#there’s no tellin where we’ll go

[leafdoodles]

Hermit a Day May #24 - Friends of Hermitcraft (Skizz)

The Imp and Skizz podcast theme song plays in my head constantly

[2knightt]

Do you think u could write abt the gang being (separately) absolutely obsessed with the reader. Like they adore everything she does, they can’t get enough of her. To the point where the rest of the gang starts releasing them abt it, meanwhile reader is like completely oblivious lol

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ heaven and hell were words to me.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! the greasers are totally obsessed!

tags/warnings: no confessions—just the gang having a crush, gang being literally whipped, them being a little odd, kinda toxic!johnny LFMAO, nothing else to my knowledge

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m just working…working hard so i can please you.(shout out to ema/corvyes/loml for that ref.) but if i get a req asking me for like the gng confessing to you—i will do it. trust.

Dallas Winston

WHEN HE’S DRUNK, YOU’RE ALLLL HE TALKS ABOUT LMFAOOOO

“i’m tellin’ you—there ain’t a girl like her.”

dallas would repeat after what felt like this 5th drink of the night. buck is sick of him, two-bit regrets dragging him along, and dallas just wants to tell them how good you looked today.

when he sees you walking home, to school, or to work he WILL tag along. HE DOESN’T GAF IF YOU TELL HIM TO TAKE A HIKE!

actually, he kinda does. you’re like the only person he listens to.

LMFAOOO THE GANG THREATENS TO CALL YOU OVER WHENEVER DALLAS IS DOING SMTH STUPID

like whenever you threaten a kid ur gna tell santa.

“dallas, i’m gonna tell y/n what you did last week.”

“??if you do, i’ll beat your head in, soda.”

“YIKES..i’m gonna have to tell her that too…”

“…don’t, she’d be so mad at me😔😒.”

THE GANG TEASES DALLAS THE WORST(besides ponyboy) ABOUT YOU LFNAOAOAOAO

like they’re shoving him toward you, nudging him at even the slightest mention of you, giggling as they tell him they seen you today.

“look, it’s your girlfriend.”

“steve, shut up! she ain’t deaf!”

—

“GO SEE HER!”

“OW—i mean—hi, y/n.”

“did you…trip? or did you mean to bump into me?”

“yeah, sorry or whatever. some IDIOT back there pushed me.”

—

“guess who i saw..🥰🥰”

“who?”

“your wife…”

“can you NOT.”

despite all that, you somehow, still don’t know how he feels about you. how? we’ll never know. it’s beyond the human mind.

his friends try and hint at you that the big, bad greaser has a school girl crush on you. do you get what they’re trying to say? no. but that’s okay, you’re just a girl.

lowkey pisses dallas off but that’s okay cuz he prefers admiring from afar. DOES HOWEVER ASK YOU TO HANG OUT AND CONSIDERS THEM A DATE IN HIS HEAD TO KEEP HIM SANE LFMAO

“you wanna go see this drag race tomorrow?”

“sure! i don’t have work then. uhm, pick me up at my place!”

“alright, cool.”

‘yeah..,it’s date🥱😍’ — dallas’ brain.

Johnny Cade

‘johnny, if you even fucking stutter when you talk to her today—you’re gonna have to drink pickle juice.’

“oh, hi. i didn’t see you there, johnny. ‘m sorry.”

“o-oh—it’s alright.”

‘well, shit.”

he thinks he looks like such a fucking loser when he talks to you omfg😭😭

the gang tries to tell him he might have a shot but he thinks they’re just telling him that because he’s their friend. :(

HEAVILY admires from afar. like seriously he’s a fucking stalker

WAIT LMFOAOO HE’D BE THE TYPE OF GUY TO ACCIDENTALLY STALK YOU LIKE HE’D FOLLOW YOU PLACES FROM AFAR LMFAOAOAOOAOA

what a little freak

anyways

he accidentally lets things slip to let you know he’s better than any other guy trying to go after you. like if you had a shitty ex—he’s preaching that he’d ‘never treat you like that, he can’t imagine that a guy with a brain ever would.’

johnny does everything to keep your attention on HIM and nobody else when your friends try and talk to you when you two are out together. like you could be having a conversation with him and he’d be just pouting in the background with his arms crossed.

