#millie’s treasure box

[milliesfishes]

hi bby! i’ve never sent a request in before but i had a really bad night and have just been crying #collegeiscrazy but i thought of an idea of billy or coryo walking in on reader crying and she tried to get rid of her damp + flustered face and pretend like it’s nothing but they notice immediately and drop a “are you alright? what’s wrong” and then she just cries all over again… but then comfort ofc!

anyway babes u are such a wonderful and talented writer and i love u + ur work so much 💋💋

awww lovey I’m so sorry you’ve had a hard night 🫶🫶🫶 I really hope tomorrow is better- sending so much loves 💟💟💟

also you’re so sweet thank you lovey 🫶🫶🫶🫶💟💟💟💋💋💋

If Billy walked in on you crying he would be ON IT like he’s rushing over to you and taking your hands, pulling you into a hug if you want it. He’d let you cry as long as you wanted, just whispering soothing things and trying to calm you down. And when you’re able to slow down and tell him what happened, he just cooes, pulling you back in. “My baby…’m so sorry you’re havin’ a hard time.” And if you want him to, he’d try and help you fix it later, but for now he’ll just hold you and try to make you feel better :(((

When Coryo finds you crying he’s immediately asking who did this, who he needs to punish. But you’re too inconsolable and that is not what you need to hear right now. So he resolves to hold you for now, calling up for something sweet from the kitchens. He makes you drink tea to calm you down, has you eat something too. You eventually tell him what happened, and maybe he’s secretly plotting but he doesn’t tell you that, instead bringing you close again to hold. He lets you fall asleep against him, rubbing your back and not moving an inch in fear of waking you.

[milliesfishes]

crying myself to sleep you’re so sweet to include me 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

william bonney recs

sweetest con | imagine, fluff | @tomblythismyhusband

your first kiss | drabble, fluff | @outlawdaydream

the fight | imagine, flangst | @wh0reforcoriolanussnow

exes and oh's | imagine, fluff | @saberlight1 (tw)

you're my only hope of getting into heaven | drabble, fluff | @phfenomena

protective!billy | imagine, flangst | @enviedear (tw)

helping billy when he's injured | imagine, fluff | @enviedear

brother's best friend | imagine, smut | @kisses4kaia

billy got arrested again | drabble, angst | @alienstardustwrites

fair and just | one shot, flangst | @sadisticsongbird

sharpshooter | drabble, fluff | @billysgun

unsteady | imagine, fluff, smut | @alienstardustwrites

dream a little dream of me | one shot, fluff | @percyjavksongf

real love baby | two shot, trifecta (smut/fluff/angst) | @eymie (this is part 2)

billy wants to tell her dad | imagine, flangst | @spideyhexx

jealously | imagine, flangst (more fluff) | @billysgun

playing with his fingers | drabble, fluff | @outlawdaydream

flowers | imagine, fluff | @tomblythismyhusband

trust me | one shot, fluff, smut | @atrwriting

can't handle you being in pain | imagine, flangst | @gtgbabie0

frozen in the bedroom doorway | imagine, fluff, comfort | @dead3ve

you get hurt and don't tell billy | imagine, flangst | @milliesfishes

hands | drabble, fluff | @goosita

[elderberries-and-honey]

Despite having fallen on hard times, Winifred took it upon herself to host a party on Christmas Eve with all their loved ones. Back in the workhouse, they were lucky to afford anything better than porridge for dinner. But now that she had a family of her own she was determined to make it special.

Millie, Beth and Louise could not allow her to do all the cooking alone so they each put on their aprons and happily got to work beside her. They spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen preparing for the dinner, sounds of laughter heard above whisks mixing doughs and icing frantically inside porcelain bowls.

Valerie began helping herself to the wine intended for cooking early on in the day, already causing her to become a little tipsy before they'd even put the ham in the oven. Beth of course was the first one to scold her, but with Ozzy nearby, she wouldn't raise her voice. Instead, she put her hands on her hips with disproving eyes and a scowl of disappointment. It was moments like these where Winifred couldn't help thinking that Beth truly was meant to be someone's mother.

Ozzy remained close while the women worked. He wasn't a shy child by any means and soaked up all the attention he got from everyone telling him how adorable his Christmas outfit was.

At last, nearing the hour of 7 o'clock, with everyone gathered round the table wearing their finest silks, all of their hard work would be enjoyed by all.

They set up the dining table with everything they had prepared - cranberry sauce, a charcuterie board with aged cheese and sausage, potatoes grown right on the Baudelaire's farm, delicious cookies and pies for dessert, warm spiced rum and hot cocoa to drink, and best of all, a perfectly cooked ham that was from a frequent patron of the pub that had been gifted to the McAdam's.

Everyone treasured the food, knowing full well that their meal wouldn't be anywhere near as extravagant without Millie's expertise, which they all took turns admiring. Between the spiced rum, and the thrill of Christmas only hours away, they chatted excitedly between bites throughout the entirety of dinner.

Everyone went back for seconds, some even going for thirds until all of them, even the picky eaters, left the table with their bellies full.

No one could afford to give that many presents this year but not a soul amongst them seemed to mind. They each were completely content to simply enjoy each others company. Even the children, who were eager all the same to receive their new mittens and perfectly ripe oranges. Besides, they both were still too small to actually understand that they hadn't gotten much compared to others.

Lawrence had received new cotton fabric to sew himself up new work shirts and Winifred a plethora of new ink wells and paper from the McAdams. All of them received something hand-knitted from Beth, and from Millie, beautiful cross-stich embroideries to hang in their homes.

It was a terrific haul, and certainly more than anyone could ask for all things considered. However, the most surprising of all was Lawrence's gift to Winifred - two tickets to the theater come Spring - which had, of course, been suggested by Marmee.

After all the gifts had been opened, the night carried on late into the evening. Lawrence even brought out the old music box he had been gifted for Christmas nearly two decades prior and Jackson and Louise began dancing around the living room elegantly. However, drunk on rum and holiday cheer, Lawrence insisted that he and Valerie could do better.

He and Valerie were clumsy, tromping all over the others feet and losing their place in the steps to the dance. All in good fun, Millie and Winifred began cackling as they watched them, unable to contain how humorous it was to watch, while Beth dramatically hung her head in shame.

The children began to grow rather fussy, both Ozzy and Nellie awake far past their bedtimes, and the festivities had to come to an end eventually.

Winifred and Lawrence stood in the doorway, thanking their guests for coming and helping in the kitchen, as well as all their delightful new gifts. Winifred and Lawrence watched them go until they could no longer see their silhouettes in the dark, both ignoring the cold until they could no longer stand it.

The night had been exactly what they needed to forget their worries even if it couldn't last forever. While drifting off to sleep that night, everyone would reflect on what a wonderful Christmas it was, contented to have spent it together.

next / previous / first

[rmorde]

Trigun Manga Reaction

Continuing with Volume 1, Chapter 10!

SOOOO CUUUTTTEE!!!!! Let me stare a bit first.

...

...

...

OK! I'm good! Wait... Arcadia? Huh? Noooo! Does this mean no Woof Woof yet?!

I wonder if the font for the letter in original Japanese is different too. I always like it when this is done instead of using "quotations". It's a nice touch.

Seems like the focus of this chapter are our dear insurance ladies. Love love Milly's devotion in whatever she does. She always strives to do her best in her job, but this dedication to write to each relative she has every month is just something else. I also appreciate how she is kinda treasured for her sweet nature - from Meryl's clear guidance and their boss radar gift.

Ah, Meryl. Ask for chaos and you shall receive. LMAO. However, does she have some problems at home. Just going by her lines here.

OMFG. BWAHAHAHA!!! THESE TWO PAGES!!! 😂🤣😂

I really need to buy hard copies of the manga. This must have been a page turner shock. It looks so serious from one page, but when you go to the next? HA! IT'S VASH GETTING BULLIED BY TWO SENIORS INTO BECOMING THEIR MEAT SHIELD!!! It's such a clever and funny layout.

Admittedly, this was a bit of a busy page. However:

One of my fave drawings by mangakas are when the "break out" objects or characters from the traditional panels. That gun sticking out has a nice 3D like effect.

Speedlines to show how quickly Vash went into for real real meat shield mode for the old couple. Meanwhile, that clear drawing of his hand feels like he is about to take out his gun.

Gun and nail details and... Have I mentioned before how I never really understood the beauty of negative spaces until I started reading this manga? Just something that hit me is all.

THE INSURANCE LADIES TO THE RESCUE! ROFL! Poor Vash getting bowled over. Poor Vash's spine!

Oh my.... Let me just appreciate this for a while.

They're just so beautiful. Oh my goodness. Again let me just gush about how the volume insanely Nightow is at visually communicating scale? Not to mention clothing folds and drapes!

Another fine specimen of scaling and foreshortening! And.. did Meryl just called Vash BROOMHEAD?! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Man's got a point. Unfortunately. Poor, Vash.

BWAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH!!! I CAN'T- I JUST CAN'T!!! Everyone just rolls with it for the greater good while Vash is just stressed! 😂🤣😂

Interesting set of panels:

Again with the negative space

Awww! Milly's sweet tooth and where is she exactly? I can't remember, but she must be from somewhere really stable/rich, right? I mean her family sounds big which indicates their location can support a big population. Plus, the food the she often mentions are not exactly easy to get.

Vash looking for an escape or is it?

Oh, Meryl. I love you and you usually hold the brain cell, but this one time you had been fooled! Grandpa used everything you told them earlier to lay a trap! MERYL, YOU WERE OUTPLAYED!!!

Uhuh? Oh, really? The blush makes me think she didn't think this through and is scrambling for an excuse pronto.

Also, again with that negative space! Nice because it really helps with this "transition" in the next page.

They are walking under a clear blue sky. Idk why it matters a lot to me but it does. It feels "smooth".

Huh... I wonder if Tristamp took queues from this one when they animated Meryl's joy in seeing the garden in Episode 9.

Exposition can be a slog to go through *cough*jjk*cough*. However, this exchange was not overwhelming. The lay out really helped. While some panels/boxes have overtaken by speech bubbles, there are plenty of blank spaces to make it easier on the eyes. It properly built up the last panel which made it more impactful.

This is so lovely to read and the composition is just beautiful.

Again with that negative space. There's a lot of it in the manga I realize.

It's odd to see Meryl without earrings.

Investigative Meryl Mode!

Huh?

And there we go, the rest of the Nebraska Family.

Obviously, this went really differently from the '98 anime. I don't know why I expected Woof Woof already when it's already been made obvious that both anime adaptations shuffled events around.

However, I really appreciate how Meryl and Milly got the spotlight early here. In '98, this was kinda halfway through the series. It was way waay late and Woof Woof already entered the scene.

I must say... '98 really had to get creative with the material that they had because the BDN's Arc was covered from Episodes 7-8. Then Episode 9 introduced Wolfwood. From 10 to 12 were anime originals... I think. Not yet far enough in the manga to know if they were "remixes".

Anyway, the fillers in '98 are not bad and plenty entertaining. Some of the funniest shit and badass scenes of Trigun were from those. They were great addition to the story especially since it never contradicts the characters core (sans the horn doggy-ness).

But it does screw over Wolfwood tho... just a tiny bit on hindsight. I mean if '98 is judged on its own, he is perfectly fine. However, with Tristamp giving his background (which I believe is more loyal to the manga), it is kinda odd how he didn't stuck with Vash after they met in the bus. Then again, Woof Woof has a bit of a different background in '98 which made sense... Kinda.

Augh the challenges of adapted of an on-going manga. Studio Mad had to make things up as they go, but they still did great! The inconsistency with Wolfwood is pretty minor - almost negligible... except why didn't he stick with Vash the first time? Sigh... this may nag me for a while.

Oh. Also for @revenantghost

Ok. Now I'm more excited to see more with the manga's plants.

Sorry for the confusion! When I said I prefer the 9o's version of plants, I'm mainly referring to the lightbulb design which fits the vibes of the plant angels more. It's very magitek which I really like while Tristamp uses tanks which totally make sense since its more sci-fi heavy.

The interesting thing about the plant design in Tristamp is how I can associate them with earth, sky, and water. Earth because of how they remind me of faeries, Sky because of the wings, and Water because they give me mermaid vibes as the live in their tanks. It has its own charm... but yeah magic lightbulb angel ftw!

Again... my bad for not being clear. Sorry.

I do hope we see more of the Bad Lads and eventually BDN in Tristamp properly. HARD AGREE on some lore bible or art book from Studio Orange! I think there were some supplementary materials from the limited edition DVD release tho?

That's a good way to describe Tristamp - a love letter to Trigun itself. I also respect Nightow for just letting Studio Orange do its own spin. Most creators won't be so comfortable giving other free reign in their sandbox.

Also, take good care of yourself. Make sure to get rest enough. And food! Also water!

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 22

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. But you do not have to read the others in the series to understand this fic.)

Warnings: some profanity, angst

ALSO, IT'S A LONG ONE, FOLKS lol. Sorry.

