#dog in an Adirondack chair

[sayhowdycountrycritters]

Atlas is ready to get the bonfire party started.

[newlyy]

Notes on a vacation 🌊⛱️

[zith-ipeth]

Chrysocyon

I howled with a boy last night, under the stars at college, he said first that he was scared to be loud, but he was simply scared of how people would perceive him being loud, we sat on old adirondack chairs over looking the pond, and I howled at the sky, he looked at me in awe, a woman so loud, not scared of the world, I said that if he howled I would be there too, two tones at once, but before I could even ask if he wanted that, he howled deep and loud into the sky, we did this, together.

Afterward he was full of adrenaline, I was too, we ran around deep at night, streetlights providing the light the shy moon could not.

We sat by the bell tower, on fours, and talked, he kicked a pine cone my way and I picked it up with my teeth, and set it by him. He told me somthing about love, somthing I lost in the chill of the wind.

Sometime were going to church point, to howl again, to see if the dogs on the other side of the river would howl back

Language cannot describe the experience of therianthropy, all it does is muddle it

That night I figured out what its definition was

It’s stories and poetry and love

Run fast, bite hard, bark loud

Peace, love, and gratitude

-Zith Ipeth

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: a little summery skjei family fic 🥰 nothing too crazy to talk about, but i’ve been having fun fleshing out all the little families and you’ll see the twins’ births at some point bc i had a fun idea for that! enjoy!

word count: 2k

tw: none

summary: it’s the first summer weekend in lakeville and brady just wants to grill, of course something always goes wrong

“Brady, I’m going to give the twins a bath,” you shout out, the wiggling almost one year olds trying their best to escape your grip. “Daph’s in the playroom.”

Your husband pokes his head back inside, grill tongs in one hand and a meat thermometer in the other. “Bath before dinner?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at the deviation from the usual schedule. You’ve been insistent on keeping the twins on a schedule, arguing it’s the only way to keep a little order in their first year of life. So the deviation is unusual.

Instead of answering, you turn so he can see the twins, completely covered in cocoa powder. They look like little Cockney chimney sweeps and Brady’s jaw drops slightly before he lets out a loud, unrestrained laugh.

“Bath before dinner,” you confirm wryly. You shift Millie up on your hip, heart lurching when she lunges for Brady with a cry of “Dada!” as if he’ll save her from her bath time fate. Easton’s more accepting of his fate, but he’s rubbing at the cocoa powder on his face and arms, getting you all dusty too. He grumbles when he licks at his fingers and realizes that the cocoa powder isn’t as tasty as actual chocolate.

“Definitely a good reason for the schedule change, sweetheart,” Brady grins, saluting you with the tongs. “I’ll keep an ear out for Daph.”

“I’ve got Bluey on in there,” you comment, tightening your hold on Millie as she fights you, legs kicking. “She should be good, but just so you’re aware.”

He nods and you traipse up the stairs, ready to do bath time battle with the twins.

Brady returns to the grill, the back door open so he can hear the faint sounds of Bluey and Daphne if she calls for him. It’s a gorgeous July night in Lakeville and you’re finally settled into summer mode after making the trek up from Raleigh. Brady’s been dying to get the new grill fired up, ready to start a summer of steaks and backyard get togethers with his family and your rotating crowd of guests. Unfortunately, it’s rained every day for the past week, making the entire Skjei household restless.

You’d given up yesterday, letting the three kids run wild around the backyard in the rain with the dogs. The mug and grass that had been tracked into the house was disgusting, but the big smiles on all the kids’ faces had been worth it.

Brady’s the last Skjei standing who hasn’t gotten to start his Minnesota summer checklist. You’d told him that he could grill in the rain if he really wanted to, but he’d complained that the first grill of the summer needs to be in sunny conditions.

Finally, thankfully, and just in time to save your marriage, the sun emerged on your fourth day in Lakeville and Brady had immediately packed up the kids to take them to the grocery store. They’d returned with steaks, a ton of veggies to grill, and of course, the makings of ice cream sundaes.

Seeing him so excited about the first summer grill had you excited too and you’d gotten ambitious, planning on making brownies from scratch for the sundaes. Of course, that’s when the Hurricane Twins got into everything and made a mess.

Brady’s happily humming to himself, settled on an Adirondack chair while he waits for the asparagus, onions, zucchini, and eggplant to grill. It’s the Fourth tomorrow, so he’s glad he got a chance to break in the grill before the big test, when you’re having the entire Skjei family over for a barbecue before heading down to the lake to watch the fireworks. The backyard is tidied up with all the kids’ toys organized and the tennis balls kicked into the designated dog toy bucket.

Speaking of the dogs, they’re both rolling around in the grass and are definitely going to need to be hosed down before being let back inside. Brady makes a mental note to handle that after dinner.

He gets the vegetables off the grill and into a disposable aluminum tray, covering them with tin foil to keep them warm while the steaks get carefully arranged on the grill with a satisfying sizzle. Brady grins at the immediate smell of cooking meat, flipping the lid of the grill down and tossing a stray tennis ball for Reese and Sully to chase.

It’s suburban quiet, the soft sounds of the neighbors in their own yards and the few cars going up and down the street providing a soundtrack to the July night.

Brady gets up and heads to the back door again, calling for Daphne. “Daph, baby, why don’t you come join me and the puppies?” He calls, making his way through the kitchen and into the playroom. It’s a mess, predictably, and Daphne is starfished on a fuzzy floor cushion, watching Bluey with slightly glazed over eyes. Her little bike shorts and Disney Princess shirt combo is covered in grass stains and a ketchup splotch from lunch. Brady grins at the sight of her, looking exactly like you when you’re exhausted and zoning out to a show.

He laughs and draws her attention. “Oh! Hi, Daddy,” she chirps. “Wanna watch Bluey me?”

Squatting down to ruffle her dark hair, Brady shakes his head. “I wish I could watch Bluey with you, but I have to finish making dinner. Do you want to come outside with me?” He asks, even as her attention is drawn back to the cartoon.

“No fank you, Daddy,” she replies absently, one bare foot kicking out in a stretch and clipping Brady’s knee. She lets her heel rest on his leg, wiggling her toes to the Bluey theme song. Brady laughs and pinches at her toes briefly before setting her foot back on the floor and standing up.

“You know where to find me if you need something, okay, Duck?”

“Mhm,” she hums in response, essentially dismissing Brady back to the yard.

“At least she’s polite,” he mutters to himself, heading back outside to the grill. He can hear the sounds of bath time upstairs, splashing punctuated by your shout of “Oh my god, Eastie! Don’t eat soap!”

With a wince and a silent thank you that he’s not in charge of bath time tonight, Brady slips back outside to man the grill. The back door shuts just slightly behind him.

The steaks are perfect, just a few minutes later and Brady loads them into the other disposable tray, ready to let them sit inside before cutting them up. He thinks about whistling for the dogs, to warn them not to follow him inside, but since they’re peacefully splayed out on the lawn, Brady figures it’s okay to try and sneak inside.

The door is fully shut when he reaches it, both disposable trays held on one arm. Brow furrowed, Brady tries the handle and mutters a curse under his breath when it doesn’t give.

Locked.

He leans his forehead against the glass pane, spotting Daphne right next to the door, one foot perched on the inside of her other knee, little fingers playing with PlayDoh on the countertop. Where the hell did she find PlayDoh?

It doesn’t matter, Brady shakes his head and knocks on the door. The sudden sound startles Daphne and she looks up, wide-eyed.

Brady smiles, just a little nervously, “hey, Daph. Baby, can you open the door for Daddy?”

She looks from his face to the door’s hardware as if it’s the first time she’s seeing it. Which is impossible, since she’s definitely the one who had to have flipped the lock to lock him out.

“How?” She asks, scrunching her fingers around the hot pink dough. Little pieces of it fall to the floor and Brady knows you’re going to flip when you see the mess. Especially when Daphne puts her foot down and steps right into it. He winces.

“See the lock, the gold piece,” he tries to point as best as he can with the glass in the way. “Flip that back the opposite way you did before.”

Daphne’s eyebrows scrunch together and her nose wrinkles. “I don’t know how!” She cries, starting to look nervous. “I didn’t do it!”

Brady sucks in a calming breath. The trays are hot against his forearm. “Okay, it’s okay. Can you go get Mommy and tell her I’m locked out?”

“Mommy’s with the babies,” Daphne shakes her head.

“I know,” Brady replies, shifting the pans on his arm. “It’s okay, go get Mommy. Or unlock the door, Daph.”

“I don’t know how!” She cries again and runs off, leaving Brady to thunk his head against the glass with a groan.

He puts the trays down on the table so his arm doesn’t burn and remembers that his phone is in the pocket of his shorts. He jabs at your contact information in the recent calls section and presses speakerphone, waiting for you to pick up.

Until he sees your phone on the kitchen island, vibrating across the counter.

“Fuuuuck,” Brady groans, ending the call and dialing the landline. He can hear it ring through the back door and when the line picks up, the squeaky little voice is too familiar.

“It’s Daphne, who calling?”

Brady barely manages to contain his groan. “Daph, honey, please put Mommy on the phone,” he says, making another mental note to have another conversation with Daphne about not answering the phone.

“Daddy!” She yelps delightedly. “How come on the phone?”

“Daddy’s stuck outside, remember?” He can’t help but laugh at the insanity of the situation. Through the glass, he can see Daphne skipping through the kitchen and disappear up the stairs while she chatters in his ear about nothing.