“y/n, look. they got that shirt you was talkin’ ‘bout. let’s go check it out. c’mon.” “oh—alright! bye, viv!😊” “yeah, bye viv.😒”

side eyes the gang whenever they bring you up in conversation

“johnny and y/n sittin’ in a tree—“

“😒🤨”

“alright.”

he tries to subtly hint that he really likes you and that you’re his type but it’s not subtle at ALL.

“y’know, if i were to have a girlfriend, i’d wish she was like you.”

—

“my type? uhm, it’d probably be someone-“ and he goes on to describe you.

Ponyboy Curtis

‘holy fuck that’s literally y/n walking towards me??!! does she know i’m here—does she even know me-wow she looks good in red. i mean—SHE’S WAVING OH MY GOD.’

HE IS SUCH A WRECK I CANTTT

ponyboy is the type to stare off into space in your direction and dream about how well he’d treat you if he was your man!!

yk how bitches be like ‘my man, my man!’ whenever they talk about their crush?? he’s all ‘my girl, my girl!’ WUAGRMRNEE

the gang was so confused on why he was so eager to go to school all of a sudden?? and why he cares about his appearance just slightly more than usual?? …is that soda’s shirt he’s wearing?-

two-bit was the first one to realize what was happening when he seen ponyboy and you talk in the halls. that wasn’t the giveaway, though.

it was the way he stared at you like you were the only girl alive and everyone else was just gone. two-bit was almost moved to tears to see ponyboy all grown😞😞!!!

“is tha’ your girlfriend? that why you couldn’t wait ‘til monday?”

“shut up!”

“ouuu, wait until the gang hears ‘bout this!”

“YOU AIN’T TELLIN’ ‘EM NOTHIN’!”

ever since — it has been hell on earth for ponyboy. dallas brings you up every time ponyboy gets smart, johnny giggles at every kissing scene at a movie nudges him, soda and darry had to give him ‘the talk,’ (soda just made it worse by making snide remarks.) and steve never stopped poking fun at him.

two-bit tried to get you to spill the beans on how you felt about him, but all you’d do was huff and ignore him. FINE THEN😒!—is what he always thought.

soda, johnny and two-bit all let ponyboy rant about you.

“LIKE, BRO. my girl, my girl! she’s so cute and smart. LIKE SHE’S TOTALLY MY DREAM.”

—

“that’s so cute ☹️” - soda

“SHE WANTS YOU SOO BAD” - two-bit

“just go tell her, man.” - johnny

does everything to impress you stoppp 😭😭!! pony is trying harder in school, using less hair grease, wearing darry’s cheap cologne when he’s not looking, etc.

HE’S SO SILLY I LOVE HIM!!!

Sodapop Curtis

delusional king!!! yes soda, let the voices in your head tell you that she wants you so bad!!🫶🫶

swear to goddd he thinks y’all are meant to be. you tipped him when he was working at the cash register and he was sooo in love

sorry in my head he’s a hopeless romantic

cause a) you were gorgeous, b) kind enough to tip him, and c) most likely rich💯💯

when he seen you at random places with your friends—soda would get so excited LMFAOOO

STOP HE’D HOUND PONY FOR YOUR NAME

“bro they probably go to your school—just lemme look at your yearbook!”

“no??? you weirdo???”

“please??!! i’ll do the dishes or something!”

“….get me a pack of cigarettes and i’ll tell you.”

“OKAY🥰🥰”

stole them but pony never said how to get them so who gaf!!!

SODA WOULD TOTALLY WRITE YOUR FIRST INITAL + HIS LMFAOOAOAOAOAA

or he’d see who’s last name went best with curtis or your last name!!!1!1!1

he’s crazy insane over you did i say that already

whenever you come by the dx—he’d give you shit for free while you insist to pay.

“jus’ take it.”

“i can’t—i’d feel terrible.”

“it’s alright, no one has to know. right?”

he’d flash his million dollar smile, pushing your coke and chips close to you, inciting you to just take the food.

WAJENEDKD he wants u so bad it’s. so terrible.

steve hates his rambles

“YOU SHOULDA SEEN THE WAY ME AND HER WAS TALKING—SHE’S SO INTO MEEEE”

“yeah, she wants you!!! shut up now!!”

