#ch; danielle yorke

[wardenparker]

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 10

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.    

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Fluffy Jack being old fashioned, low key voice kink, reference to food play, panty ripping because we are shameless, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, unexpected exhibitionist/voyeur kink Summary: You and Jack take a step forward on the last night of your family’s stay in Louisville, and Tex returns home with his newly minted soulmate just in time for Bobby’s going away party. Notes: I love getting to a sex scene and being surprised to find a character has a kink that I didn’t expect 😂 As always, the chosen gif has no reflection on the reader’s appearance. It’s the emotion that counts.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

On the last day of your family's stay in Louisville, an adventure to the Louisville Slugger factory and museum ended with personalized souvenir bats for everyone and extremely good moods all around. Tomorrow morning your siblings will go their respective ways to return home and your parents will go on to spend a few days at Dollywood, and you and Jack will take another step toward your new normal. The first therapy session went well, and you have another scheduled for next week, so really...it's remarkable how settled you feel considering it was only a few days ago that you were a literal captive in an abattoir in New York City. It seems an entire lifetime away, except for the nightmares, which even seem to dissipate when you wake up from them in Jack's arms in Jack's bed.

“How about we grill tonight?” Jack suggests to you, scratching his head. It’s been a trial trying to keep you from working too hard to play hostess to your family. He can see how much you love it, but you are still recovering.

"Are you thinking burgers, or something more elaborate?" Hanging out in the backyard has been everyone's favorite place to be anyway. A little backyard barbecue for their last night in Louisville might be a fun idea. You won't point out - this time - that he's chosen a method of cooking that he excels at instead of you.

“Maybe a little bit of both?” Jack offers. “Hamburgers for the kiddos and I can introduce your family to Kentucky barbecue. Just gotta start the smoker.”

"We can do that." Sitting on the porch swing with him while your brother-in-law plays with the kids, you tip your head back to lean on his shoulder. "I can get my sister to help me with cornbread and coleslaw. Since I know you'll watch me like a hawk if I try to do it myself."

“You are supposed to be resting and I caught you in the kitchen first thing this morning.” Jack huffs at you, narrowing his eyes playfully. He doesn’t want you to feel smothered but this time is good for you to rest.

"I am resting, honey." The mere minutes of time it took you to put together a tray of things for bagels and some fruit salad compared to what you would normally do is laughable, but you know Jack is just trying to take care of you. "I didn't even start baking for Bobby’s party tomorrow. I had like six different things planned but I promise I’ve narrowed it down to only things I can do tomorrow morning."

“I swear, you don’t know the meaning of rest.” Jack grumbles. “I’m going to have to whisk you away to a private island where the only thing you can do is drink whiskey and lay in the sun.”

"Sounds like a very nice vacation." You grin, having grown to love the difference in Jack's affectionate grumbles versus when he is actually upset. When it's affectionate, it means you can tease him. "I don't think I've taken a vacation since I was still in high school."

“That’s a damn shame.” He huffs at you, watching you stick your tongue out at him. He reaches out and taps the tip of your tongue with his finger.

"Never had the time or the money." Shrugging makes it seem like it's not a big deal, especially because you don't want to get bogged down in anything too serious when Jack has been in such a good mood today. "No rest - or vacations - for the wicked."

“Then once you get the restaurant rollin’ we’ll have to go somewhere.” Jack decides. “You’ll tell me where you’ve always wanted to go and that’s what we’ll do.”

There are so many places you've dreamed of going. Places you've dreamed of seeing and food you've dreamed of eating, that you shrug your shoulders and sigh wistfully. "Japan, Australia, Morocco, France, Scotland, Thailand, Mexico, Egypt... we could go anywhere and I'd enjoy it. Just...as long as we do it together."

Jack chuckles, opening his arms and inviting you in for a hug. Those have become second nature for the two of you now. “So one big world tour.”

"Maybe." The sound and vibration of his laugh warms through you like summer sun. "Maybe we'll choose a different place every year for as long as we want."

“I like that.” He knows you would want to try the food. Spend time in each location and really learn them. “We could do that easily.”

"Then that's what we'll do." Curled into his arms, with your head on his shoulder and breath mingling together, it's easy to think of the future in such wide open terms. Like anything is possible. With him, it really feels like it is. "Maybe one day we'll find a favorite, but we'll try as many different places as we want."

“So you okay with me cookin’ tonight?” Jack asks you softly. “Catering to you for once?”

"As long as you don't stop me from helping just a little." When he frowns you put on a pronounced pout, being playful if nothing else. "I hate having nothing to do Jack, you know that. I promise to have help and to keep it to a minimum."

“Just the sides.” He tells you pointedly. “You won’t touch the grill or the smoker.”

"Deal." One hand held out to him to seal the deal, the other is twined through his at your shoulder. Anyone who could see the two of you now would be astonished to hear that you were ever at odds - all they would see is a couple that is completely enchanted with each other.

He grins and winks at you. “Now you get to experience some of my cookin’ and I expect you to be truthful.” He warns you. “No tryin’ to baby my feelin’s.”

"I promise to be honest." You give him a mock salute with a very serious face. "But I believe in you. You have too good of a palette to be a terrible cook."

“I make my own sauce and rubs.” He boasts, smirking slightly and winking at you.

"Oh yeah?" He's like a peacock almost instantly, chest puffed up and chin tilted to put his nose proudly in the air, and you can't help but giggle when he's playful like this. "You planning on showing off for me? Give me a run for my money so we're the ones all our friends want a dinner invitation from?"

"Absolutely." Jack teases. "They will want to come over when I'm cookin' for free and come to haunt your restaurant and pay dearly."

"Just think of what we'll be able to achieve when we join forces." Placing a kiss on both of his cheeks, you drop one more on his forehead before sitting back in his arms again. "This house seems made for summer parties. It's going to be fun."

"I think that was the point." Jack admits as he looks around the house that had quickly come to feel more like a home with you and your family invading every nook and cranny.

"If summer comes and I haven't driven you totally crazy, we'll have to throw a party." Even though you know he has a summer birthday, you would never bring it up now that you know why he doesn't celebrate the day. It would just be a nice summer get together for friends, nowhere near that day in August.

"Whenever you want, sugar." Jack drops a kiss on your nose and smirks. "Now....let me go get everything ready for you to have the best barbecue you've ever had." He promises.

"Yes, sir." You shift away from him and stretch, tossing him a wink before you skip down the porch steps to join your siblings in sunbathing near what will soon be the vegetable garden. As soon as you have the time and the supplies to make it one. "You guys sick of me yet?" You laugh, knowing that the three of you rarely got tired of each other's company. "Ready to go home tomorrow?"

"I've decided I'm going to move here." Your sister is kidding, but she smiles lazily over at you as she lounges in the deck chair that she has claimed as her own for the entire trip. "There is something about this place that I can't quite clock, but it's the safest I've ever felt anywhere."

"Now you see why I fell in love with it so fast." Nothing would be happier than for Eliza and Ed and the kids to move down to Louisville, but you know they're happy where they are. Only a new job would get them to even consider it, and Statesman isn't exactly hiring doctors at the moment. "One day here and I knew it was going to be the right decision."

Your parents are down at the distillery again, your father falling in love with Statesman all over again and your mother shamelessly indulging him while you are here. Eliza looks around and then stares at you seriously. "Is that why you came running to New York looking heartbroken?"

"It's..." You blow out a breath, falling back on the lawn chair beside her. "It's a complicated story."

"And?" She senses that it's not exactly something that you want to talk about right now, so she decides not to press. "You're sure you are happy here?"

“Jack and I had trouble in the beginning, you know that.” Your sister, above anyone else, knows that you struggled with where your heart lay when you first arrived at Statesman. She was on the receiving end of every phone call. “We…we had a fight. That’s why I went to the city. We had a screaming match and I got overwhelmed. It was just supposed to be a couple of days fucking around New York with Matt to take my mind off things and…” When you shrug, it’s half so you can avoid talking about being kidnapped and half to keep up the front that what you were involved in is an ongoing investigation. “Things got out of hand. But we’re talking now. And Jack and I are making things work. So…I actually am happy. It just took a little while to get here.”

“I still don’t understand why he was so resistant to another soulmate.” Eliza huffs, still not completely trusting that this is the whole story. More like your mother than she’s ever willing to admit.

“He loved Abigail a lot. Isn’t that understandable?” Since Jack had said he was okay with giving your family the old story of what happened to his first wife and unborn child - what he had thought was the truth for so long - so don’t worry about talking to them about it. Your brother and sister do their best to be understanding and sympathetic people in general. “He felt like it was being disloyal to her memory to have another. And considering second soulmates are supposed to be a myth anyway? I get it.”

“I guess.” She frowns and sighs. “I just love you, you know that right? That’s the only reason I’m worrying.”

“I know.” You loop your arm around her and hug her tight. “I love you too. And you’re entitled to kick his ass if he ever makes me sad again, how about that?”

“You know I will.” That is a promise. You are too loving to have your heart stomped on by some – albeit hot – cowboy.

“But either way, he’s making dinner for us tonight.” The promise of good food will perk up anyone in your family, and you laugh when both of your siblings immediately sit up. “I’m taking volunteers to help with sides.”

“I’ll help you.” Your brother and sister both immediately volunteer. The way you have been napping has them both aware that something has happened to cause their normally tireless sister to be a little slower.

“With three sets of hands we might even manage to make some dessert without Jack worrying.” You flash them both a smile. “I know you’ll be back for the opening in barely a couple of weeks, but I’m so glad you guys came to visit.”

“Of course we were coming.” Eliza looks almost offended that you would even think that they wouldn’t come. “We were worried sick until your co-worker called us to tell us you were okay. Mom almost came through the phone at her.”

“I’m sorry you were worried.” It sits like a lump in your throat, the heaviness of what really happened, but for once you’re glad you can’t tell them the truth. If they knew what had really happened to you last weekend they would never let you out of their sight again. Just like Jack is doing. “Everything is okay now. That’s what matters.”

“Yeah but you know them.” Your brother rolls his eyes like he wasn’t the one who had filed the report. “They like to worry.”

“Sure, Matty. It was all them.” You shake your head and pinch his side. “I’ll thank mom and dad for contacting the police, then.”

“Shut up.” He grumbles at you, giving you a pout of brotherly affection. Of course he had been worried. You had come to him so upset and on the verge of shutting down and then disappeared.

"Love you too, big brother." It might be said with teasing, but you reach over to give him a hug and pull your siblings up with you to head into the kitchen.

Jack, for his part, takes the role of providing your meal very seriously. He had Champ keep the brisket over at his house to marinate last night and it’s not too long before it’s put on the smoker to fill the back yard with its mouth watering scent.

When your parents eventually wander back from their last distillery tour and tasting, the sides are ready, dessert is done, and Jack very nearly has the brisket finished. Better timing couldn't have been achieved if he had timed it all out with care.

"I don't know what to tell you, kiddo," your mother grins, pressing a kiss to the top of your head when she hugs you. "But it smells like your soulmate has a talent for the only cooking skill you never worked on."

“She doesn’t know how to grill?” Jack asks as he pops back into the kitchen to get a pan. “I’m surprised about that.”

“It’s less doesn’t know how and more that the work never went into mastering it.” Your father shrugs, leaning back against the counter when Jack comes in. “Not a lot of barbecue in classical French cuisine, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that she isn’t lacking for barbecue when she’s got a hankerin’ for it.” Jack tells him, knowing that he would keep the smoker running if you wanted him to.

“There was…maybe a year or so? When she was a teenager.” He looks to your mother for clarification, who nods. “Where she would always request it. Dinners, special occasions, everything. Any time we were eating as a family she wanted to go for barbecue.” Your father chuckles at the memory, obviously a fond one now. “Turned out she had a crush on one of the people who owned the one barbecue place in our little town.”

Jack chuckles and shakes his head, totally able to see it. “I don’t blame her if that’s the case. I’d eat a lot of anything she makes to spend more time with her.”

“I think,” your father intones, crossing his arms and glancing at his wife - his own soulmate - before turning back to Jack. “That maybe it’s prudent for all of us to have a chat before we leave?”

For a moment, the small, indulgent smile on Jack’s face slips. Worried that your parents might not approve of the relationship after all. Despite being polite, that doesn’t mean that they had any intention of allowing Jack with their daughter. “Why don’t you follow me outside.” He glances towards the kitchen where you and your siblings are laughing. “More privacy.”

The smack on the arm your mother gives her husband before he turns to follow Jack outside is pointed, and she hangs back to sit with her grandchildren before they need their nap. This conversation is not her idea, and she doesn’t think it’s necessary.

When Jack finds just your father following him, he turns back towards the outdoor kitchen. “Beer? Or does the conversation warrant something stronger?” He asks over his shoulder.

“Beer is good.” He’s not trying to scare the younger man, after all. Not trying, but if Jack does happen to shake in his boots a little, Jeff won’t be upset about that.

“Sounds good.” Jack moves over to the small fridge and pulls out two beers. Popping the cap off the tops and handing one to your father. Waiting for the other man to start the conversation as he takes a pull of the beer.

A sip of his drink comes first, but Jeff doesn't get in Jack's way as he moves around the grill area to tend to dinner. "Look," he leans back against the porch railing. "You're not kids. I'm not trying to intimidate you or dictate your actions, or anything like that. But she's my little girl and I'd be remiss if I didn't at least talk to you about her."

“I understand where you are coming from.” Jack does, he really does. He probably would have the same conversation if he was the father of a daughter. “What would you like to know?”

"It's less what I want to know and more of what I want to make sure that you know." He admits, taking another sip of his beer before he puts the bottle down beside him. "She was never the little girl that played princess first, or wrote her boyfriend's name out on her notebooks, or planned out her wedding with her friends. Not that we ever saw. But her baby sister...when Eliza wanted to do those things, it would make her sister just light up. It was like..." he sighs, taking another sip and looking for the words. "Like she was waiting for permission to dream. I know we raised her to be quick and smart and self-sufficient, but I'd hate to think that she's gone into adulthood with that same hesitancy. Just...just make sure she talks to you, Jack. That she opens up about what she wants. Because the only answer she ever used to give was that she wanted her own restaurant, and I know there's got to be more than that."

“I will.” Jack nods, frowning slightly as he stares at his bottle, the heat already making the condensation slide down the sides. “I’ve not been a good soulmate so far.” It might not be the best idea to be this honest, but he feels like he needs to be. “I was a pretty rotten one, and I hurt her. But–” he sighs. “I want nothing more than to make her happy. To give her the world if I can. To travel to all the places she wants to go, do the things that she wants to do. I want to make a life with her.”

"You'll make it up to her." Your father doesn't even make it a suggestion, it's more like an order. "Or else she won't have anything to do with you. I learned that when she was a teenager."

“Everyday.” Jack promises easily, taking another swig of his beer as he tries to dispel the image of your limp body in the back of that SUV. “Lucky for me, she’s got an amazing capacity for forgiveness.”

"Gets that from her mother." He huffs an awkward kind of chuckle in return. "I hold a grudge like a motherfucker. But those women? Angels. Who knows how they manage it." Both men are silent for a moment, letting the thought linger between them. "Are there plans?" He asks after the quiet lingers a little too long and becomes awkward. "You and her, have you made plans for that life you want to build?"

“I imagine there will be soon.” Jack frowns slightly, not sure how much you’ve told your father. “I’ve been married before. My soulmate. She was– she was killed while pregnant.” Jack explains quietly. “But I do remember asking her daddy for permission to marry her.” His eyes met your father’s. “When we are ready for that, I expect I’ll be makin’ a trip up to see you.”

“Honestly a little surprised you’re not asking right now,” your father admits, holding Jack’s gaze. “But I’m not going to rush you.”

“I want her to be comfortable with the idea.” Jack admits softly. “And I want to make sure that my past doesn’t haunt her.”

“Most people wouldn’t wait for the adjustment period.” As much as Jeff thinks of it as his job to protect his three kids, he knows you and your siblings are all grown. The oldest has been married and divorced and the youngest has a husband and two kids of her own. You have always been the question mark in the family, right up until he saw you with Jack. There’s no question in his mind now that this is the person you’ve been waiting for - second soulmate or otherwise. “I tell you what, Jack.” He sighs, glancing back over his shoulder at the house to make sure you’re not nearby. “When you’re ready, I have her grandmother’s ring in the safe at home. It’s nothing too flashy, but her grandma Jane meant the world to her and I know she’d be happy to wear it.”

“Thank you.” Jack flashes your father a grin and sighs in relief. “I have a feeling that time will come sooner than I imagine, but we’ll see.” He chuckles.

“Whenever the two of you decide is best.” Is it the life he imagined for you from the time you were just a little peanut in his arms? Maybe not. But you’re not the woman he imagined all those years ago, either. You’re better — you’re you.

Jack nods, grateful that it’s not a different kind of conversation but that’s not a bad thing. “I have talked to her about moving in.” He offers your father. “So maybe I should ask you for your permission.” He ponders.

The other man chuckles quietly, feeling like he’s listening to Jack ponder out loud. “Should I bring the ring down when we come back for the opening?”

“I think that would be very appropriate.” Jack agrees, frowning slightly as he wonders if you would feel overwhelmed if he proposed to you after the opening of your restaurant or if it would just add happiness to the occasion. “So let me formally ask you.” Jack sets his bottle down and straightens his shoulders. “Your daughter is my soulmate, and I love her. I want to protect her and cherish her with everything that I am. May I have your blessing to ask her to marry me?”

“Keep making her happy. And keep her talking to you.” Your father puts down his own bottle and straightens up, putting his hand out to Jack. “And for the love of god, don’t elope. Her mother would be broken-hearted.”

“Never.” Jack can promise that. He didn’t do it with Abigail and he wouldn’t take that away from you. Even if it was something small and intimate, he wants you to have the wedding you want.

“Then you have my blessing, for whatever kind of life you want to build together.” You would huff and call them both old-fashioned for this, but the truth is that this is just two people trying their best to take care of you. “Be good to her, Jack.”

He hadn’t been. He knows this. However, he planned on making sure that you were never distressed or upset because of him again. “Yes sir.” He nods solemnly, the seriousness of the moment not lost on him. “Thank you.”

“There you two are.” It hadn’t taken an extreme amount of effort to find them, but the table is set and everything is ready except for the meat. “Do you need another set of hands to help, babe?”

“Nawww, I should have it.” Jack immediately turns towards you with a slow, sugary smile. A little emotional from the conversation and he pulls you close for a quick kiss. “About to pull everything off.”

“Whatever you two were talking about, keep it up,” you tease, not the least bit embarrassed to steal a second kiss with your father right there. Jack is so soft right now that you wouldn’t sacrifice it for anything.

******

Dinner turned out to be a complete success, everyone raving over Jack’s barbecue. Making him smirk at you and volunteering his services whenever you wanted some for a special at your restaurant when it opens. Now with everyone’s bellies full and the evening winding down, Jack sends you ahead to bed to get ready while he finishes cleaning up the kitchen, figuring you might like to shower or soak in a bath.

Sometimes you swear you would have accepted the invitation to move in with Jack based on the master bathroom alone. The powerful shower with seemingly unlimited hot water is the best you’ve ever experienced, and the tub is definitely big enough for two people to lounge in. He had insisted that you bring over your bathrobe when you brought a few things from your house for the week, so now it’s hanging from the rack beside the marble countertop for when you step out. Smelling like him is a small bonus, considering Jack’s soap and shampoo smell like they were made for a lumberjack who stands on top of mountains in the crisp, cold morning to watch sunrise, and you end up just luxuriating in the hot water until you hear him come into the bedroom. That’s when you shut off the water and step out, wrapping yourself up in the terry cloth robe like a warm hug.

Walking into the bedroom finds it empty and Jack smirks as he looks towards the bathroom, knowing you are in there. He needs to shower, since he smells like a smoker, but he can wait until you are out. Instead, he's standing around looking at the small changes that you have made to his once cold bedroom. Things that are almost overlooked but it's very obvious to a man who has been a bachelor for nearly twenty years. The small notebook on the side of the bed you had claimed, where you write recipe ideas when they come to you. The way your general items are scattered on the dresser. He likes it.

“Hey handsome.” It doesn’t matter how ridiculous you look, dripping wet in a bath towel and fuzzy slippers, you open the bathroom door to let him in if he wants to share some while you brush your hair and teeth. “I know I’ve already said it, but dinner was amazing.”

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." He smirks at you and comes up to hold onto your waist, wrapping around you to kiss your ear. You hum as you load your toothbrush up and tilt your head to allow him more access to you. "You’re lookin' fresh faced and pretty tonight."

“And smelling very manly,” you joke, turning your head to kiss him properly in between his exploration of your neck and before you start brushing your teeth. Before or after is fine. During would be a bit messy.

“I like the way you smell.” His scent on your body drives him crazy and there has been more than one time where he’s had to take care of the nagging lust that always lives right under the surface since he's given into being near you.

You smile coyly at him in the mirror, raising one eyebrow. “I smell like you,” you point out before starting to brush your teeth. Not that you mind at all. Not even a little, actually.

“Yeah, sugar.” Jack’s voice dips down and he brushes another kiss over your skin. “Like I’ve wrapped myself around you and rubbed myself all over your body.”

The most articulate sound you can manage right now is a groan as you process that image - the therapist had said you were both clear headed enough for sex if it was what you both wanted, but you haven’t taken that step. So far you’ve been too tired from your recovery, so it’s been slow nights of drowning in each other’s kisses in bed - with Jack’s hands down your panties if things got rambunctious.

He chuckles against your skin, feeling himself start to harden. “But right now sugar? I need to clean up. Get the smell of smoke off me.”

"What if I like the smell of smoke?" You pose, spitting out excess toothpaste long enough to pout at him and then grin when he meets your eyes in the mirror. "Go clean up, baby. I'm going to get in bed and read."

Jack grunts, aware that his cock is twitching against your ass and he pulls his hips back. He doesn’t want to push you even if he knows you want to.