Brady leans against the side of the house, embracing the fact that he’s stuck outside and enjoying listening to Daphne chatter away. The next voice he hears is beyond welcome.

“Hello?”

“Sweetheart, oh thank god,” Brady breathes a laugh.

“Brady? Why are you on the phone?” Splashing and giggling echo down the line. “Mills, honey, please don’t splash Mommy.”

“Daph locked me out,” he replies, nearly drowned out by Millie’s shriek in the background.

You sound distracted when you ask, “she what?”

“Locked me out,” he confirms. “And couldn’t figure out how to unlock the door.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh, voice getting distant when you say, “Daffy duck, did you lock Daddy outside?”

Brady can hear Daphne’s high pitched giggle and a smile subconsciously turns his lips upward. “Can you come down and let me in? Dinner’s going to get cold.”

“I have two soaped up toddlers,” you scoff. “Settle that cute butt of yours in a chair and get comfy, Mr. Skjei. I need at least fifteen minutes to finish up here and get them dressed.”

“Mommy, Eastie’s throwin’ toys,” Daphne pipes up in the background and Brady hears you sigh before you end the call.

Brady tucks the phone back in his pocket and takes your advice, getting settled in the Adirondack chair again, whistling for the dogs to play fetch. Twenty minutes later, he hears the back door open and he turns his head to see your smiling face, Easton clinging to your neck, his hair damp and curling slightly around his ears.

“We’re teaching her how to unlock doors asap,” you giggle, stepping to the side so Brady can come inside with the disposable trays. He ruffles Easton’s hair and kisses the toddler’s forehead as he passes.

“I still can’t believe she did that,” Brady shakes his head, getting the steaks on a cutting board so he can start slicing. You move around the kitchen to set the table, Easton still clinging to your side. His little face is buried in your neck, one hand curled into the neck of your shirt.

“I guess she sees us do it?” You shrug and sneak behind Brady to snag a fatty piece of steak off the cutting board. You hum happily. “Grilled to perfection, as usual.”

Brady laughs and turns his head to kiss your cheek. “Let the Lakeville summer officially begin,” he proclaims dramatically, getting a laugh out of Easton.

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags - Part 2:

Hello, I Love You

AN: FYI... I cried at the likes, reblogs, and comments you all left. I didn't expect that at all! Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

A lot more of Sadie came out in this one than I expected.

______________________________________________________________

❗️18+, strong language, sexual themes, Jake being Jake, godmother reader/original female character, Original child character.

#3K Words

Part 1 | Masterlist | Part 3

Finding sunlight never seemed to be an issue in California.

Penny asked if you could open the bar on your day off while she ran a few errands with Amelia. After dropping Sadie off at her tutoring lesson, you had time to spare, and the beach was the perfect place to read until your shift started. 

Penny had set up a pair of Adirondack chairs under an umbrella just off the back deck of the Hard Deck. It was your favourite place to go on breaks or when you arrived early, such as today. Rummaging in your bag, you pulled out your book, eyes fixated on the cover. 

Pride and Prejudice was the go-to for Ridley and you. Whenever one of you had a bad day or couldn’t sleep, you’d huddle together on the couch and put it on the TV. You attempted to show it to Sadie last year. While she was too young to appreciate it then, she loved that all the best camera angles seemed to focus on Elizabeth Bennet, especially when she stood on that cliffside.

It had been a promise between sisters you’d read the book together, having purchased your copy the week before her death. While you couldn’t bring yourself to watch the movie again just yet, you felt you owed it to her to read the book. 

The world belonging to Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet was far more intriguing than your own. It wasn’t till you came to a part of the book that lulled, did you looked up to see an infamous game of Dogfight Football taking place on the shore. You spied a few of the Daggers mixed in with the newer Top Gun pilots. Rooster wouldn’t be there. He was running a few errands for you before picking up Sadie.  

You smiled wholeheartedly, seeing Bob lose it over at what you supposed was a touchdown. Mav attempted to explain the game to you once upon a time, something about running offence and defence simultaneously. Any explanation left you even more confused than you were before. 

Phoenix started the game again, shouting at Coyote to be open for her incoming throw. Bob lined up in front of a blonde pilot you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t until Bob shouted at him for faking a throw did you realize you were ogling at the newly returned Dagger your friends warned you about. 

For just a moment, you understood why the bartenders before you gave in. Hangman was every girl’s hot dream come to life. The million-dollar smile. Muscles for days. A face you were sure would be perfectly symmetrical if you took a ruler to it. 

Yet, you could only focus on those damn dog tags swaying in space above his sternum—that little divet, which led down between his perfectly sculpted abs. The part of your brain with no impulse control picturing everything you could do to that divet. 

The other part reeled you in, shouting ‘in your dreams’ and ‘he’d leave you out to dry too.’ 

Startled by the alarm on your phone, you forced yourself to peel your eyes away, close your book and make your way up the back steps to open the bar. 

Ridley’s jean jacket protected you from a strong gust of wind blowing up sand as you unlocked the door. You remembered when she found it in that thrift store, losing it over the David Bowie-inspired patch on the back. It was one of the many belongings you brought from her townhouse, the rest tucked away in storage to be dealt with another day. You always made sure the first song playing on the Jukebox when you opened was something by Bowie. 

A few people trickled in from the beach once they realized the bar was open, and you did your best to handle the intake until Jimmy could relieve you of the pressure. 

A keg was giving you issues, your back facing the busier part of the bar as you crouched down to adjust a loose nozzle. 

“What’s it like being the most beautiful girl in this bar?”

Yes, Hangman was perfect on the eyes. Then he had to ruin it by opening his mouth.

You stood up, keeping your back turned, “What’s it like being the biggest liar in the world?” 

“Not a liar if it's true.” 

You turned to face him, a hand on your hip. “Does that work on all the unfortunate girls who stumble into your path, Hangman?” 

“I see my reputation precedes me.”  

A man with charm was a dangerous thing. And Hangman was indeed that man. Sitting at your bar, arms perched, the most Mona Lisa smile you’ve ever seen gracing his face. 

“Nobody,” you said, “could be so forward and expect to get away with it.” 

“What do you say about tonight? Your place or mine?” That cocky smirk was begging to be wiped off his face. 

You kept yourself busy, trying to avoid looking at his eyes as much as possible. You weren’t expecting them to be so green. 

“I have a date with a bug and some friends.” The urge to clean something with the rag on your shoulder was getting harder to ignore. You needed to do something with your hands. 

“Ditch them.” 

That made you look up, staring blankly at him, “Your friends must call you an asshole if that’s how you’d treat them.” 

A toothpick had somehow now made its way between his teeth. You weren't sure whether you wanted to pull it out of his mouth or stare at what he was doing with it. You made a note to hide the small canister under the bar the next time he showed up.

“One of the nicest assholes you could ever hope to meet.”  

You rolled your eyes. “I have a list with your name in the girl's bathroom that says otherwise.”  

“For a good time, call Hangman?” This guy didn’t know when to quit. 

You snorted, “Hardly.” 

“Come on, do you think that poorly of me? Let Hangman show you a good time.”

It was your turn to smirk. You leaned against the bar, resting your elbows on the space before him, tipping forward just enough to intrude upon his personal space. 

“You want to know what I think?” His eyes dropped to your lips. 

“I think you’ve mastered the art of your southern Texas charm,” You took the rag from your shoulder and started to wipe at part of the bar between his arms. 

“A handsome naval pilot,” keeping your eyes down, you continued, “a few pretty verses with just enough of that southern accent, making even the shyest of women hope to drop their pants for a promise of a good time.” 

 His voice was low as he spoke, “Here I am. Just say the word.” 

You couldn’t believe this guy. Any thought you had entertained of inviting him tonight or in the future vanished. Bradley and Natasha were right. He did flirt with anything within a five-mile radius.

“What else can you offer someone other than the promise of a good time, Hangman?” You pushed yourself away from him, reaching for a misplaced whiskey glass. “After all, why did all of Penny’s previous bartenders quit after being around you?” 

You reached for the bottle of sanitizer, spraying your rag. “Do you see women as a means to an end? Wham, Bam, thank you, mam? Or is the thought of forming something deeper with someone just too damn hard?” 

His mouth gaped open. 

You put your back to him as you finished, “I’m not the type of girl guys like you go to for one-night stands. Considering you won’t tell me your real name and assuming I’d ditch my friends for a guy.” 

No matter how you said it, the slight bitterness was there. “Go leave some other girl hanging, Hangman.” 

You waited a moment, gathering the courage to turn around to ask if he wanted something from the bar before a voice caught your attention.  

“Liz!” Bradley shouted, Sadie trailing on his heels with her backpack dragging behind her. 

“Hey, Bradley,” You smiled at him before looking down at Sadie, her eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. Her morning couldn’t have gone any more wrong. 

“How was tutoring, Sweetheart?” 

“Mr. Turner was mean to me again.” You frowned. 

“The numbers don’t make sense. I try to ask questions, but he either makes it more confusing or refuses to answer and tells me to figure it out myself.” 

“He doesn’t know how you learn, Bug. You’ll get it.” Rooster attempting to offer encouraging words. 

The Math Makes Sense textbooks she brought home were anything but. The pair of you spending nights tearing your hair out at the kitchen table over the most obscure questions. Amelia tried, but she had a preference for English. 

“Elizabeth,” Hangman realized, looking slightly shocked. “Penny mentioned you.”

You smiled, mocking his words before, “I see my reputation precedes me.” 