*Includes Extraction 1 and 2 canon mentions

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @kmc1989 @thebejeweledwatercat @asirensrage @theesirenteller @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @occommunity @karimac @alisbackalleybbq @ninjasawakenedmystar

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/130239049

My tag list is OPEN. Please just let me know if you'd like to be added :D

****

He lounges in the room Millie shares with Abuela. Stretched out on his side and propped up on his elbow; watching as his daughter quietly and contently plays just mere inches away. The four-year-old clad in her choice of attire for the day; consisting of a red and black button-down shirt paired with extremely bright and bold leggings with cat faces splashed over every inch. Her hair loose and unruly; falling into her eyes and over her face as she kneels in front of a large plastic tote box. Holding a treasure trove of belongings that Yaz had managed -after he and a small team had successfully broken in- to gather from Alessio’s home. Her entire collection of GI Joe dolls and My Little Ponies, more art and craft supplies, and a handful of Barbies and accessories.

“Tyler?”

He helps himself to one of the wine gums from the open carton that sits between them. Even in the midst of all of his prepping and immersing himself further in the role of mercenary, he had taken the time out when she’d requested his attention. Unable to resist that tiny voice, that hopeful smile, and those brilliant blue eyes. “Yeah?”

“Do you think that Barbie…” Millie holds up her favourite doll; baring beautiful dark skin and shimmering black hair and wearing a sparkling gold mini dress. And a matching pair of impossibly high heels. ”...THIS Barbie…would like GI Joe?”

“Which GI Joe are we talking about?”

“This guy!” She picks up the action figure in question; tall and muscular with blond hair and green eyes, clad in his fatigues. “He’s my all-time fave! The rest are just…I dunno…too basic for my best Barbie.”

“Basic?”

“Momma says that, in a nutshell, someone who is basic is VERY boring. Unoriginal. They don’t offer anything new. They can put you to sleep with how ordinary and vanilla they are.”

“She says that a lot about people?”

“Just the guys who try and date her. And you know what? She’s right. They’re basic as hell.”

Smirking, he pops the wine gum into his mouth.

Millie lowers her voice. “Momma actually calls them a bad word. Can I tell you what it is? Without getting in trouble? Or without telling her I said it?”

“I won’t give you any grief for it. And remember what I told you? About how snitches get stitches? Your secret’s safe with me.”

“She calls them ‘basic bitches.’” She dissolves into giggles, both hands covering her mouth, her eyes narrowed and sparkling. “Isn’t that hilarious? Basic bitches. It’s mean, but it’s funny too!”

“Does your mom date a lot? Has there been a lot of guys? Before Alessio? That come around?”

“No. Not really. Not a lot. Just a few. And momma didn’t date. They TRIED and date her.”

“Gotcha. So they ask her out and…?”

“And she always said ‘no’. That she wasn’t interested. She was nice when she told them that. She said just too busy with work and taking care of me. But once they were gone? She told me the real deal.”

“She told you? Or did you hear her telling someone else?”

“You’re good. You’re REALLY good. Don’t tell her that either, okay? That I spy sometimes? I hear things. Mostly when she’s talking to Auntie Nik on the phone or Facetime. Sometimes it’s Uncle Yaz. Mom thinks I’m asleep, but I’m really sitting at the end of the hall. She can’t see me if she’s in her room, and I’m hiding there.”

“This is when you lived in your old apartment?”

Millie nods. ”I LOVED that apartment. It was nice. Better than living at Alessio’s dumb-ass house. I wasn’t allowed to do anything there. I wasn’t allowed to make crafts because they were too messy, I wasn’t allowed to listen to music and dance, and I definitely wasn’t allowed to have a pet. I had a cat. Before we moved in with him.”

“Where’s the cat now?”

“Uncle Duey took her. Her name is Beatrice, but everyone calls her Bea. Like how my name is really Amelia, but everyone calls me ‘Millie.’ She’s super cute; she’s black, but she has white under her chin and near her nose, and she has white socks. We got her from the shelter.”

“You miss her?”

“I miss Bea all the time. She used to sleep with me. Every night. Right by my head. And she was a lot of fun! She would play fetch; I’d throw her favourite toy, and she’d run and grab it and bring it back to me! And she LOVED to sit in the window and yell at the pigeons that came on the balcony. I bet she would have grabbed ‘em and beat ‘em up if mom let her outside.”

“That wouldn’t have been good. What if they beat HER up?”

“Do you know who the Bowery King is?”

“I know a bit about him.”

“Momma and Uncle John know him. I only met him once. Momma took me to where he lives. He has tons of pigeons! And mom said if Bea ever got out and caught one of his birds? We would have been in big shit!’

Tyler gives a small chuckle. “I can imagine.”

“Uncle John said we would have been fine. He would have protected us. He would have told the Bowery King to take a hike! He didn’t say it like THAT, though. He said the ‘f word’. Do you know what word I mean?”

“I do. Very well. So about these guys your mom would date…”

She stares at him pointedly. And in those narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, he immediately sees himself.

“That tried to date HER,” he quickly corrects himself. “She didn’t like any of them?”

“I mean, I guess she liked them enough. To at least give them a chance.”

“What happened? Things didn’t work out?”

“She got bored with them. They weren’t interesting enough for her. And they all had boring jobs; lawyers and doctors and guys that work on Wall Street. Yawn city! And they weren’t even good-looking to make up for it! But there was one guy, though. That was pretty cool. I liked him.”

“What was he like?”

“He was super nice. He would always bring us takeout; pizza and Chinese and fried chicken and even tacos!”

“Everything is about food with you, isn’t it.”

“It’s my love language. It makes my tummy AND my heart happy. I don’t care if I get fat when I’m older. I’m gonna eat as much as I want. Whatever I want, too!”

“So this guy…”

“He used to take us to Rangers hockey games and to see the Mets play baseball. And sometimes, he’d take me places all by himself. We’d go to the movies and bowling and to the arcade!”

“Your mum was okay with that? Just sending you off with him!”

“She trusted him. He was a policeman!”

Tyler frowns. “He was a cop.”

“Not like a regular one. He wore normal clothes. Sometimes a suit and tie. And he would go to accidents and murders and stuff and ask people lots of questions.”

“He was a detective?”

“Yeah! That’s what he was! He was an alright guy, though. He was nice to me. And I think he REALLY liked mom.”

“Did he ever stay over?”

“Hell no! That’s a big no-no! Momma NEVER let that happen. She would always say that ‘Millie isn’t ready for that kind of thing’. And she was right. I didn’t want to see some guy walking around in his gitch first thing in the morning!”

“What happened? With your mum and this guy? She wasn’t into him?”

“She seemed like she was. They spent a lot of time together. It’s kinda weird, right? That he was a cop? ‘Cause momma’s job is totally illegal, and Auntie Nik is a criminal! Did you know that? That she was in jail?”

“I did know that, yeah.”

“Totally badass, right? But the guy? He found out the truth about what mom does for a living. And everything about Auntie Nik and Uncle Yaz. After that, he couldn’t date momma anymore. If he did, he’d have to arrest her.”

“That wouldn’t have been good.”

“No. But instead of doing that, he just decided not to see her anymore. He said he would pretend he NEVER found out the truth. That’s good of him, I think. ‘Cause then momma would have gotten in trouble, and I never would have seen her again. That would have made me really sad. Not to have my momma. And you never answered my question.”

“I forgot what it was.”

“Would my favourite Barbie like my favourite GI Joe?”

“What do you think?”

“Well, he seems nice enough. He’s definitely not boring. Like Ken. Ken is definitely what mom would call a basic bitch.”

“Yeah, he’s always been a drongo.”

“What does that mean? drongo?”

“Stupid. An idiot.”

“A dumb ass?”

“Basically. That’s what we call them. In Australia. Drongos.”

“Does everyone in Australia talk like you do?”

“Maybe not exactly like it. But we all have accents. They sound a bit different; depending on what area you come from.”

“And are there tons of cool words there? That you say different than us?”

“Way too many to count. Once you get settled, I’ll teach you all kinds of cool slang.”

“Will you teach me the swears too?”

“I don’t know about THAT.”

“Please? Pretty please? I want to learn the swears! I promise I won’t repeat them. Not in front of other adults or kids. And especially not in front of momma. It can just be for us!”

“We’ll see.”

“And am I really going to get to see kangaroos and koalas?”

“I get them all the time around the house. The koalas love the trees in the backyard. They’re always hanging out in them. You’ll have to be careful, though; they’re cute, but they can be nasty. Don’t go around chasing them and trying to pick them up, alright?”

Millie nods. “Momma said there’s lots of snakes there, too. Will we get to see those?”

“Sometimes they even get in the house. Then I have to grab them and take them back outside. Are you scared of snakes?”

“Nope. Momma is, but I’m not. I think they’re cool.”

“You can help, then. We get any in the house, you can be the junior snake wrangler.”

“Is it true that the spiders are the size of dinner plates? That’s what mom said.”

“They can be≥ d. They won’t hurt you, though. They’re huge and ugly, but they’re not dangerous.”

“I wanna see one. Really bad!”

“Tell you what, first one I have to relocate ‘cause your mom is threatening to burn down the house? I’ll let you hold it. Get you used to handling them. So you’re not freaking out when you see them wandering around the place.”

“So I’m not a ‘fraidy cat like mommy! When we lived in our old apartment, we’d get spiders! Just little ones, though. And daddy long legs. She was even scared of them! I’m the one who had to get them for her. And she would always want me to kill them! ‘Millie, get him! Squish him!’ Mean mom! But you know what I did instead? I saved a spaghetti sauce jar and cleaned it all out and that’s what I’d put them in. And then I’d take them outside and let them go!”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, and Tyler watches her as his little girl neatly arranges her toys and craft supplies in the bin; not having the heart to point out that all the transporting during their relocation to Australia would no doubt leave the bin in a disorganized mess. She hums while she works; a trait she’d inherited from her mother, and he’d both discovered and fallen in love with- during their year together.

Yet despite the similarities to Esme, he sees more of himself inside Millie than anything else. The identical profile -before his nose had been broken and left him with the bump in the bridge-, the same furrows in the brow, the brilliant blue eyes, the curve of the jaw line, the slim, slender neck, and long, almost gangly limbs. And it’s almost unsettling; sitting across from his ‘mini me’ with all their likeness and her resemblance in physical appearance, personality and likes and dislikes she shares with his son. Their love for drawing and crafts. Their care and compassion for animals. Their endless curiosity and love for life and everyone in it.

Sitting back on her heels, she shoves her hair out of her face “Tyler?”

“Millie?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You’ve been on a roll so far. I don’t see a reason for you to stop now.”

“It’s kinda personal. And touchy.”

“Personal and touchy for who?”

“Me. I might get emotional.”

“That’s okay. You’re human. Nothing wrong with being emotional.”

“I don’t want to embarrass myself. In front of you.”

“There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about. It’s normal; to get emotional and show and talk about feelings. Even guys like me do it.”

“Really?”

He nods. “I didn’t do it for a long time. I was always scared to. And then I met your mum, and she taught me that it was alright to show that side of myself. To get angry and sad. To even cry sometimes.”

“YOU cry?”

“Everyone does. Or everyone should, at least.”

“And mumma taught you that?”

“Your mum taught me a lot of things. About myself. And about others and how to treat them. What do you want to ask me?”

Millie releases a long, heavy sigh as she steels her emotions. “Do you think he’ll like me? When he meets me?”

“Who is ‘he’?”

“My dad.”

His entire body tenses; throat and jaw tightening, stomach clenching.

Millie continues, not noticing his sudden discomfort. “My daddy lives really, really, REALLY far away. We’ve never actually seen each other. And momma said that when I’m a bit older, she’s going to take me to meet him. And I wanna meet him, but I’m scared. That he won’t like me.”

“Why wouldn’t he like you? What’s not to like?”

“What if he thinks I’m annoying? ‘Cause I talk so much? Or what if he thinks I’m too noisy and too messy and too bossy and that I need to go live somewhere else? Away from mom.”

“Did someone say all those things? About you? Is that why you’re afraid he will?”

“Alessio. He didn’t like me being around. He said I was ‘too much’. That I needed to be taught how to behave ‘cause mom obviously never bothered to do it. He wanted to send me away. To a special school. Where I’d have to live. Instead of with momma.” Her lower lip and chin wobble as tears sparkle in her eyes. “I don’t want to be away from momma. I’d miss her too much. I’d cry all the time.”

“No one is going to take you away from your mum. You’re going to stay with her. Until you grow up and you meet some nice guy and…”

“Or girl. It could be a girl, too. That’s okay, you know. If girls love girls and boys love boys.”

“...and you have little ones of your own. Then you’ll want your own space. To raise your family.”

“But somewhere close to mom. Real close. Maybe next door. ‘Cause I don’t want to be far away. What if I need her? Or what if she needs me?”

“Then you live as close as you can to her. But still be under your own roof. No one is going to take you from your mum. She’d never let that happen. I’D never let that happen.”