You've lost track of time, by the time Jack comes out of the bathroom, and look up over the top of your book when you spy him striding into the room. Squeaky clean but still damp from just toweling off, that towel is now wrapped around his waist when he comes into the bedroom to fish for a pair of boxers to sleep in. Fuck he looks good like that...you might be staring, but you don't care.

Jack knows you are looking and it feeds into his ego like nothing else. No one night stand cooing and lovin’ on him has the effect of his soulmate staring discreetly. He smirks at himself as he turns towards the drawer and ‘accidentally’ drops his towel.

"Whoops." It comes with a half-snort because you know damn well that he didn't do it by accident, and you set your bookmark back in your book to put it on the side table. "I'm sure that was very clumsy of you. And fully unintentional."

Jack throws a look over his shoulder with a grin. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He draws playfully. “Ain’t you supposed to be makin’ recipes? Or readin’?”

“Nice try.” Even if you hadn’t read it before, no book is more interesting than your bare assed naked soulmate. Especially when he’s previously been very careful about modesty to keep the both of you under control.

His chuckle accompanies him reaching into the drawer to pull out a pair of boxers. “Something you like on display, sugar? Didn’t think you liked tiny asses.”

It earns him another little laugh, and you pull the blankets back on his side of the bed. “I don’t keep my hand in your back pocket when we walk around because my fingers are cold, baby.”

“And here I was thinkin’ that you were trying to warm ‘em up.” Jack puts on a thicker accent for you right now, knowing how much it seems to affect you.

“Get in bed, cowboy.” It’s practically an order, but edged with enough begging to stroke Jack’s ego like he’s stroking your voice kink by playing with his accent.

“Yes ma’am.” Jack pretends to tilt an imaginary hat as he closes the drawer and turns around to stride cockily towards the bed.

There’s something to be said for the domesticity of such a moment. The easy way he slides into bed beside you and bundles you up in his arms, and the comfort of clean bodies cuddled up in the light of your bedside lamps like you had been doing this your whole lives. Now that you’re letting yourselves, it’s so easy to be together. “So…” you hum, snuggling up to him. “I saw my dad pull you outside tonight.”

“Yes.” Jack won’t deny that. Especially because you saw it. “He did.” He rubs his hand up and down your back.

“Anything I should know about?” It’s hard to imagine they needed to have a private conversation about whiskey or the grill, but who knows.

“Your father wanted to know my intentions.” Jack admits easily. “To tell me that I need to listen to you, help you dream.”

“He worries too much.” An exasperated sigh passes your lips and you place a kiss on Jack’s chest. “I already have my dreams.”

“I know.” Jack says teasingly. “Your tea room.” He knows you mean more than that, but he’s grinning as he needles you.

“And my soulmate.” There might be other things that you bluster about, but the love of the person you’re meant to be with and your dream job are the two things you’ve always been honest about wanting.

“And your soulmate.” Jack quietly repeats. He knows how important it is to you. To him honestly, now that he’s opened that possibility up again. Your happiness is the most important thing to him.

“So there’s nothing else to worry about.” The questions of marriage or kids or anything else are all secondary to just having him in your life.

He hums and thinks about things for a moment. "Would you...want to go home with me?" He asks softly. "To Montana? See the ranch. You don't have to."

“I absolutely will if you want me to.” At dinner, your parents had invited him to come up to New Hampshire with you any time, and this seemed like a natural extension of that invitation to you. But you do lean back a little to look him in the eye. “I would love to see where you’re from, honey. But if it’s going to hurt too much…reminding you of Abigail and the baby and all that…then we don’t have to.”

"It's been a long time since I've been home." Since he had left, if he were honest, but he wasn't going to bring that up. "Might be good to go see it...introduce you to 'em." He ventures, wondering if you will think it macabre or ghoulish to visit his former soulmate's grave.

“Do you still have family out there?” It’s not hard to tell when Jack has his mind set to something, and this seems like it’s quickly becoming an important idea to him. “Or is there maybe an event that you used to like going to? That we could go back for?”

"No family left." His father had died the year before Abigail. Heart attack, or he would wonder if Rollins had any hand in it now. "Just me."

“No cousins or anything?” That surprises you, but you smooth your furrowed brow so he doesn’t get the impression that you’re judging him for something he has no control over. “Who’s running the ranch?”

"I hired a board of directors to handle things for me." Jack huffs. "Or....Champ did." Champ had taken care of that task to where Jack only had to handle the yearly reports and even then it was more of a cursory glance. He had honestly anticipated the fuckin' thing going to the Statesman conglomerate when he died.

“We should go.” There’s a wistfulness and a worry in his expression that is begging to be soothed, and you run your hand gently up and down his side. “We can see the ranch, you can show me where you grew up, and we can visit Abigail and your son. Would that…would that be a good trip for you?” Of course you’re curious to see where he came from, but the last thing you want to do is hurt him with memories.

Jack bites his lip, swallowing harshly when you are the one that brings up his wife. "I– I would l-like that." He manages, his voice cracking slightly in surprise and so much gratitude. His hold on you tightens. "I would like that a lot." It feels like Jack has a sense of closure now that Abigail's death has been explained. It wasn't some random act of violence that he couldn't rationalize. It was targeted. She was targeted. It had helped to know that more than he ever thought it would.

“We’ll bring flowers.” That’s what you do whenever you visit your own family’s graves, and in some ways you suppose Jack’s lost loved ones are a part of your family now. In an extended and loving memory sort of way. “Whenever you want to go, honey.”

“We need to get through your opening and at least the first few months, I think.” Jack looks to you. “Right?”

“Maybe we could go at the end of the summer or beginning of fall?” The land would still be in bloom and going during the heat of summer might be too close to their death date for him. Considering he doesn’t celebrate his birthday you doubt he wants that big of a reminder. “I would think that…earlier in August might be…a lot harder.”

"That would work." Jack nods, considering it. "There's nothing like fall on the ranch." He admits wistfully. "Especially when the trees start changing colors up in the mountains."

“Fall, then.” Placing a kiss over his heart, you offer Jack a soft smile. “I’m honored that you want to share that part of yourself with me.”

"Just...." Jack picks up your hand and kisses it softly. "Be patient with me when we go?" He asks, knowing that he might have to go quite a few therapy sessions before taking you, so he doesn't lash out or do something stupid.

“Honey, of course.” It seems like you shouldn’t be able to get any closer, but you nudge that much nearer to him and brush some damp hair from his forehead. “And if you decide to put the trip off until spring or even next fall, that’s just fine. The ranch isn’t going anywhere and neither am I.”

"Hmmm, thank you." He squeezes your back gently and his hand starts to drift down towards your ass as a natural progression. Having you in his bed has made it hard to keep his hands to himself on the best days and he was still in a playful mood.

“Serious conversation and then an ass grab, huh?” Sure you might be teasing him a little less, but you’re still you. It’s still fun. “Still in a good mood, Mr. Daniels?”

"Sugar, I'm finding that I've been in a good mood since that first nap with you." He tells you seriously. "Especially when I get to see that gorgeous smile on your face."

“Hmm…” He’s being so damn sweet and sincere tonight, and you’re just soaking it all in like sunbeams. “I wonder why that could be?”

"I don't know." He teases back. "Might be because your parents and siblings haven't strung me up for makin' you cry. Or because I'm currently in bed with a very sexy woman."

“If anybody would’ve gotten out the noose it would have been my sister, and it would have been immediate.” And since you would have done the same to defend her if she needed it, you can’t blame her in the least. But your little sister had listened when you told her that Jack was actively fixing things and making an effort. “I’m thinking it probably has a tiny bit more to do with having a half-undressed woman in your bed.”

"Yes." Jack's voice dips slightly, taking on a smokier sound. "That. That is a big reason why I've been in such a good mood." Despite not having sex, he's more relaxed with you here and he doesn't want you to leave when your family goes home tomorrow.

“I’ve been thinking…” Some might not consider three days a whole lot of time to think, but getting to spend so much uninterrupted time with him has been good for you. When Jack doesn’t have his guard up, he is as sweet and as appealing as apple pie with all the charm of the most attentive Southern gentleman. “And I think…” Finding his eyes in you, you fluster a little and bury your face in his shoulder. “It’d be a shame to go back to my own place.”

"I think you're right." Jack agrees softly, relieved that you seem to be on the same page as he is. "Wasted opportunities to hold you. When you go back to work, I know you aren't going to be able to be under my wing the entire day."

“I’ll text you when I get downtime,” you promise him, stretching to kiss the nearest bit of his skin you can manage - which right now is the slope of his chest just below his neck. “So you don’t worry.”

“Just wear your bracelet for me, sugar.” He requests, remembering how his heart had dropped when he had seen it on your counter.

“Always.” You pick up your hand that had been tucked in beside him to show the delicate chain with its innocent looking charm to show him that you’re wearing it even now. “I only take it off to shower now.”

“Okay.” He knows it’s a little bit of paranoia, since you will be on Statesman property, but Ginger is still going through all the personnel files to make sure another intruder hasn’t slipped through the cracks.

“It’s okay.” It’s an understatement to say that you understand now. “From now, I’m coming home to you at night.”

"Yeah?" Jack smirks slightly and bites his lips at the prospect of having you in his bed every single night. "I like the sound of that, sugar. Hand to God, I do."

“I do, too.” There’s barely any more space to move in, but you reach up and place a kiss on his lips and sigh softly. The kiss starts off soft, but need and hunger makes Jack reach up and grip the back of your neck as he deeps it with the slide of his tongue against your lips. Groaning when you eagerly open for him.

Every night has been like this. Sliding into bed together and having a little pillow talk before you indulge a little in each other without ever pushing the boundary that you’ve set for yourselves. It’s been a blissful few days, if you’re honest, and even though you know the second he signals being ready you’ll be throwing your own clothes off the side of the bed in a big goddamn rush.

That need, the underlying hunger that seems to invade every single touch and kiss is working overtime tonight. Making Jack grip your hips and urge you on top of him, wanting to feel your warmth and weight. The heat of your damp panties pressing against the rapidly expanding tent in his boxers.

The heat grows faster tonight than it usually does, something in the breath you share feeling more addictive or maybe just hungrier. You find yourself grinding your hips down on him without thinking and moaning when his hands slip under your shirt. “Fuck sugar.” Jack groans, kissing down your throat as you roll your hips back and make him choke on his own breath. “You’re so fucking…sweet.”

“Sweet?” You might giggle if you weren’t busy moaning, but you tilt your head completely out of the way to let him lick and nip and suck every bit of skin he wants. “Tonight feels—” you gasp when he swipes his thumbs across your pebbled nipples in unison. “Fuck— definitely hotter.”

“Never eaten melted chocolate?” Jack groans, smirking slightly as you push your tits against his fingers a little more. Begging for him to repeat the move. “Sweet and hot.”

“I will go get the fudge sauce out of your kitchen so fucking fast.” It would be a nice follow up to yesterday when you had caramel sauce all over your hands making yourself a fancy latte before your family woke up and Jack had very carefully licked it off every digit.

Jack chuckles quietly and shakes his head. “No food play with your parents here.” He chides playfully.

Your pout is playful and your circle your hips in his lap again before reaching to pull your t-shirt over your head. There’s been enough modesty this week for two people planning on living together - you’re itching to take a bigger step forward. Jack has seen you naked. You’ve changed in front of him with no modesty, a move that made him grin. Now he groans, eyes feasting on your tits and he drags you down to his chest to feel them pressed against his chest.

He’s throbbing hard beneath you and the barriers of his boxers and your panties are performative at best. At this point you know damn well that he can feel how soaked your panties are, he can feel the difference in the neediness of every kiss.

Diving back into your mouth is like the anchor he needs to keep himself from keeling over. Groaning your name quietly, he manages to break away to look into your eyes. “What do you want, sugar?” He demands roughly.

“I—” You know the answer. What you’re aching for. But if he isn’t ready you won’t push him. “I want you,” you admit, looking everywhere but his eyes to avoid seeing disappointment. “But not if you’re not ready.”

Jack inhales roughly, expecting that answer but still being shocked when he hears it. “With your family here?” He asks, sliding his hands down your sides to grip your hips. “Tonight, sugar?”

“I can keep my voice down.” Another roll of your hips is a figure eight this time, and your eyes nearly roll back in your head when you feel him pulse underneath you. “Can you?”

It takes Jack a moment to be able to remember what you are talking about, let alone his own name when you grind against him like that. His fingers digging into your flesh and pulling you against him again. "I- y-yeah." He groans out brokenly. "Y-you sure?" He closes his eyes and tries to control himself before he looks back up at you seriously. This is a big step for the two of you and he wants you to not regret it.

“I’m sure, baby.” The seriousness of the moment isn’t lost on you, and you stop moving to leave a soft, sincere kiss on his lips. “I love you, Jack.”

He knows you are ready, the two of you have been ready physically since the day you met. It's the mental and emotional barriers that he had created that caused this delay. Now, Jack rolls you onto your back and smirks down at you, his eyes dark and flashing with need. "I love you too, sugar. Now I'm gonna show you how you ride a real cowboy."

If you were feeling pedantic, you might quibble about position and how you had just been in the perfect place to ride him - but honestly you’re too foggy from desire and the burning in your blood to do anything more than surge up to kiss him. The measly barriers of underwear were symbols of restraint more than anything, and you are extremely ready to pull his away so you can experience every inch of him.

Jack groans, enjoying the pure desire that is fueled by your kiss, his hands sliding down to the band of your panties and he smirks into your mouth before he shreds them easily.

Oh that should not make you moan so wantonly, but it’s a good thing you were kissing him when he did it otherwise your promise to keep the volume down would have been shot to hell immediately. “Fuck, baby.”

He chuckles quietly and moves the material away so he can slide his fingers against your wet slit. "You like that, sugar?"

“Show off,” you accuse him playfully, knowing that you’ve told him in the past that shows of physical strength are a turn on for you. “I’m already always soaking wet around you.”

He hums, sliding his fingers down to press into you. Something that he has done before but now he knows that you are going to feel more than just his fingers inside you. Wanting to make sure that you cum before he slides inside you.

“Fu—fuck.” One hand shoots out to clutch his shoulder and the other twines into the soft bed sheets as your hips roll down to meet his hand as deeply as you possibly can. Yes, you’ve enjoyed exploring with him, but you’ve wanted him since the day you met and you’re aching for him now that the chance is here.

Jack's hands are clever, quick. They have to be with the type of rope and pistol work that he does. Now, his trigger finger curls up inside you. seeking the spongy spot that makes your back arch and your gasps turn desperate. Ready to drink down the sounds like a man dying of thirst while he kisses you and pushes you towards the edge.

You squirm but open up for him like a spring flower, legs spread open as wide as you can manage to give him ample room to explore. All you’ve wanted for months is to drown in him and now you’re clinging to him like a life preserver as he rockets you out over an ocean of pleasure.

“That’s it, sugar.” Jack coos in your ear, butterflying kisses along your jaw while the wet heat of your cunt surrounds his fingers. “Give it to me. Let me feel your sweetness.”

He’s well practiced at this - with plenty of partners before you, yes, but also just from the last few days together. He knows exactly the right way to quirk his wrist and exactly the right way to curl his fingers, making you gasp and chase the sensation of his fingers filling you every time he pulls them out only to thrust them back into you with more dexterity than before. He plays you like an instrument until you bow and threaten to break, with one hand clamped over your mouth so you don’t cry his name for the whole house to hear as you fall apart at the seams and flood his hand with your sticky release.

It is only because of your family down the hall that he doesn't let you cry out. When they leave, he will. Letting your sweet sounds fill the bedroom, hell, the house. Wanting to hear it. Now he just groans, his lips pressed against your hand, as if trying to kiss you through the barrier. "Good girl." He murmurs. "Good girl, sugar."

The way he coos at you is borderline criminal but combines somewhere in the back of your head with riding him and you swear you’d let this unhinged cowboy put a damn bit and bridle on you if it turned out to be some wild kink of his. The thought flies out of your head as soon as it enters, blissfully blanking out with white hot pleasure. Only when you’re sure you won’t shout do you move your hand away, pouring a moan into his mouth instead.

Only when your body can't give him any more does he still his fingers. Watching as you relax into the bed and the sugary smile of pleasure graces your face. "Was it good for you?" He asks, smug in your eventual response when you can catch your breath.

“You’re so fucking cocky,” you drawl in reply, giggling under your breath when you surge up to kiss him. “I’d be shoving you on your back to stroke your cock except I need you to fuck me.”

"Confident, sugar." Jack chuckles, kissing your lips again before he shuffles off of you so he can push his boxers down. "Confident."

“Because you know I’ve been ready to jump you since the day we met.” It’s not even judgmental or self-deprecating, just a fact as you smirk up at him. He’s so fucking handsome and the butterflies in your stomach erupt all over again. This is actually happening.

Jack peels down his boxers and stands straight, showing off the hard length that is heavily bobbing as he lets you peruse his body. "You should know I've been havin' to hide this since the day we met." He growls.

“Don’t know how you hide it anywhere.” With as tight as he wears his jeans, it should be impossible to keep the thickest cock you’ve ever seen in your life under wraps, but somehow he manages it.

He smirks and waggles his brows at you playfully. "It's all in the way you keep your jacket buttoned."

“Show off.” Though you roll your eyes dramatically, you lean forward to snag his arm and urge him to come back to you. “Get back in bed and show off here instead.”

It's the easiest order that he will probably ever receive as he kneels on the bed. "With pleasure, sugar."

As easily as you ever fit together in any other part of life, the way your bodies seem to move and mold together is instinctive. There’s no guiding or nudging, just fluid motion as he finds the cradle of your thighs and slides one arm underneath your back to keep you as close to him as possible as he devours you in a burning kiss. Jack has never been shy about sex. Not even that first time with Abigail where he was worried that he would last all of ten seconds, only to be surprised and pleased he had lasted thirty. His cock pulses against your mound and he hums into your mouth, enjoying the way you fit against him, soft in all the right places and welcoming him to slide into you.

This tension that’s been building for months has somehow intensified during the last week. No touch has been enough, although you’ve pretended it was, and every moment of intimacy has just made you burn for more. Now, with his weight bearing down on you and the heat of him threatening to consume you, you’re squirming for any kind of friction. The easy roll of his hips comes natural, grinding against your and feeling the way your gasp presses into his throat when the head of his cock catches on your swollen, soaked lips. "Easy girl," he coos gently, keeping his hips angled so that when he shifts down, it presses against your entrance. "Nice and easy."

The smirk drawn tight across your face curls at the edges when you look up at him. “If you have a horse fetish, Jack Daniels, now would be the time to tell me.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Nah, sugar.” He reaches down to grip your hip. “No horse fetish, but I do want you to hang on.”

Even the smallest moment of laughter seems to break the spell of apprehension that had been blanketing the two of you, and when you giggle along with him it’s like music. “Good,” you tease, hitching your leg high up on his hip. “Because I’m feeling more like save a horse, ride a cowboy tonight.”

Once you say that, Jack leans in and presses his lips to yours and slowly starts to push forward. Breaking you open with a smooth roll of his hips and a groan when he slips inside you.

Your mouth drops open as his hips roll forward, that deep moan that originates somewhere in your toes barely stifled when you clamp your mouth shut and bite your lip to keep it contained. Instead Jack gets an enthusiastic whimper while he fills your needy pussy slowly but surely. Every shuddering breath is encouragement, and you are definitely not here to discourage him.

Jack's own moan is quietly, barely breathed out but it's there. Mouth dropping open and his eyes fluttering closed at the tight, hot clutch of your cunt surrounds him. Stealing his ability to make a pithy comment, every thought of how fucking good you feel, how perfect you are, is all that he can manage until his hips nudge yours and he is buried to the hilt in your body.

All the space in your mind seems to be gone along with that space that he filled up in your body, leaving you dumbstruck in a way you’ve never felt before as your body adjusts to the weight and girth of him inside you. It isn’t like the two of you to be speechless, but the moment is consumed in drowning kisses rather than witty barbs and you can’t even say that you care. He doesn't know exactly when your fingers became entwined, curled together as your leg shifts higher on his hip and your lips tilt away from his. Breaking to give you both the space to pant softly. "Shit, sugar." He groans quietly.

“Jack—” You gasp his name softly, rolling your hips against his to seek out even the smallest movements. “You—you’re so fuckin perfect. Fuck.”

“You know how good you feel?” He groans quietly, twitching inside you when your walls contract around him.

The huff that earns him is only because your mind is too wound up in pleasure to be clever, and you draw your nails up his back to urge him on. “Might go crazy if you don’t move, baby.”

“So impatient.” He chides, leaning in and biting your chin before he draws his hips back.

“Maybe.” You might have snarked back at him if he hadn’t snapped his hips forward at that exact moment, pushing the air out of your lungs and making you have to bite back a sharp cry of his name to a bare whimper. He’s a menace and he knows what the hell he’s doing.

His grin borders on devilish and he wraps his arms around your shoulders. “You were sayin’, sugar?” He grunts as he thrusts into you again. Making sure that he forces more air out of your lungs.

“Fuck.” He said he wanted you to hold on - and he truly seems to have meant it. You cling to him as he sets a deep, steady pace that has both of you groaning into each other’s skin. The rest of the world has dissolved away so quickly that you can’t even focus on the room beyond him, eyes half-shut and fluttering every time his cock pulses inside your tight channel.

“I am, sugar.” Jack pants. “But you want it harder, I’m guessin’.” He’s teasing, but he wants to make sure you know exactly what he’s capable of in bed so he sets his knees and his pace speeds up.

It’s a miracle you don’t cry out. One hand leaves its safe place on his shoulder to dive into his hair to let your fingers scrape his scalp and pull on his hair just enough to add that hint of pain to the pleasure. “Shit.” Jack’s pace fumbles for half a thrust before he is slamming into you. Grateful for the solid poster bed to keep the headboard from banging through the wall and alerting everyone in the house to what you are doing.

“We can both play rough, cowboy.” You promise him, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath his ear and moaning vocally in his ear when he bottoms out inside you again.