He looked down at Sadie, who firmly attached herself to Rooster’s hand, “Then you must be Sadie.” 

She narrowed her eyes, “Or Bug, that’s what they call me,” rocking her hand in Bradley’s. 

You grimaced as he raised his eyebrow, clearly figuring out Sadie was the Bug and the Daggers, the friends you were referring to. 

“Hangman.” 

“Rooster.” 

“What, they finally kicked you out of Texas?”

“Someone has to be around to save your as.. butt,” his eyes dropped to Sadie with a slight wince. 

She rolled her eyes with as much dramatic flare as a ten-year-old could muster. 

“I’m ten. I’ve heard worse,” she mumbled before climbing onto one of the bar stools and pulling her homework out of her bag. You couldn’t refute her; the swear jar in your kitchen was evidence enough. Its presence reminding the Daggers a ten-year-old was in their company.                                                                                 

“Nice,” Rooster pointed to Sadie. “I knew you were an idiot, but this just proved it.” 

Clearly, Hangman saving his life did nothing to change Rooster's attitude towards this teammate. 

You were thankful the sound of glass hitting the floor pulled you away from whatever was happening between the two, a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ to Sadie and a strict glare at Bradley before you walked over to a group of newer Top Gun pilots trying to clean up the mess. 

“You think you can handle this guy for a few minutes? I gotta run a few errands,” Rooster jerking his thumb towards Hangman. 

Sadie looked him over before sarcastically glaring back at Rooster. “You're joking, right?” 

Rooster smiled, roughing up her hair, before turning to leave. 

“Bye, Bug.” He shouted over his shoulder. 

She didn’t even look up, too focused on the cover of her textbook, when she called out, “Bye, Uncle Roo.” 

Sadie took a deep breath before finding the page she had been working on with her tutor in her textbook. The man didn’t know how to explain anything, let alone math. She tried hard to understand what he was saying, but the comments about how he’d expect this from a kid being raised by a single woman were annoying. 

She knew you and her mom would want her to bite her tongue. But she'd never own up to it if her foot accidentally strayed too far to hit his shin. 

It was a few seconds before she flipped her pencil, harshly erasing the page, before throwing her forehead down onto the bar with a thump in defeat. 

With an amused look from the pilot sitting beside her and a slight chuckle at her antics, he asked, “That bad?” 

She looked up at him, head resting on crossed arms over her textbook. “My tutor is a total idiot.” 

“Oh really?” 

“I know I don’t understand this stuff, but I would expect a math tutor would.” She felt hopeless. A few teachers at her new school wanted her to succeed and gave her chances to catch up. But math? Every teacher she ever encountered seemed like they set her up to fail. 

He leaned closer to her, staring down at the part of her textbook that wasn’t covered by her arms, “What’s the culprit?” 

“Fractions,” she was almost ashamed to admit. “Doing things with them.” 

“Could I take a look?” 

Sadie raised her head. She had no idea who this guy was. But, if he was offering to help her with her homework, Math no less, he couldn’t be that much of an idiot.

“I haven’t seen you before. Are you a pilot?” doubting he could handle something like this if four other people had already failed.

“The best there is,” he replied casually. “Dagger Squad would be lost without me.” 

She looked at him skeptically, contemplating her answer. Finally, she pushed her textbook over to him, “Okay, wow me, ‘Hangman.’” 

You occasionally glanced back at Sadie as you cleaned up the broken glass. With Bradley gone, Hangman had moved closer to her, one of her butterfly-themed pencils in his hand as the two passed her notebook back and forth, engaged in a lengthy conversation. 

You knew right away what was going on. The git was helping her with her math homework. You didn’t know whether to be pissed off at him, pissed off Rooster left her alone with him, or grateful somebody was willing to explain the damn stuff to her. 

“Are you coming tonight?” Sadie asked, punching something into her calculator. 

“I’m assuming this is the ‘date’ your Aunt mentioned,” flipping the pencil in his hand.

“Something always happens on a Saturday Night,” she wrote something down. “Whether it's dinner, game night, a movie… Rooster’s karaoke ideas.” 

She felt a shiver go through her body at the last one. While she loved her Uncle, Great Balls of Fire was getting old.  

He shrugged. “Wasn’t invited.” 

Sadie frowned, watching him glance at you laughing with the pilots apologizing for the mess.  “I thought all the Daggers came over on Saturday nights.” 

“Not me.” 

She raised an eyebrow, her lips posed, before sliding her notebook over to him, pointing to the question she had just answered with the end of her pencil. 

He glanced down, “You got it.” 

She punched the air, wiggling in her seat. Hangman smiled. 

Settling down from her mini celebration, she peered at him thoughtfully, watching him glance at her Aunt. “My Aunt said I could invite someone. Come.”

“I don’t think I’m the person she wanted you to invite.” 

“Too bad,” She was quick to answer. “Something tells me you have trouble making friends, and I need some.”

Hangman scoffed, “I do not have trouble making friends. Rooster and I just don’t see eye to eye on things.” 

“You're kidding. He’s a softy.” She realized she needed to change her tactic when he didn't react.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the chicken. And you could hang out with Coyote, he’s barbecuing something tonight. Guys seem to like that stuff.” 

Seeing his face, she knew he was coming up with a way to let her down gently. She hated when grown-ups did that. Noticing you were coming back over and her window to convince him was closing, she quickly dragged her notebook back to her. 

“Promise me you’ll at least show up,” flipping through the pages, she tore off a piece of paper, scribbling down something before placing it in front of him. 

“5 o’clock. This address.” Then one last final attempt, “Or is ‘Mr. Best there is’ scared of a little campfire?” 

Reaching the bar, you picked up your forgotten rag and stood in front of the two. Sadie staring somewhat hopefully at Hangman, who was peaking at something in the palm of his hand. 

“How’s the Math homework, Bug?” 

“Better!” She snapped her notebook shut, turning to face you. “He helped me.” 

You gave Hangman a pointed look. “Did he now? Well, thank you, Hangman.” 

He gave a tense smile and a nod. “Anytime.” 

Watching him stand, you caught him out of the corner of your eye, pocketing something into his shorts. You guessed whatever it was, it had to have come from the notebook Sadie so conveniently snapped shut the minute you spoke. 

You straighten your back, putting on your best customer service smile. “I guess we’ll be seeing you around.”

 Suddenly, the damn smirk was back to gracing his face. “Tonight. Thank you for the invite, Ms. Sadie.” 

 Your smile dropped. “Wait, what?” 

Sadie giggled loudly at your reaction, secretly pleased he gave in. “You're welcome,” She sang out. 

You gawked as he leaned down next to Sadie, whispering something in her ear before she turned her head, hand blocking her mouth to say something back, a beaming smile across her face as he stepped away. 

“Elizabeth,” he winked at you as he turned to leave. 

You watched him go, playfully tossed your rag down on the space next to her once he was out of earshot, exclaiming, “What the hell was that!?”

 Sadie only continued to smile, a dreamy look on her face as she placed her head back into her arms, watching the blonde aviator walk out the door, “He was never invited.” 

“Why do you think that might be?” 

She ignored your question. “He’s part of the Daggers. That makes him family.” 

“All families have bad eggs,” a quiet grumble on your lips. 

She looked up at you, her forehead pinched, and her stare final, “You said no questions asked.”  

Shit. 

When you told Sadie she could invite a friend to the Dagger night get-togethers, you thought she’d pick a new friend from school. Maybe one of the kids she played street hockey with, a friend from soccer. You told her no questions asked. Anyone she wanted, hoping it would encourage her to make new friends. 

You glared at her. “Sadie.” 

“Aunt Elizabeth.” 

She pinned you with her eyes, daring you to move. To blink. To make a sound. To give her an answer that was anything but what she wanted to hear. 

Life choices were being regretted. There was no way you were winning a staring contest against a ten-year-old. And you never backed out on a promise. 

“Fine! Fine!” you gave in, throwing your hands up. “But you have to break the news to Rooster.” 

With a giddy smile and a stuck-out tongue, she picked up her pencil, happy to return to the rest of her questions with a sudden newfound eagerness. 

You returned to polishing the forgotten whiskey glass, biting your bottom lip and thinking, ‘I still didn’t get his name.’

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[heartofspells]

This Way We Fall

"Moony calls you Padfoot."

It's not what Sirius expects his godson to say, and he startles a little, his hand skittering, the red line of antlers he'd been curving upwards going wide and stuttering haptically. Two and a half weeks is how long it's taken for Sirius to be allowed into the inner sanctum, granted the holiest of privileges: crayons.

They're kneeling on the front stoop, the door closed in front of them, all previous drawings cleared away to make way for new ones. All except one, the black dog still in place, off to the side, animation charms steadily failing, but its tail gives a weak flutter periodically, stubborn and refusing to die just yet. After his breakfast that morning, Harry had stated it was time. Time for new pictures to replace the old, because the old ones were boring, Moony, and our door is boring, too. And Sirius had been expected to help. Demanded, really, not that he's complaining.

Studying the mess made of his antlers, Sirius is slow to pull his wand, clearing it away to start anew. He thinks there might be a metaphor in there somewhere, but he can't quite grasp it in the jumbled chaos now filling his head.

"Does he?" asks Sirius measuredly, not looking at Harry as he cleans away the red trails.

It's a name he hasn't heard in years, not from anyone. More than five, to be exact, and it pulls at something inside Sirius to hear again now, coming from a mouth that hadn't ever truly managed to form it properly the last time it had tried.