Darry Curtis

nobody knows. it’s like a top secret only darry knows. the gang has their suspicions but they can never really know why darry is suddenly so adamant on going to go get him, soda, and pony’s hair done at the salon.

they alllll can see that he only really talks to you—but at the same time he does that weird ass dad stance where they stand with their arms crossed and legs far apart LMFAOOOOO

darry thinks you’re like…model fine btw.!!!!!

BROOO WHEN YOU LIKE UNCONSCIOUSLY MASSAGE HIS HEAD WHEN YOURE CUTTING IT—HE’S SOO READY TO JUST ASK YOU OUT

darry doesn’t know what it is but goddamn!! you have him in a spell!!

“c’mon—we gotta go to the salon again.”

“….we just went?”

“TWO WEEKS AGO. it’s about time we go AGAIN.”

does in fact work a little extra just so he can see you. he’s that much of a loverboy i fear.

HE DOES ACTUALLY NOT WAIT TO ASK YOU OUT

like, among all the gang, he’s the only one mature enough to actually flirt with you properly & to ask if you’re single.

darry’s fucking down like that.

AWWHHH HE TOTALLY BUYS YOU FLOWERS AS A ‘THANK YOU’ GIFT LOL

flexs his strength around you to prove he’s worthy !!! DARRY LOVEEESSS SHOWING OFF WHEN YOU’RE LOOKING

megara + hercules methink…..

you two probably started hanging out as ‘friends.’ …yeah right!!!!

he’s driving you around as you be his pretty little passenger princess, he’s offering to buy you things when you two are out, etc, etc.

darry might not know how to show that he likes you, but trust me, the second that you look a little too far into his actions—it gets obvious.

like maybe too obvious idk.

Steve Randle

HELLLOOOO??? HE IS TOTALLY SHOWING OFF HIS GYMNASTICS MOVES AROUND YOU

“bro, bro! (yes he’d call you bro. idgaf.) watch what i can do!!😊😊” “wowwww, steve that’s so cool.”

geeks out near you. when you aren’t around the average person would see him and go ‘jesus christ, he literally might beat my ass.’ but when you’re around, they might think, ‘why is that scary looking guy talking about cars and comic books rn??’

you bring out the nerd in him in the best way possible🫶😊 BECAUSE THAT MEANS HE LIKE LIKES YOUUUUUUU

and it’s so obvious to the gang bc wdym steve told you all about DC comics while all they got was a ‘yeah, it’s alright.’ …hm…..

soda NEVER shuts the fuck up and him and his little girlfriend. NEVERRREE

“why’re you so pouty today? y/n ain’t say hi?”

“bro, shut up!”

steals for you and gives them to you all proud like he paid for it LMFAO

tries to be sooo cool around you but the second you bring up the latest batman comic he’s all “OMGOMGOMGOMG IT WAS SOO GOOD!! DID YOU SEE THE-“ he’s a loser what can i say.

dallas totally flirts with you in front of steve just to piss him off LOLLL like when he sees dallas twirling your hair around his finger steve is just all “???🤨🤨😡😡”

and then becomes your knight in shining armour and swoops you away as he glares daggers at dally!!!!<3

Two-bit Mathews

he becomes the funniest man on the planet i’m not joking

he says jokes that anybody and everybody will laugh at. just because he wants to see you laugh at what he says for his delusions

two-bit thinks like ‘she laugh=she likes me’

he’s not the brightest but it’s okay

HE MAKES IT SOOO KNOWN THAT HE LIKES YOU LFMAOOOOOO

“you’re lookin’ pretty? who’s the fella?” / “gee, i didn’t believe when they said they seen an angel walkin’ around until now.” / “well, now you owe me dinner.”

shit like that

two thinks he’s soooo smooth…smh.