If it weren’t for your experience being so fresh, Jack would have you tied to the bed. Instead he grabs your hip, hitching it up higher and groaning as he shuffles to his knees. The shift has you bouncing, head nearly hitting the headboard of the bed, and you reach up to brace yourself. The effect is that you’re stretched out in the bed below him, tits bouncing with every thrust and mouth alternately hanging open on a silent cry or pressed tightly shut to stifle the need to call his name into the night.

Huffing and puffing as he rides you hard, Jack grins down at you. Moving so he can lick his thumb and press it to your clit.

"Jesus–fuck!" You yelp when he presses his thumb to your swollen nub, eyes shooting open from where they had fallen blissfully shut to let the moment wash over you. There's a line of sweat rolling down Jack's neck that you don't hesitate to lick away, discovering tonight to be delightfully needy when you had unfoundedly assumed that things would tend toward lovemaking.

“Shhhhhh sugar.” Jack teases as he makes tight, sure circles over your clit. “Don’t want your daddy busting’ in here, do ya?” He smirks and snaps his hips a little harder.

"Fuck why is that sexier?" The pout on your lips at enjoying the idea of enjoying the forbidden or taboo is temporary, taken over by the shaking shivering pleasure from Jack knowing exactly how you like your clit rubbed.

Chucking, Jack decides to change the pace, keeping his fingers moving over your clit but his cock draaaaaags through your walls slowly. “Don’t know, you tell me.”

Biting your lip yet again to keep from moaning too loudly, the abrupt change in rhythm means you feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he rocks backward. The slow feeling of emptiness is torture that almost makes you sob with pleasure. “Might hav—have to fuck you in a bunch of different —fuck — places to see who catches us.”

“Hmmm.” Jack ducks his head down and nips at your ear, breathing heavily. “Maybe I’ll fuck you in your kitchen. Let your staff walk in on us.”

“Shit.” That thought rockets through you like wildfire and has you grasping at his skin for any kind of mark or impression you could possibly leave on his perpetually tan skin. “Or your office.”

“My office.” Jack groans, pushing deep and grinding into you. “Spread out on my desk, my tongue buried in your cunt when someone walks in?”

Every image seems better than the last, building you up steadily along with his thrusts and the tight circles he's drawing on your clit so that you're on the edge of bursting. "Fuck yes," you're panting and swallowing your own whines beneath him. "So fucking good, baby, h–holy shit." With as tight as your body is clamping down on him in every way, your nails in his arms just might draw blood as you fall apart on a pitiful moan. It's too fast and too sharp to warn him, but the pleasure comes in wave after wave.

Watching your orgasm rip through you might be the sexiest thing that he has ever seen. Eyes clouding over and back arching up when your broken moan fills his ears. The hot grip of your walls making his already throbbing cock ache and he grits his teeth to keep from cumming as he rocks his hips to work you through the peak.

It's almost ruthless, the way he doesn't let up and just pushes you through to the other side without hesitation, but at the same time you love the seemingly endless aftershocks of such a powerful orgasm. "Come on, baby." You gasp out, holding onto his gaze with hazy eyes. "Cum for me."

“Gunna.” Jack hisses through his teeth, jaw stretched out and the muscles in his neck straining as he pushes towards his own pleasure. The way you tremble around him has him groaning your name, hips stuttering as his pace becomes sloppy and thrusts uneven.

His whole body tenses just a second before you feel it - his hips slamming forward to grind into you as deeply as he can before hot jets of his seed fill you with every pulse of his cock. It has you whimpering even as you slip your arms around him to offer him that place of comfort to come down to.

When he’s emptied himself into you, an experience that nears nirvana, he slides down into your embrace. Tucking his head against your neck and groaning your name quietly. “That..” he pants quietly. “Was worth the wait.”

Your breathing evens a little and you press a kiss to the top of his head, wrapping your arms around him tightly to just savor the moment for everything it's worth. "You were worth the wait."

His hold on you flexes, tightens as if he is afraid you would slip out of his grasp. As if you aren’t pinned beneath the bulk of his weight and still impaled on his softening cock. “Soulmates.” He murmurs softly.

“Soulmates.” You hum, quietly agreeing to what you know was not always the easiest thing for him to grasp or accept. Your hands journey up and down his back, soothing his overheated skin. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He sighs, kissing along your neck and across your shoulder gently. Not ready to move unless you need him to. It’s been a long time since Jack felt like he was home and that’s exactly what you feel like to him right now.

“Can we sleep like this?” Having him wrapped in your arms and pressing you down into the mattress might be the most comfortable you’ve ever been and you would hate to give it up too soon.

His chuckle is quiet and he settles so that he’s not just dead weight on you. “Comfortable, sugar?” He murmurs softly. “I don’t know if I can move right now.” He’s joking and he knows you know that from your huff.

There’s something to be said for feeling both safe and cherished, and your arms tighten around him briefly. “I think this is the most comfortable I’ve ever been.”

“Then go to sleep, sugar.” He nudges his hips forward slightly to make sure he doesn’t slip out of you. “I’ve gotcha.”

“Sweet dreams, love.” A soft kiss lingers between you before you close your eyes, happy to let blissful sleep take over.

******

“Sugar, I think four desserts is enough, don’t you?” It’s amusing to watch you rush around your kitchens and fret, but he knows that you only want to make your contribution to the going away party perfect. “You’ve made the kid’s favorites.”

“Everything has to be perfect.” Without knowing that you’re echoing his thought, you do register the affectionate grin on his face and pause in your movements to shrug sheepishly. “Bobby’s my friend, and so is his mother. This is a big day and I want them to be happy with it.”

“I know.” Jack had come by to peel you out of the kitchen, knowing if he left you for too long, you’d think of another dessert to whip up quickly. “Do we need to pack coolers or can everything go in the back of the Bronco?”

"Everything can go in the Bronco." He had let you out of his sight this morning long enough to bring your family back to the airstrip and get some clean clothes from your cabin, and you had gone into a sort of baking tizzy immediately after. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, red berry scones, pecan pie squares, and a huge batch of coconut cupcakes are all ready to go.

“Okay,” he grunts as he picks up the two large bakery boxes with the cookies and scones. “I’ve got the backseat laid down, so we should have plenty of room.”

"Thank you, baby." You follow him out with the rest of the pastries in your arms, setting them in the back of the Bronco before hopping into the front seat to snuggle up to Jack. "And...thank you for this week. Getting to spend the time with my family was...pretty perfect."

“Recovering from something like that is always better when you have people who love you around.” Jack turns and kisses your forehead. “When we are officially livin’ together, they are welcome anytime, sugar.”

"Only two more weeks until the opening." And that, in and of itself, is as terrifying as it is exciting. "Maybe tomorrow I'll come back here and pack up some of my stuff? It's not like I have a lot to do. The furniture all came with the cabin and I haven't gotten that many new things since moving down here."

“Whenever you want to do that, sugar.” Jack isn’t trying to rush you into any moves until you are ready for that. “You let me know and I’ll be your work mule for any heavy liftin’.”

"First thing's first." You lean over and snag another kiss, giddy to be beside him again after only a couple of hours apart. "Bobby's party."

“Bobby’s party.” Jack agrees, smirking over at you softly and reaching for your hand. The word about you being Jack’s soulmate has spread like wildfire amongst all the Statesman employees and this is the first official outing as a couple. “Word has it, Champ’s opened more than a few bottles of Reserve and Diana’s got all the ingredients for a full cocktail bar set up. Including some bubbly.”

"I expect nothing less of her." If it were your son being sent overseas like this without you knowing when you were going to see him again, you would definitely be sending him off in a big way as well. "Good thing we live right next door so we can just crash when we get tired."

His lips curl into a grin when he hears ‘we’. Proudly straightening up slightly as he marvels over how much his thinking has changed over the past two weeks. “I can see you gigglin’ drunkenly in the bathtub.” He teases.

"It would not be the first time at all." The grin you flash at him when he turns the engine over is unabashed. "My brother's thirtieth birthday was a hell of a party."

“Oh lord.” Jack rolls his eyes playfully and snorts. “I have a feelin’ I’m gunna be carryin’ you home over my shoulder.”

"Nooooo." Although the mental image does make you giggle. "I wouldn't embarrass you like that."

“Who says it’s because you’ve embarrassed me?” He grins lecherously and waggles his eyebrows. It’s not a long drive from your kitchen to the house, so he doesn’t have long to flirt before you will switch back into chef mode.

"You gonna throw me over your shoulder and carry me into the house to have your wicked way with me?" The two of you had woken up this morning still tangled in each other and shared a shower - which made it take far longer than if you had gotten ready separately. It was a beautiful way to spend the earliest hours of the day.

“Might.” Jack admits, reaching over and sliding his hand up your pretty sundress. “Too pretty to keep my hands off of.”

"Mmm, I think we might have unleashed the beast," you joke, not bothering for one second to stop his hand from wandering. The entire reason for wearing a little sundress today instead of a simple pair of shorts and a shirt is so that he would want to touch you.

Chuckling, he makes sure his fingers brush your panties. “Don’t think you’re complainin’.”

"Not even a little." There isn't enough time to make the car ride playful, but you relish the feeling of his fingers against your core for even just a second.

“That’s what I thought.” A small, playful pinch to your thigh is quickly smoothed over with his fingers and he grins at you. “Don’t have to be quiet tonight.”

"Thank god." You huff dramatically, like it was the biggest effort in the world to keep quiet last night. Which, in some ways, it was. At least it wasn't easy. It doesn't matter though, all that matters is that you're taking steps forward at a pace that is good for both of you. Jack parks in his driveway so he doesn't take up any room at Champ and Diana's house, and the two of you easily carry all the treats you made across the yard to the tables that Diana has left bare for your contributions. She had predicted you would overdo it after not being allowed to cook for the better part of a week, and she was right.

“Whole damn table for your desserts.” Jack sounds like he is grumbling but the grin on his face shows that he completely belies that. He’s already planning on stealing one of the cupcakes.

"Might be just enough room." There are all sorts of serving platters out for you to choose from, and you start arranging them carefully to put things at different heights and with different shapes beside each other to make the table interesting and easy to grab from. "But only because I stopped short of making the key lime tarts..."

“Now you’re just bein’ mean.” Jack groans quietly. “I ever tell you Key Lime is one of my favorites?”

"You did not." The pout on his lips is adorable, and you grin before kissing it away. "I'll make one for us this week. How about that?"

“Yessssss.” Jack pumps his fist, grinning as he imagines the tangy tartness of the dessert. It was the perfect balance of nearly too sweet and sour.

"What are we celebratin' out here?" Diana had seen you walking up to the house but was in the middle of taking something out of the oven. Now that she can come and say hello, she's ready to throw a second party altogether for how damn happy you and Jack seem.

“Key lime pie.” Jack doesn’t explain any further than that. Aware that Diana is familiar with his love of anything Key Lime. The only thing that truly beats it is chocolate.

"You're gonna love having a chef for a soulmate," she laughs lightly, embracing both of you in turn. "How are you feelin', sweetheart? Better?"

"I'm good, Di." You hug her back fiercely. "A couple of days of rest with my family is what I needed."

“We’ve got another session with the doc and then she’s got some solo meetings.” Jack hadn’t backed down on his insistence you see the staff therapist. Wanting you to cope with things better than he ever has.

"Good." That meets Diana's approval, and she nods as she looks the two of you over. "Positively glowing," she pronounces, having a feeling that she knows why. "Happiness suits you both."

Jack knows that it is mainly his fault, all his fault really. He ducks his head slightly and wraps his arm around your back to pull you into his side. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

"I always thought so." Diana gives you a playful wink before squeezing Jack's shoulder, glad to see him looking proud instead of apprehensive. "Come inside when you're done setting up here. Bar's set up in the kitchen and people should be arriving any minute."

"Do you need anything else, sugar?" Jack asks as he takes the last box from you. He has to admit that all your desserts look amazing and he hums. "Are you plannin' on having a display case in your tea room? Desserts to take home?"

"We're going to do a case for cakes." With the menu nailed down, you know that the only thing that still might expand is the take-away aspect of the bakery, but you're starting small. "The case was put in yesterday, actually. It was the last thing to go in."

"That case is going to be bare by the end of the first night." Jack predicts, knowing that plenty of people will want to take your goods home. Your kitchen staff will have to make sure to keep the cases full.

"You have such faith in me." You lean back in his arms and press a kiss to his cheek, satisfied with the way the table works and basking in the earnest compliment. "Let's go grab a drink, honey. Before the kitchen gets swamped."

Jack follows you willingly, carrying the discarded boxes from the goods as he trails after you. Admiring the way your hips sway in that dress and he smirks to himself.

"Di, I think you might have overdone it just a little bit," you laugh to yourself when you see the way the kitchen is laid out. The enormous tray of her son's favorite mac and cheese that she just took out of the oven is off to one side but a whole half of the counter is devoted to being a self-serve bar.

"Never." Diana huffs, grinning as he whips off the oven mitts and looks over the array of food. "Okay, maybe a little." She admits with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "But my Bobby is leavin' and we are going to celebrate." She swallows. "And then I'll cry tonight when he's on that plane."

"He's not leaving forever, Di." She knows that, of course, but you feel like it's your duty as her friend to remind her. "And you know he'll come home for every holiday he can. Bobby would never stay away that long."

"Shit." Diana rolls her eyes and tosses you a knowing look. "You know as well as I do that boy is itching to get out from under his daddy's watchful eye and gallivant."

"Sure." You nod, stepping up with Jack to pour yourself drinks when she motions to the counter. "But Christmas without his momma? Even a boy Bobby's age isn't eager for that."

"That's just because the darn fool still likes to see what's in his stocking." Diana jokes, laughing with you and relaxing slightly. She's nervous and excited for him, knowing that he will do good things. "How are you anticipating Tex's arrival?" She asks, glancing over at Jack.

"Honestly?" The two of you have your heads bowed as she makes you matching bright pink cocktails. "I hope it will be okay. I miss my friend, ya know? And I know Jack does, too. But...what do we know about this girl? His soulmate?" You're happy for him. You really are. But you also want to make sure that he's actually happy.

"She's a Kingsman agent. One of the few women that they have accepted, so she has to be a damn fine spy." Diana had been told what Champ knows and has no issue with passing it along. "Tall, feisty and mouthier than most Brits."

"Oh." You nearly cackle at the description, shooting Diana an amused grin. "So she'll fit right in here."

"I have a feelin' it's gonna be real interesting around here." Champ adds as he walks into the kitchen and makes a beeline for his wife to steal a kiss.

"We like interesting." You give Champ a hug when he tears himself away from Diana's side, glad to see him relaxed and smiling and not in his suit jacket for once. "Interesting keeps us on our toes."

"When's Tex comin' in again?" Jack asks, not sure how the boy will act when he gets back.

"Plane's landing in about an hour." Champ reports, snagging a beer from the fridge beside his wife. "Said he wanted to come straight over when I mentioned it to him, but I expect Sophia - that's his lady - will want to at least drop their things at the house first."

"Speakin' of houses." Jack glances over at you quickly before he looks back at his friend and boss. "Sugar's gonna be movin' in with me. Should have it empty pretty quick."

"Well look at that." Champ smirks, chuckling with a pleased note in it. "Didn't take you two long at all once you stopped trying to tear each other's throats out. Fantastic."

"Fuck off." Jack's huff is purely bluster and he rolls his eyes to accompany his sentiment before he grins at Champ.

"Charming." You smirk at your soulmate and hug him tight. "You survived five days with my entire family, babe. You deserve to have a live-in cook as a reward."

Chuckling, he can't deny that. He tugs you closer and kisses your forehead. "I will love every second of it too."

"Uncle Jack!" Bobby swings down the main staircase with a broad smile on his face and lights up at the sight of his father's closest friend. "Did you get a load of the smoker yet? Dad's outdone himself."

"Both of your parents have pulled out all stops on this shindig, kid." He lets go of you to stride forward and pull the kid into a bone crushing hug.

"I'm glad you're here." The younger man admits quietly. The idea of leaving without being able to say goodbye had made his stomach turn.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Jack murmurs back, always thinking of the kid like his own. A lot of times he had wondered if his little boy and Bobby would have been best friends.

"Sucks that we never got to run a mission together." There's a hint of regret in Bobby's voice but he smiles, glancing back over at you as you talk to his parents. "You'll be back in the field soon though, right? Never know what can happen."

"As soon as I can get my guns polished." Jack promises with a grin, slapping his back fondly. "I'll make my way over to merry 'ol England and remind you how to use your ropes."

The first flood of guests to arrive includes Ginger and Gabriella and their kids, and before you know it there is music pumping through the outdoor speakers and drinks flowing, with people playing lawn games and dancing and enjoying the sunny spring day for everything it's worth.

Jack stands with Champ over at the smoker, a place of pride as the two men share a drink. His eyes straying over to you as you laugh with Diana and he smiles softly at the scene. Unsure of why he had felt like you wouldn't fit in. That you wouldn't work here in this part of his life, or in his life at all. You've taken to Statesman and everyone he cares about like a duck to water.

“Having fun, love?” When your drink ran dry you headed across the lawn to refresh and stopped on the deck to give Jack a kiss.

"Of course." Jack smirks and lifts his glass up. "I've got some of the best Kentucky mash in existence, a smoker working overtime and the prettiest gal at the party comin' to kiss me."

“Suck up,” you tease, but there’s no bite in it. Instead it just earns him another kiss and a flustered smile from you. “Diana makes dangerous cocktails, I might have to mix something slightly less potent for myself otherwise you’re actually going to have to carry me home like you threatened.”

Champ chuckles and shakes his head. "My girl always did have a heavy hand when pouring drinks." His own eyes find his soulmate and he softens, smiling gently at the older woman across the way as she bullies Astrid into taking another scoop of the mac and cheese, knowing how much the Statesman tech loves it.

“Astrid and Gabi invited us over for dinner tomorrow,” you tell Jack, stealing one more squeeze of a hug before you remind yourself that you’re too old to be hanging all over your soulmate like a groupie. “Is it okay if I tell them yes?”

"If you are wanting to go, sugar, you tell 'em." Jack agrees, knowing that if you want to go to dinner with your friends, he will show up with a smile. "As long as you don't work too hard tomorrow since it will be your first full day back."

“My first day back is the perfect day to have someone else cook dinner, don’t you think?” It’s certainly not a bad idea by any means, and you shoot him a grin. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

"What if I don't want you to be good?" Jack poses playfully. "Go tell them that you will only bring one dessert." He orders, smirking at your immediate pout.

“Only bringing one dessert is being good!” His teasing earns him a stuck-out tongue and you hustle into the house to get another drink before he can retaliate. You’re still giggling to yourself happily just seconds later as you pour yourself a slightly less powerful cocktail, but the sound of the front door opening and boots in the foyer drags your mind to the present. “Come on back!” You call to the new arrival, having heard Diana greet guests the same way an hour ago. “Party’s outside but the bar’s in here.”

"Well hey." Tex rushes up to hug you before he stops short, unsure of how exactly to approach you now that the truth is out there and Sophia is right beside him. He gives you a sheepish smile when you turn around to face him. "Looks like you are right at home, knew you would be."

“You’re home!” The way you both flinch when you obviously want to be excited to see friends makes you shove your hands in your pockets for just a moment before you decide not to care. Friends can hug each other, dammit. If this Kingsman agent soulmate of his has a problem with it, she’s never going to be comfortable at Statesman. “It’s so good to see you,” you tell him honestly, reaching forward to offer him that hug.

As soon as you open your arms, Tex breaths out a sigh of relief and Sophia knocks into him from behind. "Hug her, you ass!" She hisses at her soulmate in reproach before she shoves him again. Rolling her eyes at the hesitancy he's displaying when she knows exactly who you are and what you have done with Tex.

The laugh you let out in surprise becomes a snort, and you hug the life out of the 6’1” Texan before turning to the statuesque woman beside him - stunningly gorgeous even in her jeans and sweater. “You must be Sophia.”

Sophia can't help but grin, immediately liking you. "That I am." She isn't like most British, she's a hugger and she comes in to greet you as if you were an old friend. Which, in a twisted kind of way, you are. "You're the heartbreaker." She teases as she squeezes you and pulls back and looks over at Tex when he huffs and shuffles beside her. "Ohhhh piss off." She huffs at him goodnaturedly. "Not everyday you get to have a friend who's seen your soulmate's cock." Her grin is wicked when she turns back to you and winks. "And she and I are going to be best mates, ay?"

“You really have no choice in the matter.” You inform Tex, grinning like a mad woman when Sophia keeps one arm around you and you can’t help but feel like this woman glows from the inside out. “I love her. I’m keeping her. You and Jack need to have a good gruff grumble at each other so we can all get back to normal around here.” Turning to Sophia, you flash her a grin and nod toward the counter. “Fix you a drink?”

"God yes." Sophia huffs, rolling her eyes. "We had to fly commercial, dealt with an absolute cunt of a ticket agent." She groans, "they didn't even have a proper cuppa on that trash heap they called a jet!" She tends to be told that she's abrasive and mouthy, but she doesn't care. Thrilled to be here with her soulmate and eager to make friends with those that know him best.

“Come by the kitchen any time. I had some of our teas imported so the real thing is just a short walk from your office.” The bottle of rum is already in your hand when you look back at her. “Did Tex tell you what I do when he told you…the other stuff?”

"He said you were the best damn baker on this side of the ocean." She tilts her head and leans in conspiratorially. "Which isn't hard when you compare it to British pastries." She giggles before she reaches out and touches your arm. "Don't worry, Tex might have told me about the incident between you, but that was before we even knew we were soulmates. And I don't care who was wrapped around his cock before me. All that matters is now."

“British pastries are amazing, don’t you dare test me on that. My tea room is opening in just a couple of weeks and you’ll have access to as much tea as you can manage.” Eyeballing the right amount of each liquor for the daiquiri you had started making her, you grin when Tex just shakes his head and steps around you to grab an ice cold beer from the fridge. Warm beer just never sat well with him in any of the pubs he tried out. “What happened between us is in the past, but I’ve really missed my friend.” You tell her honestly. “I’m really glad that you’re not the type to judge before you meet someone.”