"Sometimes," says Harry, tongue peeking between his teeth as he puts the finishing touches on what Sirius thinks might be a mouse, though he can't be entirely certain. He's never seen a mouse quite that colorful before. Sirius thinks he might make the colors dance once they're finished. "But he never says it to you. Only when he's talking 'bout you."

Humming minutely, Sirius glances over his shoulder to where Remus is seated in the Adirondack chair in the grass. He's reclined back, head and face tilted towards the sky, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, eyes closed. He hasn't reacted to anything said, but Sirius knows the other man is listening because he always is, always near enough to catch every word, to intervene in any and everything he sees fit, though he never does, at least not yet.

"You call him Moony," continues Harry, and he's looking at Sirius now, large green eyes curious where they glint behind the lenses of his glasses, Sirius watching them slip down his nose. Sirius reaches out and pushes them back up, an instinct, a long-forgotten habit but not actually forgotten at all, it seems. "All the time."

"I call him Moony because you call him Moony," explains Sirius, not entirely sure what else to say, turning his gaze back to the door.

Harry is quiet for a minute, rolling a purple crayon between his fingers thoughtfully as Sirius scribbles out his own design, just for something to do.

"Did you used to call him Moony?" he asks finally, head tipping so far to the side that Sirius worries for a second it might twist off his neck and clunk to the concrete below. "Before me?"

Sirius drops his hand from the door, slow to respond before saying quietly, "Did, yeah. A lot. All the time."

"Why?"

"I made it up. I gave him the nickname. Seemed only right that I use it."

"Padfoot's your name?"

Swallowing, eyes dropping to his knees before flickering to Harry, Sirius nods. "It was, a long time ago."

"Who gave it to you?"

"It – " Sirius stops, gaze jumping to the drawings on the door, something sharp stabbing into his heart, like longing, like absence and grief and the need to touch what's never coming back again, eyes drifting to the antlers, tracing their shape, familiar like the hazy outlines made by clouds, memories too distant to fully recall clearly any longer. "Your dad gave me the name. It was his idea. Padfoot. He thought it was funny. He always found things funny that most others didn't."

Harry stares up at him for a minute, and then he exhales a breath, heavy for a six-year-old, so very heavy but somehow lighter than Sirius thinks anything in this moment should be.

"That's nice," is all he says, leaning forward to collect the crayon from Sirius' slack fingers, beginning to push the colors back into the box. "Can you make them move now?" he asks eagerly, eyes bright as he looks up at Sirius again.

When the drawings are animated once more, they watch them flutter and skitter and hobble across the wood of the painted door, Harry happy and excited from the sight. Sirius thinks he could stay this way forever, or at least a very long time, days and months, years and decades, if only given the chance, but Harry suddenly stands beside him, clutching his box of crayons protectively to his chest, like to lose them would be to lose the dearest of friends.

"Gotta take them inside 'cause they melt," informs his godson knowingly, and Sirius watches as he pushes the door open, disappearing inside as it closes in front of his face again.

Read on AO3

Gorgeous art by @drunkdumbfucker <3

[losech]

I picked up a couple Adirondack chairs from the side of the road. Cinder is the first dog to try one out.

[frostbeees]

will you know me?

2023 wrappedmas day four • song: Georgia by Phoebe Bridgers

ao3 · masterpost

Nolan hasn’t seen or talked to Nick since that night almost ten years ago now.

As Nolan’s driving down the winding Michigan backroads, he thinks maybe this was a mistake. He gets the invite every year, the annual friends and family weekend at the Hughes’ Lakehouse, and for the past ten years, he’s either made up some bullshit excuse not to go or he’s been out of the country. It’s worked for him. He hasn’t had to see any of the bridges he’s burned or the broken hearts he left behind. And he’s especially been able to avoid the one person that both of those things apply to. 

But the thing is he’s grown. Or at least he thinks so. He probably hasn’t. He’s probably the same ol’ shithead that he’s been since he hit puberty all those years ago. But he’s definitely not the same fuckup who decided to “confess his love” to his best friend on the night of said best friend’s wedding so that has to count for something. 

And even if he was, he’s past that. Nolan hasn’t seen or talked to Nick since that night almost ten years ago now. He deleted all of his social media, blocked numbers in his phone, got right with God (and then decided fuck that specifically), and figured his shit out. He just never got to the "making amends" part of it all, which maybe in hindsight is why he should have ignored the invite once again.

He finally gets to the house and navigates the sprawling driveway littered with other parked cars both shiny and new, probably belonging to the guys still in the show, and others more like his, dented and chipped paint, guys who clearly couldn’t hang with the big dogs. He finds an open spot and parks his truck, turns it off, and takes a few minutes to do the breathing exercises his therapist taught him. They don’t really do the trick this time as anxiety still simmers beneath his skin but he did them more for the routine of it than anything else. 

It’s easier once he’s inside, familiar faces lighting up when they see him. Daps all around. Nolan comes across quite a few unfamiliar faces as well as he makes his way through the entryway and into the rest of the house. A couple of kids even -for fuck's sake he's old- just little tykes darting between the legs of innocent bystanders. He has no idea who they belong to but they look suspiciously like even littler Hugheses (not surprising) except for the little girl with dark, thick hair and high cheekbones that are a familiar blotchy red color from exertion. 

Nolan makes small talk with the Duke boys and Luke who are all posted up in the kitchen. They thankfully hand him a beer without him asking and he throws a salute back their way as he sneaks out the backdoor and onto the deck. 

He’s not admitting defeat yet but it is quieter out here, less overstimulating. Nolan’s stopped to talk to Zegras and Drysdale, still somehow attached at the hip even after being separated in a nasty trade deal. He’s always liked Z. He’s insane, mind still moving a mile a millisecond but he also knows how to bring a person down which is a relief. They move on eventually, Z claiming the need to find food to "keep Jimmy happy or else". He doesn’t elaborate on what the ‘or else’ means though.

Nolan’s alone for the first time since arriving at the party and he takes a minute to just lean over the railing, beer dangling in his fingers as he takes in the lake behind the house. The ambient noise of the boats on the water and the people at the party is enough to distract him from a body sidling up against him and when he glances over, he’s shocked, to say the least.  

“Long time, no see sport,” Nick says, voice careful and flat even if his face is as cheery as ever. And he’s right. It’s been a long time. 

“Hey chief,” Nolan replies, just like their old script went. 

They spend the evening catching up, eventually moving from the deck railing to some Adirondack chairs down on the beach. They occasionally get interrupted by a stray kid running down the shoreline to show off whatever gross thing they found in the water or one of the dogs bringing them a ball to toss. But they hit all the basics. Nick’s injury that finally made him retire, his new job in Columbus teaching youth hockey. Nolan’s retirement after a year of bouncing around teams that didn’t really want him, bumming around his hometown much to the dismay of his parents. They dance around the obvious subject until the sun starts to set and Nolan’s had enough beer to give him a nice, confident buzz.

“So how’s Ken–,” Nolan glances down at Nick’s ring finger which he’s now realizing is startling bare. Not even a tan line to indicate recent wearing of a ring. “Oh.”

“Ah yeah,” Nick says with a stretch. “Kendra moved out a couple of years ago now. Took the dog and left a note saying something about me never really loving her or whatever. She was probably right. Hard to love someone when you’re not over someone else.”

Nolan gives an understanding hum but Nick keeps going. “What about you? You manage to settle down with someone?”

“Nah.” The old Nolan would make some sort of joke, something about not wanting to be tied down, needing to be free. The new Nolan is different, apparently. “Hard to do when you want someone you can’t have.”

When he finally looks away from the water, Nick’s looking up at him with the most earnest expression, which is saying a lot for a man who could get mixed up with a sad puppy in a lineup. He’s not really sure what to do with it so he does the next best thing.

“You wanna?” Nolan waggles his eyebrows, making his intent super clear. He nods towards the shed down by the water. “For old time's sake?”

Nick’s quiet for a few minutes. Which– Isn’t a no, but also isn’t a yes to Nolan’s proposition.

“What if we try something new?” Nick asks and Nolan is confused. They’ve done basically everything from drunken blowies in a frat basement to sweet, drawn-out morning sex. There’s nothing sexual they didn’t check off the list in college. And anything they haven’t managed to try definitely can’t be done in a shitty shed. “Let me take you on a date? A real date.”

Nolan huffs out a laugh mostly out of surprise but also to cover up whatever his face must be doing right now. 

“Yeah, okay old man. Let’s do it right this time.”

[cf56]

Season 3 segment names solved

Alright, let me get to the bottom of all of these segment names once and for all. Literally, I have figured out almost every single segment name for the season, with near 100% certainty. This post will contain the biggest

SPOILERS

I've ever posted on this blog.

(It’s not really that spoilery, though, just the same thing you’ll see when you log into Hulu to watch season 3. Episode descriptions and titles.)

I went digging myself on ui.eidr.org, where many of the leaks originally came from. I was able to match the episode titles with the descriptions we now have of the episodes to definitively say which is which.

I would like to credit this ask for prodding me to look deeper into this.

Episode 1 is "Previously On/Season 3 & WB/How to Friendship"

Previously On will likely be a lead-in to Season 3 & WB, recapping what happened in the season 2 finale.

