before, their daughter talked about leaves, fishes, and that just goes on and on and on…

In that very same time that he went to see them, she explained the reason for giving their daughter that name. The god could remember the sound of the woman’s laugh when he asked about it, his lips twisting in confusion.

“I want her to understand the circle of things, how all has its ending,” Johanna beamed down to their daughter, playing with her as she held a robin made of wood, “Eurydice once was a nymph, right? Nature understands how everything lives and then goes, and when Orpheus looked back… I believe she didn’t look at him with sadness in her eyes, but acceptance.”

His chest held a heavy weight at her words, a struggling sigh escaped from his lips, “That’s… A beautiful way of viewing their story.”

“Isn’t it?” Johanna giggled, “I want Eury to understand that same thing, to accept that one day, her friends will go away and the way fate works.”

He looked back at her, watching not sadness, but gratification fill her beautiful blue eyes.

“You know,” she continued, taking his silence as a reason to continue, “One day I’ll go away as well, and I don’t want her to hold on grief, all the sadness that there is when we talk about the end.”

Hades' adamantium eyes brought the god back to their conversation. The pounding in his heart weakened by the mere memory.

“Right, right,” the King nodded, a bitter smile in his lips. He still wasn’t convinced that the mortal didn’t name her daughter that name in spite of who they were- him and the father of her daughter, “What about you daughter? She has already reached her teenage years, right?”

The god sighed, the weight of his concerns evident in his eyes. "Yes, she has. And it's precisely that which troubles me. She's already veering toward the path of that prophecy... I don’t want her ensnared in our potential downfall."

The King of the Underworld paced a few steps, his gaze fixed on the intricate patterns of the throne room floor. An intriguing expression played across his face as he mumbled, "Well-chosen words, my friend." He concealed his uncertainty about how to proceed, then asked, "You're referring to the cursed blade, aren't you?"

The other man nodded, feeling a momentary absence without the comforting presence of his moths by his side. To tell the truth, of a single and specific one, “She’s walking right into the great prophecy itself, despite all my attempts to keep her far from it.”

Slowly, the god sensed the King and his friend’s steps drawing closer. The next thing he felt was a hand on his shoulder. And, in an unexpected turn from the god of death, the last thing he anticipated was a smile.

A sad smile, almost sympathetic.

“I know all too well about prophecies shaping our children’s future, friend,” Hades averted his eyes, but the other god could sense where his gaze lingered. At a hotel, a long time ago—he had seen him soon after what had happened to his own family, “Alecto told me something one day, about how we can’t interfere in the laws of death. And she wasn’t wrong. If your daughter is destined to die in that prophecy, there’s nothing you can do.”

The god didn’t seem to be happy about his friend’s answer, even if he knew that he spoke the truth.

“But,” the palace’s visitor mumbled, unsure about his own thoughts and feelings, “It doesn’t make us hypocrites to love our children but not be able to protect them from their future?”

If any other gods had posed the same question to Hades, he would have immediately expelled them not only from his palace but also from his realm. However, this was his long-time friend, a god he had known since his first days as the caretaker of the world of the dead.

They had weathered many stories together, never stepping away when things got ugly. Regardless of their beliefs, agreements, or disagreements, they always had each other's backs. No matter how much time had passed since their last conversation.

Hades would always understand his friend’s frustration, not taking his words in a negative way, because he knew exactly how that feeling was.

Disappointment. Not only with himself but with their world, their rules, the prophecies, and the many oracles that had once proclaimed them before.

“Honestly,” Hades sighed, sitting at the steps of his throne, inviting his friend to sit beside him, “Until today, I don’t have an answer to that question.”

His friend accepted the invitation, taking a seat beside him. Reflecting on the events of the past, he cast a glance at the King, “How have they been doing?”

“They’re good,” the King answered, his tone expressing how tired he truly was. Perhaps, tired just from thinking about his kids, “Alecto and the others were keeping their eyes on them until a month or two ago; now, I’ve instructed them to monitor Zeus’ daughter… I won’t let what happened to my children go unnoticed.”

It took a few seconds for the other god to grasp the full implication, “You ordered them to take her life?”

“Before you judge,” Hades turned to his friend, a fierce determination evident in his dark, coal-like eyes, “I know how it sounds. But my brother needs to understand the consequences of his choices. He has to comprehend how they affected me and continue to affect me.”

The other god lapsed into silence for a while, finding himself without much to say. The memory of that fateful day still lingered in his thoughts—the consuming rage of Hades and the tears that had flowed until the River Styx nearly flooded the entire Underworld. The past was a tangled mess, a time when they were old yet too young, too reckless.

Mistakes had been made, but the notion of plotting harm against a brother's family was beyond his comprehension. He couldn't fathom committing such an act against his own brother, regardless of right or wrong. He would never intentionally cause pain to what his brother held dear.

However, matters concerning the Big Three and the Olympians were far more complicated than the dynamics of his own branch of the family.

It was his friend's fury, his pursuit of what he deemed justice. If it was the will of fate for such events to unfold, there was little the god could do or say.

He, more than anyone, grasped the relentless cycle of life. People live, and inevitably, they meet their end—doomed to confront their fate, sooner or later. How that end manifested was not within his control.

Accepting this truth stung, but reality is what it is. And sometimes, what brings a pounding pain, even for a god.

"May I ask you for a favor?" he ventured to inquire, finally.

Hades scrutinized him with narrowed eyes, a darkness confined in his icy gaze. "Does that mean you'll be in debt to me?" he questioned.

His friend almost reconsidered but nodded, saying, "If you wish."

"Proceed then," the King urged, a hint of amusement in his tone, "you're quite full of surprises today."

"Eurydice..." The man hesitated, choosing his words carefully, "She crossed paths with Thalia, Zeus' daughter."

Hades burst into laughter.

He simply laughed—a cruel, echoing laughter that filled the entire room.

There was bitterness in it, for he knew the implications that would follow this request.

"Let me guess, you want Alecto to go easy on your daughter if she happens to be between my Furies and Zeus’ daughter," he deduced, it wasn’t a question. The King knew the meaning behind his friend’s words.

The visitor nodded solemnly, acknowledging the accuracy of Hades' deduction. The air in the room grew heavier as the implications of the favor settled between them.

Hades, still chuckling, leaned back against the steps of his throne, the dark, ethereal aura surrounding him accentuating the intensity of the moment. The god of death fixed his piercing gaze on his friend, a mix of curiosity and amusement playing in his eyes.

"You claim that Johanna Gaumont meant nothing by naming your daughter that name," Hades mused, "but the more I hear you talk about the girl, the more it feels like a subtle jab directed at me."

His friend shook his head, holding back a chuckle, “That’s not… I really doubted that she really meant anything like that. I just want to shield Eurydice from a death that it’s not destined to her.”

“Yet,” Hades completed, raising a brow at the god beside him.

Reluctant, the man saw himself nodding to that.

Hades regarded his friend with a thoughtful expression, the laughter fading from his eyes. There was a shared understanding between them, a recognition of the burdens carried by gods who had witnessed the ebb and flow of mortal lives, prophecies, and the tangled web of divine machinations.

“If your daughter tries to stop them from killing the girl…” Hades spoke, the gravity of his words settling into the shadows that surrounded them.

“All I ask is that they don't hurt her,” the god mumbled, hesitation causing his hands to tremble, “As a father, I cannot simply stand by and watch my daughter succumb to a fate not of her choosing.”

Hades nodded in silent agreement, the weight of paternal love a bond that transcended even the divine laws that governed their existence sometimes.

"I’m granting you this favor," Hades finally said, to his friend's relief, "I’ll ask them to not hurt her once I hear from them.”

The two gods sat in contemplative silence, the echoes of laughter replaced by the grim reality of their shared concerns. In the tapestry of divine existence, their roles as distant and observant parents, never able to truly intervene for the best of their children. Always having to work around, make subtle decisions that wouldn't interfere with the order of things.

Was this what it meant to be a good father? Would this be the answer to the hypocrisy of being a god and the father of a demigod?

They would never know; it always felt like they were taking two steps forward and three steps back.

“Thank you, Hades,” the god, usually followed by his moths, said, a weak smile on his face, “I mean it.”

Both of them had duties to fulfill.

“Consider it a small favor between old friends, one I may ask for in return later," Hades responded, his tone carrying a rare warmth. “Just remember, my friend, we may not have all the answers, but we must navigate the complexities of our roles as gods and fathers as best as we can.”

As the two gods rose from their seats, the shadows in the throne room seemed to sway, sensing their power shifting in the air. Fate continued to weave its threads as both of them walked to the entrance of the palace, the King keeping his friend company before parting ways.

Once they reached the doors and they were opened, a solitary moth flapped its wings as it swung its way to a single god’s shoulder. The two gods turned their faces to the being, totally unfazed by its presence among them.

“Why am I not surprised?” Hades asked to himself, lifting a brow as he viewed the moth with dark wings and brownish details.

“I could ask the same question,” his friend stated, looking down at the moth upon his shoulder.

"May your journey back to your duty be uneventful," finally, the King said, a smile persistently in his face.

With a nod of gratitude, the god made his way out of the palace, the moth accompanying him like a faithful companion. The Underworld echoed with a solemn air as he traversed the familiar paths, contemplating the weight of his conversation with Hades.

However, his thoughts were interrupted by the soft fluttering of wings, and he glanced at the moth perched on his shoulder. Its delicate movements seemed almost comforting, a silent presence in the face of uncertainty.

Hades was right, if Eurydice was truly destined to fulfill her prophecies, there was nothing he could do to stop it. All he could do was hope, even if it sounded ridiculous to a god to hope.

But, he hoped. The god hoped that his daughter was strong enough to endure more loss.

Because, by the path she was walking into, she was destined to lose more than she already had.

Taglist: @2hiigh2cry, @yhaywhwvsh, @niktwazny303

(if you wish to be add to the taglist, let me know in the comments!)

[oonajaeadira]

For the Love of Fic: December 9

I'm doing my best to get through my massive reading list by the end of the year, so buckle up, fam, you're about to get served a buffet of fic. There's so many tasty morsels here, even Mama Flores has to appreciate this feast.

🪐 = Year of Themed Creation Fics!

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FRANKIE MORALES

Sheer Desire by @the-blind-assassin-12 Okay so imagine you're Frankie's +1 to a Millerboy wedding. And there's dancing and yearning and flirting involved. And the knowledge that after the reception, you're going to have him all to yourself. Now add in black thigh-high nylons. And the desire to see them in his hands. And his desire to have those lacy tops pressed against his ears.... IT'S HOT LIKE FIRE. DID YOU THINK IT WOULD NOT BE. GO GET IT.

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #2: Frankie Morales - Kiss in the Hammock by @something-tofightfor I mean, who doesn't want to be cuddled up in a hammock with Frankie? Who doesn't want those soft curls and soft lips and warm arms all pressed up against you?

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #12: Frankie Morales - Kiss in the Dark / Break Up Kiss by @something-tofightfor A little angst and a lot of love are on display here. Frankie's here to show his responsible and protective side, and while there's plenty of hurt, he does it oh so softly and I'm just glad we are left with hope.

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #14: Frankie Morales - “I miss you” Kiss / Angry Kiss by @something-tofightfor So remember that hope I just mentioned up there? Same pairing here, and the hope pays off. It's not without some real talk, but perhaps that's what makes the love even more deliciously sincere.

The day Frankie both loves and loathes the kitchen counter by @undercoverpena This is such a wonderful domestic Frankie POV piece. The way he wants to be better for reader, to provide more, to keep promises...the way he adores everything about her, including how she loves to bundle up in his clothes... Getting a peek inside a man who is sweet and loving and seeing the motivations there is such a treat. I really got swept up in this one.

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MARCUS PIKE

The Thing About Second Chances by @artemiseamoon 🪐 This is exquisite. The pain of walking away really hurt. But then, when they met again it is so masterfully done...there are all these little impulses of his, wanting to do everything for her that could easily be overbearing except that he's just so damn loveable and it's hard to watch two people who clearly live each other be denied. I'm not sure he can really change all that much, but I am really pulling for them. Sometimes a little time apart can really drive home how much you can miss someone. Beautiful.

The Moon in May - Full Moon by @hopeamarsu Alpha Marcus. and. sitting on lap. purring and. teasing and soft and spreading you open but requiring go slow. is a tasty treat. brain mush. purring chest at my back. yes please.