"Though I want to punch that soulmate of yours." Sophia's grin turns into a frown and she looks you over curiously. "But it seems like you are doing surprisingly well, considering Tex said you were grieving when he left." There's a question in her comment, one that would be easily ignored if you didn't want to talk about it and the opening if you did.

“Jack and I are doing a lot better.” You hold a fixed glass out to her when you turn around. “Actually? We’re doing great. It was a bumpy ride but we’re on track now. Just like…it seems like you and Tex are doing well?”

"We are." Sophia can't stop the grin if she tries as she lifts the cocktail up to take a drink. "We both have always wanted to find our soulmates and it's just– it's exhilarating. You know?" She asks, making a face of delight when she tastes the drink you had mixed up. "Ohhhh this is good." She moans. "I'm going to love it here."

“I hope you like whiskey because around here it’s a religion.” Looping your arm through hers, you tap your glass against hers and grin. “Come outside and meet everyone.”

Jack looks up to find you and another woman with your arms intertwined and your heads pressed together, a cheery grin on both of your faces. Tilting his head and wondering who the woman is, his question is answered a second later when Tequila follows you and her out of the house, a very uncomfortable set to the boy's shoulders that immediately has Jack grinning out of spite. "Hot damn." He chuckles. "Trouble's blown back into town." He calls out over the yard.

"Tex!" Diana's delighted gasp from halfway across the yard is echoed almost immediately by a wave of other cheers and greetings, and you pull Sophia to the side with you just a few inches so you don't get run over by the ever-boisterous Bobby Rogers who comes careening up to the porch to say hello with an aggressive hug.

"Is everyone as enthusiastic around here?" Sophia bursts out laughing as the obviously grown man nearly tackles her soulmate in a hug that might have killed a lesser man.

"Pretty much," you laugh, nodding a little as Tex and Bobby share something that can only be classified as a bear hug. "I give it until the end of the party until you're getting hugs that big, too. Part of it is just...everybody loves Tex. And they're so excited to meet you."

"I heard he was something of a partier while he was here." Sophia finds it vastly amusing that the stereotypical cowboys around here act like they are all one big group of teddy bears. Most of them wrapped around their soulmates or coming over to greet Tex.

"Just a little." Throwing her a conspiratorial wink, you take it on yourself to introduce the newest arrival to Jack, since her soulmate is currently in the center of a group hug that would put any sorority to shame. "Honey," you reach out to touch Jack's shoulder and get his attention. "This is Sophia. Soph– this is Jack." The grin that unfurls on your face is unstoppable. "My soulmate."

"Well, fuck me." Sophia grins, shaking her head and reaching out to shake his hand. Unsure if this one was a hugger and she wants to needle him some. "Do they breed them all like fucking Gods here?"

You snort again, louder this time, and almost double over laughing at the comment. "Holy shit." It's going to take you a lot longer than just one or two seconds to regain your composure, especially with how amused Jack looks. "I fucking love this girl," you pronounce absolutely to anyone who could possibly be listening. "And yes. They do. At least, Statesman recruits all the godlike ones."

"I should have come over to America sooner." Sophia huffs, grinning towards her soulmate. "Tried a few of these cowboys on for size before I found Tex."

"Naw, you already got the second best the country has to offer." Your eyes slide over to Jack and you smile again, feeling that familiar fluttering in your chest that you always get when you look at him. "I'm afraid I already nabbed the best for myself."

Jack chuckles and reaches for you, relieved that the entire situation isn't awkward. Sophia looks like she is a woman who will keep Tex on his toes. "All yours, sugar." He promises. "All yours."

When Tex finally manages to extricate himself from the mountain of greetings, you ambles back over to Sophia with a sheepish grin on his face. "Didn't I tell ya we liked big hellos around here, baby?" He practically blushes, running his hand down her arm to thread their fingers together before looking up at you and his best friend. Or, at least, the man who had been his best friend. He's just hoping that he didn't fuck that up too badly. "Jack." He flusters before holding out his hand to say hello.

Jack stares at the boy's hand for a moment before he slaps it away. The sharp inhale of the entire group barely able to register before Jack busts out into a chuckle and grabs Tex, pulling him in for another rib bustin' hug. "Son of a bitch!" He growls. "The fuck took you so long? I've been miserable with just Champ for company."

The air goes out of all of you all at once, and Tex practically crumples into hugging his best fucking friend. "Jackass," he huffs, though the relief is clear in his voice. "You know that's why your daddy named you Jack, right? Knew from birth that you'd be a jackass."

"Better than Tex." Jack huffs, slapping the taller man's back harshly. It would sound like he's hitting. him, but it's just the affection being pounded back into him like men do. "Can't hit for shit, Tex." Jack's own relief at Tex's return and forgiveness for his actions are palpable. A weight off his shoulders.

"Gonna have to get back in the practice ring." Tex chuckles, shaking his head at Jack before he wraps his arm around Sophia and flashes the softest smile in the world at her. "It's good to be home." He has to admit that. Fully and wholeheartedly.

It's satisfying, seeing the boy wear a besotted smile that he's only seen one other time. This time he's got an even bigger sparkle in his eyes and it's reserved for Sophia. "Good to have you home." Jack promises, nodding at the other agent meaningfully. "You made it in time for the grand openin' too."

"I heard!" And he's not going to lie and claim that he didn't hurry back to be here in time. "Gotta admit I'm a little bummed to have missed out on all the menu tastings, but..." he clears his throat and looks down at Sophia who gives him an encouraging nod. "Champ says...y'all are gonna be doing weddings soon?"

"Oh my god..." You're wide-eyed when you realize what he's asking, and immediately look down at Sophia's hand to see a meteor-sized emerald on her finger. It's unique and bold, exactly like she is. "Are you serious? That's so exciting!"

"Goddamn." Jack whistles, not missing the split second flash of something on your face. It wasn't necessarily envy but it's more like a yearning. He thinks about the conversation he had with your father and knows that he will be sliding that ring on your finger just as soon as he can get you alone after the opening. He'll have to text your dad for a picture of the ring, get another band to compliment it. Something specifically from him for his soulmate. "Congratulations." He offers seriously.

"He wanted to wait until we got over here to have the thing." Sophia absolutely beams, looking between you and Jack. "Something utterly unEnglish. No little village church, no dour aunties over breakfast, no pall mall on the lawn." She snorts as though the idea of it is completely ridiculous.

"You'll both help, won't you?" Tex had talked about you both constantly once he was more comfortable doing so. They had opened up to each other so quickly that his hesitancy to talk about you and Jack had been the biggest clue that the two of you are important to him.

"Whatever you need from me." Jack agrees instantly, knowing that he will do anything to help the couple have the event they are dreaming of. Wanting them to be happy here, he wants Tex to be happy. Wants him to be happy with his soulmate. Just like he is now with you.

"Absolutely anything." And if you happen to have a few stray thoughts about your own wedding, it won't be your fault. But you would never bring it up to Jack.

"So you mean to tell me that the first weddin' you and Diana are gunna plan is Tex's?" Jack can't help but chuckle at the irony of it.

"Looks like it." You have a sip of your drink and note with a clear conscience that the only jealousy you feel is for being able to get married, not for the specific man. That would have been a whole extra therapy session right there.

"Looks like I owe my wife twenty bucks and a spa day," Champ chuckles from a few feet away, eyeing his two agents with amusement. "I'd sworn it woulda been Jack and his Sugar, here."

Tex’s eyes widen and he glances at you and then Jack. Just now realizing that things are a bit more friendly than when he left. “Seriously?” He asks, a slow grin breaking out on his face. “You two?”

"We're not engaged or anything," you quickly throw that conversation off the rails before it can get traction, not wanting to make Jack uncomfortable. Instead you choose to focus on the very real and very positive step toward a solid relationship that you actually are taking. "But, um...I'm moving...to Jack's place." For Sophia's benefit, you point at the side of the large house across two yards. "Right next door."

“Really?” Sophia hums and her calculating gaze turns towards Jack. “That’s a mighty big house to not be married in and fill with babies.” She points out practically.

"Ain't it, though?" Tex adjusts his arm around Sophia and grins. "Seems an awful shame not to have that place full of life."

"Oookay." Too nervous to even look at Jack, you give his hand a squeeze and remind yourself to smile. "I'm gonna go tell Gabi that we're on for dinner tomorrow before I forget," you murmur, excusing yourself as fast as gracefully possible.

Jack huffs, narrowing his eyes at the happy couple, although he isn’t upset. “Let me propose to the girl before you have her knocked up and pushin’ out babies.” His heart skips a beat at that thought but he closes his eyes and reminds himself that he diced Rollins into easy to handle pieces.

"Well she's not running because she's afraid of it." Sophia observes, sipping her drink. "She looks at you like you...what's the phrase?" One glance up at Tex and she remembers it. "Like you hung the stars in the sky."

“She’s gotta– gotta heal first.” Jack murmurs quietly. Taking another sip of his drink and watching you talk with Gabi and Astrid.

"Heal?" Tex's face flashes anger immediately but since Jack looks upset rather than angry it dissipates immediately. "What the hell happened? She looks fine."

“She– uh, she was kidnapped a week ago.” Jack tells Tequila brokenly. “Someone– it was… the same person who killed my Abigail and baby boy. Took her and tortured her.”

The way Tequila absorbs that information is the instant and yet simultaneously thorough turning of gears that marks him as an intelligence agent. Has he heard the words and absorbed their meaning? Absolutely. But is he still processing their full implication? That could take an extra moment. "Tell me you took care of it," he hisses, trying to even imagine half of what he would do to someone who hurt Sophia, let alone two of his soulmates. "Tell me you took care of it or we're leaving in the Silver Pony right now."

“They are in tiny pieces.” Jack confirms. “Never gunna hurt her again. I made sure of it.” His satisfaction is grim and he’s never told you that he’s got a video file of what he had done to Rollins, captured through his glasses, on his phone for when he needs a reminder the bastard is dead.

"Good." Both the agents in front of him - Tequila and Isolde - nod seriously. "So what she needs is to take her mind off things?" Sophia raises an eyebrow at both men. "Or should I be aiming her right at wedding thoughts to have her giddy to be proposed to?"

“I’m gunna propose after her grand openin’.” He admits quietly. “Her daddy’s bringing me her grandmother's ring. Gonna give her that and a ring to go with it from me.”

"So get her excited, then." That seems to delight Sophia, who has a mischievous streak several kilometers long. "Cheers."

“She’ll try to ignore being excited.” Jack predicts. “But remind her that it’s okay to dream. To want things.” A lot of this is because of the way he treated you, and he knows it will take time to completely fix things.

“Consider it done.” An intrigue, her mother would have called it, and Sophia has always loved a good intrigue.

“But, doesn’t mean I don’t want her to focus on your weddin’.” Jack promises. “Ain’t lookin’ to steal your thunder.”

“Jack, I, uh—” Readjusting his stance and wiping his palms on his jeans, Tex is the very picture of nerves. “I wanted to ask you to be my best man, if you weren’t still pissed at me.”

Jack looks seriously at Tex, knowing that the boy is still unsure of their standing despite the greeting. He swallows, emotional and soft at the idea. “I’d be honored.” He answers honestly, reaching out and pulling him in for another hug. “Fuckin’ honored.”

“Good.” It’s as heartfelt a moment as could be between the two men, and Sophia smiles as she rubs a hand gently on her soulmate’s back. “He was bloody terrified to ask on the way over in case you were still mad.”

“Why would I be mad?” Jack asks, making sure that the boy holds his gaze. “I was wrong.” He admits. “I owe you an apology. I shoulda made sure you knew the score. I’m sorry.”

“And I shouldn’t’ve overreacted.” Tex isn’t fool enough to think he didn’t go overboard by hauling off and laying Jack out flat. But clearing the air is what they both need. “I’m glad it’s behind us.”

“Water under the bridge.” Jack waves it away, aware that he shouldn’t have hit him, but Jack was being a jackass. “Let’s just leave that in the past.”

“Right.” Tex nods, glad to have it all aired out, and looks over at Sophia with a grin. “I’m gonna go show off my lady,” he announces unrepentantly. “Can we sit and eat with you guys later on? Catch up?”

“Go on.” Jack nods and waves them away. “Gotta make sure Champ doesn’t ruin the brisket.”

“I would not!” Champ looks scandalized at that the way only a Texas man can, and all three men laugh before Tex bundles Sophia up against him and goes out into the yard to say hello to old friends.

Jack chuckles and nudges Champ with his shoulder. “Guess things are lookin’ good. ‘Cept I know you’ll miss the kid.”

“I will.” Champ is not too proud a man to admit that he’ll miss his only child. “But every boy’s gotta leave home to grow, don’t they?”

“They do.” Jack admits, knowing his life would have been much different if he hadn’t left the ranch. Even under those circumstances. He honestly wonders what the world would be like if Jack Daniels had never become Agent Whiskey. It’s a sobering thought. “Good thing the kid knows that he’s welcome home whenever he needs a soft place to land.”

“Yeah.” Champ huffs a laugh as he inspects the progress the meat is making in the smoker. “Your house.” He doesn’t grouse about it, though, he only chuckles. “I know he’ll do well. It’s just hard to see him go.”

“I know, but the kid is a helluva agent.” Jack beams with pride, since he had helped train the kid. “You and Di did a fine job.”

“Give it a little time, Jack.” There’s confidence in Champ’s tone. It’s soft, but it’s there. “Yours will be just as headstrong and determined as you and their mama.”

“It scares the hell out of me.” Jack confesses, looking over at where you are talking with Rye, flown in from New York. You had given him a hug and there were some tears, but you had waved him off from coming over. “What if I lose her? Another baby?” He chokes out. “It’ll kill me.”

“The man who took your family - who tried to take this one - is dead.” Champ reminds him quietly, abandoning the smoker to focus entirely on his friend. “I know it’s hard to remember, but I’ll remind ya every day if you’re needin’ it. What else could hurt her - birth? Not with Ginger hoverin’ over her the whole time. Ain’t no disease we can’t tackle. No danger that Statesman can’t pull her back from. And shit,” Champ clicks his tongue. “With how well she did under pressure? Leavin’ you her bracelet as a clue an all? Keepin’ her secrets like she did? Even if there were other people out there who might wanna make a target out of a Statesman agent’s wife, I’d be more afraid for them then I am for her.”

“She’s a goddamn goddess, isn’t she?” Quiet pride fills him as he stares at you in a way that has his eyes watering slightly. Just drinking in the sight of his soulmate happy and healthy. “I never believed in second soulmates, never wanted one.” He knows that Champ is completely aware of that. “But I’m goddamn proud that this is who the universe chose for me.”

“She loves the hell out of you.” The older man claps Jack on the back in a friendly, playful gesture. “Can’t for the life of me figure out why, but you’re goddamn lucky.”

“Don’t I know it.” It’s a far cry from his viewpoint a month ago, but it’s amazing what can happen when you let the fear go.

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide​ @elegantduckturtle  ​

DtRH: @haileymorelikestupid @spishsstuff @missmarmaladeth @axshadows @a-gay-cryptid @sgt-morgan @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @flowers4copper @ghost-timelord @the0racl30fd3lphidos @all-the-way-down-here @bobafvcker @ficsbynight @dinoflower @supernaturalgirl20 @xdaddysprincessxx @bobawh0re @amiee-mitch18 @darkhairedmenrule @heyyimlaynna @strawberry-f4iry @3zm33atzbuss33 @whataghost @cyber666slut @nobody-000 @eddiemunsonsgirlfriendirl @lucciolaraven @powergirlsupremacy @secondsistershelby @dreadmars @androgynoushellscape @soytomatecherry @cheesecake-massacre @mylifeisbasedonashow @idiotickiddo @tomfeltonisbae @maratheidiot22 @im-nada @everybirdfellsilent @deepdarkdelights @brokenwhitegirl384 @ur-honey-child @caseket @copperrose15 @we-could-have-been @valkyries-ride @scarletmunson @strawberriricemilk @ghost-timelord @galactigoos @floridawaters @cutiepie6473 @pinball-vance @theslytherinwriter @scorpioswonder @stankyleg05 @fxdsketches @sad-innit @coffeyorky @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @starlordsonlywife @aura626 @mistresskei @marv3lwhor3 @sadimusprimee @yourwonderbelle @sgt-morgan @spot116 @milybaby018 @loserk1nks @artfulthoughtswp @aavw @babyrunsforfanfic @faceache111 @midnight-huntress @asimpleraccoonqueen @marki-moo0 @pages89 @rawr-bitches @rebel-fanfare @soooosha @luna-is-out-there @im-sylien @timpletance @certifiedhunter @ellenmunn @littlethief78 @tinalbion @eddy-y @tikibabi @whyidkok @bearcoon1666 @littlebirdsbookshelf @a-gay-cryptid @disaster-ahaha @viridiesa @axshadows @purplerain04 @karmarouge @holycyclehomo @sainteredhood @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @the-wishmonger @theliferuiner @raptorclaw24 @asp1r1ngm1lf @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @st4rl1ght444 @litholithium @tusk89 @youjustneedatherapist @nekodemon73 @iceclaw101 @lightningsface @shakespeareanwannabe @jasminemunson @spideysimpossiblegirl @wannabedaphne @sammus-white @jazzieomega @88dragon06 @ishabull @raquel-rial @tuquoquebrute @hotleaf-juice @dantaku @youokhoney @thisiswhyibleedsstuff @maximumkryptonitegladiator @jediknight122 @gadsgikklesen @movievillainess721 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @the-strawberrythief @spishsstuff @choppedmugjudgeplaid @haileymorelikestupid @gooddaykate @missredherring @abyssal-zone-stares-back @supernaturalgirl @winterandstars @severewobblerlightdragon @missmarmaladeth @noisynaia @saintbedelia @algressman16 @eaks0710 @mina2000alex @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @akaleelanie @mishasminion360 @amneris21 @roxypeanut @lunarcatbun 118 @frasmotic @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @lovelychaos420 @1432690 @no1pornstachefan @thegrimreaperbitch @esmeensheep @izz-ayes-world @kittycatcait219 @loveyou3000tonystark @tintinn16 @igenerallytrynottogiveagoshdarn @motheroftorches @phoenixhalliwell @the-dazzling-urbanite @coffeyorky @trickstersp8 @victorian-cherub @julissadunn @clarysthing @the-girl-that-loves-many-fandoms @mastersurf @theghostofutopia @ncsls0515 @seraphinaivy @hiyorinatsuki @ghostofaboy @yn-hamato @elfwriter1088 @sunnygrey99 @lexinicolenix @lazyemisfandomtrash @curiouskeyboard @qualityearthquakes @spider-284748 @unnecesarysstuff @sgt-morgan @love-affair-with-fandoms @lunarcatbun @kstar770 @kykymarty @supergingerlocks @hell0kittybimb0222 @a-birds-fin @loidforgerishotashell @mythical-writer @ghostshalo @avengersimaginesfan @sccialcasualty @lordecult @petalo-dropsart @i-quite-like-eating-carrots @svudetective @hasta-la-pasta-bb @manicpixiedreamgirly @destinydog @skeppycarnation @anaisweird @critters-beware @fruityforcocoapuffs @linnnniie @spideyromantic @paupeach2024 @faithxyu @fxramir @legomyeggo @jjggdfvvy @hi-my-name-is-riley @kasaikawa @lost-ghost-thats-sleepy @callmegkiddo @2dead2function @generallysleepdeprived   @failingclassesinmygucciglasses @thebeesknees42 @moonmoon007 @wi0na @cilliansangel @lostinsideourminds @angstismydrug @elvenmother @bilibiche @kettlekatie @preschoolispunk @djarinsstuff @generallysleepdeprived @love-affair-with-fandoms @jay-ghostly @wowieitbeme @fanofverymanythings @josephquinnswhore @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive @djarinsstuff @justherebecausesafarisucks @cedricbitch @rebel-soldat @madisonred88

My Masterlist!

[grogusmum]

💚March Fic Madness - Fic Recs💚

I've joined @the-blind-assassin-12 Alyssa's March Fic Madness! The goal is 63 reblogs/reads in 31 days (I'm not sure that I will get there its been A Month!) and I think I've not put the tag on everyfic ive read/reblogged in March (I'm going to go back to add tags to any I missed).

With all these incredible writers, I am reccing every one! As always, mind the warnings

Adrift by @morallyinept ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6 (Frankie Morales)

The Producer @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist (Dieter Bravo)

Are You Sure You're Ready For This by @missredherring (Marcus Pike)

Drunk Text by@kteague (Frankie Morales)

Fluffbruary: 13 by @oonajaeadira (Jack Daniels)

The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales epilogue by @katareyoudrilling

The Sweepstakes: Dave York epilogue by @katareyoudrilling

Joel, Interrupted by @iamskyereads

You Were Marked: Day One @handspunyarns (Din Djarin)

Baker's Dozen Ezra part 2 @avastrasposts

Day 10: Comet by @nerdieforpedro (Din Djarin)

Uneven Odds ch 1 and ch 2 by @theetherealbloom (Din Djarin)

Darkroom Din Intro Crit Solargrams Knock Before You Enter** The Bar Is Set High Overdeveloped** Muse Get Away With** Letting The Light In by @honestly-shite

You Brought Poison Flowers Chapter 1: Larkspur Chapter 2: Yarrow Chapter 3: Lettuce * Chapter 4: Echinacea Chapter 5: Onion * Chapter 6: Cherry * Chapter 7: Maple Chapter 8: Beet * by @ohforficsake (Joel Miller)

Lush by @the-scandalorian (Din Djarin)

We Had Today by @deadhumourist

He With the Dark Curls, You With the Watercolor Eyes by @hellishjoel (Frankie Morales)

The Lack of Kenergy by @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist (Dieter Bravo)

G.O.M.E.R. by @disgruntledspacedad (Frankie Morales)

Threefold by @insomniamamma (Ezra)

She Made Me Feel by @nerdieforpedro (Din Djarin)

Hunters Gambit Part One (501 AS) | Part Two (501 AS) | Part Three (501 AS) Part Four (501 AS) by @chaoticgeminate (Frankie Morales)

Bright Lights ii and iii by @ezrasbirdie (Dieter Bravo)

Silent Affection by @kteague (Frankie Morales)

E. + "Are you sure you're ready for this?" by @missredherring (Ezra)

Not My Stars ch 11 by @keldabe-kriff (Din Djarin)

Able by @ladamedusoif (Joel Miller)

final tally 51

Thanks to all you beautiful, brilliant writers!