Episode 2 is "Soda-pressed/A Starbox is Born/Royal Flush"

I know this because the title "Royal Flush" matches up with the description of "Brain plans to rig a high stakes poker game to become the new Kind of England". Now look at the first description for this episode. That's right, the influencer episode is not "Teeniacs." It's "Soda-Pressed." I was reluctant all along to say for sure that the teen influencer episode was actually "Teeniacs", and it turns out I was right to be skeptical.

Episode 3 is "Planet Warner/Talladega Mice: The Ballad of Pinky Brainy/D.I.WHY?"

So "Planet Warner" has nothing to do with aliens or Warner creatures and is actually the segment about a day on the Warner Bros. lot.

Episode 4 is probably "Fantasy - Cold Open"/"Über Nachtmare"/possibly more

There are only 9 complete episode titles listed out of 10 for the season, so I had to piece this one together out of random segment names that didn't have a home in any other episode title. This one has by far the most uncertainty. "Über Nachtmare" is the segment with Scratchy and Wakko in the car together.

Episode 5 is probably "Teeniacs/Starbox & Cindy: Dog Days/Groundmouse Day Part One"

Episodes 4 and 5 have no descriptions. I put this episode here through the process of elimination, and because it stands to reason that "Groundmouse Day Part One" would be in the episode immediately before "Groundmouse Day Part Two"/"Groundmouse Day Again". This episode could just as well be episode 4, though.

"Teeniacs" actually probably is the one with older Dot, which is what I thought in the beginning, but we got led astray. Full circle speculation.

Episode 6 is "Animaliens/Murder Pals (Part 1)/Groundmouse Day Again/Murder Pals (Part 2)/The Island of Dr. Warneau/Murder Pals (Part 3)"

This one has two different titles on EIDR, with the biggest difference being that "Groundmouse Day Again" was alternatively called "Groundmouse Day Part Two". I have no idea what Murder Pals is.

Episode 7 is "The Wrath of Khan/Lawn in Sixty Seconds/All's Fair in Love and Door"

Don't have much to say about this one. I did guess that "All's Fair in Love and Door" was the PATB alternate reality one, based on the trailer clips.

Episode 8 is probably "WARnerGAMES/Starbox & Cindy: Bedtime/WARnerGAMES 2/Crumbly's Moment"

This one is weird. There are two episode titles with "Starbox & Cindy: Bedtime" in the middle. The other one is "Ready Warner One: Part One/Starbox & Cindy: Bedtime/Ready Warner One: Part Two". The "Ready Warner One" title was created months before the "WarnerGames" title, so my theory is that "Ready Warner One" was recently renamed to "WarnerGames".

Episode 9 is "How the Brain Thieved Christmas Part One/Santamaniacs/How the Brain Thieved Christmas Part Two"

Looks like a fun Christmas episode. I find it interesting that Brain is "desperately" trying to take over the world. Is he realizing his time is running out, or just sick of all the failure?

Episode 10 is "International Mouse of Mystery/Aliens Resurrected/Joe/The Stickening/Slappy's Return/Everyday Safety: Giant Adirondack Chair"

The global warming segment is "Aliens Resurrected" or "Joe", and it does sound like aliens are threatening to destroy Earth unless Yakko convinces them otherwise with a song. Animaniacs ends with "Everyday Safety: Giant Adirondack Chair", which is either fitting or disappointing. I'm really curious to see how they turn that into an ending. Slappy returns in the finale, but it doesn't seem like her segment will be very long.

[loveh20]

Toulouse Sky

October,

Leaves start their journey down,

Color change like a chameleon,

Green, Red, Yellow,

To Brown,

A bottle of wine,

Stands open,

A fire pit burns and smokes,

Adirondack chairs colorful as the Fall,

Circle,

Evening come early,

The sun sets too quickly,

Stars start to work overtime,

Lighting the night sky,

The moon makes an appearance,

Flames flicker,

The conversation,

Quiets,

A meditative silence,

A dog off in the distances barks once,

And understands,

The snap of burning wood,

And the Toulouse sky,

Turns to Grayscale,

Then to black and starlight.

[mysteriouslyjellyfish]

mission Beautify Tiny Courtyard Thing Outside My Building has begun!

haven’t I recently been trying to organize and streamline my life because the warmer seasons are so so busy? yes. does this streamlining include scaling back on personal projects? yes again. am I probably going to keep doing this anyways? also yes.

it’s not actually an ugly space, in my opinion. all the different vines are so nice and create rainbows in the fall, and there’s the person who planted sunflowers and squash last year (which did sort of well?) and there are some ostrich ferns coming up, and it does get sun. but it’s mostly used by smokers and people letting their dogs out to pee. and I would like a nice outdoor space that I can also enjoy please and thank you!

I acquired some free columbine plants from work (not our native columbine, thus I’m keeping them in pots and will cut the flowers before they go to seed) and got some pots and potting mix (also free!) from someone on craigslist today. am now eyeing some plastic adirondack chairs someone’s selling for cheap...

this is definitely a “ask forgiveness not permission” situation re: my building management :)

[gmorham]

It's May '23 & I'm at my second home, on the beach in Ft. Lauderdale. Max' 90'f min 76', I can just about cope.

The routine, if you can call it that is, 05.00 awaken, consult WApp & Facebook & tennis scores (this week it's Rome)

06.00 ablutions, local TV News + the local weather

07.00 early workout in the pool, 40 lengths, around an hour

08.30 head off to Village Grille or Cafe,

(that's Lauderdale by the Sea or behind Conrad off A1A on Terramar.)

09.30 read in my library, on my Adirondack chair or at Nanou (north on A1A)

11.00 off to shop (books, Publix, Whole Foods, or take a haircut in Wilton Manors)

12.30 back to BPT's, survey the deck, read in the shade retire to my room om 18, I'm an owner so I can virtually.. y guarantee 'high',

15.00 siesta

17.00 TV, read

19.00 second swim or early supper, cheap $30, or post clothes shop more expensive $100.

21.30 to 23.30 retire

Unless Sir is visiting, then it's dinner & cinema (where ever, he's driving, to retire for a sleepless night till he departs at 0600 & I swim at 0700, I'm seldom more than 5 mins late, very sad ..

Am I on UK time, possibly, doing messages, WApp, Facebook & Instagram.

In a very controlled environment.

I've 20+ WApp friends consuming my comments on the world around me, on Facebook I'm a voyeur into (dogs, tennis commentaries, male models, Paris, Amsterdam, downtown & south beach Miami + Ft. Lauderda,& just a handful of friends & their activities,

On Instagram I'm a complete voyeur (performing dogs, foodie treats, bodybuilders, lgbt folk, classical musicians, singers, and again Paris, Amsterdam, Country Life & the Royals, Miami South beach + downtown, Ft. L, L by the Sea & Pompano.

Seem to cope with the structure of my days, there's always choice for bfast & dinners, don't DO lunch unless I'm invited out. Today a gorgeous Peruvian outlet next to !e Rendez Vous off B Boulevard a 50min drive down South ... but that's Sir for you !!

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 7 - Oh, What a Night!

📜 Have fun with this one! We got reunions! We got tension! We got some heat packing 👀

P.S..... Don't kill me for the ending.

❗ 18+, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, original child, sexual themes, mentions of violence/threats

#5.9K words

Part 6 | Masterlist | Part 8

This wasn’t the first time you worked New Year's Eve, but it was the first time you were staying past midnight.

Penny always had a rule. If you didn’t work Christmas Eve, you worked New Year's Eve. You always found it fair, though you never drew the short end of the stick when you worked for her during school.

New Year at the Hard Deck was always fun. The students in the Top Gun program would be the rowdiest, whether it permitted them to let loose or enjoy the holiday. And the locals loved it here.

Penny would decorate the bar, banners strung from the ceiling and balloons on random chairs. She’d leave the Christmas lights up to make it look festive, and she always splurged on confetti canisters for when the clock struck midnight. 

And the best thing? The harbour across the water from the Hard Deck would put on a fireworks display, the best view being from the back deck—where Sadie, Will and Alyssa were currently settled in. 

When Alyssa learned Sadie would tag along with you tonight, she took pity on her. She decided to forgo her New Year's Eve plans of sitting at home, watching the Ball Drop with Will, to spend it with the pair of you. Penny had graciously set up the Adirondack chairs and a small heater for the three of them as they waited for the display you knew was the only reason Sadie agreed to come. 

The bar hadn’t become as busy yet as you expected, but the anxiety for the rush tonight was driving you mad. Penny had run out to do a last-minute errand, leaving you and Jimmy to cover any early customers. You found yourself double-checking and triple-checking the inventory, leaning down occasionally to make sure the bottles of sanitizer were full in the bottom cupboard, despite having just filled them. 

And that stupid keg with the loose nozzle was still causing issues.

“Come on, you stupid, goddamn thing!” Huffing in frustration, you kicked it, knowing it wouldn’t solve anything. “Why do you have to do this to me? On today of all days.” 

“What did that Keg do to a beautiful woman like you?”

You froze.

Turning around, you couldn't believe your eyes. There was Jake, just like the day you met him, leaning up against the bar with the same cocky Mona Lisa grin, taking in your reaction to his sudden appearance.

“Jake!” you almost squealed, quickly making a run for the opening of the bar. Jake laughed wholeheartedly as you slid coming around the corner, hand whipping out to balance yourself before throwing yourself into him. 

Jake bracketed his arms against your back the second you leaped, pulling you further up and into him tightly, your legs swaying as you continued to laugh happily. 

“When did you get back?” you managed to ask through your laughter. 

“Late this morning,” he chuckled into your shoulder. You didn’t want to let him go. He was here. He was back. And suddenly, the mystery ache in your chest from his absence was disappearing with each second he held you. 