DALLAS AND PONYBOY SO BADLY WANTS HIM SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY ABOUT YOU LMFAOOO

they keep on telling him just to confess already but then two gets all giggly and shy and goes “omg guys noooo🤭🤭🤭🫣🫣”

just coincidentally runs into you everywhere you go!!! (literally has eyes everywhere. he’s weird. he’s odd.)

follows you around like a lost puppy and lowkey kinda gossips. idk.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 18: i'm anything but tame

"Don't tell me it's not fair. Believe me, I've been there. Bittersweet my renegade and I'm anything but tame. Oh, I hate to tell you this way. VIllians aren't born, darlin' we're made."  -Villians Aren't Born (They're Made) by PEGGY

Regent masterlist Mundane Macabre Part 17 AO3

Council of Uncaged Birds group chat [User Pharaoh has changed group name to Summon the Fraid Council] Summon the Fraid Council group chat Pharaoh-Tech: Phantom giw left AP InfiniteStarPrince: but thats good??? Queen_Regent: Where did they go? 

Dame_Asphodel: Phar tracked them far as NJ but the green says they are close to you.  Pharaoh-Tech: did some digging the bomb = not giw InfiniteStarPrince: yeah no gross ecto Queen_Regent: too subtle, not the usual guns blazing style.  InfiniteStarPrince: Oh.  Dame_Asphodel: Why Regent then? Queen_Regent: Who knows Phantom and I outside our night lives? Pharaoh-Tech: will dig more oracle tried 2 hack me Queen_Regent: Did you make contact? Dame_Asphodel: isnt Oracle a bat ally? Pharaoh-Tech: probably back hacked some files theres a file on Regent InfiniteStarPrince: why would BBB not have 1 on her??? Dame_Asphodel: BBB? Queen_Regent: Big Bad Bat. Batman. InfiniteStarPrince: yeah why wouldnt he have 1 on a meta Queen_Regent: he thinks is one Pharaoh-Tech: it has UR REAL NAMEE Queen_Regent:  I told him. InfiniteStarPrince: yeah, R let me know Dame_Asphodel: why? Pharaoh-Tech: u kidding i worried for nothing?!?! Queen_Regent: I’m dating Red Hood Dame_Asphodel: What happened to Jason? InfiniteStarPrince: him too Pharaoh-Tech: wat???? InfiniteStarPrince: R met his family 2 Pharaoh-Tech: hol up !?!?!?! u tellin me RH = JT?? Queen_Regent: Can’t confirm or deny Pharaoh-Tech: imma lay down head hurts Dame_Asphodel: That does make me think R Queen_Regent: that one of RH’s enemies tried to kill two birds with one bomb InfiniteStarPrince: oh snap plot twist Dame_Asphodel: who though?  Queen_Regent: RH is a crime lord Dame_Asphodel: who took on black mask Queen_Regent: I don’t want to do anything without proof

InfiniteStarPrince: black mask? Dame_Asphodel: crime lord got ass kicked by RH literally has a black mask as a face InfiniteStarPrince: so looking for one (1) ugly bastard Queen_Regent: evidence first. can’t execute mortal with zero InfiniteStarPrince: realm laws suck Dame_Asphodel: yet you’re still gonna be king sucks to suck Queen_Regent: For now i’ll ask RH for info he’s mad about the bomb worried I couldve been hurt InfiniteStarPrince: gross Dame_Asphodel: and after? Queen_Regent: well we’ll cross that bridge when we get there Dame_Asphodel:  I think you mean burn it Queen_Regent: whatever comes first

GothicDame and JazzHands chat

GothicDame: does he treat you well? JazzHands: very 

GothicDame: good always need more fertilizer JazzHands: Never change

If she was anyone else, Ellie walking through Jason’s apartment door with a dirty shovel over her shoulder while whistling a jaunty tune would have raised some concerns for the older Nightingale. Jazz decided to settle for fond exasperation over annoyance at her little sister’s literal (albeit forewarned) shovel talk, even though the aforementioned shovel was suspiciously covered in bloody dirt. 

However, any annoyance died and went to the realms when Ellie stood face to chest with Jason, one hand on her hip, shovel still over her shoulder and gave him a once-over. A four-foot-six teen standing off against her six-foot even boyfriend should not be allowed to be so comedic. 

“So, you’re the-“

“Red Hood.” 

“I was gonna say undead weenie, but that works too I guess.” 

It was just so ridiculous that Jazz couldn’t help but laugh at the two. Jason and Ellie spared her confused looks at her laughter, but didn’t comment as Danny entered the apartment as well, only he had an ecto smoothie in one hand and a bucket of popcorn in the other. The future Ghost King didn’t seem all that concerned about the scene he walked into, only pausing long enough to ask-

“Did I miss anything?” 