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JOEL MILLER

Something Wild and Unruly by @ezrasbirdie Okay, remember when I said that there was a fic that was so beautiful it made me want to quit writing? This is it, and I mean that as a high compliment. Like, I finished it and just put my head in my hands and stared out the window with a big smile on my face. It's outlaw!Joel and old west sex worker!reader with a heart of gold and a good attitude about what she does. It's got so so so much feels and yearning and softness and bathing and the ending is beautiful and full of hope...this fic is up all of my alleys and making all of my jams and is my entire life mood. It is my new official Fave Birdie Fic™️ and I need to sing that to the world.

Small Joys: Wheelbug by @keldabe-kriff 🪐 The whole point of Lyr's Small Joys series is just that--joys. So it seems antithetical for Ellie to have found a bug that's big and bitey and for Joel to freak out about and try to bat it away. But the joy part of it comes from reader's reaction--to the wonder at finding a wheelbug in nature where it wasn't expected--and Ellie's, who of course will always find wonder in something new. Simple and beautifully done.

Small Joys: Leaf Pile by @keldabe-kriff 🪐 Yes, the joy here is jumping in a leaf pile, but the joy I got from it was being able to hear Joel and Ellie perfectly in this. I also love the process Ellie gets to have in collecting the leaves and talking to a neighbor. It's really delightful.

The Sun Will Shine Again by @foli-vora I can't imagine dealing with crippling depression during the years after the outbreak, how hard and crippling it would be. And yet, I think I'd be able to manage if Joel was on my side, telling me he'd carry me as long as he could just to make sure I made it through. This is just such a beautiful piece. I want to curl up in it like a blanket.

Tangled Triumphs by @planet-marz1 I think my blood sugar levels hit an all-time high with this one and I ascended into the heavens. Joel learns to do Sarah's hair and it's so sweet and precious and I love them. Please read this. I need other people to share my squeals.

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JACK DANIELS

Cast Iron Sunshine part 1: Think I'll Call You Sunshine and part 2: Daisy by @blueeyesatnight Color me intrigued. We got ourselves a cocky cowboy in the wild west and a female doctor reader with some determination, sass, and willingness to sport a revolver, and I want more of that push and pull I'm sure is coming. The first meeting is just enough tingle to rub my hands together with glee. HE'S SUCH A SHIT. But then comes Daisy and she's here to lay some hearts open...

What Happens in Vegas.., ...Never Really Ends in Vegas, and Forever by @wildemaven A beautiful drabble trio that encompasses the realization that you've accidentally-in-Vegas married Jack, trying to quit him, and being unable to do so. Do yourself a favor, don't think about it too hard, and give into your cowboy.

Remember Me by @toomanystoriessolittletime This twisted my little heart and melted me in so many ways. When Jack is brought back and can't remember his girlfriend? Can I just cry a river? No worries though, the ending's a happy, hopeful one.

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DIETER BRAVO

Thought That I Was Dreaming by @haylzcyon Salty, spicy, and sweet all at once...this may just be my dream Dieter smut. I very much love a "did he really say???" but then the reason for her not asking was perfect. How does Haylz make the very filthiest filth the sweetest sweet?

Sleazy Santa by @morallyinept This what happens when Dieter's not an actor, just a tremendous sleezebag working as a mall Santa (he's respectful to the kids) and you can't stop wanting that scummy D and go bang dirty in the Grotto. There's candy cane action. It's real nasty. And written like a fkn gourmet meal. The sweatier Jett writes this slimeball, the more I want. I don't know how. It's like Christmas magic. Delicious.

Crawling Back to You by @prolix-yuy This fic is a feast and all of my favorite dishes are on the table. Monsterfkn. Demons. Blasphemy. Sexy contracts. Dieter being a menace. And softness????? This is smut and it is hot hot hot, but there's enough here that's sweetness and fondness that it's going straight to my forever faves list. HE RUINS HER SO NICELY. UGH!

Rendezvous in Reno by @theywhowriteandknowthings A Dieter with small-dick insecurities? Please and thank you, this is super cute. I'd love to get called out for describing his junk wrong in my fics and get a personal correction.

It's Never Over by @pennyserenade We don't get enough exes-to-friends fic around here, and this one is really nice. As much as I hope for them to connect again, I respect their love for each other and their need to just let themselves be special to each other. There were moments here that were bittersweet, but I really loved that about it.

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DIN DJARIN

Birfday--Din by @writeforfandoms Listen. Is it so wrong that I want to cook a nice breakyfast to show Din how much he's loved? Is that too much to ask? Thanks, Jen, for something soft and sweet.

Then We'll Find Out Together by @missredherring A lovely little drabble about settling down in a new home with Din, getting used to the slowness and softness and niceness of everything. And when reader can't sleep, the one thing that's familiar--Din himself--is what calms her down. A lovely little drabble that I would like to live in.

Bounty and Hunter by @never--doubt 🪐 A soulmate fic wherein soulmates can't hurt each other. How interesting then that one of you is being hunted...and makes quite a game out of it?

Significant by @softlyspector He's been calling you riduur for months and you still don't know what it means. Once you find out, that's when the fireworks start. I don't know that I've read dialogue for Din and his sweetheart that affected me the way the last two lines of this fic did...... *swoons*

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PERO TOVAR

Watercolor by @iamskyereads I mean, give a sellsword a bath and you may be in for trouble. But not this man. This man just needs a little care, and while he may not say much, he make good on all kindnesses. I would do anything to give this man a bath and have him speak kindly to me.

Date or Inseminate by @sirowsky Now listen. You're gonna have to read the warnings on this, because I for one get really squicked by dub-con mixed with medical malpractice. I didn't read the warnings and it came out of nowhere....but I'm telling you my eyebrows shot up and then I just giggled through the whole thing like WHAT IS HAPPENING. Sometimes fic is just there to be fun and slap you silly. IRL? No please. But this? Go in with the right mood and it's just strangely and shockingly delightful smut.

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JAVI GUTIERREZ

Formula 101: December to Remember Part 2: Take What Comes by @littlemisspascal There's a lot to love about Rae's F1 media fic. Even outside of the easter eggs in the worldbuilding and the lovely way Javi and Oddball's relationship develops, there are the delightful media interludes--emails, texts, instagram posts complete with character comments--that use pictures and dialogue to move the plot along in a unique way. I love how a short text chain not only sets up a later story locale, but illustrates a history and relationship between two characters so fluidly. Every chapter is a delight to see how the media enhances the storyline...a storyline that is moving in a very interesting direction...

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SPECIAL GUEST CORNER

BO KATAN KRYZE

Hiding Away from the Galaxy by @ghostofskywalker 🪐 I love a good reunion story. Here, you're an ex-Jedi who has a past with Bo and come to find her when all the wars are done. I'd agree that it's worth the wait when she takes you in her arms....

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MARC SPECTOR

My Knight in White by @flightlessangelwings 🪐 Jey's been doing a year of protectiveness, and you know I don't mind that AT ALL. I would love nothing more than to have Marc follow me home and protect me. And then, yeah, if he let me follow him home...and into his bedroom....I wouldn't complain..... *swoon*

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[aliypop]

Return To Sender : Chapter 2

Word Count: 1,908

Writers Note: Alright so here's part 2! Once again dedicated to @sissylittlefeather Sorry if twos a little short

Warning: Language

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis / OC x Jerry

Plot: It's 1968 and Natalya Dyer a divorcee and single mother is tasked to interview Elvis and Cecelia Presley at their humble mansion Graceland about their spicy relationship only to learn more about them as people.

Chapter 1

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

@leapresley

@everythingelvispresley

@dreamondina94

@elvismylove04

@pocketfulofpresley

@elvispresley1956

Memphis August 1968

"Jerry Schilling..."

"Natalya Dyer." She removed the cigarette from her mouth, "Nice to meet you," He smiled at her as she nodded, "Likewise." Natalya heard footsteps, which made her focus on the door, "Mama!" was all she heard as her son came charging towards her with the force of a bull. Jerry looked at her and then at her son as he smiled, "I'll let you handle that." He exited the door. Jerry thought she was pretty, but he was sure she wouldn't even be interested. Besides, she probably already had a husband.

 "Yes, Jer- Bear?"

"Can I go ride golf carts with my friends?" Jericho's eyes got huge, like a puppy. She thought about it from a mother's standpoint on how dangerous it could be, but she remembered she trusted that the Presley family, like any parent, would keep their kids safe. Of course, she also thought he'd be playing with the kids of Elvis and Cecelia, which in its own right was odd in its way, "Please, mama!"

"Oh, alright," She ruffled his blonde hair and kissed his forehead, "But be careful! You have school tomorrow!"

"I'll be okay!" He ran upstairs as she followed him up. 

"El..." Cecelia laughed as she felt him kissing her neck, 

"Hmmm..."

"I can't make dinner if you're seducin me." She chuckled, "Then Birdie can make dinner." He whispered,

 "Birdie's got the week off," She smirked, 

"But, baby,what'cha want me to do..." He pouted as Cecelia nudged him. 

"Let me cook." She turned to face him to kiss him. Elvis picked her up and placed her on the countertop. He kissed her eyelids, then her cheeks, then her nose and her lips again with a sweet hunger as she blushed, 

"What's wrong, Satnin..." He asked,

"You have a way of makin' me fall deeper in love with you every day." She whispered as she pulled him closer to her. 

"You love me, huh honey," 

"Mhmm," Cecelia kissed his cheeks, then his hands, 

"Do have anymore Mai Ta-" Natalya began to walk off as Cecelia and Elvis broke apart,

 "We do!" She flattened out her pants as Natayla laughed,

 "If you two were gonna make out, I could sit in the dining room." 

"We weren't going to do that," Elvis mumbled, 

"Mhmm..." Natalya chuckled, "You know I was thinking about that magazine proposition you two mentioned and..." 

"And..." Cecelia said,

"I wanna work on my first article, and..."

"You want us as your lab rats?" Elvis suggested as he leaned against the counter. Cecelia handed her another Mai Tai as Natayla sipped it, 

"Nothing like being a kissin cousin to a ripe pineapple." She joked as Elvis couldn't hold his laughter in, "Alright, but none of those raunchy questions about my-" Cecelia nudged him again, "Of course not, I want the world to get to understand you two as like a couple, not the stars you know." Cecelia nodded,

"I'd like that," Elvis smiled, 

"Cool, so uh... anything I can do while i'm interviewing?"

"You can help cook," Cecelia gave her a knife and a cutting board. Natalya began to cut onions. She thought of her first question, 

"So what was it like being an interracial couple in the 50s versus now?"

"Well... Should I answer first or you?" Elvis asked Cecelia as she shrugged, seasoning up the steak, 

"I'll answer," Cecelia smiled,

 "Honestly... It's hard. There's not much of a it was, you know. My fans didn't mind it, but when it came to the elders..." Cecelia sighed, "I was ridiculed and called a traitor to my race,"

"We tried to hide it, but our love was too strong to hide." Natalya caught his glance as she alternated from chopping to writing, "I mean, I-It was rough when we had the twins, the uh press askin if they'd be dark or fair," Natalya could tell that angered him, "It didn't matter none to me as long as they were healthy, because love ain't color, it ain't creed, it's a feelin'." He smiled, 

"Oh, Elvis..."

"Hmm?"

"Are the greens missin somethin?" Cecelia asked as he ate them, 

"tomatoes..." He grinned, 

"You and your tomatoes," The pair laughed as Natalya chuckled, "It was like that with my son," Natalya mentioned, "He's half Seminole, so a lot of speculation on why he's got blonde hair and blue eyes, unlike me."

"Hell, we got Cherokee in us." Cecelia smiled. Natalya grinned as she began to feel at home around them,

 "I'm a natural blonde," Elvis added, 

"So what made you two fall for each other?" 

"Her soul."

"His heart," She put the steaks in the oven, 

"Explain that, please."  

"Elvis has a heart of pure heaven, not even gold. He doesn't like to see anyone sad or struggling. Instead, he tries to be an angel on earth," Cecelia looked over her shoulder, "He's my angel on earth. He's so damn funny and," Cecelia chuckled, "He's makin' faces, isn't he?" Natalya nodded, ratting him out, 

"What can I say? Her soul brings out the best in me." He held her, "When I'm here with her, I'm not Elvis the star. I'm Elvis, her best friend, her husband, the father of our children, the man who comes home with messy hair and his shoes off,"

"The pain in my ass, but my joy, my refugee, my home," She looked at him lovingly, "Your green beans are burnin'" He smirked as she puffed out her cheeks, "See, there's the pain in my ass part." She joked,

"Oh, you love it." He smacked her butt as Cecelia blushed. 