It occurred to me that I should include the 4 fic I posted this month -

Class of 1974 Taking Chances Part 3 All In (Javier Peña)

Please Mister Please (Joel Miller)

November: Mourning Moon (Frankie Morales)

Posting tomorrow: IRL Part 3 (Javi Gutiérrez)

[t-jfh]

László Moholy-Nagy (Hungarian, 1895-1946)

Untitled, 1939

Fujicolor Crystal Archive print, 27.9 x 35.6cm

László Moholy-Nagy (Hungarian, 1895-1946)

Untitled, 1937-1946

Fujicolor Crystal Archive print, 27.9 x 35.6cm

László Moholy-Nagy (Hungarian, 1895-1946)

Untitled, 1936-46

Fujicolor Crystal Archive print, 27.9 x 35.6 cm

László Moholy-Nagy (Hungarian, 1895-1946)

Photogram with Eiffel Tower and Peg Top, 1928

Silver gelatin photograph, 38.7 x 29.9cm

László Moholy-Nagy (Hungarian, 1895-1946)

Photogram No. II, 1929

Silver gelatin photograph, 95.5 x 68.5cm

László Moholy-Nagy (Hungarian, 1895-1946)

LIS, 1922

Oil on canvas, 131 x 100cm

László Moholy-Nagy (Hungarian, 1895-1946)

K XVII, 1923

Oil on canvas, 95 x 75cm

László Moholy-Nagy (Hungarian, 1895-1946)

A 19, 1927

Oil on canvas, 80 x 96cm

László Moholy-Nagy (Hungarian, 1895-1946)

CH BEATA I, 1939

Oil on canvas, 119 x 120cm

László Moholy-Nagy (Hungarian, 1895-1946)

CH SPACE 6, 1941

Oil on canvas, 119 x 119cm

László Moholy-Nagy Retrospective exhibition at Schirn Kunsthalle, Frankfurt

8th October 2009 - 7th February 2010

Artworks © Hattula Moholy-Nagy for the Estate of László Moholy-Nagy © VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn 2009 / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

ART BLART_ ART AND CULTURAL MEMORY ARCHIVE

Curated blog and article by Dr. Marcus Bunyan:

•

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▪️YouTube silent video >> László Moholy-Nagy Ein Lichtspiel Schwarz Weiss Grau (Light Play: Black, White, Grey) [1930 / 6mins.+34secs.]:

Ein Lichtspiel Schwarz Weiss Grau (Light Play Black White Grey) is perhaps Lázló Moholy-Nagy's best-known film work. It features his Light-Space Modulator, also known as a lighting fixture for an electric stage.

Light-Space Modulator is a key work in the history of kinetic art and even new media art, and therefore one of the most important works of art of its time.

Initially conceived by Moholy-Nagy in the early 1920s and built between 1928 and 1930, its completion required the involvement of a number of collaborators.

It was intended to be the centrepiece of the Contemporary Room at the Provinzialmuseum in Hanover, planned (but never realised) by Moholy-Nagy and Alexander Corner, the museum's director.

Light-Space Modulator was exhibited in 1930 at an exhibition in Paris on the work of the German Werkbund. From the point of view of the object, it forms a complex and beautiful set of metal, plastic and glass elements, many of them movable by the action of an electric motor, surrounded by a series of coloured lights.

Moholy-Nagy used it to produce light shows that he then photographed or filmed, as in the case of the film shown here. Although in black and white, the film manages to capture the kinetic glow of the sculpture.

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▪️YouTube video >> László Moholy-Nagy: Proto-Conceptual Artist [2019 / 5mins.+36secs.]:

Coinciding with the Bauhaus centenary, Hattula Moholy-Nagy and Daniel Hug, the daughter and grandson of László Moholy-Nagy, consider the lasting impact of the artist’s work today. Hauser & Wirth’s exhibition in London dedicated to Moholy-Nagy examines his influence as a proto-conceptualist, whose work interrogated the role of the art object and the artist in society, anticipating questions posed by subsequent generations of artists.

László Moholy-Nagy is on view at Hauser & Wirth London from 22 May – 7 September 2019.

•

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▪️ YouTube video >> Moholy-Nagy: Future Present exhibition overview at the Guggenheim [2016 / 3mins+14secs.]:

Curator Karol P. B. Vail provides a brief introduction to Moholy-Nagy: Future Present, a comprehensive retrospective of the work of László Moholy-Nagy (1895–1946), on view at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York, May 27–September 7, 2016. To learn more visit https://www.guggenheim.org/moholy.

•

[loslentesdepedrito]

Loslentesdepedrito- Masterlist

Please forgive me for this atrocious masterlist. Its purpose is solely for navigation, and I assure you that I will create a better one when I have the time. Thank you for reading 🤎 !

Dave York:

Eres Mía (E for Explicit)

Javier Peña:

I'm Your Wife

Ahora Te Puedes Marchar Sneak Peek (E for Explicit)

4K (E for Explicit)

Feliz Navidad (E for Explicit)

El Hombre de Tu Vida (E for Explicit)

Jack Daniels:

Broken Bottle, Broken Heart

I'm Your Wife: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7.

Chocolate Cake (E for Explicit)

Frankie Morales:

Broken Bottle, Broken Heart

Tim Rockford:

4K (E for Explicit)

Marcus Pike:

Eres Mía (E for Explicit)

Medicina De Amor (E for Explicit)

Dieter Bravo:

Sola (E for Explicit)

DB 2 (E for Explicit)

Zach Wellison:

Seven (E for Explicit)

Din Djarin

Paleta (E for Explicit)

Javi Gutierrez:

Sola (E for Explicit)

Joel Miller:

Que Vuelva (Hoy me muero yo)

A Restless Night

JM 3 (E for Explicit)

JM 4 (E for Explicit)

[ghelgheli]

The Stuff I Read in June/July 2023

Stuff I Extra Liked is Bold

I forgot to do it last month so you get a double feature

Books

Ninefox Gambit, Yoon Ha Lee

Heteropessimism (Essay Cluster)

The Biological Mind, Justin Garson (2015) Ch. 5-7

Sacred and Terrible Air, Robert Kurvitz

Wage Labour and Capital, Karl Marx

Short Fiction

Beware the Bite of the Were-Lesbian (zine), H. C. Guinevere

Childhood Homes (and why we hate them) by qrowscant (itch.io)

piele by slugzuki (itch.io)

بچه‌ای که شکل گربه میکشید، لافکادیو هرن

بچه های که یخ نزدند، ماکسیم گورکی

پسرکی در تعقیب تبهکار، ویلیام آیریش

Küçük Kara Balık, Samed Behrengi

Phil Mind

The Hornswoggle Problem, Patricia Churchland,  Journal of Consciousness Studies 3.5-6 (1996): 402-408

What is it Like to be a Bat? Thomas Nagel, (https://doi.org/10.4159/harvard.9780674594623.c15)

Epiphenomenal Qualia, Frank Jackson, Consciousness and emotion in cognitive science. Routledge, 1998. 197-206

Why You Can’t Make a Computer that Feels Pain, Daniel Dennett, Synthese, vol. 38, no. 3, 1978, pp. 415–56

Where Am I? Daniel Dennett

Can Machines Think? Daniel Dennett

Divided Minds and the Nature of Persons, Derek Parfit (https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118922590.ch8)

The Extended Mind, Andy Clark & David Chalmers, Analysis 58, no. 1 (1998): 7–19

Uploading: A Philosophical Analysis, David Chalmers (https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118736302.ch6)

If You Upload, Will You Survive? Joseph Corabi & Susan Schneider (https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118736302.ch8)

If You Can’t Make One, You Don’t Know How It Works, Fred Dretske (https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1475-4975.1994.tb00299.x)

Computing Machinery and Intelligence, Alan Turing

Minds, Brains, and Programs, John Searle (https://doi.org/10.1017/S0140525X00005756)

What is it Like to Have a Gender Identity? Florence Ashley (https://doi.org/10.1093/mind/fzac071)

Climbing towards NLU: On Meaning, Form, and Understanding in the Age of Data, Emily M. Bender & Alexander Koller (10.18653/v1/2020.acl-main.463)

On the Dangers of Stochastic Parrots: Can Language Models Be Too Big? 🦜 Emily M. Bender et al. (https://doi.org/10.1145/3442188.3445922)

The Great White Robot God, David Golumbia

Superintelligence: The Idea that Eats Smart People, Maciej Ceglowski

Misc. Articles

Ebb and Flow of Azeri and Persian in Iran: A Longitudinal Study in the City of Zanjan, Hamed Zandi (https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110694277-007)

WTF is Happening? An Overview – Watching the World Go Bye, Eliot Jacobson

Using loophole, Seward County seizes millions from motorists without convicting them of crimes, Natalia Alamdari

Punks, Bulldaggers, and Welfare Queens, Cathy J. Cohen, Feminist Theory Reader. Routledge, 2020. 311-323

Is the Rectum a Grave? Leo Bersani (https://doi.org/10.2307/3397574)

Why Petroleum Did Not Save the Whales, Richard York (https://doi.org/10.1177/2378023117739217)

‘Spider-Verse’ Animation: Four Artists on Making the Sequel, Chris Lee

Carbon dioxide removal is not a current climate solution, David T. Ho (https://doi.org/10.1038/d41586-023-00953-x)

Fights, beatings and a birth: Videos smuggled out of L.A. jails reveal violence, neglect, Keri Blakinger

Capitalism’s Court Jester: Slavoj Žižek, Gabriel Rockhill

The Tyranny of Structurelessness, Jo Freeman

Domenico Losurdo interviewed about Friedrich Nietzsche

Keeping Some of the Lights On: Redefining Energy Security, Kris De Decker

Gays, Crossdressers, and Emos: Nonormative Masculinities in Militarized Iraq, Achim Rohde

On the Concept of History, Walter Benjamin

Our Technology, Zeyad el Nabolsy

Towards a Historiography of Gundam’s One Year War, Ian Gregory

Imperialism and the Transformation of Values into Prices, Torkil Lauesen & Zak Cope

[kvibestudios]

Crafting Unforgettable Film Characters: Essential Tips for Filmmakers

Developing unforgettable film characters is a fundamental component of filmmaking, crucial for both artistic and audience success. This guide explores key areas of film production, audience engagement, and indie filmmaking, with a particular focus on filmmakers in New Jersey and New York. It offers practical insights, tips, and examples to assist industry professionals in navigating and thriving in their domain.

Film Production

Constructing engaging characters starts with strong development. Let's delve into some core elements of character creation in film production.

Character Development

Understand Your Character's Backstory

Grasping a character's history is critical for authenticity. Filmmakers should document their character's backstory to ensure consistency and depth. For instance, in "The Pursuit of Happyness," Chris Gardner's past drives his actions and choices, making his character more relatable and compelling.

Show, Don’t Tell

Instead of directly stating a character's traits, reveal them through actions, dialogue, and reactions. This method fosters a deeper connection with the audience. For example, the Joker in "The Dark Knight" is characterized through his actions and various, conflicting backstories, which keeps the audience invested and intrigued.

Embrace Flaws and Relatability

Perfect characters are easily forgotten. Embrace flaws and vulnerabilities to make characters more human and relatable. This strategy adds complexity and depth, as observed in "Phantom Thread," where Daniel Day-Lewis's character's obsession with his craft leads to his downfall.

Character Arcs

Character arcs are equally crucial in making characters memorable. Here’s how they can be crafted effectively:

Clear Goals and Motivations

Memorable characters have clear goals and motivations driving their actions. These objectives support the plot and inform the character's decisions and choices. For example, in "The Fabelmans," the main character's passion for filmmaking fuels his journey, making it compelling and inspiring.

Develop Unique Voices

Provide each character with a unique voice and manner of speaking that reflect their personality, background, and experiences. This differentiation helps characters stand out and enriches the storytelling. For example, in "The Lord of the Rings," the distinct speaking styles of characters like Sam and Frodo emphasize their social status and relationship.

Audience Engagement

Establishing emotional connections is key to engaging the audience. Various techniques can be employed to achieve this:

Creating Emotional Connections

Establish Relationships and Dynamics

Characters influence and interact with others. Exploring these dynamics enriches the narrative and offers opportunities for character growth. In films like "School of Rock," the relationships between characters are central to the story, making it engaging and memorable.

Build Intrigue

Leaving certain aspects of a character's past or motivations mysterious can create intrigue and keep the audience hooked. The Joker’s character in "The Dark Knight" is a perfect example, with his backstory revealed in fragments, maintaining audience curiosity.

Audience Connection

Authentic character reactions greatly enhance audience connection:

Make Characters React Authentically

Characters should react in ways true to their personality and history. This authenticity helps create a deeper bond with the audience. For instance, if a character with a past addiction walks past a casino, their reaction should reflect their struggle, making the scene more believable and engaging.

Indie Filmmaking

Indie filmmaking often has budget limitations. However, focusing on character development can make indie films stand out:

Character Development on a Budget

Emphasize Character Depth

Indie filmmakers often face resource constraints, but focusing on character depth can distinguish their films. Films like "Pig" and "Chef" feature characters who are deeply passionate about their craft, making the story compelling despite budget limitations.

Utilize Visual Cues

Visual cues can help create memorable characters, especially in indie films with restricted resources. Providing each character with a defining visual cue can instantly remind the audience who they are, as suggested in tips for creating unforgettable characters.

New Jersey and New York Filmmakers

Filmmakers from these areas have made significant contributions to memorable movie characters. Here are some examples:

Iconic Characters from the Region

Examples from Local Filmmakers

Filmmakers from New Jersey and New York have crafted iconic characters that resonate with audiences. For instance, the characters in "The Fabelmans" by Steven Spielberg, who has ties to New York, are deeply passionate and motivational, highlighting the importance of character development.

Advice from Local Screenwriters

Screenwriters from the region stress the importance of knowing your character inside out. This includes understanding their backstory, motivations, fears, and desires. For example, a screenwriter may delve into the character's personality, quirks, and emotional journey to create a more authentic and multi-dimensional character.

Actionable Insights and Tips

Understand Your Character's Past: Be aware of the history that shapes your character today. This aids in creating authentic and relatable characters.

Show, Don’t Tell: Reveal character traits through actions, dialogue, and reactions rather than direct statements.

Embrace Flaws: Welcome flaws and vulnerabilities to add depth and complexity to your characters.

Develop Unique Voices: Give each character a unique voice and manner of speaking to distinguish them and enrich the storytelling.

Establish Relationships: Explore the dynamics between characters to add richness to the narrative and promote character growth.

Build Intrigue: Keep some aspects of a character's past or motivations mysterious to create intrigue and keep the audience engaged.

Utilize Visual Cues: Provide each character with a defining visual cue to make them memorable, especially in indie films with limited resources.

Creating memorable film characters is a multifaceted process that involves deep character development, authentic reactions, and engaging storytelling. By understanding a character's backstory, making them flawed and relatable, and establishing strong relationships, filmmakers can create characters that resonate with audiences. Whether in mainstream film production or indie filmmaking, these principles are crucial for achieving both artistic and audience success.

#FilmCharacters #IndieFilmmaking #CharacterDevelopment #FilmmakingTips

Create characters that resonate with your audience. Learn more at https://www.kvibe.com

[stateofsport211]

Porto 2 Ch R1: Henrique Rocha [3] def. Yshai Oliel [Alt] 6-1, 6-2 Match Stats

📸 ATP official website

It was a total demolition from H. Rocha, whose groundstrokes left a little to no room for Oliel as the former scored numerous important winners. This reflected the contrasting forms between both players, where the third seed created 7 break points and converted 4 of them compared to Oliel's non-conversion of his 2 break points earlier in the first set, while retaining 88% of his first serve points with his 2 aces as he left Oliel's second serves more vulnerable with just a 30% winning percentage despite double-faulting 5 times.

In the second round, H. Rocha will face Daniel Masur, who previously defeated Pedro Sakamoto 6-2, 2-6, 6-2 in a chaotic encounter. This could be an exciting match at their best, testing their offensives and depth to some extent, but nothing looked impossible until the match was called at the end. Should be another match to watch outside the bright lights of New York!

[arrhakis]

Prayers On The Rivers Of Libya - Tribute by Daniel Arrhakis (2023)

Prayers For Libya

دعاء من أجل ليبيا

More Than 5,000 Dead in Libya as Collapsed Dams Worsen Flood Disaster

In a catastrophe recalling Hurricane Katrina, a heavy storm burst through dams to unleash their waters on the city of Derna, sweeping away entire neighborhoods.

This is my tribute and prayers to all the people of Libya in this so sad and tragic moments ... a people especially martyred by a fratricidal and senseless war...

More Than 5,000 Dead in Libya as Collapsed Dams Worsen Flood Disaster - The New York Times www.nytimes.com/2023/09/12/world/middleeast/libya-floods-...

How to help Libya flood victims :

www.pledge.to/help-libya-flood-victims

Libya floods: IFRC announces CHF 10 million appeal for urgent relief efforts | IFRC www.ifrc.org/press-release/libya-floods-ifrc-announces-ch...

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[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

The Invitation Chapter 2

here on ao3 or read below

Fishkill, New  York, 1993

Daniel’s head is pounding.  He buries his face further into the cushion of the couch to hide from the light peeking in the window.  He’d gone out last night with a source who needed some liquid courage to talk.  Daniel had joined, then ended up out-drinking him.  

It didn’t matter.  He’d already gotten all the information he needed at that point.  So he drank and smoked and shot the shit at the bar and got home late.  Alice hadn’t even spoken to him; there was a pillow and blanket on the couch and the bedroom door was locked.

Nobody ever said marriage was easy.

He’s about to drift back to sleep, when a small hand shakes his shoulder.  “Dad.  Hey Dad.  Daddy.  Dad, wake up.”

Daniel blinks open his eyes to see his youngest daughter standing in front of him, between the couch and the television.  Paige looks more like him than Alice, has his dark curls and green eyes.  She turned nine this year, but she’s small for her age.  That she gets from Alice, who is petite.  Freckles are scattered over the bridge of her nose and she’s bouncing on the heels of her feet.  “Are you awake yet?”

“Nope, I’m sleeping with my eyes open.”  Sarcasm is in his nature, but he’s never unkind with it to his daughters.  

“Why are you on the couch?” she asks. 

Because sometimes mommys and daddys don’t get along.  But Daniel can’t say that.  “Got home late last night.  I didn’t wanna wake up your mom.”

“Oh.”

Daniel looks at Paige expectedly.  

“Oh, right,” Paige says.  She’s a bit scatter-brained, his youngest.  Always jumping from one thought to the next.  Always full of energy too.  “Margo is playing with a rat.”

Daniel rubs a hand over his face and sighs.  “Where is she?”

“In the backyard, by the swing,” Paige says, and wrinkles her nose.  “It’s dead.”

Daniel forces himself to his feet–sleeping on the couch didn’t do any favors for his back–and heads through the living room, into the kitchen and out the back door.  His oldest is out under the singular tree in the yard, by the old tire swing Daniel had built years ago.  There is indeed a dead rat in front of her.  

“Whatcha got there?”

Margo turns her head to look at him.  She looks more like Alice.  She has Alice’s light brown hair and eyes.  She’s tall and gangly, at that awkward age.  Eleven.  Her skin is pasty white from time spent indoors.  Round glasses frame eyes that are already too big for her face.  Her forehead is small and her nose sharp, giving her an owl-like appearance.  

Margo gives a guilty jerk and holds up her hands.  She’s wearing Alice’s blue and white polka dot gardening gloves.  “It’s okay, I didn’t touch it with my bare hands.”

Daniel crosses the yard in his bare feet towards his daughter.  Upon closer look, he can see the rat is sliced open down its middle.  Parts of its insides have been taken out and laid down alongside it.  There’s a pocket knife in Margo’s left hand.  Daniel reaches out and takes it.

“I didn’t kill it,” Margo says, as if that’s the pressing issue.  “I found it under the swing.”

“Uh-huh,” Daniel says.  “And is there a reason you’re dissecting it?”

“I wanted to see what its insides looked like,” Margo says simply.  She crosses her arms defensively.  “I didn’t hurt it or anything.”

“I know,” Daniel says, wondering why he got the weirdest kid on the planet.  He loves that kid, though.  Smart as a whip.  “Let’s bury it before Mom sees.”

Margo bites her lip and nods.  “Mom doesn’t like my experiments.”

Daniel reaches out and ruffles Margo’s hair.  “Go get breakfast, I’ll handle this.”

A few minutes later, the back door opens and Alice comes out.  Her long hair is up in a messy ponytail and she’s wearing sweats and an old Rolling Stones tee shirt of Daniel’s.  She has two mugs of coffee in her hands.  She comes up to Daniel and looks at the shovel in his hands.  “Do I even want to know?”

“Margo found a dead rat,” Daniel says.  

Alice wrinkles her nose and passes him the blue mug with the chip in it.  It’s Daniel’s favorite mug.  “How ya feeling?”

“My back hurts.  Thanks.”

Alice takes a sip of her own coffee.  “Maybe if you came home at a reasonable hour, I wouldn’t have locked the door.”

She’s trying to sound casual, but she’s irritated.  Daniel can always tell–she gets a bit of a Southern twang when she’s mad.  It was worse when they first met, and she was a transplant from South Carolina.  She moved to New York City to make it as a writer.  She was a political journalist who spent most of her career shitting on Reagan.  