[I'm so glad to post a new part to the Regent! If you weren't aware, this also now lives on AO3.]

[redwinterroses]

(part one)

Oakville was, according to Tango, not the closest sign of civilization—which was fantastic, because by Jimmy’s reckoning it would have taken them weeks to cover what the train had in a few hours. Such was the wonder of modern technology.

“We’re only a few hours—maybe five? Maybe five hours out from Eureka.” Tango said, pulling a compass out of his pocket and checking their heading. “Not much of a place, but they’ve got a communicator station and horses. And whiskey.” He sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a drink right now.”

A drink. Jimmy was suddenly aware of the cottony dryness of his mouth—and they’d barely been walking an hour. The sun was down, the night air was cool, but he was already thirsty.

“We, ah—” he half-tripped over a rock. “It’s really dark. Are we going to stop for the night?”

Tango waggled the compass at him, the silver rim catching the starlight. “Moonrise in less than an hour, it’ll be plenty light.” He slipped the compass back into his vest pocket and shrugged. “Anyway, it won’t stop the Greysides boys. They’ll bring lanterns though, we’ll see ‘em coming.”

Somehow, that wasn’t comforting. In the distance, a wolf howled, and Jimmy shivered.

“Normally,” he said, trying to shape his voice in a conversational tone. “Normally, this would be the point where I’d build a dirt hut and wait out the night.”

Tango flashed him a grin that Jimmy could hardly see. “What, you afraid of a little mob action?”

“Considering I’m being tracked, can’t risk my gun, and don’t have so much as an iron sword?” Jimmy grimaced, thinking wistfully of the two shulkers of gear in his carpetbag. Abandoned on the traincar, loot for pillagers. “Yeah, I’d say I’m not exactly looking forward to running into anything.”

Tango gave a little chuff of a laugh, and there was a rustling sound as he dug into the side pocket of his satchel. Because of course he had his satchel.

“There ya go, greenhorn,” he said, and held out a faintly-glowing diamond sword, hilt-first for Jimmy to take.

“What?” Reflexively, Jimmy reached for the weapon, his fingers closing around the hilt before he could consider it. Tango let go of the blade and shrugged, slinging his satchel back to rest on his hip. 

“Can’t have my traveling buddy unarmed,” he said. “Bad look, for an experienced trail boss like myself.”

There was something in the way he said “experienced,” some note of sarcastic self-mockery, that Jimmy did not care for.

“When you say experienced,” he said, holding the gifted sword low to the ground and letting the gleam of enchantment dimly light his way. “Exactly how many—”

“Hey, will you look at that?” Tango interrupted him. He pointed into the distance, and Jimmy squinted.

“Lights?” he ventured, though if that was torchlight it looked almost indistinguishable from yellow-tinted stars.

“That’ll be Eureka,” Tango said. “We’ll get there well before dawn, if we don’t run into too much trouble on the way.”

Jimmy opened his mouth to go back to the question about Tango’s trail experience, but stopped himself. No reason to push for the fellow’s backstory—it wasn’t as if he was eager to share his own.

“Right,” he said. “Right, then. What trouble is out here? Creepers? Zombies?”

“Not too many undead,” Tango said. He rested his hand on the hilt of his own sword as they walked. “Husks, mainly, with this heat, unless you go underground, which I don’t advise. But yeah—creepers are a big nuisance in these parts. Them and the endermen—frontier mob griefing is the worst. I keep tellin’ folks we need to lobby to get an anti-griefing patch out here, but—” he shrugged. “You know how frontier people are. Obsessed with keeping things vanilla. You want luxury mods, go back to spawn.”

Jimmy made a noncommittal sound. 

“I’m not talkin’ like, full-on spawn blacklists or anything,” Tango continued, tromping along. “People want that, they can do things the hard way. I’m just sayin’—”

“Look out!” Jimmy saw the creeper just before it rose up out of the scrub, its eyes flashing a warning.

Tango swore and leaped nearly a block in the air, dodging away from the creature. 

It settled back, glaring at them balefully from its nest of brush and grass, and Jimmy eyed it with wary caution.