"Did the twins change anything in your relationship?" Natalya asked. She remembered when she had Jericho, and her ex-husband couldn't even look at her for long. It was like the love in her ex-husband's eyes was vanishing. 

"The first few years were fine..." Elvis smiled, "But when they started growin older..."

"We started hitting a dry spell." Cecelia leaned against the counter, 

"A dry spell? You two?!" Natalya gasped, "No!"

"Yeah! It was bad Cece was holdin out, and I wanted to put in,"

"Or I wanted to put in, and El here was holdin out." 

"So, how'd you two fix it?"  

"We learned to listen, never go to bed angry at each other, and to kiss while makin' up."Elvis chuckled,

 "We also learned we've got a temper. And it gets in the way, every couple fights, but how you win the battle is what matters." She could see the pure admiration they had for each other. It was what Natalya wanted. Someone who'd look at her with a twinkle brighter than any star.

"Any advice to anyone finding love again?"

"Correction, don't go finding love, find a friend."

"A best friend." Cecelia nuzzled his nose, 

"You two are so sweet." The plates were made, and everyone was sitting down as Jesse reached for a role, Cecelia glaring at him 

"Not until we say grace..." 

"But mama..." Jesse tried batting his baby blues,

"Mind your mama," Elvis suggested. Even Natalya had to agree Elvis was very sexy, even as a dad, 

"Okay..." 

"You know, daddy! Today, I learned at school...How to count by 10, but then Jesse got stuck on 2x2 because he was talkin in class!" She smirked, her curly hair bouncing with every word she said, 

"And who was he talking to?" 

"Jericho." 

"Nu-uh!" Jesse stuck his tongue out, "Right, Jericho..." Jericho was blushing as he looked at Elaine, his mother noticing, "You're pretty..." Elaine's lip curled up like her father's. In disgust as she said, 

"You've got germs."

"I do not have germs!" Jericho huffed,

"Do too!"

"Do not!

"Do too!"

"Do-"

"Hey uh I'm heading home for the-"

"UNCLE JERRY!" Elaine and Jesse ran toward him as Jericho looked at his mother, her eyes on his, "Night." He mumbled, picking up his God niece and Nephew, 

"Say Jerry you like kids right?"Elvis asked as he was saying goodnight, 

"I mean I like your kids." The Memphis bachelor said back,

"That sounds... wrong as hell..." Natalya mentioned as Cecelia chuckled, 

"I didn't uhm mean it like that Mrs. Dyer." He blushed getting shy again, "Can I get you another Mai Tai?"

"Yes, you can."Elvis grinned getting invested in whatever was stirring up in front of him. 

"Actually gotta get this little one to bed," Sleep had hit Jericho as he was nodding off on his plate, 

"You two can stay over!"

"El, I'm sure she wants to go home..." 

"But..." He pleaded, and whispered, "I'm playin' Cupid." he smiled as Cecelia chuckled, 

"Besides when have I ever been wrong..."

"Well..." 

"Go 'head name a time..." 

"That damn monkey Scatter..."

"Scatter was fun!"

"Scatter wore my bra on his head, and let's not forget what I caught him doing with my favorite dress..."  

"Well... Uhm, may I walk you to your car?" Jerry offered. Natalya nodded, "That would be nice," she picked Jericho up as Jerry opened the door for her,

 "Great... now He's heavy," Natalya huffed, 

"Mind if I..." Jerry asked, 

"That would be kind." She smiled as he picked him up, 

"See who's stupid now!"

"Still you cupid." She chuckled, as they raced to the door to watch, "Your husband must be worried." Jerry spoke as Natalya chuckled, 

"My husband hasn't been worried about me in years." Trying to laugh off the heartache, 

"I'm sorry."

 "Ah, no need. He was a bastard." She shrugged, "What broke you two apart?" He kept walking as she sighed, "He wanted a trophy wife, and I wanted my husband to be a husband, " Natalya sighed, remembering how he'd come home late smelling of Whiskey and cheap perfume, "I'm sorry that happened to you."

 "You can give a man your life, and it still ain't enough." She looked at him. Jerry placed Jericho in the car as he looked at Natalya. She was strong, beautiful, witty, and charming and he had to know more. He had to see her again, he wanted to, 

"It's a shame he left a woman like you all alone."

"Well, he wanted to stick his dick in anything that wasn't me, especially after our son was born." She mentioned, taking a cigarette out as he took his lighter and lit it for her. 

"Thanks, Mr. Schilling."

"Of course, Ms. Dyer" 

"Please call me Natalya." 

"I'd like to call you some time if that's okay," Jerry smirked, remembering he had some of his flirtatiousness in him, 

"Was that too strong?"

"Not at all, but maybe we should start as friends." Remembering the advice given to her, "If that's okay with you, I'm still adjusting and-"

"I could show you around Memphis," He added, "The best restaurants everything," 

"I'll think about it." she took out her keys as he opened her door for her

"Well if you think about it and change your mind, meet me at Valmos Sound."

"Isn't that in Nashville?" She questioned, 

"Yeah, but it's three hours," He smirked as she felt her knees go weak, "Whadya say?"

"Oh alright..." She laughed, "But don't you dare try anything."

"I would never try anything with a friend." He smiled as he closed her car door. Driving off, the radio was playing Love Me Tender, she then groaned as she changed it again, and Can't Help Falling in Love was playing,

 "Fuck this.."

"Debuting on W.H.B.Q. Cecelia Presley's new hit To Be Loved." 

"God what did I do to deserve this!" She sighed,

SHOULD I MAKE PART 3?

[koogl001]

Hey, Hey! May I request Alastor and Husk with a S/o that has wings and bird like tendencies. Like preening, perching on objects, etc.

One-Shots and Headcanons Masterlist

You were first introduced to the Happy Hotel by your friend Angel Dust

He knew you had problems with your current renter and your neighbours because of all the feathers around the building

Well, you were a bird type demon so what did they expect?

When you got to the hotel after “helping” Cherry with her territorial takeover and getting a big earful from Vaggie, you got the pleasure of meeting Alastor and Husk for the first time

Alastor

As a little birdie, two of your biggest passions were dancing and music, which kinda go hand it hand

And Alastor, being the pompous person he is, revels in making a show out of anything he does

You enjoy his singing and dancing immensely, swaying to the tunes yourself and if he’s in a good mood (which is practically always) he’ll ask you to be his dance partner

He’ll take you to the place where Mimzy performs to show off his music taste and dance the night away

But just a friendly reminder, do be careful not to make Mimzy too jealous of the attention you get from her crush or she’ll go up and beyond to ruin you

He loves your wings, they remind him of the wings of an angel which goes along with your pure personality, he might even mistake you for a fallen angel the first time he sees you

Ever since he was alive, he has been into dark magic, voodoo and those sorts of things so do not be surprised if you see a voodoo doll of yourself adorned with the feathers you lost during your molting

You did wonder where they disappeared to but assumed Niffty swept them up and threw them away

When Alastor discovers your love for anything shiny and jingly, he’ll make it an everyday thing to bring you any sparkly items he comes across

He’ll also make you a perch on the top of the hotel so you can peacefully observe the city from there, though he’ll make it big enough for two in case he feels like joining you

When he finds out you made a little nest made of fabric and pretty much anything fluffy like plush toys or pillows in your room, he’ll bring you his clothes to use

What you see as a help in building the nest, he sees as a way for you to get used to his scent and have the scent stick to you as you use his clothes as a bed to mark you as his territory

Plucking on your feathers, something you do when you’re bored, will be something Alastor won’t allow

It’s not good for you after all, and if he catches you in the act, he’ll make sure you’re bored no more

He’ll also brush up his knowledge on birds, specifically their way of courtship

One day, he’ll just come up to you and start preening you seeing as that is something commonly done in the bird world to woo a female

He’ll also straight up ask you about the mating dance and will insist on you teaching him so that he can perform it with you

He wants to do this the way that is most natural and comfortable for your kind after all, being the gentleman his mama raised him to be

Husk

Seeing as he has wings of his own, you’re most likely to bond over that

You’ll complain how hard it is to find clothes that actually are made for bird type demons, so you don’t have to cut holes into every new shirt you get

Though that is where your similarities end

After all, Husk is more of a cat than a bird, which is kind of ironic, seeing as birds are usually pray for cats and he possesses some qualities of both animals

He’ll paw at you from time to time playfully, making sure he doesn’t actually hurt you or damage your feathers

He loves hearing you sing but sometimes, those high-pitched chirps of yours can irritate his ears so do be careful not to screech too much

When he wants some privacy, he’ll use his wings to create a screen of sorts between the two of you and the rest of the world so he can have you to himself

He’ll boop your beak-like mouth seeing if you’re going to nip him

When you two cuddle, he’ll run his paws thought your feather-like hair while purring, but you better not tell anyone of this cute display or he’ll be upset his grumpy façade he shows others has been compromised

When being teased about the fact that birds and cats should be enemies, not lovers, he’ll hiss at whomever dared make such a remark showing his fangs and flattening his ears

He doesn’t care to even entertain such stigma, for you are his lover and nothing less

He’ll rub his head on you as a way to coat you in his scent and mark you as his territory so no one dares to take you away from him

He loves nothing more than soaring though the sky with you, challenging you to a race or two

Of course, being the betting man he is, there is always a price for the winner

[disastrousduckss]

Dad!Ablaze scene I wanted to write out before I forget

Ablaze wakes up to Branch crying, he quickly jumps up from the chair, turning on the light and rushing to Branch. He gently shakes the small trolling.

"Branch, sweetie. Wake up Branch." Branch does wake up, but his eyes are in a panic, looking everywhere, his breathing irregular. Ablaze carefully lifts him up so he was in his lap. Branch gripped Ablazes arm, digging his nails into his skin. Ablaze starts to gently rock him. It took awhile but he soon felt Branch's grip loosen as he heard Branch's breathing slow.

"Branch, did you have a nightmare?" He felt his small head nod, not wanting to show his face. Ablaze rubs his back, his rocking slowed down. "Did you want some water?" Branch shakes his head. "Sweetie, is there anything I could do?" Branch looks up him, his eyes red and puffy.

"Could you sing?" Ablaze was taken aback. Branch didn't really like to or hear singing. He wasn't sure if that was such a good idea, he didn't want to trigger anything in his kid. "Are you sure?" Branch nods, cuddling into Ablazes chest. He smiles, his fingers going through Branch's hair. "Alright, I have one." He hums for a bit, letting Branch calm a little more before he started.

"Now hush, little baby, don't you cry

Everything's gonna be alright"

He leaned back against the headboard, Branch's head rested on his chest.

"Stiffen that upper lip up, little B, I told ya

Daddy's here to hold ya through the night"

He tighten his grip, making sure Branch knew he meant it.

"I know Mama's not here right now and we don't know why"

He knew, they both knew. Branch's grandma was eaten by a Bergen.

"We fell how we feel inside

It may seem a little crazy, pretty baby

But I promise mama's gonna be alright

And if you ask me to, Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird

Imma give you the world

Imma buy a diamond ring for you, Imma sing for you

I'll do anything for you to see you smile"

He got up, lifting Branch's head in his hands, wiping away the stray tears with his thumbs, he smiled.

"And if that mockingbird don't sing and that ring don't shine

Imma break that birdie's neck

I'll go back to the jeweler who sold it to ya

And make him eat every carat, don't fuck with dad"

Branch giggled at the last part, it was the only time he would swear infront of him. He held Branch tighter.

"I'm sorry for having another nightmare." Ablaze rubbed circles on his back, "That's not your fault, it happens, you've been through so much." He felt Branch wiggle out of his grip. He let go so Branch could look at him. "Please.... don't leave." Ablaze sighs, his heart breaking as he cupped his cheeks. "Never, I said I was gonna take care of you, and I promised to never leave you. You're stuck with me now kid." He tickled Branch at the last part, earning a small giggle in return. He felt Branch cuddle back up to his chest and yawn. Ablaze got comfortable in his bed, stacking the two pillows so he was levitated a bit.

"Night Branch."

"Night....da..." His heart almost broke, after two months of raising Branch after he found him that day, one month and a half ever since they escaped, Branch called him "dad". He wrapped his arms around.....his son. He smiled as he pressed a small kiss to his forehead, he felt his eyes grow heavier, soon he let the sleep consume him.

-------------

Yea I changed the lyrics a bit :P

Hope you guys liked it!^^

[hangmansgbaby]

Gunpowder & Lead

Jake Seresin x OC! Emory Chase-Seresin | Bob Floyd x OC! Birdie Floyd

This series is co-written by @mamachasesmayhem and she deserves all the love and praise for it too!