“Didn’t know I had a curfew.”

Alice fixes him with a look.  “I didn’t know you needed one.”

Daniel doesn’t want to fight.  They’ve been bickering a lot lately.  A lot more than they’ve been having sex, that’s for sure.  Daniel can’t remember the last time they fucked, and even then, it had been a half-hearted thing.  He takes another sip of coffee and says nothing.

“You have mail, by the way.  All the way from San Francisco.”  Alice turns to head back in.  “I left it in your office.”  She reaches the door and looks back at Daniel, bites her lip and looks like she’s contemplating saying something.  

She doesn’t.  She goes back inside, leaving Daniel alone.  Daniel heads to his office and finds a stack of tapes wrapped in brown paper.  There’s a envelope with it.  Daniel opens it and inside is a letter.  

“Dear Mr. Molloy,

I hope this letter finds you safe and thriving.  I've been following your career with some interest since our last meeting. Please allow me to congratulate you on all your successes, those professional and those personally redemptive.

The passage of time has provided me perspective. And I suspect the same might be for you, as well. I'm hoping pride won't deter you from the following proposal I am to make.

In a week's time, I want to fly you to my home In San Francisco to discuss revisiting the project boyish youth prevented us from finishing.

Twenty years removed from the room we shared, I offer, for your journalistic pleasures, my full attention and my life story.

Come meet with me to discuss the proposal.  A single weekend, to convince you to finish what we started.  You may decide from there whether you choose to take the story or not.

All affinities,

Louis de Pointe du Lac.”

There’s already a plane ticket in the envelope.  Daniel’s hands sweat just thinking of that night, and his hand goes to his neck, to the old scar.  It would be beyond stupid to do this.

Fortunately, that’s never stopped Daniel Molloy before.

[wardenparker]

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 13

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.

Rating: Explicit for references to violence. 18+   Word Count: 7.6k   Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Angst, guilt, possible unwanted pregnancy, lies, nausea/illness, talk of abortion, anxiety, canon typical injuries. Summary: Your return from New York is bumpy to say the least, and things to awry that no one ever could have predicted. Notes: This chapter is short but packed with intensity, which only means one time. I once again cried during the entire edit 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

Jack taps on his thigh impatiently as he waits, the jet steadily sinking towards the ground. He had decided to come to the airstrip to collect you, especially since there had been no text from you beyond that simple text last night before you had gone out with the girls. He hadn’t expected you to stay on your phone but he had anticipated a text Goodnight. When it hadn’t come, he stayed awake, only falling asleep when he had checked your location to find you back in the hotel. There’s a feeling he gets when something’s not right, he had it the morning you disappeared. That sinking, curdling feeling in his stomach. The threat of bile in the back of his throat. That same feeling has saved his skin more times than he can count and he wonders why he has it now as the Statesman jet touches down.

The decision to cut the trip short and come back after one day had been easy, thankfully. Sophia was being called in to start a case and you weren’t feeling too jolly anyway, so the three of you had packed it in on the afternoon of the second day and come home. The last thing you expected to find when you stepped out of the plane was Jack waiting on the tarmac in the Bronco, but he’s there in all his glory making the guilt and worry churn inside you with every step you take closer to him.

You don’t look happy to see him, but Jack keeps the easy smile on his face as climbs out of the Bronco and waves to all three of you, his eyes firmly landed on you though.

“Hey.” Swallowing the bile and fear welling up in your throat, you step onto solid ground with a quick farewell to your girls and acknowledge that your plan of heading straight to Ginger’s lab is now sunk.

“Hey.” Jack watches the way that your eyes shift over towards Gabi and Sophia. “I’m not spoilin’ plans am I? The tower called and said the plane was comin’ back tonight so I wanted to make sure you got home.” The unspoken question of why you didn’t tell him you were coming home lingers in the air.

“Of course not. Nothing to spoil.” Lying to him makes you feel like you’re going to choke on each word, but how could you do anything else? How can you tell him what you’re afraid of? It’s impossible - it would ruin everything. So you force a smile and lead the way back to the Bronco on wobbly legs. “I was going to come and surprise you, but you beat me to it.”

“Hopefully it’s a good idea.” Something is wrong. There’s a nervous tremor to your voice and he doesn’t know what would put it there. “Tired from a wild trip?”

“A little.” Mostly you’re tired from your own frayed nerves, but you let him take your suitcase and get into the truck when he holds your door open a moment later. “We were out late and then up early again this morning.”

“So what you really want is a soak in the tub and the bed?” He asks, shooting you a small smirk. It’s been nearly a week since he’s touched you and he wants to desperately.

“Actually? That sounds pretty amazing.” If he thinks you’re tired - which you are, but emotionally - he might not push tonight. And you don’t want to have to deny him because Jack is still Jack and you want that intimacy with him; but you’re terrified of what might be going on with you and you won’t have an answer until you can go see Astrid.

“I’m more than willin’ to throw in a massage.” Jack climbs in beside you and the second his hand hits your thigh, you tense. Making him pause for a moment in shock. You’ve never tensed around him, not even when you were freshly recovering from your injuries.

“I think I’m still a little hungover.” Lying again makes you feel like you could burst out crying on the spot, but you know he felt the way you froze at his touch and you’re about twenty seconds away from just confessing everything. At least you’re honestly queasy - that would come with the hangover but instead it’s fear. Or the baby…who knows.

“Okay.” Jack slowly slides his hand away from your thigh, making it seem as if it’s a part of starting the Bronco and turning around, but he’s perfectly capable of doing that one handed.

The drive home is quiet – silent except for the sound of the engine and the quiet classic rock playing through the radio like usual. They’re the sounds of home, and you should be chattering away at him about your trip or deciding what to have for dinner tonight but you just feel like a lump of anxieties in that front seat with him. It’s not until the house is in view that you open your mouth again. “Sophia got called up. I—I didn’t know if you knew or not.”

“Yeah– uh,” Jack drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m going with her.”

“Wha—” You look over at him in confusion and see the set look of worry on his face. “I didn’t know you’d passed your tests. That’s—that’s great, honey. You’ve been dying to get back in the field.”

“Yeah, I finished them up yesterday.” Jack tells you awkwardly. “Didn’t seem the type of thing to text and we didn’t talk.”

“Right.” That’s your fault, and you swallow the guilt harshly. “Well…congratulations.”

“Figured I’d go out and do a field assessment on Sophia and give her a little back up.” Jack hums, wondering why you are being so stiff. “Promised Tex I’d look after her.”

“She applied for Statesman status.” Talking about friends is good. It doesn’t fuel the fire of fear in your belly the same way. “Champ probably wants your assessment before he signs the final paperwork.”

“Yeah. That’s the plan.” Jack chuckles, “the kid is worryin’ me to death about it.” He tells you. “Talkin’ about how he doesn’t want to be away from his soulmate. ‘Specially since they are talkin’ about trying for a little one. Says he’s eager to father his soulmate’s babies.” If you weren’t acting strange, it could be a segue way in to a conversation about kids for you and him. But he decides to leave it.

“O—oh, I…Soph hasn’t mentioned it.” All the attention during the trip had been on the dresses and on getting you to feel better, which was an impossible task. “Good for them,” you manage to say the words without being sick, which is better than you thought.

“Might be Tex projectin’ a little. Man wants to be a daddy.” He chuckles again and the silence falls between the two of you again as he parks the Bronco in front of the house.

That feeling of dread pulls at your now perpetually upset stomach, tearing you out of your seat and making you run in the front door as fast as humanly possible to make it to the bathroom before you’re sick all over the front walk or living room. You have no doubt that Tex does want to be a father. You had even talked about it with him at different points, from the point of view of an excited friend. Knowing that you might be the one to make it happen instead of Sophia - instead of his soulmate - has you clinging to the toilet bowl as you hear Jack’s boots rumble across the ground floor of the house.

“Sugar?” Jack frowns, hearing the obvious signs of sickness and the dread that threatens to overtake him nearly has him stuck in place. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” The tears in your eyes are easily dismissible with being sick, even as you’re choking back sobs. “Hangover.” Is your weak excuse, hoping he buys it.

Jack is a lot of things but slow ain’t one of them. He distinctly remembers the night your breasts were sore and you’ve been tired and feelin’ poorly. He’s also pretty damn good at math. Stumbling back from the downstairs bathroom, he swallows down the urge to break something or someone. “I– I’ll go run you that bath then.”

“Thanks…” The fact that he didn’t come in is a blessing, but you’re still pretty sure that you heard hurt in his voice. Some piece of shit soulmate you are…

He feels kind of sick himself, turning around and racing upstairs as he tries to rationalize the information he has. It’s hard to, though. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant and it’s not his. He closes his eyes after he turns on the water to the tub and sighs.

You stay downstairs a while, getting yourself back under control and rinsing out your mouth before you slog up to the master bathroom with the big claw footed bathtub where Jack is sitting looking gray in the face. “Absinthe…” you shrug like it explains everything, even though you didn’t drink at all after the play. “I took the girls to a 30s bar last night…”

“Yeah.” Jack huffs a flat laugh. “I–I gotta go pack. So I’ll leave you to rest.” He pushes off the small little seat that you had told him was for a makeup area and swallows.

“When are you leaving?” Despite not exactly being ready to have a heart-to-heart with him, you so desperately want to just launch yourself into his arms and beg forgiveness. Beg that he not call off the wedding. Promise him that you have a solution. But you’re too frozen.

“I– we were going to leave tomorrow morning, but I’m going to go early.” Jack offers. “Scout the situation.”

“So you’re leaving tonight?” It’s a punch in your already roiling gut, but you nod.

He isn’t. He’s going to go sit in his office and try not to drive himself crazy. But he can’t stay near you and not ask questions. “Yeah.”

“Do you know how long you’ll be gone?” You can’t ask him where he’s going, or why, or anything about the mission, but a general time frame could be helpful. It would let you know how long you have to recover.

“Not sure. Week, maybe more.” Jack shrugs, not looking directly at you. “Sorry, sugar, but I know you won’t even notice I’m gone. You got the restaurant to baby and –” he chokes on his choice of words and coughs to cover it up. “You’ll be so busy you won’t have time to miss me.”

“That’s not true.” As riddled with fear and anxiety and guilt and everything else as you are, you’re all of those things because you love him. And because you really don’t go a single minute of any day without thinking about him. “Of course I’ll miss you.”

“It’s– it’ll be okay.” It’s more towards himself than you but he manages a small smile. “I promise.”

“Do you at least want me to make dinner?” There’s a scrambling in your thoughts that you can’t account for. He’s slipping away, you can feel it, but you have a plan to fix it. You just need to put it in motion.

“Nah, sugar.” Jack shakes his head, knowing he can’t eat right now. “You aren’t feelin’ good. You relax. I’ll be packed up and out of your hair in a jiffy.”

“Okay.” Something about him is off but you can’t put your finger on it. He just seems jittery. Hopefully it’s just you projecting or your imagination. Jack is already out in the hall by the time you murmur, “I love you,” and you sigh heavily before you start to undress.

In the closet, Jack closes his eyes and tries to remind himself to breathe. He had caused this. He had pushed you away and caused you to date. Because of his unwillingness to admit your connection. It was his fault you are pregnant with a child that isn’t his.

Once you’re in the tub you can hear him moving around in the adjoining closet, packing things and presumably going about his business as normal. The jasmine-scented bath he drew for you is as cozy as it could possibly get, and any other time you would have begged him to join you. There would have been candles and music and glasses of something smooth and heady to drink while you lazily rode him right here in this tub. And the fact that you’re not doing that right now has you staring silently at your silver-painted toenails when you finally hear him in the hallway again.

“Sugar, I’m all packed.” For some reason, he can’t go into the bathroom. Not when you’re vulnerable. He calls out through the closed door. “I’m gunna head out.”

“O–okay.” You know that any other time, you would just pop out of the bath and run into the hallway, but you can’t. You’re rooted to porcelain and fresh tears start falling immediately. “I love you,” you manage, this time loud enough for him to hear.

Jack closes his eyes, leaning against the door frame with his arm braced above his head as his forehead is against the jam. “I love you too, sugar.” He murmurs, the affirmation coming through low but clear. It’s almost ominous, a goodbye. “Be good.” He sighs and pushes away from the door, the bag hooked over his shoulder as he turns and walks away.

The fall of boot steps and the closing of the front door make your volatile stomach drop all over again, and you reach for your phone after wiping your hands on a towel. You need this over with. To Astrid, you type out as vague a message as you can just in case she shows it to Gabi or asks her if anything happened on the trip: “Hey honey! I don’t want to interrupt your night, but would you be able to put aside time for me to stop by the lab in the morning? I’d like to ask your opinion on something. Thanks!”

The text comes back only seconds later. "I've always got time for you. Drop by anytime in the morning and we can have some coffee together."

******

You have to force yourself to wait, the next morning. It was impossible to sleep through the worry and without Jack there, and you blew through an entire novel overnight before showering, putting on clean clothes, and getting yourself out the door to the lab. The door swishes open dramatically but you still knock on the frame, holding two cups from the Statesman cafeteria when you cautiously step inside. Yours is chamomile tea for the seemingly endless nausea, but hers is that quad shot almond milk mocha latte that she loves so much. “Morning,” you murmur quietly when she looks up.

"Hi." Gabi had said that you had been acting strangely, and the slightly wane, waxy set to your face shows that you have been dealing with things. "How are you feeling?" She accepts the cup and takes a sip as she watches you closely.

“Not great.” That’s a fucking understatement, but at least it’s honest. “I need to ask you for a favor, Astrid. Two favors, really. But I need to ask you to keep this entirely between us. Not even Gabi or Jack can ever know.”

Frowning, she pushes her glasses up further on her face, taking this as a more 'business than pleasure' visit. "You have my word and discretion." She promises. "Are you hurt? Did you have a flashback from your visit to New York?"

“No.” Sitting down on the other side of her desk, your hands cradle your cup of tea until they get too jittery and you have to set it down in front of you. Astrid is your friend. She’s Jack’s friend. And now you’re asking her to put the longer-running of the two relationships aside. It’s enough to bring fresh tears, which you breathe away steadily. “I think…” Another shaky exhale has you look down at your hands when you can’t look her in the eyes. “I think I might be…pregnant.” You tell her quietly.

"Oh!" At first the sound is happy, until she reads the moment and slumps back in her chair when the wave of melancholy hits. "Ooohhh." She bites her lip, understanding that with the timing of this, you are not happy. How could you be? The probability of knowing you were pregnant with Jack's child are statistically very low. She sets her coffee down and reaches out to touch your hand. "First thing’s first." She murmurs quietly. "If you are, it will be okay." She assures you quietly.

“No. It won’t.” It should be so comforting to have her reach out, but instead you feel like the act of familiarity is a burn. You jerk away awkwardly before slumping forward again. “The last time I had my period was the week before I slept with Tex. That was months ago. There’s…there’s no way it could be Jack’s and I—I—” If you could get through even a sentence without crying it would be a miracle, but even when you practiced it at home it was impossible. “I know there’s a tiny chance. I just…if I am…is there a way to find out whose it is?”

"Yes there is." Astrid nods, her heart breaking for you, with you, over this. "Would you–" she pauses. "It would take only a few hours in the chamber." She tells you quietly. "If you didn't want to–"

“If it’s not Jack’s, I can’t.” Grateful that you’re not the one who had to say it, you still shudder at the reality of the situation. “What are the alternatives, really? Have Tex’s baby? Have your brother’s baby? I—I don’t— I don’t even think I could live with myself, and Jack sure as fuck would not still marry me, soulmate or otherwise.” It all comes tumbling out, the fears and anxieties, and you find yourself scratching viciously at your arms again as your breathing goes shallow – another panic attack bubbling out of your throat at the thought of losing Jack for any reason.

“I don’t think he would go that far.” Astrid tells you quietly. Would Jack be devastated? Oh yes he would. But he’s also a man who accepts mistakes because he’s made plenty of his own. Especially where you are concerned.

“I need to know, Astrid.” As quiet as your voice is, at least it’s determined. “Because I can’t do that to Jack.”

“We can find that out quick enough.” She promises, patting your hand and standing up. “Why don’t you go get undressed and put on a gown.” She offers, motioning towards the table in the corner.

“Thank you.” It feels like walking to your own death sentence as you disappear to change and sit down on the exam table on the far side of the lab. The thing is…you have to know. You have to. And that’s enough to make you sick all over again.

Astrid keeps her emotions in check and moves efficiently as she prepares for the exam. The machine will do most of it. She moves over and touches your shoulder. “Lay back, okay?”

“Okay.” The best you can do is to remind yourself to breathe, but even that is hard right now.

As soon as you lay back, Astrid presses a button on her table and a line of laser light starts scanning over your body. “Hold still.” She urges when you twitch. “It won’t hurt.”

Presumably the laser doesn’t care if you continue to shed a few anxious tears, but you keep the rest of your body still as it travels. Whatever comes next, you just have to promise yourself that you’ll handle it before Jack comes home. That everything will be done by the time Jack comes home.

Ginger’s face doesn’t give anything away as she studies the tablet, punching the screen with her fingers and she looks up. “There’s going to be a needle for a quick blood draw.” She tells you, not wanting you to be upset if you aren’t expecting it.

“Okay.” Whatever she needs to do, that’s what is going to happen. Right now it just matters that you keep breathing.

The needle is small and the amount of blood taken even smaller. Just enough to run the labs and confirm what she can already see. You wince but you don’t say anything and when the machine moves away, she gravitates towards you. “Let’s get you redressed and then we can talk.” She murmurs softly.

“Okay.” The word passes your lips one more time and you lift yourself up from the table to shaky legs. Frankly it’s a miracle you’re as functional as you are, and you step back behind the partition to put your clothes on silently.

She triple checks the test and when you come back around the small partition, there is a small cup of pills waiting for you. “Here.” She offers.

“What are these?” It doesn’t really matter. You’ll take them no matter what. But if she’s giving you pills to end an unwanted pregnancy, you at least want to observe the moment with some seriousness.

“Some vitamins. Your vitamin B and C levels are low. A Valium to help you relax and sleep.”

“H-how long will the blood work take?” Everything at Statesman - and everything in this lab - is state of the art, but that doesn’t mean knowledge is magical or instant. You take the pills that Astrid is holding out to you and brace yourself for however long she might say you have to wait.

“I’ve got the results back.” She assures you softly, smiling at you. “The blood work and the ultrasound tell me that you are not pregnant.”

For a second you just stare at her. You were convinced. You were sure that you had ruined the very best thing in your life. And now that it isn’t true, the relief you feel punches through you like some kind of Eldritch horror. “You’re—” The tears are different this time, still hot and angry when they come down your face in sheets, but now you’re only angry at yourself for ruining the last few days with the people you love. “You’re sure?” You ask, hiccuping between great, bulbous tears.

“Your womb is clear, there’s no evidence of an ectopic pregnancy. Your hCG levels are low, no chance of pregnancy. I ran the test three times to confirm. You are not pregnant.” She promises, turning the screen around so you can see the ultrasound of your stomach and the test results.

“So I was just…sick?” The screen she shows you is like a perversely high tech version of the ultrasound information you remember from going to the doctor with your sister years ago, so you have some vague notion of what you would see if the test was positive. This, though? This is perfectly normal. Like your body has never even heard of the concept of a baby in the first place. The hand that instinctively moves to cover your stomach goes there out of disbelief, and you lay back on the table with a tight sigh.

“You’ve been under a lot of stress and –” Astrid shakes her head and sighs softly, berating herself. “Sometimes with the healing of traumatic injuries, the side effects of the hyperbaric chamber can be….odd.” She explains. “I thought Jack told you.”

“He did.” He had been very careful to warn you, in fact. “But we just thought my side effect was how tired I was that week.”

“Your body is vastly different from Jack's, especially considering his injury was brain trauma.” Ginger rationalizes. “Yours was more physically manifested and it makes sense that your reproductive cycle has been thrown off.”

“Stress and healing.” All you can do is accept it, especially when the alternative is…alarming. After spending 48 hours panicking about the possibilities, are you really…upset that the answer wasn’t a little month-old fetus genetically encoded with Jack’s soft, coffee-colored eyes and adorable single dimple? Honestly? You really might be…

Ginger’s eyes are quizzical, tilting her head at the riot of emotions crossing your face. “Are you– disappointed?”

“I—don’t know,” you admit softly, staring up at the ceiling so that you don’t have to see the concern on her face.

“It has to be confusing.” She pats your shoulder again. “I know that you have been stressed. I don’t want you going in today. Take the day and relax.”

“Doctor’s orders.” Right now you just want to go home and get back in that bath that Jack had drawn for you yesterday. Pretend like last night had never happened and crawl into his arms in bed. But he’s back out in the field and you’re…you’ve never felt more alone than you do right now, which is not how you expected to feel at all. But that isn’t the fault of the woman next to you. “I…thank you, Astrid. I just need to get my head on straight. But…thank you for helping me.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” She doesn’t hesitate to pull you in for what she thinks is a much needed hug. Knowing that you must have felt so scared and alone. No wonder why you had suddenly withdrawn if you had thought you were pregnant. “Anytime.”

“Hopefully not for this reason.” You sigh out, hugging her back fiercely. “Not until it’s happy anticipation and Jack is back here with me.”

“Did Jack know?” She asks curiously. “Is that why he slept in his office last night?”

“He—?” The panic is back without hesitation, choking you and making you feel dizzy. “He told me he was leaving early to—” Oh god. You’ve ruined it. You’ve ruined it anyway. “No one knew.”

She winces, cursing herself for sticking her nose in where it doesn’t belong. “I’m sure– they left really early.” She supplies hastily. “Maybe he didn’t want to bother you. Since you weren’t feeling good.”

“Maybe.” That isn’t it, and both of you know it. There isn’t a chance in hell that Jack wouldn’t have just slipped silently out of bed early this morning if things had been normal. This is your fault. You must have been acting stranger than you thought, and he’s an especially perceptive man to begin with.