“Where are the others? Are they here?” 

“Not yet,” he said, putting you down but not letting you go, hands travelling to your waist. “On their way, I might have snuck out early.” 

“Jake, please tell me you're not going to get into trouble.” 

“Nah, I just got my report done before everyone else.”

You unwound your arms from behind his neck, your hands sliding down, slowly coming to rest on his chest. Peering up at Jake, you couldn't help the gentle smile.

"Hi."

He returned your grin before looking down at your mouth, murmuringly lowly, “Hi, darlin’.” 

“You want to see her?” you asked happily. Jake's stare lasted a few seconds before a soft smile stretched across his face, and he nodded. “She’s here?” 

You couldn’t help your glee. Sadie was going to be so excited. 

“Jimmy!” you shouted, turning in Jake’s arms. “Can you handle the bar for five minutes? Somebody needs to say hi to Sadie!”

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Jimmy walked out to smile at the sight of Jake standing next to you.

"Ah, Hangman! Welcome back!" he exclaimed, reaching out his hand. Jake gripped his forearm, his grin wide as he greeted him back. “Jimmy, it's good to see you.” 

“Everyone made it back, okay?” 

“Just by the skin of our teeth.” He joked. Something made you uneasy about how nonchalantly Jake spoke, whether he was serious or not. You knew you couldn't really ask what happened while they were deployed, but that didn't mean you weren't concerned for their well-being.  

“Go say hi to our girl. I can take care of it,” he winked at the both of you. 

Jake held your hand as you led him out to the back deck, coming to stop just before the doors. You turned to him, pressing a finger to your mouth, telling him to be quiet and to remain hidden.

When you stepped outside, Sadie and Will were deep in a conversation, Alyssa with her nose buried in her phone. She looked happy, you thought, a different comparison to Christmas day. While she seemed to have a good time, the traditions that she and Ridley had that you tried to keep up only made her sad. And you couldn’t help but shed a few tears when she admitted she thought she could be making new traditions with everyone else while opening her gifts, staring at the ones she left under the tree for her aunts and uncles. 

“Bug!” you called out to her. 

She turned her head mid-conversation, and you resisted the urge to laugh, her entire body, minus her head, encased by the big fluffy blanket she had brought with her.

“There’s somebody here to see you!” you called out to her, barely containing your excitement.

Sadie leaned forward in her chair, thinking somebody might be behind you before looking to the door with a curious gaze. You motioned for Jake to leave his hiding spot. He took a gigantic step, placing himself in her line of sight and out of from behind the door frame, his voice loud as he said, “I heard somebody missed me?” 

It took Sadie all but three seconds to gasp. 

“Uncle Jake!” she shrieked, blanket floating behind her as she practically flew out of her chair. Sadie slammed herself into his legs, gripping him tight as the first bouts of happy tears started to make themselves known. Jake did a double take, registering what Sadie had called him, a new weight settling in his chest. 

Sadie wanted him in her life. She wanted to have him as one of her honorary uncles. A slow smile spread across his face at the thought. He leaned down to peel her off his legs, picking her up and spinning her in a circle while laughing with her. 

“Wait, does that mean Auntie Nat and Uncle Roo are back? Uncle Bob?” she asked as he came to a stop, putting her down. 

“Coyote, Payback and Fanboy, too,” he nodded, kneeling beside her, his hand coming up to wipe at one of the tear tracks on her face. You never saw her smile as big as she did then, dimples on full display as she tilted her head back towards the sky, shooting her arms up in joy, before going to hug Jake once more. 

You weren’t surprised Sadie didn’t want to let him go - her hand was small in comparison as it rested against his wide shoulder. But it seemed like he didn’t mind, looking at you with a smirk every so often as Sadie filled him in on what he missed before looking back to her with interest. He latched on to the warplane museum story, asking her about all the different planes she saw; Sadie happily named off the ones she remembered. 

Alssya came to stand beside you, bumping your hip with hers as she watched the pair interact with each other. 

“Whose this hunk?” she asked, making googly eyes at Jake. “Is there something you're not telling me?” 

“What, Jake? He’s just a friend.” 

She scoffed. “Yeah, friends.”

“Lyssa, don’t. He doesn’t really have anyone else. And Sadie adores him.” 

Alyssa stared at you, really stared at you, before shaking her head. She leaned down next to your ear as she returned to her seat.

“Just friends don’t look at each other like that.” 

____

You got another break when Penny returned from her supposed errand, though it was more like a 'supposed reunion' with a certain Captain. Bob, Fanboy and Payback had followed her in not long after. Sadie booked it from sitting on Jake’s knee, crashing into them while crying and hugging them. 

Then shortly after, Rooster, Phoenix and Coyote arrived. Rooster hung back as Nat swept Sadie up in a full-bodied hug, Coyote also picking her up, much like Jake did and swung her in a circle. But last to the approach was Rooster, Sadie turning to spy him nervously, smiling at her as he held out his arms. Sadie stood stock still, tears welling in her eyes and her face becoming red as she held out her arms in front of her, racing to Bradley as he knelt down, pulling her into his arms. 

Out of all the people she welcomed home tonight, Rooster’s welcome made her cry the hardest. 

The night progressed.  You noticed Jake and Coyote playing a game of pool from behind the bar. Sadie had spent, and was still spending, a good chunk of time curled up in Nat's lap, retelling her the stories of what she missed while coming down from her crying spree. Bob was with them, sitting next to Sadie while striking up a conversation with Alyssa. Fanboy and Payback had left after saying hi, explaining they already had plans to go back home for the rest of the holidays. 

And Rooster found his perch, sitting at the piano taking requests. 

Your found family was back. And you couldn’t have been happier. 

You were saying goodbye to a customer when Coyote approached the bar, smiling as he ordered more drinks for himself and Jake. 

"How was she?" he asked as you reached down to get two beer bottles. "While we were gone?"

“She was miserable. Worrying about you guys every day,” you answered, taking each bottle to the opener fixed to the door. “The video chats really helped. I’m sorry I couldn’t speak with all of you guys. Cyclone made me choose.” 

Coyote shook his head, chuckling to himself. “It’s okay, Liz. We knew you were thinking about us.” 

"How was everyone else?" you placed the beers down on the counter. Javy turned, looking out at the rest of the squad. 

"Missing home,” he said while looking at Jake.

___

Penny finally came to relieve you again a half hour before midnight. 

You found a quiet booth no one had touched yet, sliding all the way to the back to put your legs up on the bench, sighing in relief when the pressure came off your ankles. You tilted your head back against the wall and closed your eyes. You finally felt like you could breathe and take a moment for yourself. 

Till you felt a hand on your bottom ankle, lifting up your legs so somebody could slide underneath them. 

“Whoever that is, you have five seconds before I kick you off this bench.” 

“And here I thought you missed me?” Jake replied back amusedly, hand resting on your calf. You kept your eyes closed, though you smiled fondly. 

“I’ll still kick you off this bench. This is the first time I’ve sat down in hours.”

"Nope, I don't think so." He said, pulling your legs forward and trapping them in his hold as your butt slid forward on the slippery wood. You let out a startled laugh, your hand whipping out to grasp the table to prevent the back of your head from connecting with the wall.

"Hey, watch it!" You called out, laughing with him as he dramatically held your legs closer. That was until he caught you staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused, once he noticed your laughter dying down.

“What’s wrong?” 

You jolted. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. Just tried."

He didn't buy it. “I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me what’s wrong.” 

He could read you so well, you thought. You weren’t fine. Ever since finding the letter, you were on edge, looking over your shoulder in parking lots and grocery stores, making sure you were never late to pick up Sadie from something. Or if Penny or Alyssa did, you’d stress making sure they let you know when they had her.

It was only a piece of paper.  And yet, it was burning a hole in your pocket.

Sighing, you slid your legs off Jake’s lap, using the momentum to sit next to him and pull Tyler’s letter out of your back pocket. It had been folded over so many times from you looking at it that the page was starting to crease. 

“Take a look at this. I found it in Ridley’s stuff.” 

You held it out to Jake. You couldn’t help but leer at his hands, prominent veins moving while long fingers worked to unfold the piece of paper. You watched his eyes scan the page, eyes tracking over the words until they paused at the bottom. You knew the exact moment he realized, his body becoming stiff and tense sitting next to you.  

“That fucker.” 

You gulped. Jake turned to face you, harshly throwing the letter down to the table.  “Do you think he’s the one who put the review in?” 

You shook your head. “I don’t think he can.” 

“Liz, he was threatening her." His words made you drop your head to the table. Your voice was muffled as you replied sadly, “And Sadie.” 

The contents of that letter scared you more each and every time you looked at it. Tyler had written inquiring after Sadie, demanding your sister return her to him or else. There was no legality in what he was requesting, Tyler having signed his rights over. And after witnessing what he did to your sister, there was never a hells chance you'd let him get close to her. 

You’d sooner die than let her suffer at his hands.

It was a quiet cry on your lips when threading your fingers through the roots of your hair, you admitted, "I'm so scared, Jake."

“Did you take this to the police?” 

“What good would that do?” you cried out,  pulling your head back up. “They’ll probably tell me there’s nothing they can do without evidence he’s actually been in contact with me. That letter is how many months old, Jake.”

You picked it up, playing with one of the edges, bending it back and forth.