Persephone gets a new target after Penny and Amelia show up at Cora's Bakery begging for help. Emory, who knows Pete's type well, makes it her personal mission to bring his empire down. Chief of Police Beau Simpson has been on Jake's ass more and more to catch Persephone and her accomplices. Jake's having a harder time justifying "just barely missing her" when he's trying to secretly avoid arresting his and his best friend's wife. Jake and Emory step into the most difficult phase of their relationship with a complicated question. What's more important… Their careers or their love?

Series Warnings: violence, description of domestic assault (prologue only), mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of crimes against women, revenge plots, boss babes kicking ass, smut (let me know if I missed any!)

Meet Persephone & Hades | Meet Hera & Zeus | Playlist | Taglist

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Epilogue

This is rewrite of our original version of G&L which will only ever be posted by either @mamachasesmayhem or myself.

It has also come to our attention that people who claim to no longer be friends with us, still have fics listed as part of our story. While at one point these would have been considered canon, as of the time of posting this, these people no longer have the permission to use our characters or storyline. If upon searching you find these fics, please know that they are not apart of our series.

[cameronspecial]

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 4)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Under Age Drinking, and Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Everyone in her life is finally back on the island and she finally has her date with Wilson. But what happens when things don’t go to plan and she starts questioning her feelings. 

A/N: This was way longer than I though it was going to end up being because it was honestly supposed to just be a filler chapter but I honeslty just couldn’t stop myself. 

Masterlist

Y/N and Wilson had been texting for a week before he finally asked her on a date for tomorrow night. She isn’t sure what he has planned, but he said the dress code is formal so maybe they are going to a fancy dinner. Not exactly her favourite idea, she could live with it though. Lacey returned back to the Outer Banks yesterday, so Y/N is going over to her house to cook brunch together. Even though Y/N and Mason picked Lacey up from the airport, the girls need some quality time together. Well, Lacey would do most of the cooking while Y/N snacks under the guise of quality testing and making smoothies for them. 

“I’m here,” Y/N sings as she waves the bag of smoothie mix she brought. Knocking is no longer in her vocabulary in regard to her best friend. “I missed you so much, Bitch! The men in Paris may be hot. But they got nothing on being with you,” Lacey screams as she blindsides Y/N with a hug. Y/N laughs and wraps her arms around the other girl, “I missed you too. But I literally saw you yesterday, babe.” “Yeah, but we spent so long a part for my month-long summer internship,” Lacey complains, “Let’s get cooking. Mama is hungry.”

Y/N moves toward the blender to begin mixing the smoothie blend. “So a little birdie told me that you and Rafe are actually starting to get along with each other,” Lacey teases her friend. 

“Yeah… He’s been acting like a totally different person lately. The teasing is mostly just verbal and he can actually be helpful.”

“Awwww, Y/N/N. It sounds like you have a crush on him. Should I start planning a wedding?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Plus, I met someone last weekend.” 

“Ohh, tell me about him.” 

“Well, he’s sweet, funny, likes to read, he really likes doc-”

Lacey interrupts her, “I don’t want those details. Show me a picture.” Y/N giggles and pulls up a picture on her phone to show her friend. Lacey also notices how similar Rafe and Wilson are but bites her tongue.

 “He’s totally cute, but he looks like he has a stick up his ass.” 

“LACE! He does not! Although, he doesn’t use contractions and goes to sleep at like 11 P.M., but I promise he is funny.”

 “Okay, but how is the sex?” 

"We haven’t gone on a date yet. We have our first date planned for tomorrow night.” 

Before the conversation could continue, the oven timer goes off and Lacey goes to take out the chocolate chip scones from the oven. “So what are the plans for tomorrow? Do you need help getting ready?” Y/N nods her head, “Yeah, could you help me curl my hair, please? He said to wear something fancy so I was thinking of wearing that black dress that I wore to my cousin’s wedding last year. You know the long one with a spaghetti strap kind of style.” “Ooh, you’d look so cute in that. I can definitely curl your hair. Maybe, I can braid it back like a little crown on your head,” Lacey gushes as she stirs the omelet in the pan. Y/N smiles at the girl and starts playing some music on her phone. 

Brunch is finished quickly and the girls settle in the breakfast nook to eat. “So let’s get back to the topic of Rafe Cameron because we both know you haven’t told me everything, bitch,” Lacey bugs with a shove of Y/N’s shoulder with hers. The slight blush on Y/N’s cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Lacey. “There isn’t much to say. I mean…” Y/N stops not wanting to admit what she felt last week after having lunch with Rafe, Mason, and Wilson. “Girl, you better continue or else I’m gonna make you cook for us next time,” Lacey warns as she knows where her friend is going. “Fine, last week, after I had lunch with the boys and Wilson, I thought maybe… Maybe Rafe and I were going to kiss.” Lacey beams with excitement at this revelation. “No way! What happened?” “Kie and I jumped into the pool to sink the guys and… when it was just Rafe and me, he teased me about always getting him wet. He took my hand and we got closer, but I got a text from Wilson before it went any further,” Y/N wouldn’t admit it but even she could hear the slight disappointment in her voice. 

“You totally should’ve let him kiss you!”

“No, it was a mistake for us to even have gotten that close. He may be sweet today, but it doesn’t mean I can just forget about him being a jackass. Plus, he is Mace’s best friend. It would be awkward.”

“That’s true, but I’ve always thought there was something between you and Rafe. And I think if you guys really like each other, Mace will accept that and be happy for you.” 

“Maybe. Let’s not talk about this anymore. I have a date with someone else tomorrow anyways.”

———

“So how many parties did you throw and drag your sister to, Mason?” Cassie questions while she sits in her newly claimed passenger seat. Mason groans, “I was only able to convince her to let me throw one and even that was cut short. Not that it was your fault Y/N/N.” Mr. And Mrs. Y/L/N didn’t mind their children throwing parties as long as the police didn’t show up, everyone had a designated driver and nothing was broken. They’d rather be realistic about their children’s activities and ensure they do it safely. 

“Why? What happened?” Marvin looks up at his twins through the back mirror. “Owen was being an asshole when I went out to the gazebo. Rafe and Mace found me before anything serious could happen. Although I did punch him for insulting them, so I might need your help untangling that web.” Marvin shakes his head with a light chuckle, “Like that knucklehead’s lawyers can beat the Y/L/Ns. I swear that idiot’s parents were just as bad as he was when I was in high school.” “How was Bali?” Mason asks. “Amazing. You guys would love the beaches, we’ll have to go back with you guys sometime,” Cassie gushes to her children. “That’s a great idea, my love. Just, kids, remind me to put sunscreen on. I fell asleep on the first day when your mom was at pilates, I woke up three hours later as red as a lobster,” Marvin chimes in. This causes the whole car to laugh. 

———

Y/N is getting ready for her date with Wilson. She does her makeup while Lacey lightly curls her hair and braids the front pieces back to create a crown. “Has he given you any hints about where you are going?” Lacey inquires, returning to sit in the bed after finishing Y/N’s hair. Y/N pauses with her makeup sponge in hand and turns towards her, “Nope. If it’s just dinner, it should be fine.” 

“It’s basic though. You hate those types of dates. You need more excitement.” 

“Yeah, but at least it’s not like dumpster diving.” 

“I mean he could still do that. Maybe he just wanted it to be fancy.”

“Oh my god, could you imagine?”

Both girls fall into hysterics at the notion, which catches the attention of a certain boy passing by the open door. Rafe pauses as he walks past the door and upon hearing the laughter, stops. He wants to go inside to investigate the reason behind it. He quickly starts to walk again toward Mason’s room, “Where are Y/N and Lace going?” “Oh, they aren’t going anywhere. Lace is just helping Y/N/N get ready for a date with Wilson. Can you believe she actually wants to go out with him?” Mason states without so much as looking away from the video game he is playing. “A date? Really?!” “Yeah. Now, dude, hop in before I get creamed by these guys.” Rafe does as he is told but he could not stop thinking about what Mason said. Y/N has been on dates before, but something about Wilson screams bad news for Rafe. All of Y/N’s other dates were obviously not serious about her. They just liked the novelty of dating a Y/L/N and were not into dating men. Wilson seemed too serious at lunch to want to date around like the other boys Y/N has dated. 

“I have to go, my dad wants to go to the country club for dinner. Bye, love you.” Rafe hears Lacey say from down the hall. The sound of her footsteps and the front door opening prompts him to say, “I actually forgot to get some snacks while I was downstairs. I’m going to go get some now.” “Okay, dude.”

Rafe makes his way to Y/N’s room and leans up against her door frame to watch as she looks at herself in the mirror. “Well, don’t you look like a disaster, Y/L/N,” Rafe teases. “Haha, very funny. But seriously. Does this dress look okay?” Y/N asks timidly. Rafe wanted to say that it doesn’t just so that she would take more time looking for something else to wear and miss the date, but the look of uncertainty on her face makes him forgo that tactic. He also wanted to be honest with her; the truth is the dress she wore wouldn’t be the dress he’d want to see her in if he took her on the date. “While you looked amazing in that dress at your cousin’s wedding, I think this dress would be much better,” he answers as he walks towards her clothes and takes out her long black dress with a column skirt and halter top. He had seen her wear it last year to her dad’s 45th birthday bash. Rafe remembers having some inappropriate thoughts about the dress for a family event. Y/N nods at the suggestion and goes to try the new dress on in the bathroom. 

She comes out with a smile on her face and does a little twirl for him, “Rafe, this is perfect. Thank you!” She gives him a hug, which he returns. He was correct; she looks like an absolute vision and it kills him that he isn’t the one taking her on the date. That he was honest with her and now Wilson will get to see her in Rafe’s favourite dress for a date. Although, Rafe wouldn’t take her anywhere fancy on their first date. He knows it would make her nervous if he did, so he would take her to the bookstore first and buy any book she so much as glances at. Then he’d bring her over to his house to bake some cookies for their dessert after dinner, which would be a picnic on the beach at sunset. He would make sure to bring a sweater and an extra blanket for when the night breeze sent goosebumps up her arm. He has to shake himself out of his daydream before he stares too long, “No problem. Have fun on your date. Be safe and I’ll probably see you when you get back because I’m too lazy to go back home.” Rafe makes a quick exit back towards her brother’s room. 

Y/N notices the upset look on his face and assumes it is because of the thought of his father being home, the most likely reason why he is sleeping at her house again for the fifth night in a row. At this point, he might as well just move into their guest bedroom. Everyone in the Outer Banks knew that Ward Cameron had a favourite child and her name was Sarah Cameron. This caused Rafe to constantly try to get Ward’s approval so he could feel the same paternal love his middle sibling got, but no matter what he did it still led to arguments between the father-son duo. It didn’t matter that Rafe had continuously dominated the breaststroke events in swimming, he still wasn’t good enough in the eyes of Ward Cameron. She would be wrong though; the reason why he is upset this time is the fact that she is going on a date.  Before she knew it, a knock was at the door and she heard her father answer the door.

She walks towards the landing overlooking the front entrance. “Hello, I am Wilson Porter and I will be taking Y/N out on this fine evening. I hope you are in accordance with this idea, Mister …,” Wilson greets while holding out his hand for her father to shake. She realizes she still hasn’t told Wilson her last name yet. Her father takes Wilson’s hands and shakes it, “Hey, it’s Mr. Y/L/N. And I am fine with you taking her on a date as long as you have her home by one.” Y/N hopes Wilson doesn’t make the connection to her mom. Y/L/N is a common last name. “Of course, Mr. Y/L/N. punctuality is my specialty. Ah, there is the woman of the hour. She looks radiant.” Y/N is surprised she doesn’t blush at Wilson’s compliment; she could’ve sworn she was on fire when Rafe was raving about how she looked, “Thanks, Wilson. Are you ready to go?” “I absolutely am. Right, this way,” Wilson leads Y/N towards his car and goes to the driver's side. She thought he would open the door for her, but when he doesn’t, she quickly scrambles to get in so it isn’t awkward. 