“They should be back in just a day or so.” Ginger reasons quietly, wondering if it wouldn’t be better to talk to Jack herself before he gets back. “It’s a quick op.”

“But—” You catch yourself and nod. Astrid doesn’t need to know that Jack said it would be a week. That your relationship with your soulmate is crumbling before it ever gets off the ground. Instead you stand up from the table and accept another hug. “Thanks,” you murmur quietly. “Again. For everything.”

“Of course.” She tightens her grip on you and pulls back to give you an encouraging smile. “Go get some rest and everything will be normal when you wake up.”

******

It’s after dark when you wake up again, disheveled in one of Jack’s t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants that should probably have been replaced years ago. You’re hungry, which is usually a good sign, so you throw on a cardigan and trudge downstairs in search of food — only to come face-to-face with Diana walking in the front door as quietly as a church mouse. “Di?” Maybe she was coming to check on you? That is perfectly in keeping with her personality, after all. Universal mom friend.

“Hey.” She tries for a smile but it falters, the worry shining through her face is way too obvious to hide. “I need you to sit down, sweetheart.” The slight tremble in her voice makes her words waver.

“What’s wrong?” When your stomach flips this time, you at least know it isn’t from an act of your own stupidity, but it unnerves you all the same. Diana looks pale and you take the last two steps quickly to reach her side. “Di, what happened?”

She guides you over to the couch, aware that you might collapse if you are standing up. Especially since Ginger had indicated you weren’t feeling the best. “Jack is– he’s been hurt.” She tries to break the news gently but there is never a good way to say this. “He’s – they have him stable but it’s serious.”

The first reaction you have, before anything else, is to insist that she’s wrong. Jack is a good agent and he’s with Sophia and there’s no way that could happen. But her face is so serious, lined with anxiety and uncertainty. “Where?” You ask, when you can finally swallow past the fear forming in your gut. “Where is he?”

"He's on a chopper, about an hour out." Diana swallows harshly, trying to tamp down her own fear in order to be here for you.

“How serious is serious?” You’re already up again and walking to the door to slip into a pair of shoes, ready to go wherever you need to be. If the last thing you ever say to Jack was a weak declaration of love through a closed door, you’ll never fucking forgive yourself.

"They've almost lost him twice on the way here." Diana stands and quickly rushes over towards you. "But as soon as Ginger gets him into the chamber, he will be alright."

“What the hell happened?” Your purse is sitting by the door like always, and you grab it without even a second thought. Heart racing, blood pounding, and stomach threatening to revolt is how you went to the lab this morning, and it’s how you’re going again tonight.

"I'm not exactly sure. He was shot. It ruptured his spleen and he had fallen when he was hit so there is internal bleeding." Diana doesn't have much information, but she's willing to tell you what she knows.

“But Ginger can help him.” It’s not a question, as the two of you bolt outside and into Diana’s car. Your mind is racing, but instead of devolving into desperate sadness you feel like you’ve hit some kind of problem-solving mode.

“She’s going to do everything she can.” Diana promises, cranking the engine and throwing the car into reverse. “You know Ginger.”

“He…left early last night, Di.” There’s nothing for you to do while she drives but sit there, and you fidget in your seat. “I was distant when I came home from New York and he slept in his office last night before they shipped out.”

“Did you have a fight?” She could have sworn everything was good between you.

“Not exactly.” It was all just so uncomfortable, and now you’re facing the reality of Jack coming back hurt and you can’t stand it. “Things have been off lately and it’s my fault, but I—I can’t let that be the last time we see each other.”

“Is it because you’re pregnant and the baby isn’t Jack’s?” Diana asks quietly.

“How did—” You stare at her from the passenger seat, jaw almost unhinged, and sigh. Did Jack put your symptoms together just like you did and assume just like you did? “I’m not…just…for the record…I went to Astrid this morning…”

“Jack came by the house last night.” Diana admits quietly, looking over at you. “He wanted to talk to Champ.”

“I haven’t been myself lately, and I was feeling sick,” you begin, feeling like you need to explain yourself. “I added it all up while I was in New York and thought I might be pregnant. He—he must have done the same math. But Astrid said I’m absolutely not, and it must have been the healing from my incident that threw my body out of whack.”

“You don’t need to explain to me, sweetheart.” Diana assures you, giving you a soft smile. “Jack asked Champ – well, he asked him how quickly he accepted Bobby as his own, if it was hard on him.” She bites her lip. “Bobby isn’t Champ’s biological son. He adopted him at birth. I was pregnant when we met.”

“What?” This is definitely new information to you, especially since you had always thought that Bobby looked like the perfect mix of his parents. “I—I mean—I had no idea.”

“It’s not something that many people know.” Diana admits. “Roger admittedly looked similar to Champ. So thankfully there’s never been any questions from strangers. He unfortunately never knew that he was going to be a father before Bobby’s biological dad died. Car accident.”

“I’m so sorry.” It’s a lot of information to take in, but you do your best to wrap your head around it as Diana parks in her designated space outside the main Statesman building and the two of you jump out to go up to the lab. “So…I don’t…Jack wanted to talk to him? About—about accepting Bobby?” It’s such a gut punch on top of all the things you’ve already dealt with over the last few days, to think that Jack was trying to figure out how to support you when you had feared he would call everything off instead.

“Jack admitted that he thought you might be pregnant and that it would be way too soon in your relationship for it to be his child.” Diana had excused herself to make some tea and let the men have their talk, but Jack hadn’t been trying to hide the conversation. “And he didn’t want to lose you over it. Said it was his own damn fault if it was the case and it damn sure wouldn’t be the kid’s fault.”

“I was so sure he’d hate me.” You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cried today, and it doesn’t matter anymore. Crying over this makes sense. “That Sophia would hate me, or Tex, or even everyone, for making their lives more complicated…”

“It would be complicated.” She won’t deny that. “But if you had been pregnant, that baby would have just had two sets of parents.”

“But now he’s hurt.” That familiar feeling of panic is right under the surface, but you swallow it down as the elevator shuts to bring you both upstairs. “And the last thing that happened between us was awkwardness. I—he—I didn’t even kiss him goodbye, Di.”

“You’ll kiss him hello.” Diana tells you with a certainty she doesn’t exactly feel but she needs you to believe. “And kiss him every time he leaves the room from now on.”

There’s a fear there that’s too great to acknowledge, but you nod and follow her out of the elevator when it reaches the floor that the lab is on. You can’t bring yourself to ask out loud what the machine might do to him this time. He’d come out of it an admittedly different man last time, and when you were healed by it, it had turned your body around on itself. Who knows what effect it might have on Jack tonight, and that is terrifying to think about.

Diana keeps a tight hold on your hand as the lab doors open and Ginger, along with several of her assistants, rush around to get things ready. The screen overhead is on, displaying the camera from the helicopter medic’s helmet. Jack is laying on a gurney, his shirt and jacket cut from his body and his normally golden skin gray, blood covering his torso.

“Oh god…” Instinctively clutching Diana’s hand tighter, you stay out of the way of the bustling medics but keep your eyes glued to the screen. He looks like he’s been ripped open from the side and you have the heaviest instinct of violence you’ve ever felt in your life. Whoever did this to your soulmate had better hope you never find them. You may not be a trained Statesman agent, but you’re certain in this moment that it wouldn’t matter. You’d tear them limb from limb and turn them into dinner.

“BP dropping!” The medic’s staticky voice comes over the speakers. “There’s another fucking bleed somewhere!”

“Diana…” The grip you have on her hand is unforgiving while you watch the monitor, but she squeezes yours back. “Please tell me that they got the guy that did this to him.”

“Sophia got them.” The camera twists as the medic reaches for something from the bag and you get a view of the other agent, sitting along the wall and looking worried, covered in blood. Jack’s blood.

“Fuck…” Sophia looks terrified as she sits on the other side of the stretcher, and you can’t stop yourself from instinctively reaching out even knowing they can’t see you and it won’t make any difference. That’s your friend and your soulmate in that chopper, and the only thing you can do is stand here. “There has to be something I can do,” you murmur, not knowing if anyone even hears. Not knowing if it’s even true.

“Nothing right now.” She knows how helpless you feel. “Just pray right now. Even if you don’t believe, pray.”

The two of you stay sitting in a corner, watching the feed from the camera on board the helicopter. They manage to stabilize Jack again but don’t seem confident about it, and it’s a full half hour before that camera shows the team landing on the Statesman helipad on the roof of the building so they can bring him inside.

When the team bursts through the doors with Jack, Sophia is hot on their heels. Immediately rushing over to you when she sees you spring to your feet. “I’m so sorry!” She cries. “I– I don’t know what the hell happened. He was perfectly fine one moment and then he was–” she gestures towards the gurney.

“You got the guy, right?” Whatever happened, you can’t rewind and undo it now, so when you look Sophia in the eyes that is the one thing you want to know. “The person who hurt Jack is dead?”

“Yes.” Her jaw clenches and she nods seriously. “He’s dead.”

“Good.” The team of medics is swarming Jack right now and you will not get in their way, so you hug Sophia close for just a few comforting seconds. The tears are mighty at this point - seeing him in person feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest. “Thank you for getting him home.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything less.” Sophia had probably saved his life, if it were told completely. If he had been alone, Jack would have bled to death before the team could have gotten there.

“Thank you.” It’s too much to think about what might have happened if Sophia hadn’t been with him. That’s not something you can swallow right now. You just hug her again instead. “I’m sure you have work to do. I’m going to stay with him.”

She nods reluctantly. “I have to clean up and report to Champ.” She squeezes you tight. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’ll be right here.” Under no circumstances would you go anywhere else. Not while Jack was fighting for his life.

Sophia can understand that. If it were Tex, she would be right there in your shoes. “Tex is headed in to sit with you.”

“Thank you.” There isn’t a whole lot else you can say without tumbling into anxiety, and frankly you’re terrified enough as it is. The comfort of friends sounds like a miracle. She squeezes your hand and turns around to quickly walk through the doors to go up to Champ’s office.

It isn't until Jack is fitted into the biometric pod and Ginger has his vitals stabilized that she lets you come closer, putting two chairs beside him for you and Tex. He had come in with water and snacks, warning you that worry is draining and that he was promising to sit up with you as long as it takes.

Diana stays off to the side with Ginger but she walks over to you and touches your shoulder after the first hour. "I am going back to the restaurant. Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of it all."

"Thanks, Di." Honestly you hadn't even looked at a clock since waking up and had no clue what time it was, so it seems a little shocking that the restaurant is even open. All you knew was it was after dark and you had been asleep. It could have been 3 a.m. and you wouldn't have known the difference. "I'm not–I can't leave him."

"Of course you can't." Diana huffs as if the mere idea is offensive. "If anyone has an issue with that, they can deal with me." She knows that none of your staff will argue, they will worry about Jack if they know. However, the civilian staff is normally kept in the dark concerning these matters. "I'll bring some dinner back later." She promises, leaning down and dropping a kiss on your head before leaving.

At a certain point, there isn't a lot you can do besides sit. You're wide awake beside Jack, sitting in silence with Tex as you both watch the monitors around your wounded warrior buzz and beep and flash every few seconds. It's a noisy room for the heavy weight of what's going on, busy despite the fact that no one is scurrying around any longer.

"It's different this time." Tex offers quietly, shuffling in his chair beside you and stretching his long legs in front of him. "He's got somethin' to live for. He fought death the last time and he didn't even have you. He'll pull through."

You huff softly, watching Jack's face as he sleeps in the biometrically-induced coma that is healing his body. "I don't know," you admit, feeling the way your jaw wobbles at the admission. "He's...we...last night was tense before he left."

"Hell, everyone, every relationship has tense days." Tex doesn't know the details, but it can't be that bad. "He knows you love him, he loves you."

"He, um..." The fact is, this concerns the man beside you as much as it concerns anyone else. This is Jack's emotional little brother. Your best friend's soulmate. Your friend. You swallow the guilt and the nerves, and you glance at Tex beside you with trepidation. There was a time barely twelve hours ago that you were resolved for him never to know. Now it feels dishonest to leave anything unsaid. "He thinks I'm pregnant," you murmur, knowing that the only person who could overhear you is Ginger and she's the one who ran the tests. "I'm not. But he thinks I could be..."

"Then he's got everything to live for." Tex lit up for a moment, happy for his friend even if he relaxed slightly when you told him that you're not pregnant. He knows Jack would be disappointed, but he would probably make a joke about being happy to practice some more. He's never seen Jack wanting kids, but it's got to be interesting.

"Not...not really." You glance back at him briefly before refocusing on Jack, deciding that this will be infinitely easier if you're not actually looking at Tex when you say it. "The thing is...because of the timing...he thinks...and even I thought...that it could be...well, yours."

He's silent for a minute. More than a minute, actually. Stunned into silence before he opens his mouth. "But....you're not." He says slowly, clarifying.

"No." The worry in his voice tells you everything it needs to. That if that baby had been real, it would have torn apart the fabric of your friendships just like you thought. "Ginger did the test this morning."

"I'm sorry that you've been going through this." Tex starts and then he hums. "I– did you start thinking you were when you were in New York? Sophia texted me and said she was worried about you."

"Yeah." There's just no way to hide how embarrassed you are, so you just sit there and watch Jack, not letting your eyes waver again. That's your whole life right there on that bed, and you don't know what the hell you'll do if he doesn't wake up. "Yeah, I...I did. Ginger says the pod must have thrown off my system after the kidnapping. It was just a fluke. The symptoms lined up but it was just a coincidence."

He sighs and reaches over to take your hand. It's not meant to be a romantic gesture. Rather, one of comfort. "I want you to know that no matter what, you have people who care about you. We are all a big, dysfunctional family." He jokes quietly. "If you had been, we would have...made it work."

"I wasn't going to keep it," you blurt out, clutching his hand for just the speck of comfort it provides. "I asked Ginger if she could find out. I didn't–" It's so much to hold on to, and you had isolated yourself so much that when it comes out of you it sort of just explodes everywhere. "I couldn't do that to all of you. I couldn't destroy our family and I just kind of panicked and shut down at the dress shop and I could barely even look at Jack when I came home. I couldn't look at him, or kiss him, or barely even talk to him and now he's this and if he doesn't wake up I don't think I could ever forgive myself."

"He's going to wake up." Tex promises you, a slightly desperate undercurrent to his voice. "He has to." His thoughts about you not keeping a baby, he keeps to himself. There's no way he could say what he would do under those circumstances, so he can't judge you.

"He has to." If he doesn't – if you lose the best thing in your life – then anything else around you is just noise. None of it matters.

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide​ @elegantduckturtle  ​

DtRH: @haileymorelikestupid @spishsstuff @missmarmaladeth @axshadows @a-gay-cryptid @sgt-morgan @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @flowers4copper @ghost-timelord @the0racl30fd3lphidos @all-the-way-down-here @bobafvcker @ficsbynight @dinoflower @supernaturalgirl20 @xdaddysprincessxx @bobawh0re @amiee-mitch18 @darkhairedmenrule @heyyimlaynna @strawberry-f4iry @3zm33atzbuss33 @whataghost @cyber666slut @nobody-000 @eddiemunsonsgirlfriendirl @lucciolaraven @powergirlsupremacy @secondsistershelby @dreadmars @androgynoushellscape @soytomatecherry @cheesecake-massacre @mylifeisbasedonashow @idiotickiddo @tomfeltonisbae @maratheidiot22 @im-nada @everybirdfellsilent @deepdarkdelights @brokenwhitegirl384 @ur-honey-child @caseket @copperrose15 @we-could-have-been @valkyries-ride @scarletmunson @strawberriricemilk @ghost-timelord @galactigoos @floridawaters @cutiepie6473 @pinball-vance @theslytherinwriter @scorpioswonder @stankyleg05 @fxdsketches @sad-innit @coffeyorky @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @starlordsonlywife @aura626 @mistresskei @marv3lwhor3 @sadimusprimee @yourwonderbelle @sgt-morgan @spot116 @milybaby018 @loserk1nks @artfulthoughtswp @aavw @babyrunsforfanfic @faceache111 @midnight-huntress @asimpleraccoonqueen @marki-moo0 @pages89 @rawr-bitches @rebel-fanfare @soooosha @luna-is-out-there @im-sylien @timpletance @certifiedhunter @ellenmunn @littlethief78 @tinalbion @eddy-y @tikibabi @whyidkok @bearcoon1666 @littlebirdsbookshelf @a-gay-cryptid @disaster-ahaha @viridiesa @axshadows @purplerain04 @karmarouge @holycyclehomo @sainteredhood @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @the-wishmonger @theliferuiner @raptorclaw24 @asp1r1ngm1lf @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @st4rl1ght444 @litholithium @tusk89 @youjustneedatherapist @nekodemon73 @iceclaw101 @lightningsface @shakespeareanwannabe @jasminemunson @spideysimpossiblegirl @wannabedaphne @sammus-white @jazzieomega @88dragon06 @ishabull @raquel-rial @tuquoquebrute @hotleaf-juice @dantaku @youokhoney @thisiswhyibleedsstuff @maximumkryptonitegladiator @jediknight122 @gadsgikklesen @movievillainess721 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @the-strawberrythief @spishsstuff @choppedmugjudgeplaid @haileymorelikestupid @gooddaykate @missredherring @abyssal-zone-stares-back @supernaturalgirl @winterandstars @severewobblerlightdragon @missmarmaladeth @noisynaia @saintbedelia @algressman16 @eaks0710 @mina2000alex @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @akaleelanie @mishasminion360 @amneris21 @roxypeanut @lunarcatbun 118 @frasmotic @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @lovelychaos420 @1432690 @no1pornstachefan @thegrimreaperbitch @esmeensheep @izz-ayes-world @kittycatcait219 @loveyou3000tonystark @tintinn16 @igenerallytrynottogiveagoshdarn @motheroftorches @phoenixhalliwell @the-dazzling-urbanite @coffeyorky @trickstersp8 @victorian-cherub @julissadunn @clarysthing @the-girl-that-loves-many-fandoms @mastersurf @theghostofutopia @ncsls0515 @seraphinaivy @hiyorinatsuki @ghostofaboy @yn-hamato @elfwriter1088 @sunnygrey99 @lexinicolenix @lazyemisfandomtrash @curiouskeyboard @qualityearthquakes @spider-284748 @unnecesarysstuff @sgt-morgan @love-affair-with-fandoms @lunarcatbun @kstar770 @kykymarty @supergingerlocks @hell0kittybimb0222 @a-birds-fin @loidforgerishotashell @mythical-writer @ghostshalo @avengersimaginesfan @sccialcasualty @lordecult @petalo-dropsart @i-quite-like-eating-carrots @svudetective @hasta-la-pasta-bb @manicpixiedreamgirly @destinydog @skeppycarnation @anaisweird @critters-beware @fruityforcocoapuffs @linnnniie @spideyromantic @paupeach2024 @faithxyu @fxramir @legomyeggo @jjggdfvvy @hi-my-name-is-riley @kasaikawa @lost-ghost-thats-sleepy @callmegkiddo @2dead2function @generallysleepdeprived   @failingclassesinmygucciglasses @thebeesknees42 @moonmoon007 @wi0na @cilliansangel @lostinsideourminds @angstismydrug @elvenmother @bilibiche @kettlekatie @preschoolispunk @djarinsstuff @generallysleepdeprived @love-affair-with-fandoms @jay-ghostly @wowieitbeme @fanofverymanythings @josephquinnswhore @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive @djarinsstuff @justherebecausesafarisucks @cedricbitch @rebel-soldat @madisonred88

My Masterlist!

[moldytundra]

Tinariwen - “Anemouhagh”

Tinariwen, the legendary, Grammy-winning Tuareg collective will release their new album, Amatssou, on May 19th, 2023. 

Amatssou by Tinariwen

Amatssou by Tinariwen

Amatssou by Tinariwen

Later this month, Tinariwen will embark on their first US tour since 2019, beginning on May 27th at Chicago’s Old Town School of Folk Music and including stops in Los Angeles, New York and more. A list of full dates are below and tickets are on sale now. For decades, Tinariwen have remained ambassadors for the Tuareg people, a way of life in tune with the natural world, which is under threat as never before. Throughout Amatssou — the legendary collective’s ninth studio album — Tinariwen set out to explore the shared sensibilities between their trademark desert blues and the vibrant country music of rural America. Recorded in Djanet, an oasis in the desert of southern Algeria located in Tassili N’Ajjer National Park, with additional production on two tracks by Daniel Lanois (Brian Eno, U2, Bob Dylan, Emmylou Harris, Peter Gabriel, Willie Nelson), Amatssou finds Tinariwen’s signature snaking guitar lines and hypnotic grooves seamlessly co-existing alongside banjos, fiddles and pedal steel. Though Tuareg culture is as old as that of ancient Greece or Rome, the songs of Amatssou speak to the current and often tough reality of Tuareg life today. Unsurprisingly, there are impassioned references to Mali’s ongoing political and social turmoil. Full of poetic allegory, the lyrics call for unity and freedom. There are songs of struggle and resistance with oblique references to the recent desperate political upheavals in Mali and the increasing power of the Salafists. Tinariwen’s message has never sounded more urgent and compelling than it does on Amatssou.