“He was mean. Alessio. Mom and him fought all the time. Is it my fault? That they did?”

“No. It’s not. And nothing that happened the other night is your fault, either. You know that, yeah?”

She nods.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t cause them to fight. They fought because your mum was sticking up for you. Because she would do anything to protect you. And he didn’t like that.”

“And because he’s a drongo!”

“He definitely is. A big fucking drongo.”

Clamping a hand over her mouth, she giggles at his words.

“And why would your dad not like you? What’s not to like?”

“Because I can be super loud. And messy. And a bit too much.”

“You’re four. You’re supposed to be loud and messy. And a bit too much.”

“So you think he will? Like me?”

“No. I don’t think he’ll like you. I think he’ll love you. How can he not? You’re his little girl. His baby. So unless he’s a complete asshole…”

“He’s not. Momma said he’s a really nice guy. And momma wouldn’t lie about that. If he was a jerk, she’d say so. And she wouldn’t take me to meet him, that’s for sure.”

“What else has your mum said? About your dad?”

“Just that he lived really far away and that he was a good person with a really good heart. That she wished things could have been different and that she never had to leave. It made her sad, you know. That she couldn’t stay. It made her cry. Talking about it. I don’t like it when mom cries. It hurts my heart.”

“Hurts my heart, too.”

“And she said she loved him. Very much. And that she always would.”

He noisily clears his throat in a desperate attempt to wash away the lump of emotion that threatens to choke him.

“Do you think he loves her? Still?”

“Maybe. You’d have to ask him that.”

“Can I tell you something?”

Tyler nods.

“I’m also scared that he’ll want momma back. ‘Cause we’ll be living with you. And you love momma, and she loves you, and we’re gonna be a family, right?”

“That’s what I want.”

“But what if he wants momma for himself? And you have to fight over her?”

“I’m not worried about that. I already know I’d win.”

“I don’t want to be away from momma, but I don’t wanna be away from you, either. I want to meet him, but I don’t want to live with him. I want to live with YOU. You wouldn’t let him take us, would you? You’d stop him, right? If he tried to force us?”

“He wouldn’t stand a chance. I’m not giving you or your mumma up. You guys are stuck with me.”

“If he doesn’t like me, will you punch him in the face?”

“If you ask me too. But you don’t have to worry about that. He’ll like you. He’ll LOVE you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“And you promise you won’t let him take us? To live with him? Like I said, I wanna meet him, not live with him.”

“You and your mom aren’t going anywhere.”

“What if mom goes? If she does, can I stay with you? I’m sure my dad’s a good guy, but he probably can’t protect me like you can. He’d probably be scared of the bad guys. And he’s probably not as awesome as you. With the cool hair and all the tattoos and stuff. I bet he’s not like that. At all.”

“You won’t know until you meet him. But even if he is cool, there’s no way he’s as cool as me.”

“Oh god…” Millie gives a dramatic gasp. “...what if it turns out he’s a basic bitch?”

“No one as awesome as you could ever come from someone that’s a basic bitch.”

“That’s a really good point.”

“Your dad is going to love you. Don’t ever doubt that. And don’t ever doubt how much your mum already DOES love you. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do for you, Millie. You’re her baby. You always will be. No matter how old you get.”

“Momma always wanted to be a mommy. Did you know that?”

“I do. We used to talk about it. And we used to talk about having babies. Together.”

“Really?”

Tyler nods. “We wanted to get married. Have a family. And then things fell apart, and we broke up.”

“But if you didn’t break up, she never would have met my dad. And I wouldn’t be here.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Let’s just say that if something is meant to be, it’ll be. If someone is meant to be in your life, you’ll find your way back to them. No matter how long it’s been since you last saw them. And I haven’t seen your mum in a long time.”

“But you still love her?”

“I love your mumma very much. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And you know who else I love?”

The four-year-old shakes her head.

“You.”

Millie squeals when she’s scooped up and thrown high over his head; dissolving into giggles when he effortlessly catches her effortlessly and then tickles and lightly pinches her sides. He switches to pressing endless kisses over every inch of her face until she’s laughing hysterically; squirming and complaining that his beard is scratching her. And when he at last collapses onto his back, bringing her tiny body to rest on top of him, she wraps both arms around his neck. Noisily kissing each of his cheeks, and then beaming down at him.

“I love you, too.”

*****

After helping settle Millie for the night, he meets with Nik and Yaz in the former’s hotel room; slowly and meticulously going over his end of the extraction. Pouring over the blueprints of the hotel’s ‘bowels’ spread across the table as Yaz paces the floor; laptop in hand as he verbally rifles off pertinent information. Nik stands alongside Tyler; hunched over the papers, using a red marker to circle and isolate important spots on the map.

“The route will take you through a few different places,” Yaz announces, pausing his pacing in order to take a swig of coffee. “This is the order: secondary kitchen, boiler room, laundry facilities, and an underground bunker.”

Tyler uses the tip of his index finger to trace the path. “What’s the bunker? What’s the story of that?”

“It’s where Winston hides out during ‘intense situations,’” Nik explains. “It’s highly stocked; every handheld weapon you can possibly think of. And its corresponding ammo.”

Tyler smirks. “Something tells me it’s not your basic ‘shelter in place.’ I highly doubt he hangs out somewhere with concrete walls and bare lightbulbs.”

“It’s as luxurious and over the top as you’d expect from him,” Yaz pipes up. “He’s known to hold ‘executive meetings’ and talks with weapons dealers in there. It’s how we first met him. Years ago.”

“There’s no other way to the loading docks? That doesn’t take me right past his little hideout?”

Yaz shakes his head. “None. When it comes to the blueprints, what you see is what you get. Everything that is available to us is right there. There’s no secret passages, no hidden hallways, no indirect path. It’s this way, or no way.”

“And there’s no other options? When it comes to exits?”

“This is the safest route out of The Continental. There’s too much foot traffic if you go in any other direction. This is the only path that’s NOT heavily patrolled by security. And trust me, this place doesn’t just have regular, run-of-the-mill guards to keep things running smoothly and make sure people stay in line. They’re heavily armed. AND expertly trained. You take a different way and run into half a dozen or more…”

“Yaz and I have walked every possible path, documented every step,” Nik says. “None of them give you even the slightest chance of going unseen and unheard like this one does. It’s too risky any other way.”

“Can’t exactly go unseen and unheard if I have to go right past it. I’m leading her right to the wolves. If Winston is hanging out in there and he hears us…”

“It’s a secure room,” Yaz explains. “It’s essentially a vault; with walls thicker and more secure than anything you’d see at even the most high end of banks.”

“A bomb could go off right outside the door, and whoever’s inside wouldn’t even hear it,” his sister adds. “There is no way if he WAS holed up inside, that Winston would know you’re even out there.”

Tyler sighs. “Just the thought of taking her right past his doorstep…”

“This whole place is his doorstep,” Nik reminds him. “There’s no one hundred percent foolproof way to get out of here. In the end, it comes down to picking the least of the evils and just going with it. Hoping for the best.”

“That’s hardly reassuring. This isn’t exactly the job I want to resort to just ‘hoping for the best’. I can’t just cross my fingers and hold my breath and pray that everything’s going to work out. If it wasn’t so personal…”

“We wouldn’t have decided on this route if we had any other option. You know that we’d never put you at risk. That we’d…”

“I don’t care about me. This comes with the territory; putting my ass on the line. But taking her right into the lion’s den? And just hoping nothing goes wrong? That’s not good enough, Nik. That’s not NEARLY good enough.”

“If there were any other options, we would have found them. But this is it, Tyler. It HAS to be this way. There’s nothing else. It’s this way or no way.”

Heaving a sigh, he runs his hands through his hair and down his weary face. Stepping away, he pours himself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the window sill; his back to the others as he nurses his drink and stares into the night. And he finds himself marvelling at the neighbouring buildings; blazing pillars of light that climb high into the black canvas of sky. And in that moment, in a city of millions and in the midst of the hustle and bustle, he’s never felt so…done. Tired of the job and everything that comes with it; the danger and the unpredictability from one moment to the next. He finally feels ready; confident in the decision to -when the final mission is finished and the coast is truly clear- to walk away from it all. To concentrate on creating a normal life; pouring his attention and his energy into firefighting and running his own business. And being a husband and a father. Someone that Esme and Millie can rely on. Not just to protect them, but to provide for them.

Love them.

Nik joins him at the window, uncapping a bottle of water and taking a sip. “Talk to me.”

“About?”

“You’re unsettled. This isn’t like you. You’re usually focused. You have your head on straight. You never break a sweat. Now…”

“This isn’t a regular gig, Nik. You can’t expect me to act like it is.”

“I HAVE to expect it. In the same way YOU have to treat it like you would any job I give you. You can’t let your heart overrule your brain. It’s dangerous. Life threatening. If you start feeling too much…”

“How can I not? This is as personal as it gets. This isn’t just random people I’ve been hired to help. It isn’t my ex-sister-in-law and her kids. This is MY kid. And it’s Esme. MY Esme. These aren’t regular clients.”

“You have to treat them like they are. If you don’t…”

“I can’t just turn it off. Maybe six, seven years ago, I would have been able to. I would have been able to separate THAT Tyler from THIS Tyler. But now…”

“This was a bad idea. Getting you involved. And I told her that. That calling you was the worst thing we could do. That I had other people that could handle this sort of job and…”

“Calling me was the best thing you could have done. For more reasons than one.”

“We’re not going to talk about that. Now isn’t the time. Now…”

“You should have called me a long time ago. About Millie. You had every chance to tell me; that I had a kid out there. And the least you could have done was tell me Esme was alive. You have had every opportunity to put my mind at ease. To let me know that she was okay.”

“I already have explained. Why I did what I did. And I’ve already apologized. I’ve…”

“I don’t care about your apology. I don’t need you to keep saying, ‘I’m sorry.’ Remember when you gave me shit? For not telling you it was my ex-wife who hired me in Georgia? How you talked about not needing my apology but my trust? That should have went both ways. Because now? After everything you’ve done? Everything you COULD HAVE done? How am I supposed to trust YOU?”

She blinks, taken back by his honesty.

“I can’t do this anymore. Not even as a side gig. I can’t keep putting myself out there. Everything’s changed. The second Esme walked back into my life…”

“Don’t make any hasty decisions. Right now, you’re running on pure emotion. You’re…”

“She’s going to need me, Nik. And not like THIS. She doesn’t need mercenary me. She needs a partner and husband and a father to her little girl. And any kids that might come after that. She needs me home. Safe. She shouldn’t be watching me walk out the front door and then spending days…weeks…wondering if I’m going to walk back in.”

“You’re going to have all the time in the world to think about quitting. When this job is done and I’ve taken care of things here in the city, and there’s no more threat…”

“I don’t need any more time. My mind was made up the second I saw her. As soon as she walked into the room and I realized she was the one who hired me, that was it. I don’t need to think about it.”

“Is it what she wants? You walking away?”

“It’s what she deserves. This life? It’s not good for her. And it’s definitely not good for Millie. It’s time, Nik. This is it. No more. No more calling me and asking for favours. I’m done. And if that means you lose my number and forget I ever existed, then that’s the way it has to be.”

“That would never happen. Whether you work for me or not.”

“Esme and Millie have to be first. I made that mistake with Mia; putting the military before her and our boy. I’m not going to do it again. Not with Esme. Not with the love of my life. I lost her once. I’m not going to lose her again.”

“And you’ve talked about this? With her? You’ve…”

“We’re getting married. As soon as we can. Just something small. The two of us and Millie and a couple of witnesses. We have five years to make up for. We’re not going to waste any time.”

“And you’ll be happy? Giving this up? Entirely?”

“Maybe not at first. But it’s something I HAVE to do. I have a family now.”

“You’ve had a family all this time. Yaz and me and…”

“It’s not the same, and you know it. I have a daughter. I’m going to be a husband. And those are the two things I have to concentrate on. I need to give them a normal life. Away from all of this. They deserve better. From me.”

Sighing, she nods slowly as she considers his words)

“You’ll find someone else. That annoys you as much as I do.”

“Maybe that’s true. But I definitely won’t find someone that can do the job nearly as good as you.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to move on, too. Do something else with your life. Remember what you told me? In Austria? About how my entire life fit inside one little box? And how I should do something about it. Well, it’s taken me a couple of years, but that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“If anyone deserves a shot at a normal life…”

“And maybe you should take your own advice. You can’t tell me this is all you want. Being caught up in all of this. You can’t tell me this is the only kind of life that makes you happy? What about filling your own boxes? When are you going to start on that?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. “I’m not taking personal life advice from you. Considering the mess you made of things by getting hooked up with Delaney…”

“I know I’m not the guy who should be talking. I don’t exactly have the best track record; when it comes to women and marriage and having kids. But this can’t be it. This can’t be all you want. And don’t even try and lie; I know when you’re full of shit.”