“I keep looking over my shoulder. Worrying about Sadie while she’s at school. That he's going to do something,” you sniffed, pressing the heel of your hand into your eye before letting the letter fall once again to the table.

"Elizabeth."

You turned to face Jake upon hearing your name. He looked furious, his jaw firm and a vein on his forehead protruding angrily.  "I'm not going to let that happen. He'd be flat on his ass in two seconds before he got that close to Sadie," he spoke harshly before his face relaxed slightly. "Or you."

"I can't ask you to do that. You're not getting in trouble for us."

"Too fucking bad."

Feeling overwhelmed, you pressed your forehead into the side of Jake’s shoulder, taking the opportunity to try to compose yourself before turning to rest it against his shoulder. Jake turned his head, pressing his lips to the top of yours, murmuring into your hair, “I won’t let anything happen to her.” 

You leaned back, looking up at Jake thankfully. However, you were suddenly confused by the look of determination on his face.

Liz," he said softly. "There's something I need to tell you."

You straightened a little, placing your hand on top of his resting on the table. You couldn't hide the concern from your voice when you replied, "Of course, Jake. What's wrong?"

Jake took a deep breath, turning his hand over on the table to grasp yours. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he noticed the worry in your eyes.

Unfortunately, in that hesitation, it took almost two seconds for Bradley to slide into the booth opposite, a permanent scowl on his face as he immediately remarked,  “And what do we have going on here?” 

“Hi, Rooster,” you said, turning to him while attempting to force a smile on your face, letting Jake's hand go to place it under the table.

“You two seem pretty close. Something you want to share?”

The heat in his voice caused a bundle of nerves to form in your stomach. You knew what it looked like, you and Jake being this close to each other.  You hadn’t really told him about Sadie, and you knew any attempt to tell him now would only result in complete denial, to cover up whatever he thought he knew. 

You picked up the letter on the table before looking up at Jake. 

"It's up to you," he told you, not bothering to once turn towards Bradley. “I’m not saying a word.” 

Jake’s choice of words didn’t help either. But you respected that he was letting you choose to tell Bradley about the issue with Sadie for yourself. And something told you he would back you up either way. 

“Bradley, whatever your thinking...”

“I don’t know, Liz,” he interrupted you. “I think you didn’t listen to us when we told you to stay away from him. That he's bad news."

"Wow, subtle Bradshaw."

Rooster ignored Jake, still eyeing you harshly.

"Are you fucking him?"

You felt Jake tense beside you, a hand coming out to grip your thigh. Instead, you calmly asked, "How much have you had to drink tonight, Roo?

He didn't answer, too caught up in his words to listen to you. “Are you even thinking about Sadie? What this might do to her? Do you even care to think about her first? You're her aunt, you should be!"

Your heart dropped into your stomach. 

“Jake, let me up. I need to get back to Penny.” 

He didn’t move. “Your break isn’t over yet.” 

“Too fucking bad.” 

Noticing your need to escape, Jake stood up to let you out. He reached out when you weren’t mindful of the coat hook above your head in your desperate urge to flee. His hand prevented what would have been a painful moment for you, and despite the pain on your face from Rooster’s words, you managed a small smile in thanks after your head bumped his hand.

You took two steps forward before deciding to stop, turning around in a silent rage, only to throw Tyler’s letter to the table to stare dead into Bradley’s eyes. 

“It is about Sadie, you asshole.” 

Jake watched as you stomped off back to Penny, helping to relieve her of the sudden line forming around the bar. Penny’s face was one of gratitude as more people eagerly gathered in line to get their next drink before midnight. As he sat back down, Rooster watched you march off with an open mouth. 

“And here I thought you liked staying on that perch,” Jake leaned back, staring at Bradley while crossing his arms. “Observing, learning everything before you made your move.” 

“Fuck off, Hangman.” 

“You might want to take a look at that before you start mouthing off. Least of all to poor Liz.”

Rooster glared at Jake before looking at the piece of paper you threw down to the table, reluctantly picking it up. Jake remained seated as Bradley read, his eyes frantically moving back and forth the longer he read, and not unlike Jake’s reaction, Bradley reeled back, dropping the letter to the table as it burned him. 

“Motherfucker.” 

“My sentiments exactly.” 

Rooster eyed the piece of paper wearily. Then he started to put two and two together. Jake knew something he didn't. And he didn’t like that. 

"What's going on, Hangman?"

It took Jake a moment to think about what you’d want him to say. Bradley was always a stubborn person. He didn’t know your reasons for not telling the rest of the Daggers what had happened. But if Tyler really was going to follow through with his threats, Sadie needed to be protected. Bradley needed to know. 

“CPS called Liz in a few weeks before we left. Somebody put in a review on the paperwork for Sadie’s guardianship.”

Rooster was stunned. Out of all the things he expected Jake to say, that wasn't certainly one of them. Jake's words sobered his rage, at least for the moment.

 “Can they do that?” he asked, throwing himself back into the seat in disbelief.

Jake nodded, replying, "Somebody requested it from the outside. It wasn't internal." Bradley took a moment, staring at the piece of paper now in between them. 

“She says the list is non-existent, though my money is on Tyler if his letter isn't a dead giveaway," Jake glanced down, picking up the letter. He was brought back to that day of the hike when you told him of Tyler and your family, how you told him about the promise you ensure Sadie never suffered the same trauma you did growing up. He folded it up as you had done and pocketed it into his pants. “Regardless if she says he can’t.”

Rooster thought about his words before asking, "Why didn't she come to us?"

“If you haven’t noticed, she puts up a mask whenever she’s around you guys.”

Rooster scoffed. "How would you know? You’ve only really known her for less than a month.” 

Jake didn’t hesitate when he answered, “She’s the first to ditch on a Saturday night—collecting the dishes and disappearing when nobody else is looking, not bothering to ask someone to help to carry them in. And you should know better than anyone, Liz doesn’t have a tendency to ask for help.”

It was true, Bradley thought. Not once did you ask for help with anything. He practically had to sweet talk you into letting him pick up Sadie from school. But regardless, if it was about Sadie, you still would have let them know.

"She still would have told us."

“Really? Cause I think it’s no wonder she didn’t trust you if you’re resorting to calling her names because you saw something you didn’t like.” 

Bradley had enough, sliding out of the booth and starting in the direction of you to set the picture straight. 

“Bradshaw,” Jake called out after him. “Have you really asked her how she’s been since bringing Sadie home?”

Bradley stopped but didn’t turn around. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t be the only one that notices she clams up when her sister is mentioned. Whatever you see, It's clear she’s not grieving.”

Bradley turned back around, staring at the floor for a few seconds before looking back up at Jake.

“Whatever resentment you have for me, can you at least can it for now? Until we figure out who's targeting Liz and Sadie.”

Rooster sighed, making his way back over to the booth and popping himself back into the seat. 

“Okay, fine,” he relented. “Until Sadie and Liz are okay.”

“For Sadie and Liz," Jake nodded, looking down to straighten his nameplate. “Besides, I’ve officially got Sadie's stamp of approval. What type of Uncle would I be if I didn’t look out for her?” 

Looking back up at Bradley, Jake had to give Sadie credit.

Her statement about his ability to turn 'Red as a Rooster' was surprisingly accurate.

___

At five minutes to midnight, you found yourself ringing the bell three times. Jake and Bradley were the closest to you, having stayed in the booth talking. You’d be stupid not to realize Jake would have filled in Bradley regarding the issue with CPS. It was the longest you’ve ever seen them together in each other's company, let alone that close to each other, without deciding to tear one another apart. 

The minute the guy realized, somewhat drunkenly, he would be manhandled by two naval officers out of the bar, he quickly got up with both hands raised. Jake led him outside with a hand on his shoulder while Rooster stayed behind, observing you somewhat regretfully.

“I’m sorry, Liz.” As he spoke, you didn’t look him in the eye, deciding to polish a glass instead. This only made Bradley feel worse, hating that you were treating him like he wasn’t in the room.

"I should have..."

"Should have what, Bradley?" you snarked, pulling the rag from your shoulder and throwing it into the small sink under the bar. "Should have asked why I was so upset before jumping to conclusions?"

You glared at him, leaning forward on the edges of the makeshift counter. "For thinking that I don't put Sadie first? For thinking that I was fucking Jake?"

Some of the older patrons sitting at the bar shot you a look. You grimaced at your choice of words, but it didn't stop you from raging. Lowering your voice, you continued, "You know damn well I don't do anything without making sure she'd be okay. That she comes first before all else."

“I just wish you would have told us. We could have helped.”

You sighed, looking down and picking up your rag. “Honestly, Bradley. If I told you why, you’d hate me.”

Rooster paused for a second before replying, “Because of Sadie.” 

You looked up at him, instantly regretting it once you saw the look of pity on his face. You couldn’t stand his face, suddenly deciding you needed to collect the empty glasses Penny had left on the side of the bar. Only Rooster followed along the opposite side, coming to stand directly in front of you.

"Bradley, don't."

He didn't listen to you. "She's always with us. Saturday nights, special occasions, simply hanging. If not, your working."

You placed the whiskey glass in your hand down, head hanging low as you fought the pressure behind your eyelids.

"You don't want her to know what is going on. And I don't mean with Tyler or CPS, but with you."

You gripped your forearm, bracing yourself for his next words.

"It's okay to grieve Ridley, Liz."

His words made you crumble.

God Dammit, Rooster.

"I'm sorry I said you don't put Sadie first. I know you do. We all do," he said gently. Then his next set of words surprised you.