Tinariwen Tour Dates Sat. May 27 - Chicago, IL @ Old Town School of Folk Music Tue. May 30 - Portland, OR @ Wonder Ballroom Wed. May 31 - Seattle, WA @ Showbox Fri. June 2 - Berkeley, CA @ UC Theater Sat. June 3 - Los Angeles, CA @ Fonda Theater Mon. June 5 - New York, NY @ Webster Hall Tue. June 6 - Boston, MA @ Sinclair Wed. June 7 - Washington, DC @ Lincoln Theatre Sat. June 10 - Hilvarenbeek, NL @ Best Kept Secret Festival Mon. June 12 - Rubigen, CH @ Muhle Hunziken Wed. June 14 - Florence, IT @Ultravox Thu. June 15 - Milan, IT @ Triennale Garden Fri. June 16 - Turin, IT @ Hiroshima Mon Amour Sun. June 18 - Dublin, IE @ Body & Soul Festival Thu. June 22 - Berlin, DE @ Festsaal Kreuzberg Sat. June 24 - Glastonbury, UK @ Glastonbury Festival Mon. 26 - Lille, FR @ Splendid Wed. June 28 - Paris, FR @ Salle Pleyel Thu. June 29 - Brussels, BE @ Ancienne Belgique Sat. July 1 - Roskilde, DK @ Roskilde Festival Sun. July 2 - Stockholm, SE @ Slaktkyran Tue. July 4 - Oslo, NO @ Rockefeller Fri. July 7 - Bilbao, ES @ BBK Live Festival Tue. July 11 - Arles, FR @ Les Suds Arles Thu. July 13 - London, UK @ Somerset House Sat. July 15 - Bristol, UK @ SWX Mon. July 17 - Glasgow, UK @ St Lukes Wed. July 19 - Bermingham, UK @ Institute 2 Sat. July 22 - Cheshire, UK @ Bluedot Festival Tue. 25 - Vigo, SP @ Terraceo Festival Sat. July 29 - Luxey, FR @ Musicalarue Festival

[ofginjxints]

closed starter for @saavcns​ my date just made a scene in public and got arrested and now i’m stranded in a city without a ride home

Dani was packing up for the evening when she saw the mess of what was happening on the street opposite. She continued working but peered at opportune, she gathered there had been some kind of altercation that a cop rounded a corner to intervene. There was backup and altogether a scene that had gathered a small audience. Glad she wasn’t near enough to be involved, she finished off packing up when she saw after people had been driven away a woman left by herself looking rather lost. Grabbing a bottle of water, she locked up and walked over to her.

“Something tells me this isn’t how you planned for your night to go.” She tried to lighten the mood as she handed over the bottle.

[heythere-mel]

Mel Makes A Masterlist!

It only took a million years (I AM SO SORRY LOL) but here’s a rough outline of all my current fics, oneshots, drabbles, all the writing goods. Everything here is pretty much suitable for everyone, unless noted otherwise. 18+ regardless here though! This will be updated with better graphics and fics as I get to cleaning this up. Enjoy!! 🤍

Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales

Lovefool ch. 2 ch. 3 -ongoing series

Drunk In Love

Without You

Wake Up Call 🔥

Late

Missing Piece

Drumroll, Please

Falling For You

Closer 🔥

Fade Into You

Sleepless

Drabbles

Pure Magic

Grey Patch

How Did I Get So Lucky

Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’

Sweet Like Sugar

Marcus Moreno

Switch Positions 🔥

Marcus Pike

Cinnamon

Dave York

Partition 🔥

After Hours 🔥

Javier Peña

That’s What I Want For Christmas

The Thief

Casillero del Diablo

[todaysdocument]

Clippings from the Tulsa Tribune about the Tulsa Race Massacre, 6/5/1921. 

These come from the Red Cross report about the disaster. Find more photos, stats, and other information at the link.

Series: Central Decimal Files, 1881 - 1982

Collection: Records of the American National Red Cross, 1881 - 2008

Transcription:

TULSA TRIBUNE, JUNE 5th., 1921

[newspaper article]

Principal Negro Business Section and Church Swept by Riot Flames

[handwritten] June 5 [/handwritten]

[4 photos]

Upper left and lower right pictures: Tower of destroyed Mt. Zion Baptist church and ruins of church proper. Guardsmen declare negro snipers kept up an incessant fire from the tower until the church was fired. Other negroes with arms were barricaded in the church, whites claimed.

Upper right: East side of Greenwood avenue looking north from Archer street. This block formed the principal negro business district.

Lower left: West side of Greenwood avenue, looking north from Archer street. Third high building was the plant of the Tulsa Star, where the negroes are said to have congregated with arms just before their sally to the court house.

[page 2]

[newspaper articles]

First Fires in Wake of Fighting Were Close to Business District

[photo of fire]

[Caption: This picture shows the first series of fires which followed the rioting Tuesday night and Wednesday morning. It was taken from the top of the Daniel building shortly after the torch had been plied to the blocks of homes and business houses owned by negroes on Boston and Cincinnati avenues, north of the Frisco traiks. The arrow hangs over the spot where there was brisk fighting between the b(illegible) and whites, in the vicinity of the Frisco depot. The first place to be burned was here. White forces applied the torch to a house in which a number of negroes were barricaded. Several negroes were reported shot as rushed from this house.

'GIVE AT ONCE' AVERY'S PLEA TO SAVE CITY

FUND TOTAL IS LESS THAN $3,000; SIX FIGURES NEEDED

Approximately $9,000 had been turned into the coffers of the Public Welfare Fund for relief and reconstruction among sufferers in the burned area at the last accounting yesterday. Subscriptions were not being received in the number which the board must receive them if the immense work of feeding and housing several thousand homeless negroes is to go on unhampered, Cyrus S. Avery, treasurer of the board, declared.

"We can only apply to every citizen to make a generous subscription without delay," said Mr. Avery last night. "These funds are not needed for any sentimental purpose or for pampering or favoring anybody. They are absolutely necessary for buying food and shelter and plain necessities of life for about 5,000 negroes now ch(illegible)ges on this city.

"The Public Welfare Board has not yet defintely outlined its policy of finance and contribution payments, but there is no doubt about the money being needed badly in large amounts for temporary relief alone. And whatever plan is adopted. We shall have to have not hundreds of dollars but hundreds of thousands of dollars before this restoration work is complete, even in the most primary sense. All donations are carefully recorded, and if there should be any surplus, the amount will be prorated and returned. But at present there is only one thought in front of us--get the job done that is right before (illegible) and pay for it."

Avery stated that about 500 negroes still are camping in the concentration center at the free fair grounds, where meals are now being prepared under their own direction. Scores of colored folks are back in their own neighborhood living in tents, however, for the Red Cross erected a tent city near the Booker T. Washington school late yesterday to afford housing and relieve the congestion at the fairgrounds.

4 MORE BLACKS DEAD, TOTAL OF KNOWN DEAD 31

TWO BODIES ARE RECOVERED IN RUINS OF BUILDINGS ON GREENWOOD AV.

Late last night Major Paul R. Brown forwarded a formal report to Brig. Gen. Barrett at Oklahoma City fixing the total number of dead at 36, 10 whites and 26 negroes. The report lists as slightly wounded, 63 whites, 166 negroes; severely wounded 16 whites, 72 negroes.

These figures fixing the total number of dead are at variance with the death list compiled by The Tribune as shown in the following story.

The known death list of race riot victims was increased to 31 yesterday with the uncovering of the charred remains of two negroes in the ruins of the business buildings on North Greenwood avenue.

Ten white men and boys lost their lives in the riot and the most accurate list of negro dead obtainable until today was 18. Fifteen of these bodies were taken to the Stanley-McCune and three to Mowbray's morgue. Mowbrays reported last night that four negroes had been burried by them and that today the body of another negro was brought in burned beyond recognition. Another body similarly burned was taken to Stanley-McCunes. None of the negro undertakers have opened their establishments since Tuesday night when the riot broke.

With the discovery of these two bodies city authorities considered it highly probable that the bodies of other victims might be discovered in the ruins of the negro hotels and business buildings.

11 Whites in Hospitals

A negro named George Hawkins dies at the Cinnabar hospital Saturday but it was said there there he was brought here unconscious from Red Fork and died from natural causes and not from injuries or wounds received in the riot.

Eleven white persons injured in the riot, are still being taken care of in the local hospitals. Mrs. S. A. Gilmore, 225 E. King St., is the most seriously injured. She was shot several times in the arm and side. The others are in a less serious condition.

At the Cinnabar hospital 47 negroes were being taken care of last night nearly all of whom were wounded in the riot. About half of these are considered to be in a serious condition. Friday 72 negroes were being taken care of there but a number were discharged and others went to the homes of their friends and relatives.

ALL TRAINS OUT OF CITY JAMMED WITH REFUGEES

HUNDREDS OF NEGROES BUY ONE-WAY TICKETS OUT OF TULSA AGENTS SAY

A general exodus of negroes from the city has taken place since the rioting ceased Wednesday. All local passenger stations have bene crowded with negroes buying one-way tickets out of the city. An approximate estimate was made last night that between 1,000 and 1,500 of them have left in the last three days.

They have been purchasing tickets for every city from New York to San Francisco at the Frisco and Santa Fe offices, railway officials announced. The Katy and Midland Valley offices have sold a (illegible) number of tickets for Musk(illegible) and McAlester. Guthrie also has been a favorite among those who have decided to leave Tulsa.

More than five times as many negroes have left Tulsa in the last four days than at nay other one period in the history of the city, the information clerk at the Frisco station said.

However all of the negroes who left Tulsa did not leave by way of the railway stations as has been indicated by reports from surrounding towns of hundreds of blacks fleeing in all directions. The general exodus really began Tuesday night and became more spirited the faster the bullets flew Wednesday morning.

Last night when the last Midland Valley train left for Muskogee negroes were fairly handing out of the windows. Cars reserved for negroes were jammed to the platforms.

[page 2]

TULSA TRIBUNE, JUNE 5th., 1921

[newspaper article]

Principal Negro Business Section and Church Swept by Riot Flames

[handwritten] June 5 [/handwritten]

[4 photos]

Upper left and lower right pictures: Tower of destroyed Mt. Zion Baptist church and ruins of church proper. Guardsmen declare negro snipers kept up an incessant fire from the tower until the church was fired. Other negroes with arms were barricaded in the church, whites claimed.

Upper right: East side of Greenwood avenue looking north from Archer street. This block formed the principal negro business district.

Lower left: West side of Greenwood avenue, looking north from Archer street. Third high building was the plant of the Tulsa Star, where the negroes are said to have congregated with arms just before their sally to the court house.

[hopeamarsu]

Stardust Reblog Challenge - Masterlist

* = bingo item

Link to my Bingo Card

September + October under the cut

September

God is a Woman - Max Phillips x f!reader by whereisarizona

All in Favor of You - Poe Dameron x f!reader by princessxkenobi *

Pero on his knees - Pero Tovar x f!reader by pedrito-friskito

Celebrating together - Frankie Morales x reader x Benny Miller by wardenparker *

Wild Abandon - Ezra (Prospect) x f!reader by starlightmornings

Formula 101 - Javi Gutierrez x f!reader by littlemisspascal

More than a job - Din Djarin x f!reader by flightlessangelwings

Dreaming of Chandeliers - Frankie Morales x reader by psychedelic-ink

King Arthur having a crush - King Arthur x reader by witchthewriter

Unforgettable Night - Dieter Bravo x f!reader by absurdthirst

Rosebud - Oberyn Martell x blind!TyrellOFC by of-house-atreides *

Oblivious - Frankie Morales x f!reader by guess-my-next-obsession

Hope - Dave York x blind!OFC by whataperfectwasteoftime *

Looking part 1 - Joel Miller x reader by whereisarizona

Necessary Arrangements ch 3 - Will Miller x f!reader by wardenparker

Necessary Arrangements ch 4 - Will Miller x f!reader by wardenparker

Paloma part 1 - Frankie Morales x f!reader, Jack Daniels x f!reader by just-here-for-the-moment

Paloma part 2 - Frankie Morales x f!reader, Jack Daniels x f!reader by just-here-for-the-moment

Sink - Steven Grant x gn!reader by luvpedropascal

Observation Period - Jack Whiskey Daniels x f!reader by the-blind-assassin-12 *

More than a job part 2 - Din Djarin x f!reader by flightlessangelwings

A Single Step - Din Djarin x f!reader by sprout-fics *

Even if it's a lie ch 8 - Javier Pena, Connie Murphy by beecastle

5 steps forward - Marcus Moreno x OFC by radiowallet

Open Door Policy - Jack Whiskey Daniels x f!reader by hardc0rehaylz

Smoke Signals - Din Djarin x f!reader by thesealard

Formula 101 - Prologue part 2: October - Javi Gutierrez x f!reader/OFC by littlemisspascal

Love in the time of Covid ch 1 - Frankie Morales x f!reader by guess-my-next-obsession

In Your Hands - Marcus Pike x f!reader by psychedelic-ink

Caught Out - Frankie Morales x f!reader by foli-vora

Patched Up - Will Miller x f!reader by youvebeenlivingfictional

Puppy dog eyes - Javier Pena x f!reader by whereisarizona

Night Release - Frankie Morales x f!reader by deadhumourist

For Him - Marcus Pike x gn!reader by foli-vora

Only Room In The Inn - Pero Tovar x f!reader by absurdthirst

You, Me & Mexico - Jack Whiskey Daniels x f!reader by wardenparker

I find myself in pieces - Javier Pena x reader by beecastle

Blooming Passion - Javier Pena x f!reader by absurdthirst

SingleDad!Kylo - Kylo Ren x reader by daydreamsofren

Kylo Ren as Captain Hook - Kylo Ren x f!reader as pixie by leatherboundbirate

Good Day - Zach Wellison x f!reader by yespolkadotkitty

Rain, blanket, kitten - Jax Teller x reader by withmyteeth

New Assignment (part 2) - Kylo Ren x f!reader by daydreamsofren

Chance or fate - Pedro Pascal Character x f!reader by absurdthirst

October

Hands to Myself - Din Djarin x f!reader by queenofthefaceless

We Begin With the Fool - Oberyn Martell x f!reader by oonajaeadira

Mailroom Crush part 8 - Javier Pena x f!reader by littlemisspascal

Spinning on that Dizzy Edge - Benny Miller x f!reader by dameronscopilot

This wasn't supposed to happen - Frankie Morales x f!reader by beecastle

Day 1: Whimpering - Marcus Moreno, Miracle Guy by novemberrain221

Love In the Time of Covid part 2 and part 3 - Frankie Morales x f!reader by guess-my-next-obsession

Pero courting with dagger - Pero Tovar x f!reader by oonajaeadira

First Time - Oberyn Martell x f!reader by autumnleaves1991-blog

69 - Marcus Moreno x f!reader by moralesispunk

Winktober: 69 - Javier Pena x reader by oonajaeadira

Kinktober day 1 - Merlin (Kingsman) x reader by clydesducktape

Captain and the Siren - Will Miller x wife!reader by rayslittlekitten

Day 2: Cornered - Din Djarin by novemberrain221

Dirty Talk - Marc Spector x f!reader by flightlessangelwings

Dirty Talk - Marcus Pike x f!reader by jazzelsaur

Gagging - Maxwell Lord x wife!reader by toomanystoriestoolittletime *

Wild Abandon part 6 - Ezra x f!reader by starlightmornings

A/B/O - Alpha!Frankie Morales x Omega!reader by clydesducktape

Winktober: A/B/O - Joel Miller x reader by oonajaeadira

Floor Sex - Benny Miller x f!reader by flightlessangelwings

Dead End - Poe Dameron x reader by a-reader-and-a-writer

Thigh Riding - Frankie Morales x f!reader by autumnleaves1991-blog

A Night With Monsters - Triple Frontier Monster AU by clydesducktape

Confrontation - Javier Pena by beecastle

Spooktacular: Addams Family - Frankie Morales x f!reader by guess-my-next-obsession

Glove Kink - Hannibal!Kylo Ren x reader by clydesducktape

Dirty Talk - King Arthur x wife!reader by autumnleaves1991-blog

Impaled - Ezra by novemberrain221

Threesome - Marcus Pike x f!reader x Javi Gutierrez by absurdthirst

Winktober: Anal - Din Djarin x reader by oonajaeadira

Cabin in the Woods - Frankie Morales x f!reader by guess-my-next-obsession

[spacecasewriter13]

When the Lights Go On Again by @spacecasewriter13

Summary: It is May of 1946, over a year after his fall from the Hydra train and losing his left arm, and James "Bucky" Barnes is struggling to adjust. Working as an analyst at the New York City SSR branch, Bucky tries to put the war and all of its sorted memories behind him. However, try as he might he is plagued by thoughts of Magdalene "Maggie" Ramirez, a Women's Army Corps (WAC) Corporal he met in London and hasn't spoken to since before his fall in January of 1945. Little does he know that Maggie, in her struggle to put the war behind her, has moved to the city and looking for a job with the New York Bell Telephone Company as a switchboard operator. Now, by sheer dumb luck, they are reunited as they both fight come to terms with what they were to one another during the war, and work to figure out how to move forward in a world that was unprepared to deal with the consequences of war in the unsteady peace.

Ch 6: Wish I didn’t Love You So

Summary:

Bucky and Maggie meet and have a discussion with unintended consequences.

Excerpt:

"You have someone back home waiting for you, Barnes?" Shelby Hunt asked, his voice low as they huddled in the fox hole they were occupying.

"No." He answered, though his thoughts betrayed him as he conjured the image of that girl—the WAC who'd had breakfast with him that last morning before they'd received their orders to move up. "Maybe it's better that way. Would hate to worry a dame like that. How does your girl do it?"

"She gets along all right. Keeps busy. It's my mother that's the worrier. My Marlene is about as steady as they come, but she's one in a million." Hunt grinned. It was dark. So dark that you couldn't see damn near five feet in front of you, except for the Muzzle flash that occasionally lit up the night. Yet, Bucky could still hear the huge smile on his fellow soldier's face.

"You're a lucky man," He said.

"Oh. Don't sound so glum, Barnes. You'll find a girl." Hunt laughed, his voice like a hearty slap on the shoulder.

His laugh was cut short by the sound of gunfire—no, something bigger than that.

"Panther?" Bucky asked.

"No. It sounds wrong." Hunt shook his head before the sound of gunfire, and the whistle of incoming projectiles cut him off.

All at once, Bucky Blinked. Then blinked again.

He was back. In a bed, stateside. He was sitting in bed, with a notebook on his lap, staring at a blank page he intended to turn into a letter home to his mother and sister.

'September 20, 1945' and 'Dear mother and Becca' was all he'd managed and was now blanking on what else to write.

What else was there to say? Food is shit, and I'm still missing my arm? That was hardly the type of letter the Barnes women deserved. Yet, even he knew there were only so many variations of 'still practicing with my hook, still don't know when they'll let me out of the ward' that he could justify writing.

He capped the pen and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He was thinking about Hunt, about being captured by Hydra, about her again, none of which would make good reading for his sister and mother and definitely wouldn't make good dinner conversation at the mess later tonight. Yet still, they were with him when they were least expected, and least wanted.

"You ever gonna finish that letter, Barnes?" A voice called, accompanied by the rattle of an aluminum crutch.

Bucky looked up to see Daniel Sousa limping toward him, his bag over his shoulder, a package and bundle of letters in his right hand, his left hand and arm leaning on a crutch. "You missed mail call." He continued without prompting.

"You're back from furlough, and the first thing you do is show up in time for mail call?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Good to see you too, Barnes." Sousa laughed as he made it to his bed and dumped his bag on the bed before retrieving a bundle of letters and a package from within the bag. "You miss me while I was gone?"

"Those all yours?" Bucky asked, motioning to the bundle of letters with his chin.

"Arrived while I was at home." He explained. Repositioning his crutches, he turned back to him, hooking the package by the twine with his middle and index fingers, and started over toward him.

"How many?" Bucky asked.

"Six—no, no. Seven, I think."

"Christ." Bucky shook his head. "From your sisters? What the hell do they write to you about?"

"Oh. you know, this and that." Sousa shrugged, squaring with the foot of the bed. "But what I was getting to. This came for you from a…uhhh…Miss Rebecca Barnes." He said, reading the label on the brown paper box wrapped with twine before he set it down on the blanket folded at the end of his bed.

"Thank you, Sousa," Bucky said, setting his writing materials on his side table, and reached forward to snag the package with his pointer finger.

"Yeah. No problem." Sousa replied as he returned to his bunk and, with a grimace, gingerly massaged his left thigh as he sunk down on the mattress.

"Blisters?" Bucky asked without looking up as he fussed with the twine.

"Sore. Lots of walking today." Sousa shrugged.

"How was it?" Bucky continued quietly.

"It was swell. Nice to see the family. Get the hell out of the ward for a bit. When they going to send you for your furlough? You're overdue one, aren't you?"

"That I couldn't say." He shrugged. "Not sure how Ma' and Bec would handle that. Bec's working constantly, and Ma—well, she keeps busy."

"You'll get your time. Anyway, better to get any unpleasantness out of the way before you're home for good."

"I take it you got your unpleasantness out of the way then?"

"Pai and the girls were all great. Extended family, neighbors, old girlfriends, and acquaintances were predictably less predictable, hell of a lot more stairs at home than I remember, but nothing permanently scarring." Sousa answered casually. "Passed a few of the fellas on the way in. Think we're going to drum up a poker game, you in?" Not so casually changing the subject.

Never one to push the issue, Bucky obliged with a grin. "What you blow your wad while you were at home? Didn't think you'd have to start back with the poker hustle so soon or that there was anyone left to swindle out of their life savings, for that matter," Bucky said wryly, pulling away the twine and removing the brown paper to reveal the contents within. "Or have you suddenly grown a conscience when it comes to highway robbery at the poker table?"

Sousa snorted, shaking his head. "I resent the insinuation I'm capable of swindling willing participants," Sousa shot back as he opened the first envelope and removed three pages

"Christ, Sousa. Are they double-sided?"

"No." Sousa shook his head, "They're from my youngest sister. We lost our brother this time last year. She's taking it hard." He said, his expression dark as he surveyed the pages he was holding, a rare cloud of despair drawing in around him.

"I'm sorry."

"It is what it is," he answered with a light shrug, and just like that, the clouds had dissipated again. "What about you? What did your kid sister send you?"

"Books."

"Anything good?"

"A few of my favorite Verne novels," he said as he removed From the Earth to the Moon from the stack, "oh and an update from them," Bucky added as he withdrew an envelope from the pages of the novel. "Though, definitely not three pages."

"And you still haven't written to that dame you met over there, have you?" Sousa commented.

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