Managing a small laugh, she reaches out to rub his upper arm. “I hope it all works out for you. I hope you and Esme go on to get married and stay that way for a few decades. I hope you have more babies. And grandbabies. I hope you get your happily ever after.”

“So do I.”

“But for now, can we concentrate on other things? On what’s in front of us? Because none of that will happen for you if you don’t get Esme out of here. If that goes wrong…”

Tyler sips his coffee. “I’ve got…concerns.”

“About the plan? The route?”

“I’m not thrilled with having to take her that away; parade right past where Winston might be hanging out. But if there really is no other choice, I’ll make it work.”

“There Is no other option. Believe me, I would have given you one if there were.”

“It’s more than that. Something doesn’t feel right. Something ISN’T right.”

“In what way?”

“Winston’s been way too quiet. Since that sniper tried to take Millie and me out. He hasn’t come up to the suite once; to see how she’s holding up. Don’t you find that a little odd? Considering he calls her his granddaughter? You don’t find it strange that he hasn’t bothered to check if she’s okay?”

“It’s more than a little odd. Much more.”

“All he cared about was the room getting shot up. Us ‘making a mess’ of things. Bringing trouble here. Other than taking the time to try and reem you out…”

“He learned very quickly. That NO ONE speaks to me like that.”

“...he hasn’t made any attempt to contact Esme. And I know that should make me happy; considering he’s got some kind of fucked up old man crush on her…”

“It’s unsettling.”

“Very. He spent how many months keeping her safe here? After that adjudicator showed up at our place, and Esme took off? Better part of a year, yeah?”

Nik nods.

“Even after that, when she finally could go on with her life, he kept tabs on her. Made sure that no one was watching her or causing her trouble. And look how fast he came to the rescue this time. When she and Millie needed a place to hide out.”

“He isn’t just seeing her as a daughter. I’ve always said it; that the way he feels goes far beyond what a parent would feel for a child. It never sat well with me; how much he doted on her and needed to be around her.”

“It’s fucked up. Not just how he feels about her, but how far he’s willing to go to keep her here. Under his thumb. And away from me. Offering me the money to walk away, threatening me, having a sniper try and take me out…”

“We don’t know that was him. That organized that. We…”

“All of that, and now suddenly he’s disappeared? Gone silent? He doesn’t give a shit about her anymore? He hasn’t bothered to check up on her or Millie? It doesn’t make sense. Something isn’t right, Nik.”

“Is that your brain or your gut telling you that?”

“A bit of both.”

“I’ve already told you to listen to your instincts; that they’re very rarely wrong. And if something doesn’t feel right to you…”

“It feels FAR from right.”

“You think he knows what we’re up to? Do you think we might have a mole? That’s tipped him off?”

“It’s possible. He could be just lying in wait. For us to make a move. Is there anyone that you don’t trust? On the team? That sat in on the plans and might have shared the info?”

“I wouldn’t have them here if I didn’t trust them.”

“If he knows what we’re up to, we’re fucked. He’ll be on us before I even get Esme anywhere near the exit. And if he knows what day and time…”

“You’re thinking he might ambush you.”

“Not just him. If he does have a small army of these highly trained security people…”

“Should we change the date? The time? We can’t change the path. There’s no other route to take. And if we’re not out of here before the deadline he’s given us…”

“How comfortable do you feel going to him?”

“It’s pretty much the last thing I want to do, but…”

“What if I asked you to go and talk to him? Try and find out what he knows. See if you can convince him to give us some extra time?”

“Stay here even longer? Tyler…”

“Not actually stay here. But put it in his head that we’re going to, then leak a fake date and time. If he thinks we’re taking off then, that opens the door for the plan we already have. Puts him off our scent.”

“You think he’d fall for that?”

“I don’t know. But at this point, I’m willing to try anything. I HAVE to get her out of here. Without him knowing. Because if he catches on and tries to stop me…”

“If you kill him, you’re just opening up a whole new world of hurt for yourself. And for Esme and Millie.”

“If he gets in my way, I won’t have a choice. Because he’ll stop at nothing to keep her here. And I can’t let that happen. I can’t let him get his hands on her. She’s not his to have.”

“The High Table will come for you. If you kill him, they won’t let you have a moment’s rest. They will track you down. And what kind of life is that? Living with that fear?”

“I’m not scared of them.”

“You should be. Because they won’t think twice about using Esme or Millie to get to you. If you kill Winston and manage to get out of here, you will have a target on your back for the rest of your life.”

“I’ve had one on my back for years.”

“Not from THEM you haven’t. Why would you want to take that risk? Having The High Table after you? Why…?”

“He gets in my way, I will take him out.”

“Don’t do it, Tyler. You may not care about your life, but it isn’t just you anymore. Think about Esme. And Millie. They don’t deserve to live with that kind of fear. And they certainly don’t deserve to lose you. You just got Esme back. You just found out you’re a dad again. Why…?”

“If he doesn’t give me a choice, I’m doing what I have to. To get her out of here.”

“You won’t be safe anywhere. Wherever you run to, they’ll follow. They WILL find you. I’m warning you, Tyler. Don’t do it. Find another way. To deal with him. IF it happens. But don’t do THAT. Anything but that.”

“I can’t make any promises, Nik. Because if he tries to stop me or he hurts her in any way…”

“I am begging you NOT to do it. To not go that route. You can’t take it back. You can’t make things right. If you take him out, you’re signing your own death certificate. You know that, right?”

“I’ll do what I have to do. To get Esme out of here. And if they come for me…”

“Not if. When. WHEN they come for you.”

“Then I deal with it. I pay the price. But you gotta promise me one thing. If that happens.”

“I’m not putting my support behind this. I can’t. I can’t give you my blessing. Not for this. I’m sorry. I…”

“I want you to take care of them. Esme and Millie. Make sure they’re alright. If I’m not around to do it…”

“Don’t talk like that. Don’t…”

“Just promise me, yeah? You’ve done it before; made sure they were safe and taken care of. I’m sure you can do it again. Promise me, Nik. That if something happens to me and I can’t do it myself, you’ll take care of my family. For however long you have to.”

“Tyler…”

“Promise me. That Esme and Millie will be okay. That you’ll keep an eye on them.”

Nik relents. “I promise. But let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.”

“Yeah…” Sighing, he turns back to the window. “...let’s hope.”

******

It’s after midnight when he returns to the suite; quietly letting himself into the bedroom and then navigating the space by way of the moonlight streaming through the gaps in the curtains. Slipping out of his clothes and tossing them in the open suitcase near the window, he gingerly pulls the blankets back and slips in next to her. A hand on her stomach as he presses his front to her back; eyes closing as he buries his face in her hair and inhales deeply. Taking in that familiar scent. Desperately needing the comfort. The closeness.

“You’re making a habit of this,” Esme teases, her voice quiet, laced with sleep. And she pushes her fingers through his; giving an initial squeeze and then tightly holding his hand. “Coming to bed really late.”

“I’m sorry.” He presses a kiss to the nape of her neck. “It ran longer than I thought it would.”

“Everything went okay? There’s no major changes I need to know about?”

“The plan’s staying the same. I’m not hundred percent on board with it, but considering there’s no other options…”

“Nik wouldn’t take unnecessary risks. With either of us. If she’s adamant that this is the only way it can go…”

“I think I’m just being paranoid. If it wasn’t you and Millie caught up in all this, I’d just go with whatever idea Nik drew up. But seeing as it’s so personal…”

“But do you feel better about things? Then you did last night? Because that spooked me; you questioning everything and not having a lot of confidence in how it’s going to go down. You’re not like that. Not when it comes to the job.”

“This isn’t just any job,” he reminds her.

“You’re going to have to try and focus. You’re going to put your feelings on the back burner and just go with your instincts. Pretend that this IS just like any other job. Because that’s what I need from you. When the time comes. I need THAT Tyler.”

“I’m fucking trying, believe me. But it’s a lot easier said than done.”

“I trust you. To get it together. When it comes to work, you’ve always been able to shut everything else out. Maybe not get rid of it entirely, but at least put it on the back burner. You’re going to have to treat this like it IS just another job.”

“You have a lot of faith in me. You always have.”

“Well, someone needs to.” She rolls over onto her side, eyes briefly closing as he places a kiss on her brow). “How DID it go?”

“It went. We finalized things. And got some loose ends tied up.”

“So that means you’re more confident? About how things are going to go?”

“Yeah…” Leaning in, he nuzzles her temple with the tip of her nose and then pecks her cheek. “...much more.”

“Everything’s going to go nice and smooth,” she enthuses. “According to plan. We’re not going to have any setbacks, no one is going to fuck anything up, people aren’t going to get in our way. Things are going to be perfect and uncomplicated.”

“When did the roles suddenly reverse? Aren’t I normally the one trying to convince you?”

“I can admit, I am usually a touch neurotic…”

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

“...and you are usually the one talking me down off a ledge. But I feel good about this. I feel like everything is going to be fine. That we won’t have any roadblocks. We’ll just get the hell out of here…”

“While I want to share your optimism, when do things ever go smoothly? On the job?”

“I mean, I’ve had a couple of gigs that weren’t major disasters. They weren’t flawless by any stretch of the imagination, but…”

“Remember Dhaka? How easy we thought it would be? After I got a hold of Ovi? That we’d get him to the boat, and we’d be free and clear? Do you remember that?”

“Unfortunately, very well.”

“Believe me, I WANT this to go nice and smooth. No hiccups, no one getting in my way and trying to stop us from leaving. I want that more than anything. But you’ve said it yourself; these people don’t accept defeat easily. They’re not just going to roll over if we DO get out of her.”

“WHEN we get out of here,” she gently corrects. “WHEN.”

“I just don’t want you putting all your eggs in one basket. It’s good to be confident and optimistic, but…”

“It can lead to bad decisions. Stupid mistakes. You get too cocky…”

“Just err on the side of caution, yeah? That’s all I’m asking.”

“Are you asking or telling? Because if it’s the latter, you’re starting your bossiness a little early. I technically don’t have to listen to you until it’s ‘go time’.”

“Who are you trying to kid? You’re not even going to listen to me AFTER that.”

“I promise I will be on my best behaviour.”

“I know what your best behaviour is. And while it’s a step up…”

“I will be completely unproblematic. I will listen to every word the big, bad, mercenary man has to say.”

Grinning, he presses a feathery to the corner of her mouth. “You are so full of shit.”

“You just want to be the boss of me,” she chides and wraps both arms around his neck. “You don’t get to wear the pants very often, but when you do…”

“I wear the pants all the time.”

“You keep telling yourself that. Everyone knows I’m the one in charge. That I’m the boss. I just let you take over every now and then. Stroke your ego. Feed your masculinity.”

“You’re just a regular bleeding heart.”

“And, there are times I DO like you being all aggressive and assertive and bossy. You have to admit, it’s always at the best possible times. The naked ones. Not even you can deny that’s your favourite time to be in charge.”

“I’ll admit to nothing.”

“You don’t have to. The evidence speaks for itself.”

“What evidence is that?”

“I’d say eleven inches poking me in the stomach, or the ass is usually all the proof I need.”

“Eleven? Come on now…”

“Ten and a half? Ten?”

“You are really good for my ego.”

“We’ll have to get an official number. An accurate measurement. I’m sure we’ll be able to track down a tape measure or a ruler when we get to Australia. Inquiring minds want to know.”

“You’re an odd duck, you know that?”

“I like my weirdness. All my quirks and eccentricities. You’ve missed them. Over the course of the last five years. Admit it.”

“I have, actually. I’ve missed a lot of things.” Hooking a finger under her chin, he tilts her face upwards; covering her mouth with his in a long, soft kiss. So pure and beautiful; nothing hurried or aggressive, nor teeming with unbridled lust or overwhelming want and need. A kiss at its most innocent point: adoring, tender, languid. Yet somehow enough to curl her toes and take her breath away.

She gives a sigh when it ends, her eyes remaining closed when he rolls over onto his back; settling her much smaller, lighter frame on top of his.

For five years, she’d longed for this; the smoothness of his skin and the hardness of his muscles. The way his calloused fingers tip continuously skim up and down her spine, his familiar scent and the sound of his voice and how she is able to feel its rumbling deep within his chest. Desperately missing him nearly every second of every day; wanting nothing more than to pick up the phone and beg and plead for forgiveness and end up in his life and his arms and his bed once again. But it had always seemed so far out of reach; believing she was past redemption. Even if he could accept her running away, there was no way he’d ever forgive her for keeping his daughter a secret. Not after the tremendous loss he’d already suffered; still wracked with guilt, regret, and profound grief when it came to the death of his son.

****

“Did you talk to Millie?” His fingertips drift down her spine and briefly settle at the small of her back; a lone fingertip commencing the tracing of the elaborate tattoo that stretches from one hip to the other. “About going with Alcott.”

“I was going to do it tomorrow. Well, today now. After breakfast.”

“I want to be there. When you tell her. I mean, as long as you’re okay with that.”

“Of course, I’m okay with it. You’re her father.”

“Only she doesn’t know what, does she? She has no clue.”