"And I'm glad you at least told someone. Even if it was Hangman."

That made you pause, finally deciding to look him in the eye and let your arm go, already knowing you were going to forgive him for his words about Sadie. But while you didn't care for the implications behind his words regarding you, there was something you needed to get off your chest. Your voice was fierce as you gave into that split-second urge to divulge the one thing that had been bothering you since after the Hike.

“Don’t shit on Jake all the time, okay?”

 He gave you a look, arching a brow almost playfully, but dropped his face the minute he realized how serious you were being.

"I get it. To you, he's rude, ignorant, and defiantly says the wrong thing at the wrong time. And he might be a womanizer, but he's been nothing but good to Sadie, okay? And me."   

Bradley’s face remained blank as you continued. "Sadie's picking up on all the animosity and hates it. So either you get over whatever issues you have with him and be there for Sadie, including letting Jake be involved in her life, with the rest of the Daggers in line, or I don't accept your apology.” 

"Okay."

Wait, What?

You looked at him shocked. He nodded to you once, knocking on the top of the bar twice with his knuckle before turning on his heel to leave. There was no way it was that easy, especially with Bradley.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" you called after him.

Bradley whipped around, hands gesturing out as he replied, "Because you asked," before continuing his walk to reclaim his previous spot at the piano bench, calling over his shoulder, "Besides, it's a new year. We need to make resolutions and shit!"

You had no idea what happened after you left Jake and Bradley to their own devices, but you couldn't help but chuckle, even somewhat nervously, at Bradley's sudden carefree attitude.

How long it would last was another thing.

After a quick bathroom break, you caught yourself in the middle of the Hard Deck as the final countdown started. You spied Will and Sadie with the sparklers you had brought, waving them around to match the numbers being said aloud.

Alyssa had joined Rooster momentarily at the piano, and you had a feeling she was purposely putting herself in a place where she’d be easily accessible for a midnight kiss. Something you'd be grilling her about the next time you saw her.

Coyote was standing next to the girl he had been chatting up all night, Bob and Phoneix were shouting the countdown together, and Penny and Mav smiling at each other.

But Jake was nowhere in sight. 

You sighed, turning around to go back to the bar, anticipating the rush once Penny popped the bottles of champagne. You were one step in the opposite direction before hitting a solid chest, a cry of surprise escaping your lips as a pair of arms came to stop you from toppling over. 

Jake was coming back into the bar when the countdown started. In years previous, when he wasn’t stationed somewhere or found himself out celebrating, he’d generally chat up a girl to seal the deal with a midnight kiss, which would usually end the night in someone’s bed.  

He had nothing but you on his mind, searching for you as he walked, finding you staring out the back doors to look at Sadie and her friend before your eyes travelled the rest of the room. You were there, standing in the middle of the floor, and as he told you not once, not twice, but three times now, you were beautiful. 

Time has a funny way of changing your priorities. Time spent away from your friends, family and home. Moments when you have nothing but time, waiting around for something to happen. Instances where, in life-or-death situations, you found yourself wondering how much time you had left. 

Would he ever own up to the fact that one of the photos Sadie must have accidentally sent him ended up in his cockpit? A photo of you from the picnic when Sadie was messing with the blanks. You weren’t looking at the camera, not even aware she had pointed it at you nor taken it, but rather staring off over the lookout, a soft smile on your face. 

And on those runs, the ones where enemy fire was inescapable and on the ones where they’d simply fly over doing recon, he’d look to that picture and think about you. 

He thought about how you scared him with your presence, how you cared. You challenged him to think more about life in the sky, the impending moment he would eventually burn in, simply by allowing him to see into your and Sadie’s lives. How much more time would he have left to be a part of your lives? 

Women always told him he wasn’t the type you’d settle down with. He was the one-night stand, the fling from the bar the night before deployment because it would be the last time he’d ever feel something. Being involved with him came with consequences, and it was just too high of a price to pay.  

And yet, before he left, you told him to come home. On that video call, you told him to come home. Sadie even wrote to him on the back of her plane photo she wanted him to come home.  So he secretly found himself looking at your picture, at Sadie’s, wanting to come home to both of you. 

You were off limits.

But he was tired of listening to what others were telling him to do. 

If the world, fate, or whatever guiding force was telling him all those other times weren’t right to kiss you, a kiss to start a New Year had to be it.

He found himself behind you, about to say your name when you turned, slamming yourself into his chest with a cry, and wobbled, so close to falling over. He reached out to grab you, pulling you upright and into his body. 

Ten, Nine, Eight…

"Jake?" you asked concerningly. His eyes were blown wide, just a bare line of green making up his irises. Looking up in worry something might be wrong, you found nothing of the sort. 

“What’s..”  you started to say, but the words died in your throat. Jake’s hand came up to grip the side of your face, fingers hooking themselves around the edge of your jaw, pausing momentarily before sliding to the back of your neck to find a grip within the roots of your hair. 

You drew in a sharp breath, feeling like your body was drowning underwater, ears muting out the shouts of everyone counting down around you. Instead, the voice in the back of your head took over, strangely sounding a lot like your sister's, attempting to encourage you to believe It must be lust.

Seven, Six, Five…

He found himself tilting your head back, pressing forward where your noses nudged together. Your fingers mocked his, slipping delicately up his cheek and settling into his hair. Finding yourself thinking, what harm would it do if you did give in to whatever this thing was if it felt so right? 

Four…

As Jake’s grip got tighter on your waist, you started rising on the balls of your feet to meet him, pressing your body into his.  Ridley’s voice, a mantra in your head, was screaming fuck it, fuck it, fuck it as you felt the warmth of his breath caress your lips. 

And Jake, wondering how you’d feel under him. What would your lips taste like? Would they be as soft as he’d imagined on those sleepless nights on the carrier during his deployment? Or would you kiss him as you did in his dreams, the ones that would make him startle wake?

Three…

But then came the little traitorous thought, ‘Would you care for it if he did?’ 

Two, One…

At the last second, just before the final shout of Happy New Year, Jake moved, pressing a delicate kiss to the farthest corner of your mouth instead.  The sound of popping outside overtook the sound of your heartbeat as you registered the softness of his lips just on the barest part of yours, his hands relaxing their grip on the back of your neck and waist.

His words warmed your cheek as he pulled back an inch; his breath was shallow as he spoke, “Happy New Year, Liz.” 

You almost chased his lips, eyes fixed on his mouth, as you managed to choke out a reply.

“Happy New Year, Jake.” 

Hehe, I'm sorry for another 'almost' kiss. I promise stuff is happening soon.

Tags:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern

Part 8: Drift Away is coming Soon.

Wickett ;)

[rgbyshipper101]

Animaniacs reboot season 3 spoilers:

The humans are in the snow during this bit. So it’s possible.

Looks like snow in the background.

So they’re using this bed now. Look at those matching jammies.

Sleepeating, Wak?

The clock says 2:23. Hm…

I do like this little bit where they’re “sending” themselves to Santa.

What if the Warners have to help Santa save Christmas from Pinky and The Brain? Cause Brain’s being a grinch. More crossover potential.

S3E10

International Mouse of Mystery/Aliens Resurrected/The Stickening/Everyday Safety: Giant Adirondack Chair

Every time I look at the titles I think it changes.

Is that Mystery Science Theater? Or Independence Day? I feel like I’m way off.

P&TB are in the final episode this time. I don’t think they were from season 1 or 2.

I also feel like we’ve seen a clip from the first segment, but it can be anything.

Title card.

Same style as the last Yakko song.

This is the only one with an outline. Is it like a film reel?

Can’t tell if The Stickening is lighthearted or not.

Everyday Safety reminds me of Yakko’s Useless Facts. Cute.

On the wiki there are titles that aren’t in the episodes (or not yet) but are possible. They are:

-Murder Pals 1

-Murder Pals 2

-Murder Pals 3

-Joe

-Slappy’s Return

Don’t know if they’re actual segments.

Muppets? Something Pals sounds familiar…

Is Joe the guy and his dog?

Slappy!!!

Part 10

[canadasnowbirds]

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[my-life-on-parade]

Mark and I just returned from a four day getaway in New Mexico with our friends Mimi and Doak (and our 18 month old Chiweenie dog Spartacus, his first roadtrip). We rented a cabin in the Pinos Altos Mountains just seven miles from downtown Silver City, an awesome split level cabin, rustic and cozy and nestled in a forest of Ponderosa Pines with a long covered bridge leading to a spacious front porch (with a Ponderosa tree growing up thru the center), a full kitchen, a dining area, a living room with a fireplace and a bathroom on lower level, and two bedrooms (with king size beds and flat screen tvs) on the top level and a large covered balcony with Adirondack chairs (great for sitting with our morning coffee). We had such a relaxed stay, just hanging out, talking and laughing, listening to music, cooking meals together and drinking cocktails by the fire in the evening. One day we drove about an hour to the Catwalk located in the Gila National Forest, a half mile long suspended bridge that’s winds thru a narrow volcanic canyon high above a rushing creek that flowed into turquoise pools and waterfalls. To be honest, I felt a little uneasy walking on the bridge because I’m afraid of heights and you could see through the grates of the metal floor, but just the same it was such an exciting and amazing experience. The Catwalk was once used to access a large water pipe which transported water to a mill. Of course, we also spent some time in Silver City visiting various shops and walking along the beautiful and eerie riverfront walk which runs along the back of Bullard Street. All in all, we had such a wonderful getaway that we didn’t want it to end. October, 2024.