———

The car ride was filled with pleasant conversation. Wilson mostly talked about Cassie’s books, which doesn’t surprise Y/N considering she knows he wants to become a writer as well and some of her mother’s earlier works are his favourite books. They arrive at La Fleur Bleue, an expensive French restaurant. She isn’t thrilled to be here considering the portion sizes are so small. They enter the restaurant and are led to their table. They look at the menu, when Wilson speaks up, “Do you think I could order for us? I think I have you figured out and can pick you something you love.” “Sure, I’m not too sure what I want to get anyways.” “Great,” Wilson waves the waiter over to order, “Hello, we are both going to have the quiche loraine with a bottle of champagne, please.” The waiter nods, takes their menu and goes off to put their order into the kitchen. “How did you get them to not check our id?” Y/N is astounded at the strings he could pull or hopes she isn’t dating someone who is 21 without her knowing. “My dad is a silent partner here, so they generally look the other way as long as the restaurant isn’t busy,” Wilson explains. 

At least, she knows he isn’t dating her for her money. While waiting for the food to come out, Wilson starts up the conversation again, “So have you had the chance to read The Wisp of Forever? Is it not a literary masterpiece? I mean hardly say this but Conan Austin’s work could rival Cassie’s”

“No, I haven’t had the chance yet because my tbr is so long. But also, it doesn’t really seem to be my type of book.”

“You should stop filling your time with Book’s Instagram and Young Adult Fiction. It’s all nonsense you will grow out of and look back on with disgust. The books I read help fill you with knowledge and enlightenment. They are also realistic.”

“Well, I like YA and Bookstagram. I actually enjoy the books I read from there. Also, it’s nice to read about people going through similar issues as me,” she says as nicely as she can. She is used to this response from most adults in the Outer Banks community, so she has the response memorized. Before Wilson could retort, the waiter comes back with their food and champagne on a tray. The first thing she notices is how tiny her quiche is. It definitely will not be enough food for her, but she doesn’t want to complain about it because of how expensive the food is. Even though her parents have generational wealth, Cassie and Marvin raised their children to be cautious of pricing and that just because they have the money now, doesn’t mean that it can’t disappear with one bad decision. She’ll just make grilled cheese when she gets home. As she eats, she notices she is shivering. The AC is on so high right now. With nothing to cover herself with, she tries to continue eating. 

Dinner went and passed with pleasant conversations about themselves. “Would you guys like to look at the dessert menu?” The waiter offers after clearing their plates. Y/N is about to speak up, but Wilson beats her to it, “No, we actually have somewhere else to be, so just the check, please.” The waiter returns with a check and places it on the table between the pair. Wilson pushes the bill close to Y/N. She isn’t one to expect the man to pay for the first date every single time, but she thinks that whoever asks the person out and chooses what to do should pay for the date. Or at least split the bill. She doesn’t want to make a scene, so she pays the bill without a word. Maybe, he just wants to reverse the unfair expectations of men always paying, which she could get on board with. Wilson gets up in a hurry and makes his way toward the entrance, leaving Y/N to run after him. He opens the door for himself and walks through. This causes the door to shut in her face. Y/N awkwardly opens the door for herself and gets into Wilson’s car. 

“So where are we going to now?” Y/N asks to break the silence. “We are going to a showing of Hamlet at Kildare Theatre. I hear it is an amazing performance.” Y/N is a little disappointed at the notion. She has nothing against Shakespeare and actually enjoys reading his comedies, but she finds watching the actually plays boring and can’t remember the last time she could stay awake through one of them. “Oh, cool. Sounds fun.” They arrive at the theatre house and settle down into their seats. As she watches the play, she has to gently pinch herself every time she nods off to keep herself awake. By the time the play finishes, Wilson takes her home and she gives him a peck goodbye before going inside. 

———

She enters her home and looks at the grandfather clock in the front entrance to see it is 12 A.M. At this realization, she notices how her stomach grumbles. She goes to change into Rafe’s Led Zepplin shirt and comfy shorts. She puts her hair up into a messy bun then makes her way downstairs to make a grilled cheese. “Did you have fun on your date, Y/L/N?” she hears from behind her while she is turned toward the counter wall. She jumps out of surprise, “God, Rafe. We need to tie a bell around your neck. And to answer your question. Yes, I did have fun.” She lied because although he planned a pretty boring date, she didn’t mind Wilson’s company. Rafe is wearing his light gray zip-up swim sweater on top of his salmon t-shirt with basketball shorts. His hair is all messy, he probably just woke up. She wishes she could just reach up and run her fingers through his hair. “I smell lies. If you had a good time, then why are you here making a grilled cheese in the dead of the night?” Rafe points out. “Even if the portion sizes are small, I can still have fun on a date, Rafe,” She argues. “Whatever you say, Y/L/N,” Rafe comes over and takes the pan out of her hand, “Come on, let’s go to McDonald’s instead.” 

He takes her hand and gently guides her to where he keeps his keys at the front entrance so he can pick them up. Once he has his keys, she opens the front door for them to head to his car. He jogs ahead and opens the passenger door for her. She whispers her thanks and takes the hand he offers her to help her get up into the high jeep. Wilson didn’t open the car door for her. 

Most of the car ride was spent making fun of Mason and singing along to Rafe’s playlist. She notices most of the songs are her favourites. When they get to McDonald’s, Rafe is quick to help her out of the car and open the entrance door for her. She has to admit it is nice to not have a door slam in her face. They pick a seat near the back close to the window and Y/N tries to get up to go with Rafe to order, but he stops her, “I’ve got this, Y/L/N. Just stay here.” Y/N listens to what he says and watches as he orders the food. She’ll have to remember to pay him back on the way home. A few minutes later, he returns with the food, “Ten piece chicken nuggets with fries and Sprite for you. And a BigMac with fries and a coke for me. I’ll get our ice cream after we finish,” he recites as he places her food in front of her. 

“Thanks, this is honestly exactly what I need.”

“No problem. Couldn't have you go hungry. So where did you guys go?”

“He took me to La Fleur Bleue, then we watched Hamlet at Kildare Theatre.”

Rafe chuckles at the look of slight disappointment he saw in her eyes, “I swear that place has the smallest portion sizes. It’s where Rose likes to eat when she wants to diet. However, you must’ve loved the play. You always looked so cozy taking those naps whenever we go to one for school.”

“Oh, it was so fun. I think I still have an imprint on my arm from every time I pinched my skin to wake myself up,” Y/N jokes back, showing him her arm to further the joke. The belly laugh that Rafe lets out causes heat to reach Y/N’s cheeks. She likes making him laugh like that. “I’m going to go get the ice cream now.” Rafe gets up and walks back to the counter to order. Y/N once again notices a chill overcome her tonight and sees how her arms are covered in goosebumps. She should’ve grabbed a sweater before she left. 

Rafe makes his way back to Y/N, noticing the bumps on her arms. Either she always forgets to bring sweaters with her or she is stubborn enough to not wear one to not disturb her aesthetic. He places the ice cream on the table; quick to remove his sweater for her. He hands over the sweater to her without saying anything. How come Rafe noticed she was cold and Wilson didn’t? She takes it and shrugs it on, “Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” Rafe watches as Y/N happily takes a bite out of the Oreo flurry he bought her, “Why don’t you eat any other flavours other than Oreo? Even when we get Dairy Queen, it is always an Oreo blizzard.” She is shocked he pays enough attention to her to notice it, “Oreos remind me of the one time when we were little that you, Mason and I would get along. Our moms would always bring us Oreos after soccer practice. It was the one time we could share without trying to kill each other. I loved the cookie part and you loved the filling, so I would always let you eat the filling from my Oreo and vice versa.” 

Rafe is a tad saddened by the mention of his mother; however, the fact that one of her favourite ice cream flavours is in relation to a memory of him makes him glad. “I didn’t know you remembered that. I have to confess though, after like the second time of us doing that I was sick of eating just the cream filling. The only reason why I kept eating the filling is because you were always so sad about wasting the filling if you didn’t eat it,” he confesses. “No way! Rafe, you didn’t have to do that.” “It’s okay. It made me sick, but my mom would cuddle me after to make me feel better so it was a bonus.” At the mention of his mother again, a comfortable silence washes over the pair. If she was with Wilson, she’d probably feel the need to fill the silence in a way that would prove her intelligence. They finish eating and head back to the car. 

“How should I pay you back? Do you want me to e-transfer you or I could get you the cash when we get back home?” She offers, pulling out her phone in preparation to make the transfer. “What? You don’t need to pay me back, Y/L/N. I asked you to come out with me, so I pay.” It looks like Y/N and Rafe are on the same page about who should pay when going out. Y/N begins to protest; however, Rafe speaks up again before she could, “I’m serious, Y/L/N. I won’t accept anything you try to give me, so don’t even try.” Y/N nods and looks out the window of the car. She turns up the car radio, beginning to sing along to the music. Rafe glances over at her and starts to sing with her. Much like their drive to McDonald’s, it is filled with laughter and music. Y/N can’t help but wonder why she can’t feel this way when she is with Wilson. She is dating Wilson and is supposed to hate Rafe, but why are they making it so hard to feel the right way about each one of them? 

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog    

[buckysgrace]

8. Cowboys Never Cry

Part Eight of Every Little Thing!

CW: Semi public unprotected sex!

“What do you mean you’re not going?” Daphne asked in dismay, crossing the living room frantically as she watched Noelle gather her things up. Birdie followed shortly behind her, nudging his soft nose against her leg as he walked.

“I have to get my hair done,” Noelle said as she held her palms out in mock innocence, “My extensions are looking like a mess. Look at it.” She replied as she pushed her blonde hair out, trying to explain why it was so important to go right now. 

“You’re not going to my dress fitting with me?” Daphne asked again, trying to clarify that was what her sister was saying. Noelle dropped her shoulders and tilted her head, like she was frustrated with Daphne’s question. 

“Ask mama,” Noelle whined, “I got stuff to do.” She defended herself quickly as she picked up her purse. Daphne shook her head, feeling a little hurt as Noelle placed her second again. Daphne would ask Ruby to go, but she already had been resting after a bad migraine episode. She didn’t want to pull her away from that and risk Bruce getting mad at her again. 

“You always got stuff to do.” Daphne pointed out, beginning to pout her bottom lip out in hopes that it may sway Noelle’s decision. It had before. She didn’t want to drive all the way there on her own.

“Oh don’t be a big baby,” She rolled her eyes softly, “Daddy’s not fleshing out all this money for me. I’m paying to get my own hair done, just like anyone else.” She said bitterly, like Daphne had done something wrong. She huffed underneath her breath, not at all surprised that it had come back to money. 

“He would pay for your wedding too,” Daphne defended herself quickly, “Come on. I don’t want to go alone. Mama’s sick and the friends I have are busy.” She begged softly as she reached for Noelle’s arm again. 

“Sounds like a you problem,” Noelle shrugged her shoulders, knocking Daphne’s hand away as she walked around the table, “Maybe Hugh will want to go. Send me a picture when you’re finished.” She dismissed Daphne one last time before she headed towards the door, leaving Daphne with a bitter feeling in her chest. She wanted to shout a bunch of profanities at Noelle but kept her lips clamped together, knowing it was better to drown her anger and hurt feelings than try to get through to Noelle.

She bent to give Birdie a reassuring scratch, understanding that he would join her if he was able to. She didn’t necessarily like the idea of Hugh seeing her dress before the wedding, but perhaps he really would like to go. She just didn’t want to spend the whole day on her own. 

“Hey,” Daphne approached the room slowly, ensuring to leave it open just in case Bruce happened to pass through, “I’m going to get my fitting today.” She said softly, resting against the doorknob as she looked at the way Hugh was positioned in front of the window. She twisted her head for a moment, looking at what he was starting to work on. 

“That sounds fun.” He said briefly, his eyes peeled to the canvas in front of him. She looked at his hand, noticing that it was stained with different colors. She supposed it was good that he was actually allowed to work on his art, rather than be forced to whatever hard labor Bruce could whip up. 

“I was thinking that maybe you’d want to join?” She asked him hopefully, “You don’t have to see the dress of course, but it’s in one of the bigger cities here. I could show you around.” She told him enthusiastically as she joined him on her knees on the floor. It wasn’t the same as Marseille, but it was different than staying on the ranch.  

“Oh,” Hugh paused, “I sort of had a flow going. I’d hate to interrupt it.” He replied, giving her a brief smile before turning back to his painting. Daphne huffed underneath her breath, her bangs moving in the process. She knew all too well about Hugh and his flow. Sometimes it would be long stretches of days and nights with bright lights blinding her as she twisted and turned in bed, just to get comfortable. 

“Right,” Daphne nodded her head in agreement, “It’s fine. I totally understand what you mean.” She said, glancing down at the way the carpet molded against her fingertips. She thought about it for a moment, wondering if she should just cancel the appointment and reschedule it for another day. 