“We’ve talked about this. About when we’re going to tell her. I thought we agreed that…”

“She asked me about him today. Her dad.”

“What do you mean she asked about him? She brought him up out of nowhere? Why did she want to know? What…?”

“She asked me if I thought he’d like her. When she got to meet him. Can you imagine being a little kid and wondering something like that? If your old man is even going to WANT you?”

“No. I can’t even begin to imagine that.”

“She’s four years old. And she’s asking stuff like THAT? She’s worried that she’s going to meet him and he’s going to hate her? Find her a nuisance? Think she’s too loud and too messy and…”

“A bit too much,” Esme finishes for him. “She said that to me once. When she asked about him. About YOU. She said she was worried he’d find her annoying. I just chalked it up to Alessio being a total prick to her. I didn’t think she really felt that way. About herself.”

“She’s just a little girl. And she's carrying around shit like that? How could you have him around her? How could you put her through it? Him treating her like that?”

“I didn’t have a choice. I was in the middle of a job, and if I let my guard down or he found exactly who I was…”

“You should have told Nik you wanted out. The second he started treating Millie like that. As soon as he tried breaking her spirit, that should have been it. You should have got the fuck out of there. She didn’t deserve any of it. Being treated like that.”

“I thought we weren’t going to do this.” Moving away from him, she slaps and shoves his hands away when he tries to prevent her from sitting up. “Not here. Not right now. I thought we were going to wait until we were in Australia and somewhat settled before we talked about all of this. I thought…”

Sitting up, he stretches out his legs and leans back against the headboard. “I can’t do it, Esme. I can’t pretend that everything’s okay. That I’m not pissed off. That I’m not hurt. Do you know what it’s like? When everyone around you has a bigger role in your own kid’s life? All people tell me about is what Millie was like as a baby, all the things that they’ve done for her and with her.”

“They’re not telling you those things to hurt you. They’re just sharing what they know about her. So you can get to know her better.”

“All I hear from people is how they’re her family.”

“It’s because they are. Maybe not a conventional one, but…”

“I’M her family. You didn’t make that baby alone. And I didn’t see any of them making that kid with you either. So unless there’s someone you’re not telling me about…”

“Don’t do that. Say shit like that. I know you’re upset. And you have every right to be. I’ve never once tried to take that away from you. Or tried to downplay it. But you have no reason to question whether or not she belongs to you. Just look at her! She IS you! From head to toe. You’re just lashing out and trying to hurt me, and you know exactly how to do it.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m…”

“Just admit it, Tyler. Just admit that there’s a part of you that wants to punish me. Make me pay for what I did to you. I’m not going to judge you or hate you for it. I get it, alright? I did a horrible thing; keeping Millie away from you. And you have every right to want to punish me for that.”

“No. I don’t. I’m not like that. I’m not that kind of person. I would never hurt you.”

“I see it in you, sometimes. I’ll catch you looking at me a certain way. And I’ll see it; all this hurt and anger that you’ve got built inside of you. So just tell me the truth. I’m a big girl. I know my mistakes. I admit to them. I own them. So don’t…”

“I don’t want to fight, Esme. That’s not why I brought any of this up. That’s not why…”

“If you didn’t want to fight, you wouldn’t have thrown Millie in my face like that. You don’t think I know how badly I fucked up? Bringing her into that kind of life? You think I don’t feel like complete and utter shit for what happened? What she went through? What she KEEPS going through? You think I like any of this? Having to hide here? Having to hire a fucking mercenary to get us out here and…”

“So that’s how you see me. That’s all you see me as?”

“I never said. Don’t put words in my mouth. I’ve never seen you as JUST that. It’s part of you, but it’s not ALL of you. And I’ve never once thought it was. Who was the one who always talked you down? Every time you’d mention that you did nothing but kill people for a living? Who was the one person that reminded you that you did so much more? Who always tried to convince you that you weren’t the monster you saw yourself as?”

“You.”

“I stayed on that bridge because you deserved a second chance. Because you made your amends. And selfishly, I stayed because I wanted more of you. I wanted more time. I wanted all those plans that we made; I wanted to travel and see the world and fall in love. With YOU.”

“It didn’t exactly go that way, did it.”

“No. It didn’t. But you know what? What we had was good. It was so good. It wasn’t perfect. But neither are we. We had what we needed, and that was enough. We were happy. Weren’t we?”

“We were.”

“I love you. I have always loved you. I always WILL love you. So don’t you ever accuse me of anything else. And never…and I mean never…try and tell me I don’t love my daughter. OUR daughter.”

“I would never say that.” He slides down the bed and reaches for her when she begins to cry; frowning when she pushes him away and stands. Moving to the table in front of the window and leaning back against it; sniffling noisily as she wipes at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to be honest. I need that from you, okay? I know you’re afraid of hurting me; it’s why you won’t just come right out and tell me how you’re really feeling or what’s really going on in your head. But I NEED that, Tyler. Because until you’re truthful about it, I can’t start to make amends. How can I move on and heal when you won’t even acknowledge what I did to you?

“I don’t understand why you need me to be angry. Why..?”

“Because it’s holding me accountable. For what I did. I don’t want you coddling me and holding my hand and patting me on the head and treating me like I’m some fragile little thing. Do you think I’m not going to love you? If you’re honest about everything? Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “I guess. Maybe? I don’t want you to think I hate you. Because I don’t. I never could.”

“I know you love me. I know it without you even having to say it. It’s in everything you do. It’s like those five years never even happened. The way you look at me and the way you touch and kiss me and make love to me. It’s like none of the bad stuff ever happened. And I don’t know what I did to deserve that. The way you feel about me. Or if I even DO deserve it. But I don’t question it. Sometimes it’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

“I just don’t see what good can come of it. Me just letting it all out. I don’t understand why you need me to be out there with it. Why can’t you just let me deal with this alone and…”

“That’s the old Tyler. The one that existed BEFORE me. He’s the one that died on that bridge. You’re not HIM. And you haven’t been him in a long time.”

“Maybe I went back to it. Being him. During the last five years.”

“There’s no way. Because you weren’t happy. Being that way. Being HIM. And you worked way too hard after Dhaka. To become better and DO better. There’s no way you’d go back to that.”

“I think you have way too much faith in me.”

“I think you don’t have enough. You would never go back to being like that. I know you. I know your heart. I know…”

“You don’t know a thing about my heart. And you know why? Because you broke it. You fucking tore it out of my chest and stomped all over it. And you expect it to be what it was before you did that?”

“If you were the old Tyler, you wouldn’t have stayed. When you found out I was the one that hired you. You would have turned around and walked out, and that would have been it.”

“I would have stayed. For Millie. I would have done it for her.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. It wouldn’t have mattered. Millie or no Millie, you would have left. The old Tyler? The one with the death wish? The one who didn’t give a fuck about anything except catching a bullet? He would have been long gone.”

“I would have never walked away from her. Even if I wanted to walk away from you, I’d never turn my back on my own kid. I did that once. I wouldn’t do it again. I learned the first time.”

“Is that why you’re here? Why you REALLY want things to work with us? Is that…?”

“I wouldn’t be sharing a bed with you and fucking you. Don’t insult me like that. I know I can be a real dick sometimes, but I’d never lower myself to that. And I would never use you. No matter how pissed off I am.”

“I was just asking. I was just…”

“I’m here because I love you. Because even though you ripped my heart out of my fucking chest and ruined my life, I still want you. In every way. And maybe that makes me a fucking idiot. Maybe I’m just pathetic. A simp. I don’t know. But I love you, and I never stopped loving you. Millie? She’s just this extra piece. This fucking amazing, beautiful, perfect piece.”

“She is pretty amazing, isn’t she.”

“I would never…EVER…accuse you of not loving her. I see you with her. Your entire face lights up when she walks in the room. And every time she hugs you or tells you she loves you or even just calls you ‘mummy’? To me, you’re beautiful all the time. But when she does those things? You’re the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you.”

“She’s my baby. I had wanted to be a mom for so long. And you gave me the chance. You gave me HER. And I could thank you enough for that. For giving me her. Because aside from you, she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“I know you love her. More than you love yourself. More than you love me. And that’s how it should be. You’re an amazing mum; no one could ever deny that. Or say anything different. Everything you’ve done for her; taking care of her on your own, keeping her safe, managing to bring up this awesome little human. You know how many women wouldn’t have even had her? Considering the circumstances?”

“There was no way I wasn’t going through with it. She was my connection to you. My ONLY connection.”

“Thank you, Esme. Maybe that sounds weird; considering I AM angry and I AM hurt. But thank you. For her. I know it wasn’t the most conventional of ways to find out I’m a dad. But still. Thank you.”

“Please don’t say that. Not after everything I did. Please don’t…”

“She wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. I wouldn’t have gotten a second chance at this; at being a dad. It’s just the truth.”

Sniffling, she uses the bottom of her t-shirt to wipe away her tears. “You’ve always been nothing if not honest.”

“You broke us. What we had? You destroyed that. And you’re right; it wasn’t perfect. But it WAS good. It was so fucking good.”

“And now? You don’t think it’s good NOW? You don’t think we can get back to that?”

“I don’t want to go back to that. I want to be BETTER than that. We’re not those same two people anymore. We’ve both changed. Mostly for the better, I like to think. Do you want that? For things to be even better?”

Esme nods. “That’s all I want.”

“Then just look at me and tell me why. Why did it have to get to this? Why did five years have to go by? Why…?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

“That’s not an acceptable answer for anyone over seven, and you know it.”

“I was scared. I was selfish. I was so worried about being rejected. And I couldn’t get past that feeling. That fear.”

“I never would have rejected you. Or her.”

“Logically, I knew that. But sometimes, logic isn’t an easy thing to come by.”

“How could you do that to me? Leave like that? After everything we’d been through. After nine months in that fucking hospital. Three quarters of a year, you stayed there. You fought for me. You were the only one who didn’t give up. And then you go and do something like THAT? Just leave?”

“I wanted to protect you. You’d already been through so much. You shouldn’t even have been alive. But you WERE. And I didn’t want it on my conscience; losing you because of something I did.”

“You didn’t do anything. You thought you were in the free and clear. You were told that you were. Long before you met me. It wasn’t your fault; that The High Table went against their own ruling and came for you. You know that, yeah?”

“I think I do. I think I know that.”

“Why didn’t you just give me a chance? To get you out of that fucking mess? I would have done anything to protect you. If that meant packing up and moving thousands of miles away and hiding out? I would have done it. And if they found us, we would have packed up and found somewhere else to hide. Other people could have dealt with it. The bullshit here.”

“I didn’t even think of that at the time. I was more worried that you’d try and go against them. Physically.”

“Esme, I knew my limits. I was clinically dead a year before. Do you really think I thought I stood a chance against The High Table? Alone? I know I’m not the smartest guy on the planet, but give me SOME credit.”

“You always said you’d do anything for me. To keep me safe. Why wouldn’t I think that?”

“If you had told me what happened…with The Adjudicator…we could have talked about all of this. Avoided you taking off. But you didn’t even give me a chance.”

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“And I love you for that. For thinking you had to. But you didn’t just ruin my life when you left. You ruined yours, too. That’s not protecting me. You should have known that’s the last thing I would want. Hurting yourself like that.”

“It’s just such a mess,” she tearfully laments. “A big fucking mess.”

“And if that wasn’t bad enough? You couldn’t even let me know that you were alive. That something horrible hadn’t happened to you. Do you know what’s been going through my head? For five years? The horrible, gross shit it came up with? Even if you didn’t want me back, the least you could have done was let me know you were alright.”

“I fucked up. Badly. I’m the first to admit that.”

“And then you got Nik and Yaz involved. They’ve had to lie for you. Do you really think that was fair? Getting them tied up in this shit? All you had to do was let me know you were alright. You didn’t have to drag it on. Make things even worse.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. I thought I was keeping you safe. I had the best of intentions. I did. But…”

“Even after things settled? And there was no trouble? You still thought there was a reason to keep me safe?”

She shakes her head. “That was just me being a stupid, selfish bitch.”

“You should have told me about Millie. You know everything about me. Every ugly, deep, dark secret. I’ve never hid anything from you. Especially when it comes to my son and what I did. I was always honest about that. Right from day one. In Dhaka. And you knew I wanted to be a dad again. We talked about it. Having kids. I was scared shitless, but I was willing, wasn’t I?”

Esme nods.

“And yet you kept her from me. For five years. You knew I wanted another kid. That I wanted a chance to do things right. Yet you couldn’t even tell me about her.”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you. I WAS going to tell you. I was going to bring her to Australia. Right to your doorstep. After this job was done…”

“It shouldn't have taken this long. You know there was no reason… REAL reason…to keep her from me. Were you scared? The fact you had a kid with a mercenary? One that’s burned a lot of bridges and…”

“No! That never even crossed my mind. I knew what you were. It was never a secret. I knew what you did for a living. It’s how we MET. And I never once worried about you being her dad.”

“So it was just you being scared. Of being rejected.”

“That’s all it was. I’m telling the truth, Tyler. I know I kept a lot of secrets and I’ve told a lot of lies, and I even made a living out of doing things. But I am telling you the truth. That is the ONLY reason.”

He nods slowly, considering her words. “I believe you.”

“I am so sorry. For everything I’ve done. For hurting you like I did. And I know I can’t go back in time and change it, but…”

“No. You can’t. And I wouldn’t even ask you to. Change one thing, it changes everything. I’ve always said that.”

“...but I can spend the rest of my life making up for it. Or at least trying to.”

“You don’t have to. I don’t want you holding onto this for forty, fifty years. Or more. That’s not what I want.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you. I want US. I want to get married. As soon as possible. I want us to raise Millie together. Be a real family. That has normal jobs and fairly normal lives.”

“That’s what I want, too. I want you to be my husband. I want you to be able to be Millie’s dad. Not have to hide it. I want us to have a home and a nice little backyard with chickens and goats and…”

“And more babies. I want more babies.”

“How many more? I do have to draw the line somewhere.”

“I don’t know. Three. Four.”

“You just want to wreck my vagina, don’t you. You’re determined to do it.”

“Why would I ever want to ruin my favourite part of you?”

She gives a derisive snort.

“I’m kidding.” He holds out a hand; a silent request for her to join him on the edge of the bed. And he gathers her close when she sinks down beside him; both arms wrapping around her tiny frame as he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s not my most favourite. Second favourite, maybe…”

Laughing, she playfully elbows him in the stomach, then tilts her face up towards him. “Do you feel better? Getting all that out?”

“Shockingly, yeah.”

“Me too.”

He kisses her softly; the long and languid press of closed mouth upon closed mouth. “I meant what I said. Five years ago. When I told you that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I’ve never doubted it.”

“I will get you out of here. Away from this place. This life. And I’ll stop at nothing to make that happen.”

“I believe you.”

“You’ll never have to think about it again. It’ll just be us. And Millie. We’ll make a new life. The one we were supposed to have. Before this all happened.”

Smiling, she presses a series of feathery pecks along his jaw, then rests her head on his shoulder. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

[milliesfishes]

what a wonderful thing to wake up to 🥹🥹🥹 you’re so sweet and I really needed this to start off the day 💗💗💗💗💗💗

I’m sending love to all the blogs that live in the US. I pray for your health and safety. My heart is broken for you but please know that it is not the end and one day justice will prevail. If you need to talk or ramble about anything I’m here!

Giving you all a big hug 🥺🫶🏻❤️ especially my babes @spideyhexx and @milliesfishes

[lost-technology]

Donuts

Tri-Tober Fanfic shorts Prompt 4: Donuts Setting: post-Badlands Rumble Summary: After a disaster has hit, the best thing to do is to go get some donuts.

Donuts “Oh, good!  It’s still standing!”  Wolfwood exchanged a look with Meryl, who exchanged a look with Milly, who exchanged a look with Amelia.   Of course that would be what he could care about.  After all of the mayhem in Maca City, after Gasback’s capture and the subsequent bounty-payout distributed to all of the citizens of the city and after the most important thing: The safe return of the Plant (the sister was confused, but healthy – not a thing he could convey to his companions, but getting through this ordeal with no loss of life made Vash want to celebrate)… the little group was doing a post-disaster tour to see what was still around.  Milly and Meryl, of course, had this as a part of their job.  Amelia had her stake in what her father had wrought.  Wolfwood was fairly curious.  For Vash, this was Tuesday.  Vash’s return from the dead had been the biggest shock of the day for them all.  Wolfwood had threatened to take the emotional toll of “watching him die” out of his ass, but Meryl had been the one to make good on it with a mean left hook.  She’d punched him straight in the face before jumping into him, arms open and hugged him tight.  The girls had found him, but there just was no time for proper reactions to grief then.  And now Vash was talking his bruised face right into a bakery.  “Come on!  They’re up and running again already!  If you don’t hurry up, you’ll miss the first fresh batch!” “Is he always like this?” Amelia asked.  “Yep!” Milly chimed.  “Everywhere we go, Vash finds the best donut shop in town!  It’s like he has a radar or something!”  “It’s a miracle he’s not a lard lad,” Meryl groused.  “He’s as skinny as a twig while he eats like a hog.”   “Maybe Mr. Vash just has a high metamorphosis!”  “That’s metabolism, Milly.”  “If it’s the place he got me breakfast from,” Ameliia said, “I’m game.”  Everyone gave her a quick look.  Meryl had a bit of a glare.  “As long as they have coffee,” Wolfwood shrugged, going inside to be just about assaulted by Vash carrying a massive pink cardboard box with a fresh dozen of a colorful assortment of glazed and frosted donuts while balancing another such box in another hand and holding a big fresh glazed treasure in his mouth. 

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 41

Cw:mentions of severed heads and gouged eyes, murder, desecration of funerary urns

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @watercolorskyy @sweethoneyblossom1 @darylandbethfanforever9 @alexandria-millie @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Gif by @sheryl-lee

The court is uneasy.

Do they celebrate the victory, or do they mourn with the queen?

Aegon throws an impromptu feast the same night Lohar arrives as if they were not having one tomorrow after the tourney.

The young queen’s face is hidden underneath a veil of braids making it difficult to read her expression.

Aemma wears black satin with a blue-black ribbon emphasizing her belly.

She is showing now and would feel the babe flutter inside her like a butterfly trapped inside her.

Alicent remembers how terrified she had been when she felt Aegon quicken in her womb. She had barely turned five and ten when it happened, more girl than woman.

Aemma is eight and ten, tall as her late grandmother and will have the best of care.

Orwyle requested maesters who had forged chains in midwifery and sought a renowned midwife to be at hand given the deaths in childbed.

Princess Daella had died at eight and ten giving birth to the first Aemma.

However the birth went, the babe had to live.

Bastard as it is, it is the only way to secure Aegon’s claim and make all her suffering worth it.

Aemma would understand, any mother would give her life for the child she’s nurtured for nine moons inside her.

Alicent is disgusted with herself and yet she cannot stop sinking to new lows to continue a dream that hadn’t even been hers to begin with.

She can say she wanted to protect her children and yet her youngest stayed behind to fight in his brother’s name and looking at her with the same question in his eyes that she had as she wed Viserys.

Are you proud of me now? Do you love me now?

She won’t see him ever again; her mother’s heart knows it and yet she kissed his forehead and thanked him for his loyalty to their cause.

He is no longer her child, he is Aegon’s loyal soldier just as Aemond is.

Aemond looks at Aegon with the same envy she had towards Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra who got everything while she begged for scraps.

Aegon who has the woman Aemond loves and burns for, who has the crown and throne he has ruled for months now.

Helaena is angry.

Her home destroyed, her servants killed and so much more.

Amongst the treasures Lohar stole from High Tide is the urn in which her baby sons rested, the ashes are gone and defiled as was the Sept they were kept in.

But it had to be done, the blockade needed to be broken and their enemies weakened to prevent the city being sacked and keep the smallfolk penned inside the city from rioting.

The ends justify the means, her father was fond of saying and Alicent repeats it because its too late to turn back now.

All their suffering will be worth it when they win the war, they will see it too.

“I have brought proof of my victory, your grace.” The Lysene ordered his men to bring forth two wooden boxes with their lids lifted to reveal the heads of Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon.

Lucerys’ head has no eyes.

The whispers and the gasps overtake the court as they wonder how the king would respond, would he celebrate the deaths of his rivals or condemn the desecration of two royal princes?

Alicent cannot feel pity for them, they had kept on fighting after Aemma’s arrest, they had been bastards who had stolen Viserys’ love from his sons and the right to Driftmark from Corlys’ trueborn brothers and nephews.

Why mourn them? They were bastards anyways, the Faith said they were destined for the first of the seven hells because of the sin they were born from.

Aegon looks at his wife with guilt, but he cannot help himself but smile at knowing the bastards are dead.

They had died his enemies after all.

“And a gift for the Prince Regent.” The Lyseni said as a smaller box is presented to Aemond.

In Hightower Green velvet lay the brown eyes of the boy who maimed her son.

The justice Alicent had never gotten from her husband given to her by this godless Lysene.

The eye Viserys denied her when the misbegotten brat took her son’s eye.

The retribution against Rhaenyra she had wanted so badly since that night.

Now two of her precious bastards are dead, while hers live and thrive.

And yet, Aemond stiffened, horror flashing briefly in his eye as he looked at this wonderful gift. As if this wasn’t what he had wanted all these years, as if the bastard boy had not deserved it for taking his eye that night, as if this isn’t what he is owed.

Once he would have celebrated this with her, now he looks at his lover who clenched her fist in silent rage and tried to refuse this gift.

“The justice you were denied for so long, my son. The Gods have given us more than we asked of them.” Alicent said no longer caring to pretend she felt pity for Rhaenyra’s sons.

She takes the ornately carved box no longer caring who judges her for it.

After all it was just bastard blood shed at war.

Bastards are creatures born from lust and deceit, born to be treacherous fiends with no sense of wrong or right.

It was like killing an animal, a soulless little animal, the queen tells herself as she sees little Ellyn’s ghost hide behind a column.

The food Aegon heaps on her plate goes untouched as does the watered-down wine and lemon water Alicent orders for her.

“The wine and food tastes of innocents, mother. I have no appetite.” Helaena says for the both of them when her mother asks why she has not touched her food either.

Aemma is grateful to have her braids to hide behind.

Heleana has no such comfort as she sits beside Alicent and refuses to eat as well.

Helaena’s anger is palpable, Daeron her husband holds her hand under the table to stop her from stabbing Lohar with her meat dagger then and there.

Lohar believed the dead babes had been Corlys’ and regales them with the tale on how he pissed in the ashes of the Sea Snake’s dead children.

Helaena who has never said a cross word in her life snaps.

“Their names were Aethan and Aerion; they were my sons.” Helaena speaks up and Aegon at least had the decency to look guilty as she speaks. “They were your nephews, brother, just as Jacaerys and Lucerys were.

Gods forbid you pay the price Maegor the Cruel paid for killing his.”

Baela and Aemma share a look and know their trio of traitors has gained two new members.

The Tourney is set to begin in the late morning, giving Aemma and Baela time to corner Helaena and Daeron and show them their plans.

While Aegon and his supporters fight to gain land, Aemma and hers will eat away at his kingdom from the inside.

“We have to kill him.” Baela whispers as they hide together in the gardens. Well, not hiding per se, Aemma and Baela just didn’t want to be seen or heard.

“I know. I’ve never killed before.” The queen lies.

Baela would be on her case for not making sure Aegon died when she suffocated him, but that’s the fucking thing, he hadn’t been breathing when she left!

How did he survive that?

Baela stops in her tracks as the walk in the gardens waiting for Helaena to come. She should be here, they always come here at this hour to make sure Daenaera has atleast one hour of playtime in the fresh air.

But it is not Hel nor Daeron coming down the path.

It is the Lysene Admiral pestering some maidservant.

Baela’s sleeve hides her knife, Aemma is woefully unarmed thanks to Teora.

“This is for Jace!” Baela whispers as she jumps the larger man and stabs just as her father and mother once taught her.

She should stop her, Lohar could overpower her and kill her, but something in Aemma says differently.

“This for Luke!” Aemma has no knife, but there are plenty of rocks where they are hiding.

The blood spurted everywhere when she bashed his head with the largest rock she found, felt like an old and worn cobblestone.

It felt good, like when she killed Aegon.

“This is for Vermax!”

“This for Arrax!”

They are covered in blood and viscera when Helaena and her husband come.

“Heavens.” Daeron says in surprise, and they stop as the man pleads for help calling them every name under the sky and thinking he is deserving of mercy.

He’s not even speaking Westron now, speaks the Low Valyrian of Lys as he tries not to choke on his blood.

“Oh, do not stop on our account.” The quiet and soft-spoken princess says taking her husband’s dagger and joining in on the fun.

[milliesfishes]

u and franci are so funny literally yall write beautiful ass stories abt billy but when i saw franci talking abt billys horse cock the reactions and even them saying that was so funny😭😭 its special seeing yall be like that PLSS

THIS MADE ME GIGGLE @francixoxoxo

The duality of us:

[milliesfishes]

OH I LOVE YOU

hey. i'm curious. what made you pick that name as your alias? Please tell me cuz i think just like blog url there is a little story behind it.