“Have fun though.” Hugh replied, his attention solely on his painting. She rolled her eyes, knowing that he wouldn’t see as she pushed herself back onto her feet. She rolled her shoulders, trying to stand a little straighter as she left the room. 

She was sure she’d be fine. She did a lot of things on her own when she traveled, there was nothing different about it now. She tugged her purse in her hand, trying to ignore the frustration that was bubbling within her stomach. She thought about asking Daisy, but doubted that she’d be able to do it. She was always busy. Lucia would’ve been an option, had she not been down south visiting relatives. 

She walked out the front door, doing her best to keep from slamming it shut behind her. She dangled her keys back and forth between her fingertips inhaling sharply as she headed towards where her little beat up truck was parked. She stalled for a moment, sure that she was imagining something. 

“What are you doing?” She asked softly, her eyes widening as Gator shut his truck door behind him. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping that he couldn’t see the obvious outline of how her heart was thumping roughly inside of her chest. She’d almost hated to shower, fearing that she wouldn’t be able to remember his skin on hers. 

She felt like he looked like a dream with his slicked back hair and cocky smirk as he leaned against his larger truck. She let her eyes drift for just a moment, taking in his brown cargo pants and black athletic shirt that hugged him snuggly. He looked handsome. She’d say that much. 

“Wanted to see you.” He said simply, taking a deep inhale as he wrapped his lips around his vape, blowing out a cloud of smoke towards her. She drew her eyes away shyly, wondering if he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her either. It was like he was carved in her mind, deep into the etches of her soul.

“Gator-,” She turned her gaze back towards him softly, trying to find the words to say. She wished she could feel guilty, to feel ashamed over what she had done. Perhaps that was the worst part, knowing that she didn’t regret any of her heinous actions. If anything, she wanted more of him. 

“Where are you going?” He asked her instead, tilting his head as his eyes dropped to the keys in her hands. She paused for a second, still feeling awkward when she brought up her wedding to him. 

“Wedding dress shopping,” She mumbled softly, “Well, mostly a fitting. I found one in France that I liked. They should be sending it, but I want to see all of my options.” She nodded her head softly, feeling content with her answer. 

“You’re going alone?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at her in disbelief. She shrugged her shoulders, feeling like part of her would always be labeled as the pesky little sister, “Get in.”

“It’s out of town,” She shook her head, feeling like it was bad for the both of them to be alone, “I’m going to Bismarck.” She said sternly as she nodded her head, hoping that he would agree with her. She didn’t have much leverage when it came to him. 

“So? That’s not even two hours away.” He looked at her in confusion, tilting his head as he waited for her response. She chewed on her bottom lip, knowing they’d gone on far longer road trips before. Far enough that they’d once lost phone signal and ended up spending hours trying to dig and push his truck out of thick, muddy backroads. 

“You don’t have anything better to do?” She asked him curiously, observing that he was clearly out of his uniform. She wondered if he was off, or if he had worked last night. 

“Not today,” He grinned as he stood up a little straighter, then pat the side of his truck, “I was planning on bothering you anyways.” He mused, sending her a sly smile as he followed her around to the passenger seat and pulled the door open for her. 

“How lucky am I,” She clambered into the seat, ignoring how his large hands felt on her hips as he gave her a boost. She paused for a moment, turning in her seat to face him, “You really don’t mind?” She asked him softly, hoping that he wasn’t doing this because he felt like he had to.

“Not at all,” Mischief flooded his brown eyes as he spoke, making her believe that this really was a bad idea, “It’ll be fun.” He reassured her as he gently shut the door. She watched the way he crossed the front of the truck, the way he roughly spit before he crawled inside. 

“Thank you,” She responded gently as she held her hands over her flowery skirt. She stared at the material, trying to decide if it was an off white or a very soft pink. She looked at the flowers next, taking in the different colors and designs before she turned towards him again, “I figured you would’ve had a fancy date or something.”

“Me?” He laughed, glancing over at her as he placed a hand behind her seat to reverse out of the driveway, “Not in that manner.” He said a second later, amusement dancing across his features as he slowly met her eye. He moved his arm away a second later, turning the truck in the right direction. 

“What, does Tinder keep you occupied?” She teased him gently, but felt a burning sense of jealousy fill her stomach. She knew it was dumb. Gator could be with anyone he wanted to be with, just like she was with Hugh. 

However, their situations were certainly different. She was about to be married, but it was to someone who she had barely experimented with. She had yet to put his tongue inside of his mouth or just to kiss him in the same manner that she did with Gator for hours. 

Hugh insisted that it had to do with wanting to save it for marriage, but she’d grown inquisitive more than once. He certainly didn’t speak like a saint, nor act like one in other manners. He wasn’t very religious either, not in the way that Daphne had been raised.

 She’d panicked the first time he’d brought it up, swore up and down that she was a virgin as well. Which was about as far from the truth as she could get. Daphne and Gator’s history had been adventurous. They’d tried all kinds of positions, kinks and fetishes, more than she could count on two hands. She supposed the good thing about her lie was that no one knew the truth, well, besides Gator. 

“Something like that,” Gator’s lips curled up oh so gently as he drove them down the long road, “Does your guy ask about me?” He asked casually, digging for information the same way she had been when she suggested that he may have a date. 

“Hugh,” She reminded him softly, knowing that he was only pretending not to remember, “He hasn’t said a whole lot actually. I think he’s processing everything.” She lied, speaking with her hands for a quick second. She quickly stopped herself, moving her hands underneath her thighs to keep from being obvious. 

Hugh hated him. He hadn’t said it directly, but spoke about Gator with enough dislike and a curl of his lip that she knew the truth. He’d complained about Gator shoulder checking him, then at the engagement party he had insisted that Gator was purposely eating all of the Pâte de fruits. Daphne was still unsure about the second statement, knowing that Gator didn’t care for candied fruits that much nor were they sweet enough for his liking. 

“You’re a shit liar.” He said at last, laughing as he pulled his vape up to his lips. She shook her head as the fruity flavor hit her nose, but then remembered how bad the smell had been when he had insisted that he was going to smoke cigars like their fathers.

“He thinks you’re an asshole,” She responded with a soft laugh as she spoke the truth, “But he said maybe we need to do some kind of group dinner to bond.” She relayed slowly, not mentioning that Hugh had thought it would be best if the two men had gone alone. Gator snorted in response, beginning to play with the radio until his loud music blared through the stereos. 

“When is this dumb wedding anyways?” He mumbled a few minutes later, genuinely looking disgruntled as he glanced over towards Daphne again. She pushed her hair behind her shoulders, enjoying the sensation of the cool air that shot up against her neck. 

“It’s not dumb,” She said as she shoved at him softly, “You didn’t read it on the invitation?” She asked him instead, feeling a little nervous to bring it up with him. She didn’t know why it bothered her. She brushed it off on her lack of guilt. 

“You didn’t know?” He asked her curiously, glancing over at her as he wrinkled his eyebrows together, “I can’t read.” He said at last, a grin forming on his lips from his own joke. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes this time, her own smile plastered onto her lips as she shook her head. 

“You’re an idiot.” She said at last, shaking her head as she watched the pretty scenery disappear around them. She glanced towards him a second later, wondering if he’d ever be brave enough to leave this town. 

“You love me anyway.” He replied a second later, making her heart pump roughly inside of her chest. She couldn’t recall how many times they’d muttered those silly words to one another. Whether it was as kids, or through hushed moans when they clawed at each other’s skin. She knew he didn’t mean it in that manner. It was in a friendly manner between them, as it always had been. They were just words and they were only friends. 

“October,” She said finally as she turned to face him, “The fifth. It’s on a Saturday. Can you get off?” She asked him softly, almost feeling dumb for bringing up that question. She held onto her breath, hoping that he would say yes. 

“Huh,” He leaned forward a bit, adjusting how he was sitting, “That’s pretty quick. He trying to get his citizenship?” He questioned her. She watched the way his eyebrows knitted together, how his tongue slid out just enough to brush against his bottom lip. 

“He will be my husband, so that would be helpful.” She teased him softly, but was slightly afraid of what his reaction would be. She knew how it would sound to him, but it wasn’t like that at all. She was going to make a life with Hugh here. 

“So what’s in it for you?” He asked her casually, looking like he genuinely wanted to know the answer. She blinked, slightly taken aback as to why he would ask such a thing. 

“Uh,” She paused for a moment, “I guess having my husband live with me?” She asked him, feeling her eyebrows knitting together tightly. She didn’t really know what to tell him, or how to explain why she was doing this. She did care for Hugh and despite what people might think, she wasn’t marrying him just to make someone else jealous. She wasn’t that desperate. Gator may not be ready to marry someone, but she was. 

“I mean he doesn’t kiss you, he doesn’t buy you flowers,” Gator said slowly, “He doesn’t even post about you on that dumb app.” She opened her mouth, prepared to fight off how offended she suddenly felt. It all blew away in a matter of seconds at his last statement. She turned towards him quickly. 

“You looked at my instagram?” She asked him pointedly, her eyebrows raising as she watched the way he shifted in his seat again. He glanced towards her, his cheeks slightly flushed as he quickly turned back towards the road. She chewed on her bottom lip, using everything inside of her to keep from giggling. She hoped he couldn’t hear how hard her heart was beating over the music. 

“I just wanted to see if he was good for you or not,” Gator said quickly in defense of himself, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade, “He clearly isn’t.” He replied a little sternly, giving his head a little shake. She grinned this time, feeling a question lingering on her tongue. She wanted to know who was good for her then, who Gator would be happy seeing her with.

She didn’t ask, letting the question slowly die on her tongue even though she knew this conversation wasn’t done. She’d come back to it eventually, when the time was right and when she was sure that he wouldn’t try and avoid the topic. She wanted to know what he truly thought. 

The rest of the car ride was nice, normal. It was hard to feel like there was something missing between the two of them when they fell back together so easily. She missed the way he spoke, his funny little expressions and how he’d mindlessly tap his fingers to the beat of his music.

“It’s this one?” He looked over curiously, shifting forward a bit to peer into the large windows. She bit down on her bottom lip, nodding her head softly as she pulled her purse over her shoulder.

“Something wrong with it?” She asked, her cheeks feeling a little hot at the way he exhaled and shook his head. He turned towards her amused, giving his shoulders a soft shrug as he unbuckled his seat belt.

“Sometimes I just forget how rich your daddy is.” He snorted to himself, cocking an eyebrow like he wanted her to challenge him. She rolled her eyes playfully, watching as he quickly got out of the truck and crossed the front of it to open the door for her. 

“Hey,” She said softly as she opened the door before he could, “It’s not just my daddy. Mama comes from money too.” She reminded him playfully. The Tillman’s may have money, but both of her parents were rooted in old money that went way back. Bruce had not so politely reminded her that it was his money. She didn’t get any of it when she was traveling. 

“Oh my mistake,” He snorted as he pulled the door open for her. He held a hand out, reaching towards her as she shifted to wiggle out of the high seats. She paused for only a second before she gripped his rough hand and bounded out of the seat, “Little rich bitch.”

“Ha,” Daphne laughed playfully, smiling gently as she slowly released his hand. She chewed on her bottom lip, sure that his eyes were on her hips as she walked up the steps, “You coming?” She glanced back towards him, noticing the way he was still leaning against the truck.

“Yeah,” He brushed himself off quickly, his cheeks looking red this time as he jogged forward, “I’m ready.” He mumbled underneath his breath, shaking his head to himself as he pulled the door open for her.

She couldn’t fight the grin on her face as she stepped forward, checking herself into the front desk as she glanced around the room. She was growing nervous again, almost to the point where she wanted to grab Gator and drag him out of the building with her. Suddenly, everything felt too real. 

“And who is your guest?” Lisa, the one who was checking her in, questioned as she wrote down a few things down in the book she had in front of her. Daphne paused, opening her mouth and then shutting it again. She was momentarily stalled, not expecting that she would have to explain who Gator was. 

“This is Gator,” She breathed out, “He’s my-,” She held her hand up towards him, blanking for another second. It didn’t feel right to call him a friend, but anything else would be too suspicious. 

“Groom,” He finished for her, smiling wildly as he jumped at the opportunity, “She wanted my opinion.” He shrugged his shoulders, giving Daphne a cocky grin as her eyes grew three sizes. She parted her lips, trying to think of a way to discreetly protest. 

“Oh, how nice,” Linda smiled, “Follow me back this way. I’ll get you set up in this area, let you get comfortable for a minute.” She walked around the desk, giving them both a quick wave as she walked ahead. 