[millz404]

homo

Lmao fuck you Millie

drats, i'd been bested by a scoundrel... this has led me to the decision to travel the world, looking, searching for the greatest treasure of all. japan had lovely food and mountains i could stare at for hours, but alas, nothing. i tried the cold tundra of russia, the snowy weather was difficult, yet i persevered to find it... all i found was a unique culture that filled me with wonder. i started to rethink the plan to find it, but i had hope. was the travel the treasure? perhaps. my determination unwavering, i found my way to india. i found many amazing things, had the best curry of my life there with some nice people. but no sign of it. i made my way to canada next, i bought a donut from tim hortons and rethinking. was this just a silly hunt for something that may not exist? i hope not as i paid a visit to a hockey rink. no treasure here. in spain, i had luck finding beautiful sights, amazing food, but no treasure. with one last plane ticket and barely any money, i got on the plane to germany. i looked around the cities, finding kind people, interesting yet sad museums, but no treasure. with no hope left, i slouch on a bench, rethinking this whole expedition. was it the cultures, the beauty of the world? the kind people and interesting history that shaped us? was the memories of this journey supposed to be the treasure..? a man sits beside me. he asked me where im from, and i respond with america. he nodded, and rambled on about how he found america unique.he asked me if i wanted to see a hidden gem, and i had just reluctantly nodded. he led me across town to an old home, seemingly from the early 1900s. he led me inside, he led me to a box. I looked at him with confusion, but he merely nodded at me to open it. i looked down to the old box, gently grasping the lid with shaky hands... only to find what i've been hoping for. the holy grail, what the crusades was really about. amazement in my eyes, i took a step back. the man merely laughed a bit but nodded, telling me that it was the real thing. i lightly laughed as i stepped closer again. i finally found what i'd been looking for this whole time, the treasure i traveled the world for, just for you. i finally found who asked.

[salonshop]

Art New Zealand

Upon entering Envy, visitors are greeted by a surreal tableau reminiscent of a suburban backyard, where the features are rendered inert by their display. An empty birdbath covered in moss sits in the middle of the gallery, facing a digital photograph of a domestic sparrow, the gaze of which is fixed directly on the viewer. In the corner, an empty steel-wire hanging basket is suspended from the ceiling, evoking the presence of a security camera. A section of rusted corrugated fence, sourced directly from Dr P’s garden adorns the wall, serving as the backdrop to Yllwbro’s intricately detailed birdhouse, complete with its own wallpaper.

As one adjusts to the scenery, smaller details emerge, such as Yllwbro’s replica of the Wētā Hotel, a wooden box designed to trap and display wētā insects behind a small pane of glass, similar to those used in local wildlife sanctuaries. This installation recalls 19th-century scientific plates that catalogued unknown species from the New World, reflecting Enlightenment hierarchies of taxonomy and control. Nearby, two loaves of Vogel's bread rest on a chopping board, their surfaces marked by distinctive sparrow nibbles, forming a collaborative sculpture that embodies the ephemeral interactions within contemporary gardens. 

The garden, as we know it in Aotearoa New Zealand, manifests early settlers’ anxieties regarding the progress of the colonial project. The division of industrial and domestic space (of which the garden was exemplary) was a relatively new development within European middle-class society, yet quickly became a defining characteristic of what was considered ‘civilised’ culture, a standard by which an emerging colony might be judged. Henry William Petre, the colonial treasurer of New Munster Province, assuaged the Crown’s anxieties regarding the success of the colony in a letter, directly referencing the proliferation of the manicured garden. 

This show interrogates this country’s colonial artifacts through the lineage of artistic parody and appropriation, as practiced by figures such as Francis Picabia and Marcel Broodthaers. Just as Picabia’s parodies of glamour models nullified the presence of the artistic author, A.A.M. Bos’s Birds of the Air subverts objective categorisation of birdlife through genre mimicry. Hongerwinter’s delicately arranged exhibition of physical objects utilises the readymade in the context of New Zealand’s distinctly quaint and tumbledown gardens. Its intentionality places the colony under a microscope, prompting viewers to consider the assumed normalcy of a garden’s features as laden with meaning, rather than as harmless decor.

The references to Dutch influence initially seem convivial and tongue-in-cheek: Vogel’s bread paired with Dutch Gouda is shared, yet inherent in these gestures is an invitation to reflect on the historical circumstances of the colony. As Louis Althusser suggests, art reveals what we perceive and feel—distinct from knowing—as it emerges from and engages with its originating ideology. The alchemy of each readymade work inspires less an allegorical or metaphorical interpretation and more a mnemonic device to consider the naturalisation of alienation, without requiring viewer activation as a prerequisite.

Millie Dow, Exhibitions: Wellington: Hongerwinter (Auckland: Art New Zealand, No. 191, Spring 2024), p. 45

[milliesfishes]

THIS IS SO ADORABLE HELLO??? Also I’m so honored by the tag 🫶💟🥹 you’re a wonderful Billy writer and this is like the cutest thing in the whole world 💋

one day (w.h.b)

summary: you and billy talk about what happens when you die.

pairing: william h. bonney (billy the kid) x fem!reader

wc: 3k

tags/warnings: non-descript and brief mention of implied suicide (nothing graphic i swear), other than that its pretty chill honestly, kinda sad but also happy at the end but mostly fluff and honestly pretty cute.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them! i do love to answer little things and hc's about my fics tho so if you want to talk ab this pls also drop it in the box!)

nav / billy the kid masterlist

a/n: credit to @goosita for getting my mind reeling on the concept of ghost!billy! this has been living in my mind and in my drafts for months omg

The hoofbeats of your horse underneath you set the pace for the steady rock of your hips as you make your way across the countryside on an unmarked trail Billy had memorized. One town to the next, just like always. On the run from something new that didn't really matter much to you as long as he was still by your side.

"Your name is pickin' up a lot of attention these days." You comment mindlessly, disrupting the peace of the night.

Billy makes a small sound of acknowledgment, clearly not pleased by that fact but unwilling to deny its truth.

"You know, I don't know what I'd do without ya." You add after a moments quiet, filled only by the crickets and steady slow hoofbeats beneath you. "If they got what they wanted, I mean."

"I dunno." Billy shrugs, voice slightly grim. He didn't even want to think about it; not for the sake of his own death, but god, whatever would end up happening to you.

"I'd follow you, I think." You say quietly, looking up at the stars.

He quickly shakes his head, expression tightening further. "Don't say that."

"You may not like it but it's true." You argue gently. "I ain't got much else to do here. What would I do, wander the west like now but all alone, sad and mopin' and waiting on the day death comes for me so I can see you again? I think I'll pass."

"Well there's not much use in you wandering around mopin', you gotta... I don't know, go out for trail rides, find some good friends. Hell, maybe settle down and get married." He suggests with a slight laugh.

You look over at him, raising an eyebrow with a slightly smug smile. "We both know that ain't ever gonna happen. So you see what I mean, then. I just decided to... skip the mopin' part."

Billy gives you a deadpan look, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "Oh, so you're just takin' the efficiency route, is that it?" he quips, his tone laced with annoyance. "No more mopin', straight to the grave with ya."

"Yes." You nod, and after a moment a small smile pulls at your lips. He was upset, of course he would be, but you know he won't stay mad at you for long. "You know, it would be real romantic, I think. Sharin' a grave. We could just be cuddled up forever; I can't think of anything better. Of a better way to go. Can you?"

"I can think of somethin' better," Billy mutters in response, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not havin' to share a grave until we're both old and grey, and dyin' peacefully in our sleep. That'd be a hell of a lot better, darlin'."

"It would." You agree, smiling over at him. "And when the time comes I'll rest easy. But, ah... the life we live..." You shake your head slightly, looking down at the worn leather of the saddle under your thighs that has served you well for most of your life.

"You're somethin' else, you know that?" he says, his tone affectionately exasperated. "You had this whole... plan all figured out, and you were just gonna go with it without even complainin'? Not a care in the world, just ready to join me in a premature grave."

"Yeah." You answer softly, smiling as you look over at him in the dim light your eyes have well adjusted to. "I love you, Billy. I'd do anything for you."

Billy's expression softens further, and he gives you a weary smile. "I know you would, darlin'," he says quietly. "And I love you too. More than words can say. I just..." He sighs, shaking his head slightly. "I just don't want you givin' up on your whole life if somethin' happens to me. I ain't worth you sacrificing everything, love."

"If I had anything left to sacrifice, you would absolutely be worth it." You tell him, shaking your head. "But it doesn't matter, because I don't. I've got nothin' except the very thinly veiled hope that maybe one day I might be happy again without you. And that... I don't feel good about those odds."

Billy's heart clenches in his chest, a pang of pain and sympathy filling his chest and his heart in a way that makes him feel stiff all over. "Darlin'... you gotta know that ain't true," he protests, his tone earnest. "You're smart and beautiful and kind. You could have a good life, with or without me. You just gotta-" But he falters, realizing he's not convincing you. His expression falls with a sigh.

"Those are all real nice things to say, and I appreciate it." You tell him genuinely, smiling sadly at him. "But think of it this way, it doesn't matter much now, does it? We got you out of the jailhouse for now, so we hopefully got a long time before death comes for us. And god forbid it does come early, I'll still be a young and pretty ghost, that would be nice, wouldn't it? I dunno what I'm gonna look like when I'm old, but I've had older ladies tell me I'm gonna wish I looked like this forever. If I was a ghost, I could." You say cheerily, trying to make him feel a little better about it.

Billy can't help but chuckle at your response, shaking his head at the audacity. "Only you would look at bein' a ghost as a positive thing, darlin'," he teases, his tone affectionate. "Most folks would find that pretty darn scary, you know. But then again, most folks ain't you."

"Well, I picture that we would look just about the same. Maybe a little pale, like that time we both had the flu last year." You giggle, looking over at him again and ignoring his secondary comment. "But everything else would be pretty much the same. We could read ghost books and dance to ghost music and just be together without fear of losin' each other ever. I think it would be kinda sweet."

"You make bein' dead sound like a walk in the park," he teases. "Like it ain't nothin'. Just floatin' around as spirits, listenin' to ghost music and readin' ghost books. Maybe playin' some ghost cards, even."

"Ghost cards!" You grin, pleased that he was going along with it. "You think the ghost cards are transparent like we would be? Would make it kinda hard to play poker."

Billy can't help but smirk at your enthusiasm, amused by your excitement. "I don't know, darlin'," he says, playing along. "Maybe ghost cards are made of some special ghost material that ain't see-through, but still lets us float right through 'em. Or maybe we just play ghost poker blindfolded, make things a bit more interesting."

You laugh at that, shaking your head. "Billy, if the cards are ghost cards we wouldn't go through 'em. We would only go through things on this side. Walls, living people, that kinda thing. I think ghost stuff we'd still be able to touch like normal."

"Right, right," he says, playfully rolling his eyes. "I keep forgettin' you're the expert on ghost things, darlin'. I'm just a livin' person, what do I know? But hey, if we can touch ghost stuff, that means we could probably hold hands. And I gotta say, bein' able to hold your hand as a ghost sounds mighty nice."

"Of course we could hold hands," You say, smiling as you glance his way again. "Just like now, I'd hardly ever stop."

Billy grins, reaching out to take your hand in his across the gap between your horses, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'd be holdin' your hand all the damn time, darlin'," he says, his tone playful. "Ain't no way I could go more than five minutes without holdin' onto you. You'd have to pull me off of ya."

"Maybe, but I never would." You shrug, feeling fuzzy inside from the feeling of his warm hand around yours. You had to slightly lean his way to reach him while you rode side by side, but you didn't mind. Just like always.

"That's good, darlin'," he says, his tone soft and affectionate. "Cause I'd never want you to let go. We'll hold hands for eternity, you and me. Ain't nothin' better than bein' close to you, love."

"Forever." You agree with a small smile. "And in a hundred years, people will come to our grave talkin' about the infamous Billy the Kid and his girl whose name was lost to time- and if you go behind the old saloon at night you'll see 'em still holdin' hands, hear 'em laugh. On a good day, maybe they'll even kiss." You giggle through a whisper, lightly swinging your joined hands.

Billy chuckles, a broad smile spreading across his face at your description.

"Oh, I like the sound of that, darlin'," he says, his tone light and almost excited. "People comin' to visit our grave and talkin' about us in hushed whispers. Seein' our ghost hands holdin' each other, hearin' our faint laughter. Maybe some young lovers will come to the grave and kiss, thinkin' it brings them good luck. Ain't that romantic?"

You let out another soft sigh, nodding in agreement. "And we can watch with ghost popcorn and place bets on whether or not they'll last."

Billy laughs at your suggestion, his eyes lighting up with amusement.

"Ghost popcorn and bettin' on lovers' fates? Darlin', you've got all the best ideas," he says, grinning. "That sounds like a pretty good way to spend eternity if you ask me. Cheerin' on the young 'uns and seein' if they make it or not. And I'll be bettin' on them to make it, every time. I'm a bit of a romantic at heart, after all."

Your smile shifts into a small happy pout. "That's sweet, baby." You say softly. "But I'll be lookin' out for red flags on 'em. And if he gives me any kind of strange feelin', I'm gonna whisper in her ear to run. And then, that'll be part of it. "Billy's unknown girl sure knows how to pick 'em right," they'd say."

"Well, we'll make an excellent ghost power couple, then," he teases. "You pickin' out the bad ones and me rootin' for the good ones. We'll be like matchmakers from beyond the grave. And I gotta say, the thought of people talkin' about 'Billy's unknown girl' and her ability to pick 'em right is definitely somethin' I can live - or rather, die - with."