“I can’t believe you said that.” Daphne whispered underneath her breath, trying to fight off a nervous laugh that was building in her stomach. She feared that someone might find out, but that was silly. They were too far away from home. 

“We won’t ever see her again,” He mumbled as he smacked her ass, “Keep going, mama. They might get suspicious.” He sent her a sly wink, looking rather pleased at the way she flushed and stumbled ahead. 

“Did you wanna do the fitting first, or try some on?” Lisa questioned, all too oblivious at the turmoil that was growing inside of Daphne. Gator strolled up next to her, brushing his shoulder against hers all too softly. It was still enough to make sparks spread down from the side of her arm.

“Can I try some on first?” She asked hopefully, trying to erase the feeling of his skin against her own, “Just in case there’s something else I like.” She asked, trying to act like it wasn’t an excuse to try on a bunch of pretty dresses. 

“Sure,” Lisa smiled again, “Is there anything you need help finding?” She asked curiously as she tilted her head. Daphne shook her head quickly, knowing that she really didn’t have anything in mind. She just liked seeing herself dressed up.

“I think I just want to try a few on,” She said as she played with her fingers, “Nothing really special.” Lisa nodded, bringing her forward again as she began to point out the various ways the dresses were ordered. She excused herself after that, ensuring that she would be close by when Daphne was ready. 

“What do you think?” Daphne asked, popping her hip out as she pulled out a rather large and floofy gown, “Too much?” She asked him playfully, noticing the way his nose just oh so gently curled up. 

“Yeah,” Gator grinned at her, “You’d uh, look like those princesses you used to pretend to be.” He responded, his hands buried in his pockets as he watched the way she examined them. She nodded her head, bringing her hand over the rather large skirt. 

“I always wanted to be a princess.” She sighed softly, thinking about how she used to force Gator to be her knight, even when he didn’t want to be. 

“Aren’t you one?” He teased her softly, “I mean you’re rich and marrying some handsome fella, what’s the other requirements?” He asked her truthfully, raising one eyebrow as he waited for her to respond. She pressed her lips together as she shook her head. 

“I guess that makes you a prince,” She paused as she turned to face him, “Or a frog waiting to be kissed.” She teased him back, waiting for his response as she shuffled through the dresses again. There always seemed to be something off about them. She’d find one that she thought she liked, but then there was just something about it. 

“You were the one handling the frogs.” He brushed his thumb across his bottom lip, covering the smirk that was forming on his lips. She chewed on her inner cheek, shaking his remark off as she went back to looking for another dress to try on. 

“What do you think about this one?” She questioned him as she pulled a more form fitting one out, “Too low cut?” She asked as she held it up, a little curious as to what it would look like on her. Gator gave his shoulders a soft shrug.

“Try it on.” He encouraged her as he pulled it off the rack for her. She grinned, her heart thumping softly in her chest. She liked that he genuinely wanted to be involved in what she was doing.

It was a while later after she rounded up Lisa and got herself squeezed inside of the dress. She nearly didn’t want to go out with it on, once she realized just how tightly the dress squeezed her. She inhaled, taking a breath of confidence as she waddled her way out towards where he was sitting. 

“That’s-,” Gator huffed, his cheeks red as he slowly traced his eyes over her curves, “S’nice.” He managed at last, choking up on his words a bit. He shifted in his seat, cursing as his phone slid off of his lap and down into the couch cushions. 

“There’s no way my dad would let me wear this.” She said at last, trying to ignore the flush that was nearly down to her collarbones. She didn’t know why she was suddenly shy as Gator had seen her with far less on. 

“You really care about what he thinks?” Gator grumbled, sitting back up as he picked his phone back up. He moved a hand over his hair, slicking it back again as his eyes danced back towards her chest. 

“Considering I’m on pretty thin ice for marrying a French man,” Daphne drew in slowly, “Yeah, I’m a little concerned with what he wants.” She nodded her head quickly, thinking about how it had been like walking on ice around him recently. 

“Sounds like you’re marrying your daddy.” He told her pointedly as he kicked his long legs out in front of himself and crossed them at his ankles. She looked at him unamused in the mirror as she shook her head. She wasn’t the only one that went above and beyond to impress a parent. 

She went through a handful of other dresses, each one gaining a slightly different reaction from Gator. She could tell that he liked a little more skin to be revealed, but she wasn’t sure how Hugh would react to that. 

“Do you wanna see the one I bought in France now?” She asked him, feeling a little eager at the thought. It truly was the prettiest one that she had seen thus far. 

“Sure,” Gator said as he tapped his fingertips against the side of the chair, still interested in what she was doing, “Does it look better than that last one?” He asked her, his eyes rising slightly in amusement. 

“Funny,” She told him softly as she walked with Lisa back to the changing room, “I really like this one.” She said a second later, grinning as she felt his eyes following behind her. 

“This one is really pretty,” Lisa commented once Daphne was all dressed up, “I think he’ll love it.” Daphne drew her eyes down softly, feeling a little bad as Lisa spoke. She shook those thoughts away, instead focusing on how much better the dress fit her this time. 

She liked the lace and the sheer sleeves that held little flowered stitching on them. The front of the dress was a v-line shaped, dipping down just far enough to show off the swell of her boobs without revealing too much. It was snug around her waist, but then branched off loosely against her hips. It filled her with fresh excitement.

“So,” Lisa dragged out slowly as she fixed the back of Daphne’s train to sit nicely behind her, “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” She smiled as she stood, turning to face Gator. Daphne pressed her fingertips together, feeling a little nervous as she met Gator’s expression in the mirror. 

His lips were parted, slightly slack as his eyes wandered over her body again. She swore that her heart stopped when his brown eyes met hers in the mirror. He gulped hard before he nodded his head slowly. 

“I think that’s the one,” He mumbled softly, “You look really pretty.” He added a second later, his lips curling into a genuine smile as he watched her. She grinned, turning to face him in excitement. It was all a bit silly, but she really did care about what his opinion was. 

“Thank you,” She mused softly, still grinning as she turned towards Lisa, “Can I take this today then?” She asked curiously, feeling like it already fit her like a glove. She hoped that she wouldn’t need any more fittings. 

“Of course,” Lisa smiled again in return, “Let’s get this off and you’ll be all set.” She ushered Daphne along again, but her footsteps suddenly felt heavier as she tried to keep her focus on anything but Gator. She could still feel him watching her and she wondered if he felt the same warmth spreading through his body. 

“So,” Gator grinned as he followed her into the room once Lisa had left her dressed in her robe, “When do I see what you’re wearing underneath?” He smirked, his eyes dark and filled with lust as he stared at her. She looked up at him surprised, flushing at the way he quickly shut the curtain behind him. 

“You can’t be in-,” She was cut off by the rough way his lips fell onto hers. She moaned, closing her eyes as she pressed her lips against his just as urgently, “Gator.” She moaned against his mouth, sighing as he stole the breath from her lungs. 

He dragged his fingers across her shoulders, bunching up the material of her robe as he went. He pressed his teeth against her bottom lip gently, biting down softly as he unhooked the front of her robe and let it fall to her feet. 

“Wait,” She giggled softly against his lips as his warm hands pressed into her waist. Her nipples hardened from the crisp, cool air that swirled from the vent behind them, “Mhm, need to pick that up.” She mumbled, not wanting their robe to get dirty

“S’fine,” He reassured her, gripping the back of her thighs as he lifted her into the air. She bit back a squeal, not wanting to alert anybody as he stumbled back and positioned himself on the little bench. It was almost funny, how much bigger he looked in comparison to it, “Wanna feel you.” He breathed out, his eyes heavy as he drew his large hands up her soft curves.

His rough palms fell to her boobs, cupping them as a soft gasp left her lips. The feeling of his skin against hers made her eyelids flutter. He felt so rough and warm, so similar to what she’d been missing for so long.

She pressed her lips against his, kissing him deeply as he pinched softly at her pink nipples. She moaned as his tongue pressed into her parted lips, licking away her gentle sounds as he brought one hand down to her wet folds. She jumped at the sensation, gasping as he pressed his thumb against her clit.

“Gator,” She moaned softly after flicking her tongue against his own. She sighed blissfully as she moved her hands down to his hips, roughly beginning to tug his belt off. He lifted his hips, shimming the material of his pants and boxers down just enough to free him. She felt like her mouth was beginning to water as she stared at his thick cock. She admired the way it curved, how long and thick he was, “I want you.” She said softly, bringing her eyes back up towards him. She wondered if he could tell that she meant it in more than one way.

He covered his own groan with her lips, melting their skin together as he gripped her hips and pulled her closer to him. She whined at the sensation, enjoying the rough way his fingers dug into her thighs before he pressed his tip against her slick hole.

She slid down on him with ease, her lips parting widely in silent pleasure as her walls stretched around his thick cock. He fit in perfectly, like he was a missing puzzle piece. She pressed her forehead against his, inhaling the taste of his fruity breath as a whine left his mouth. She paused her movements for just a second, shooting him a warning look.

“Gotta be quiet,” She whispered softly, reminding him before she began to roll her hips further down the length of his cock, “Someone will hear.” She mumbled gently, sighing as she slid down the remainder of his cock. She breathed in deeply, feeling stuffed full from his girth.

He nodded his head, his forehead brushing against hers as he groaned lowly against her mouth. His fingers fell to her hips, squeezing her flesh tightly to push her deeper against his cock. She gasped at the stretch, biting back her own whine as she glanced towards the curtain to ensure it wasn’t being disturbed.

“Little slut,” He spit out a second later, groaning as she began to rock herself up and down the length of his dick. She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to hide her own moans as his cock pressed into her deepest crevices. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation as his lips fell to the crook of her neck, “My little whore, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah,” She whispered, crooning softly as he leaned forward to drag his lips against hers hotly. Her boobs pressed up against his shirt, her sensitive nipples dragging against the material of his shirt as he pulled her closer to him, “All yours, daddy. Your little whore.”

He groaned, his eyes dark as he looked up at her in bliss. He parted his pink lips, his groans tickling her ears as he began to roll his hips up to meet her movements. She sighed, enjoying the way his cock dragged along her wet walls. She was doing her best to be slow, to take it easy. But part of her wanted him to grip her roughly and take her however he wanted. 

He cupped her chin harshly, squeezing her flesh as he brought her face down towards him. She whimpered lowly, enjoying the desperate look in his gaze as his fingers fell upon her lips. He huffed softly, parting her lips before he leaned forward and spit into her mouth.

She whined loudly, licking away his saliva in her mouth. Pleasure raced up her back, tickling her nerves as she swallowed his spit harshly. She began to move herself harder along his cock, sighing as she shut her eyes tightly as the waves crashed over her. 

Their movements were desperate and rough, both of them searching for their release as they clung to one another. She could feel herself dripping along his cock, feeling how each time he slid in easier and easier. She enjoyed the way his large hand fell to her ass, slapping her flesh harshly as it echoed in the room.

“God,” She whined, jolting at the sting as she continued to grind her hips down against his throbbing cock, “Feels so good.” She praised him, gasping as his tip pressed against her bundle of nerves. She could feel a whimper slipping free, sure that she would be addicted to him once again. Three years of trying to forget him had been pointless.

He nipped at the corner of her neck, biting softly before flicking his tongue across the sore area. She pulled him closer, her mouth falling open against his slicked back hair as he bounced her faster along his cock. She could feel her face heating up at the sound of their bodies meeting in a continuous melody.

Her eyes fell to the left, accidentally meeting her gaze in the mirror as Gator continued to mark up her collarbone. Her face was flushed, her features contorted into pleasure as she suddenly felt urged to ride his cock even harder. It was wrong, all of it so wrong. She couldn’t deny how good it felt, or how badly she missed doing this with Gator. She turned away from the mirror, not ready to accept that there wasn’t an ounce of regret in her eyes. 

She gripped his chin, enjoying the soft stubble against her palm as she brought her mouth down upon his. He whined again, the sound vibrating across her lips as she moved her mouth against his harshly. She still liked kissing him and slightly feared that she wouldn’t ever enjoy kissing someone else. 

“Such a dirty bitch,” He groaned against her lips as his thrusts became more sporadic, his balls slapping against her flesh with each deep movement, “You’re so bad.” He replied huskily, mirroring her own pleasure as he knitted his eyebrows together. 

“Your bad girl,” She grinned breathlessly, her eyebrows furrowing as the pleasure raced up her spine, “S’all for you.” She sputtered out, feeling like her eyes were close to rolling into the back of her head. Her clit was throbbing, walls pulsing as she clenched around him. 

Her toes began to curl as she clung to him, desperately trying to pull him closer as she felt her climax approaching. She licked at his parted lips again, enjoying the whine that fell free from his mouth. He was always so vocal, so carnal when they were together. 

Her lips fell to his in a desperate way to hide her moans, to hide how good she felt as she approached her high. She gripped a hold of his bicep, squeezing tightly as his tongue flicked against her own. It was sloppy, wet as she came with a loud moan against his mouth. 

He covered his own grunts, his sounds coming out just a bit higher pitched as he pressed his cock deep inside of her. She whined, her walls throbbing as he came deep inside of her. She whimpered at the sensation of his warm spunk coating her cunt. 

He was breathing to the same temp she was, his fingertips lightly dragging against her skin as he peppered kisses along her mouth. Something about it felt domestic, even though she knew it wasn’t. He’d always had a habit to do this after. Still, it brought a smile to her lips. 

“So,” Gator drew out softly, glancing up at her with his warm brown eyes, “How are you going to explain this?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb into her soft hip. She looked down in surprise, flushing at the little lettered tattoo he covered.

“You have a matching one.” She pointed out quickly, feeling a little defensive of herself. She took special measurements to ensure that Hugh never saw it. Not that he had tried to see much of her bare skin anyways. 

“I’m not getting married.” He replied as he drew his finger across the G shape on her skin. She shrugged her shoulders a second later, suddenly feeling like she was on the spot. She wasn’t sure how she’d explain all of this to Hugh or if she even needed to. 

“Just a G,” She said as she raised her chin, “It could mean anything.” She said at last, peering her eyes up to meet his. They were warm, soft. She felt like she was melting instantly as they seemed to engulf her into a warm hug. 

“But it’s for something specific,” He pointed out, “Just like mine stands for something too.” He mumbled underneath his breath. She brought her fingers up to his cheek softly, pressing against his smooth skin gently. She felt like her tongue was suddenly tangled, filled with the words that she wanted to say but didn’t know how to. 

“I thought that was just a friendly bet.” She challenged him instead, forcing his cards onto the table instead. She waited, holding her breath in hopes that he would be the one to reveal what he wanted. 

“Maybe.” He spoke instead, his eyes trailing across her lips before he gazed up towards her again. She waited and waited, wishing she had a way to will him to speak his truth. He was confusing, just like always. 

“Are you hungry?” She asked instead, not wanting to leave heart out in the open to be crushed again. She’d revealed herself once before. He’d have to be the one to do it this time. 

“There’s an Olive Garden here.” He said softly, looking interested in her chest as he brought his thumb against her soft nipple. She enjoyed the sensation, feeling goosebumps beginning to spread across her skin. 

“Oh,” She grinned as she pursed her lips together, “Isn’t that your date spot?” She teased him, thinking about how proud he used to be when he’d brag about having dates there. It was cute. 

“You are my fiancée for the day,” He grinned at her, “I should spoil you.” He mumbled as moved his hand away from her boob and placed it on her soft hip instead. She hoped he couldn’t see her shivering from the sensation. 

“With Olive Garden,” She teased him, puckering her lips out softly, “Sounds delicious. You’re paying then.” She told him truthfully, beginning to realize that she really would enjoy pretending that he was her fiancé for the day. 

“All on me,” He grinned, “They got that all you can eat pasta deal. Order from there and you can have as much as your little heart desires.” He replied as he smacked her ass, making a grin spread across her lips. 

[anns-works]

League Of Jay Tings (bc that right there? wasted potential)

The customizable character was a cool-ass feature and one of the best ideas Unagami had for the game. Even before Jay got sucked in, there were players running around with the ninjas as their skin.

(Scott got bored at one point and spent his time antagonizing the Red Visors in a Gold Ninja skin that was ridiculously expensive. Hw also lost a life. Totally worth it.)

On that note, I would like to point out that Jay and Scott's skins appear to be similar, so I'm guessing its one of the defaults that they ended up customizing (I imagine its like putting on a mustache or hat on minecraft Steve and calling it a day.

So, Jay's early days mainly included trailing around Scott cuz he was the only interaction he had with another person that wasn't just an NPC.

They finally encounter another another player but this one has a (surprise!) Blue Ninja skin. wat resulted was a ten minute long standoff between Jay and the other player which involved a lot of pointing and unintelligible noises.

The player bolted. Jay followed them screaming the entire time. Scott also followed cuz this was the most entertainment he's had in a long time. It's a miracle they haven't been discovered by any of the Visors yet.

The played leads them to a hideaway that had a LOT of people, all equipped with Blue Ninja skin.

Scott's previous amusement quickly turns into horror as he quietly goes what the fuck over and over again. Jay gets an idea like you know what, lets use this.

and basically thats how the League of Jay born in Scott's garage through Jay's ''diabolical" plan (he's making a safe hangout space for these kids and also letting them cause chaos)

(For convenience sake, lets just refer to og Jay as SRJ (after his gamer tag) ft. some of the other Jays from the league! w/ their nicknames. DeeJay777 is Dee. Jay22Walkin is Walker. BlueJay6669 is Blue. JayBird9000 is Birdy.)

Most of the things these gremlins do is mainly going around to vandalize stuff. Scott is apparently the "Master of Color" or whatever that may entail. It just basically means he can go around graffitiing "UNAGAM I UR MOMAS A HOE" or other stuff like that.

And back to the whole customizable skin bit, it was an instant hit cuz of the opportunities it presented. You could be a guy. You could be a girl. You could be as sexy as a kpop idol (is that in thing in ninjago?). You could be an eldritch creature beyond mortal comprehension if you're willing to spend up a few units.

Dee enjoys not having tits for a while. Birdy also loves the whole transmasc feeling. SRJ just updated his skin to be Like That™ to give everyone gender envy.

Unagami once released a feature in the game that would let you access different levels and mini-games based on your selected binary gender (back when that was still a thing). The League hated it and let him know dearly. So Unagami changed it into something else and threw in a couple units in the mix (a goddamn dance competition). This was an instant hit. They planed their next updates based on the League's reactions.

Unagami: I didn't realize it was you at first. But some of your actions proved to be quite educational.

SRJ, flashback to that one time he wrote "UNAGAMI I FUCKD U MAMA HERE" on a wall cuz he was feeling pissy: Sure man, don't mention it.

Also on that note, SRJ DEFINITELY founded the ninjago LGBTQA+ community. I meant ninjago in itself is a pretty non-heteronormative society and you can kiss whoever you want with no issue. But everyjay was trapped in the lair w/o Scott out nothing to do and he's bored out of his goddamn mind and just suddenly suggests coming up w/ names for different sexual orientations cuz why not? taxonomy is fucked but they're bored.

Walker has an anthropology degree and Birdy is studying gender so might as well begin.

After getting out they get awarded by the NU for their fantastic discovery.

SRJ gave up the mansion he inherited from Cliff Gordon to Scott and it sort of turned into a hangout spot for the League.

One League member said on Chirp (jokingly) that the League of Jay should have their own social media platform cuz they're too weird and are apparently freaking out people on Chirp. They get a reply from Blue who tells them she'll look into it, and two months later there's a new social media in town.

Lentils and beans of all sizes, I give to you TRip, ninjago tumblr. The buckwild experience ever. A huge hit among the serpentine immedietly.

Those iconic posts but ninjago style. Red floor at Darkley's. the three weed smoking ninjas. Don't you love the color of the gi. I like your shoelaces, thanks I stole them from samurai x. Garage ballpit.

[mrsbarnesxxx]

Mockingbird

Prompt: You get kidnapped by hydra on a mission and Bucky has to comfort your daughter as he puts her to bed. Sam watches and is...slightly concerned.

TW: dark themes, implied violence/killing, fluff, Bucky as a dad (because I feel like that deserves a warning of its own), LANGUAGE!

Where is she? It's a day past when she was supposed to be back.

"Daddy?" Hailey says walking up to me with her blanket in hand. My face softens and I squat down to her level.

"Yes sweetheart?" I say.

"Wheres mommy?" She asks.

"Mommy's still out right now." I say trying to hide the flicker of pain and fear in my eyes.

"Is mommy okay?" She asks.

"Mommy's fine sweetheart. She just got a little bit lost." I say.

"Mommy's lost?" She asks upper lip trembling.

"Now hush little baby. Everythings gonna be alright. Stiffen that upper lip up little lady, I told ya. Daddy's here to hold ya through the night. I know mommy's not here right now, and we don't know why we feel how we feel inside. It may seem a little crazy, pretty baby, but I promise mama's gon' be alright." I say picking her up and holding her crying form to mine stoking her hair.

"And if you ask me to, daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. I'ma give you the world. I'ma buy a diamond ring for you, I'ma sing for you. I'll do anything for you to see you smile." I say sweetly before noticing she's asleep. I stand up and carry her to her bed. I stroke her hair one last time. Sam sneaks in to check on me unknown to me.

"And if that mockingbird don't sing, and that ring don't shine. I'ma break that birdie's neck. I'll go back to the jeweler who sold it to ya. And make him eat every carat. Don't fuck with dad."

I turn around to see Sam standing in the doorway with a shocked expression on his face.

"Fuck'd you expect? I'm the winter soldier after all." I say pushing past him pulling on my jacket. "Watch her, I'm going to get her mom back."

[wonderlandleighleigh]

(OKAY! A LorelaI-esque proposal from Midge to Lenny. LET’S GO!)

She gets a note in the middle of a broadcast that simply reads “your father at Sinai” and she rushes off the sound stage to her dressing room, snatches up her coat and purse and hauls ass to the hospital.

A million possibilities flit through her mind as to why her father might be in the hospital, and when she gets to his room after talking to the nurses, she finds him sitting up in the bed, looking dazed, but in oddly good spirits with Lenny sitting next to him in a chair, reading the newspaper out loud.

She doesn’t have it in her to let her boyfriend finish the sentence, rushing inside. “Papa, what happened?”

“Miriam!” Abe cries, turning to her. There are dark circles under his hazy eyes, and he’s smiling as if he’s a cartoon with little birdies flying around his head.

Lenny closes the newspaper. “A very angry theater owner lobbed a tomato at his head, and he slipped and hit his head.”

“Oh, my god!” Midge cries, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking her father’s hand.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Abe tells her, patting her hand gently. “Just a little concussion. Lenny found me and called an ambulance, which I think was an overreaction.”

“Where’s Mama?” Midge asks.

“She’s getting some tea,” Lenny tells her. 

She takes a breath and rubs her father’s arm gently. “I need to talk to Lenny outside for a moment.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I can read the paper myself,” Abe assures her, squeezing her hand gently.

Lenny gives a discreet shake of his head that, no, Abe cannot actually read right now, but he hands over the paper anyways and gets to his feet. “Here you go, Abe. We’ll be back in a moment.”

They leave the room and Lenny starts talking again.

“He’s really going to be fine,” he assures her. “The doctors just want to keep him overnight to keep an eye on things, and they think he’ll be good as new by morning. Your brother is on his way from DC, and the Maisels are also coming.”

“You called Joel?” Midge asks, bewildered.

“Moishe. Infinitely less shitty,” Lenny tells her.

“How did you even find him?” she asks.

“I was meeting him for a cup of coffee,” Lenny shrugs. “He wanted to take a break from the paper for an hour or two, and invited me out. I was meeting him at the Voice, and found him slumped over in the alley.”

Midge stares at him for a long, long moment. Her parents have never liked a man she’s been with as much as Lenny. Her father adores him outright and her mother at the very least considers his existence and feelings more than she has anyone else she’s been with. He even called her ex’s family, knowing how close-knit everyone still is.

Fuck, she loves this man.

“Will you marry me?” she asks out of the blue.

Lenny blinks, looking confused. “Uh...”

She stares at him. She knows she should be losing her mind at the four words that just fell out of her mouth, but she’s not.

She’s really not.

“Is this a bit?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at her.

Midge shakes her head. “It’s not a bit.”

Lenny swallows, standing silently, a little bewildered. “I...you really want to marry me?”

She nods slowly. “I really do.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you?” he asks.

She shrugs. “When have we ever done anything the way other people do?”

“Good point,” he mutters, taking her hands and pulling her in gently. “Fuck it. Let’s get married.”

Midge beams, leaning up on her toes to kiss him softly, but pulls away quickly. “But we should probably tell my mother that you proposed because otherwise she may murder me.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to die before we make it down the aisle,” Lenny jokes softly, kissing her again.