You nod happily. "May take a while for people to trust me, but kids'll catch on quick." You say with a shrug. "Some young girl will be talkin' to her friend about her new boyfriend who she's not just sure about, and her friend will tell her to bring him to our grave. Because her cousin came to us for a kiss of good luck, and she swears up and down that she heard a girl whisper in her ear tellin' her to run from him and she didn't. Then she found out he'd been cheatin' with the preacher's daughter the whole time. I can see it now."

"You've got it all figured out, baby," he says. "Word'll spread soon enough, that our grave is the place to come for relationship advice. And once people hear about you whisperin' in girls' ears, they'll be beggin' to come visit us. Maybe they'll even start leavin' offerings for us, like we're the ghost gods of love and romance."

"Yeah. Flowers for me and bullets for you." You grin, very pleased with this story you've spun up for yourselves.

Billy grins back at you, amused by your suggestion. He looks ahead again, feeling the weight of the reins in his free hand as he looks at the long and endless path ahead. It feels almost lighter than what he's used to.

"Sounds perfect to me, darlin'," he says, chuckling. "I'm sure our grave will be the prettiest in the cemetery. You'll have flowers galore, and I'll have bullets stacked up like a fortress around me. A fitting tribute for the outlaw and his love, don't you think?"

"I think so." You smile, giggling as you think about him sitting on some kind of ghost throne made of bullet boxes. The idea of him having some kind of legacy left in a way people would want to honour instead of condemn makes you happier than just about anything else could. He was a good man, and no one these days knew that.

"I doubt anyone will know much about me, but... I'm not sure I mind." You say after a moment.

Billy shakes his head, his expression fond. "Darlin', trust me, people will know all about you," he says firmly. "They'll know you were the gal who loved the infamous Billy the Kid, who wasn't afraid to risk herself by sneakin' into a jail at night for him. They'll know you were the gal with fire in your eyes and a sharp wit. The gal who saw the world through different eyes, and wasn't afraid to speak her mind. People ain't ever gonna forget you, love."

You smile a little bit, nodding as you look back at the trail ahead. "I hope they bring my sunflowers." You say softly, rocking steadily with the movement of my horse. "Or drawings of horses. I wanna see these girls' horses in exchange for savin' them the trouble of a cheating man." You giggle. "And I hope they think I was pretty. I think that'd be pretty sweet."

Billy's smile grows and he slightly shakes his head. If anything of your memory could last, to him, it would be your beauty. Your absolutely enchanting gaze, the way your hair seemed to shine in the sun, and that smile that could brighten even the darkest of nights. No one knew him quite like you, but any man would be a fool to not see how lovely you were.

"Oh, darlin', I've no doubt they'll bring sunflowers and pictures of horses," he says. "And they'll think you were the prettiest girl who ever walked the earth. They won't even need to have seen a picture of you to know it, they'll just know from the love and loyalty you had for me. You're gonna be the stuff of legends, honey. The mystery girl who brought the infamous outlaw to his knees."

You look over at him again, a soft smile on your face. "I sure hope they don't see that literally." I giggle.

Billy chuckles, his expression amused at the subtle implication. "Oh darlin', I could think of worse things to be remembered for," he says playfully. "Maybe they'll even start a tradition of young girls bringin' their boyfriends to our grave and havin' them kneel down in front of you. Like they'll be thinkin' you're the goddess of love and loyalty, blessin' their relationships."

"Sure, but then I'd have to turn to ask you if they were doin' it right." You giggle. "If I should give them my blessings or not."

"Well, I reckon I'll have to take on the role of your faithful advisor then," he says with a bright laugh. "I'll be sittin' right by your side, watchin' as they kneel down in front of you. And if any of them don't look serious enough about their girl or if their form is off, I'll be whisperin' in your ear. Tellin' you to make 'em kneel a little longer."

"Nah, you gotta tell that to her- not to me. I can't make 'em do anything, but if he's good for her, she'll be able to make 'im listen." You shrug. "If he's good, if he's anything like you, he'd rather listen to her than to a ghost."

"You make a fair point, darlin'," he says with an amused grin. "I suppose I could whisper into her ear instead. Encouragin' her to stand up for herself and make sure her man's treatin' her right. And if he's anything like me, he'll listen to her and only her. But I still think I'll get a kick out of watchin' those boys kneel at your feet, darlin'. Just seein' a little bit of my influence in the world."

"I dunno if I need other boys kneelin' for me." You say, scrunching up your nose a bit at the thought. "I think I'd rather it be you."

Billy laughs, his eyes gleaming with affection. "Well, darlin', I think I'd prefer you have me on my knees anyway, and only me," he admits, his tone playful. "But the thought that young fellas comin' to our grave and kneelin' in front of you to ask for your blessing, it just makes me feel a little... proud. Like my love for you will keep on goin' even after we're gone. People ain't gonna forget about us, darlin'. They're not gonna forget about you."

You let the quiet sounds of the night overtake you after that, riding along the outskirts of an unfamiliar town by now. You can see the buildings in the distance, squinting a little at the abundance of bright lanterns. You wonder if they're celebrating something, but you're not quite close enough to hear.

"Hey, look at that." You say, gently tugging on his hand before letting go and pointing over toward the lights in the distance. "You ever seen somethin' like that before?"

"No, baby. I haven't." Billy answers, squinting a little as well and leaning forward to see past your shadowed silhouette. "They've sure got some bright lanterns over there. Maybe they're celebratin' somethin'."

"Maybe." You agree quietly, shrugging it off and continuing on.

It's too dark to see well enough, though, and you're both too distracted by the lights of the town as you pass by the Old Fort Sumner cemetery on your other side, careless and ignorant of the grave sight fifty or so feet away. Caged up, covered in bullets and flowers and coins- offerings for the Bandit King and his girl, who died as they lived.

Occasionally, on dark and clear nights like this, the local kids would claim to hear laughter or see the young couple on their horses riding through the country, just outside of town. No one was lucky enough to see the echo of them tonight.

follow my library for notifications when i post something new! @runningfrom2am-library

but i will tag a couple of my favs bc you guys write SO well for billy and i love it and reading all your stuff inspired me to finish this up and actually post it so thank you :')

@milliesfishes @francixoxoxo ily xx

[maciek-jozefowicz]

The table of contents for my new book “My Silly Puzzles” takes up three pages. It grew. What I originally intended to be a 200-page book bloated to be a 600-page brick. Ideas kept on coming and I was having too much fun to stop them.

An Elementary Intro, Math Test, Bloody Red Paint, A Test Just in Jest, Treasure or Truth?, Plato and a Sweet Potato, The Lion and the Mayan, Who Ate Karate Kate?, Boxes with Silver Sockses, Can You Finagle into a Bagel?, Tombstone Hues, Three Guys, Seven Wooden Boxes, Poetry Paths, The Escape, Two Witches with Glitches, Nudes in Bright Moods, Daisy Goes A’Kissin’, Damsel in Distress in Her Wedding Dress, Secret Notes, Whose Babies?, Ticktionary, A Crook in a Book, Reading Test, The Toilet Paper Caper, Adam & (St)Eve?, Gender Bender, Weird Addition, How Many Goals?, Of Villains, Victims and Heroes, Bad Luck, Stadium Stuck, Neighbors, Spooked, Most Wanted

Rock Band, Banned, The Revel Rebels’ Secret Pebbles, Captain Curtain and the Seven Chests, Who Loves Tim?, Venn Diagrams, The Bad, The Good and the Misunderstood, Countdown, Perplexions, Who’s Got Kenny’s Teeth, Fishing, Bernice and Her Three Scales, Three Guys in Disguise: Sherlock Holmes Mysteries, Monique, Missing in Mozambique, Where is Milly’s Head? A Doll House Mystery, The Apartment, Louise and Her Olde Knees, Who Stole Grandma’s Cookies?, Nine Fragments

The book is now available from Amazon in digital, paperback and hardcover formats. (I prefer the paperback.)

https://www.amazon.com/author/maciek_jozefowicz

[iliveiloveiwrite]

hi millie!! for a moment with millie could i get Misc. 8 and Fluff 6 with Fred Weasley please?! thank youuu :D !!!

Say The Word

Misc 8: handwritten love letters // Fluff 6: “Just say the word and I’m yours.”

Fred Weasley wasn't subtle. He was brash, loud and funny. He wasn't one to hide his emotions; he often got caught up in the tide that washed away common sense. 

However, when Fred realised his feelings for you, he found himself not wanting to confess immediately. He wanted to make sure; there was something about you that had him wondering whether he had found his forever in a person. He didn't want to dive all in.

So he began delivering handwritten love letters to your shop. He’d post them through your letterbox on his lunch hour; deciding resolutely that George was not going to find out his plan to protect his dignity. 

He didn't hide the love letters from you. He knew very well that you knew it was him who was posting the missives through your letter box, but Fred wasn't going to push. He was going to let you figure your feelings out in your own time. There had been a spark between you both at Hogwarts, but nothing came of it when the war began. 

--------

You treasured the notes. You kept them all, often taking them out and rereading them, committing to memory the words, but also the way that Fred dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s. 

The notes lay sprawled on the counter; not incredibly long, but long enough to make your heart race and a love struck smile to appear on your face. 

“I remember the night of the Yule Ball. I think that was when I knew that what I felt for you was romantic. I couldn't take my eyes off you the entire night.”

“I’m not terribly romantic, but the sight of a smile on your face makes me want to recite poetry.”

“You bring a part of me back to life. I hear you laugh and I’m no longer haunted by the war, I’m rather in heaven with your happiness.”

“I’ve often dreamed about what it would be like to wake with you in my arms. I imagine it to more than perfection.”

“Roses are red, Violets are blue, I seem to have found myself infatuated with you.”

The letterbox clinks shut; the sign of a new love letter.

“Just say the word and I’m yours,” is written on the small piece of parchment. Seven words in barely legible scrawl and it sets your heart pounding in your chest, unable to find a rhythm to suit the excitement thrumming through your body. 

You find yourself running through Diagon Alley; feet slapping loudly on the cobblestones as you all but shout and beg for witches and wizards to move out of your way. They soon clear a path for you; the expression on your face one with such hope written across it that no-one wanted to be the person in your way. 

The door to the shop stands out loudly against the muted background of Diagon Alley. It’s hard to miss as you slow your pace; nerves beginning to get the better of you. 

“I’m yours,” You state bravely, stepping further into the shop, closer to the redhead that has occupied your mind with every hand-written letter. 

“What?” Fred asks, whatever product in his hands falling to the floor as his hands fall lax from the shock of your declaration.

“I’m yours,” You repeat. “Today, tomorrow, forever. I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”

For a moment, Fred doesn't move. Then, he’s launching himself across the counter and gathering you up in his arms so quickly you haven't had the time to move a single muscle. 

“You’re mine?” He asks, eyes searching for an answer you know he’ll only find in your heart. 

“I’m yours. Are you mine?”

“I’m yours,” He confirms, “Always have been.”

(jess, omg how are you? thank you so much for sending something in. I adored this so much. I hope you like!)

[oldhollywoodfilms]

Here's our TCM picks for the week of Nov. 16, 2020 (FYI: We changed this week’s live-tweet from Body and Soul to Duck Soup because of a cable outage in our area).:

1. The Diary of Anne Frank (1959) at 8 pm ET/5 pm PT Monday, Nov. 16: This well-crafted drama about a young Dutch girl (Millie Perkins) who, along with her family and a group of strangers, hides from the Nazis during World War II is a powerful reminder of the very real human tragedy of The Holocaust. Star-of-the-month Shelley Winters won an Oscar for her role as the mother of Anne's love interest (Richard Beymer).

2. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) at 5 pm ET/2 pm PT Tuesday, Nov. 17: A daytime lineup of films starring old Hollywood icon Humphrey Bogart starts out with The Petrified Forest (1936) at 6 am ET. But if you only have time to watch/DVR one film, then make it this modern Western featuring Bogie's great performance as greedy miner Fred C. Dobbs.

3. Body and Soul (1947) at 8 pm ET/5 pm PT Wednesday, Nov. 18: This boxing film starring John Garfield as pugilist who punches his way out of the ghetto is one of the great noirs, and a masterclass in the art of cinematography and film editing. 

.4. The Animal Kingdom (1932) at 8:30 am ET/5:30 am PT Friday, Nov. 20: If you're in the mood for a good old Hollywood melodrama then tune into this pre-code soaper about the love triangle between three arty types (Ann Harding, Leslie Howard, and Myrna Loy).

5. Duck Soup (1933) at 9:30 pm ET/6:30 pm PT Sunday, Nov. 21: End the week with a hilarious trip to Freedonia courtesy of the Marx Brothers' sharp satire on the absurdities of authoritarianism. There are lots of classic moments, such as the famous mirror scene and Groucho's "proposal" to Margaret Dumont.  We'll be live-tweeting along at https://twitter.com/oldhollywood21 on Sunday night