“It’s smaller than the ones back home,” he said doubtfully.

“Ehhh—” Tango’s voice was tight with concern, and Jimmy looked away from the creeper to find the man staring over his shoulder. “That’s… that’s cuz that one’s a baby.”

Jimmy froze.

“The… there’s a big one behind me, isn’t there.” He swallowed, and a hint of burning gunpowder drifted past his nose.

Tango nodded. 

Something hissed lowly behind him. A warning—the only one he was likely to get. 

He bolted. Behind him, he heard Tango’s startled yelp, and then following feet. 

“Is it chasing us?” Jimmy shouted.

“Keep running!”

Jimmy chanced a look over his shoulder.

It was a bull creeper—easily twice as big as the feral creatures he was used to back spawnward, its pelt dun-colored and mottled with green to camouflage it in the scrubby grasses. It charged after them, its eyes flickering with anger, hissing as it ran.

“Holy—” Jimmy tripped, caught himself, and kept running, eyes back on the ground in front of him.

“Get to that rock pillar!” 

In front of them, one of the strange, spiky landforms jutted up out of the dark landscape. They were at the base of it in a moment, ducking around the back, momentarily out of the creeper’s line of sight.

“Climb!” Tango ordered. 

Scrabbling up the steep side of the rock, they managed to drag themselves onto the top just as the creeper reached the base. It hissed furiously, but they were out of its reach—and blast radius—and it could do nothing but pace below them, its stubby legs not made for climbing. Thank void.

Jimmy flopped on his back on the narrow ledge, feeling his gun digging into his hip and not caring enough to move. His chest heaved as he panted for air, and cold sweat trickled down his ribs.

He closed his eyes against the stars, hating everything in that moment. Hating the stupid night sky, hating the ridiculously huge creeper below—seriously, since when did they get that big?—and most of all: hating that once again he’d managed to pull someone else into his mess.

“Alright,” he managed, swallowing hard. “Alright—look. You gotta get out of here.”

Tango, crouched on the edge of the rock, making faces at the creeper as he caught his breath, waved a dismissive hand. “It’ll lose interest and wander off eventually,” he said.

Jimmy pushed himself up with one arm. “No, seriously,” he said. “I mean it. I’ll keep its attention—you sneak off the back and head for Eureka. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not leaving you on a rock in the middle of the wasteland, pal,” Tango said, with a baffled laugh. “Like—I mean, no offense. But you’re greener than beans, and I’m at least half the reason you’re not on a train right now anyway.”

The creeper was snuffling around the base of the tower, and Jimmy had the sudden horrible notion that it might figure out how to climb. Or Tango would fall off the edge. Or Jimmy would trip and knock him right into the creeper’s paws.

He glanced down at the sword. “Sharpness?” he asked, squinting at the runes carved into the blade.

“Obviously.” Tango turned away from the creeper and gave him an evaluating look that was far too sharp for Jimmy’s liking. “It’s just a creeper, James, it’s not like it’s gonna—” his foot slipped on a pebble and he flailed his arms for balance.

In an instant, Jimmy shot forward and snatched at Tango’s arm, yanking him down toward the middle of the stone platform. Tango fell to one knee, yelping in surprise and pain. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed, yanking his arm out of Jimmy’s grasp. “What was that—”

Before Jimmy could second-guess himself, or even stop for half a heartbeat to consider why he actually cared—why he still cared, after all this time—he rolled off the rock toward the creeper.

He landed with a thud on its sloping back, and the thing gave a startled HISS that buzzed in his bones, the smell of sulfur flooding the air. With a shout, Jimmy gripped the sword in both hands and drove the blade into the back of the creeper’s head, exactly where the spine met the skull. The point of the sword—enchanted as it was—met little resistance, driving straight into the creature’s brain.

The hiss turned to a crackling gurgle, and the monster went limp underneath him.

Jimmy staggered away, catching himself against the base of the stone pillar, letting the sword fall to the ground with a flat clang. 

He heard scrabbling above him, and looked up to see Tango half-climbing, half-falling down the cliff. 

“What kind of damn heroics are you trying to pull?” the other man demanded, his derby knocked askew and a look of baffled fury on his face. “That thing would have detonated in your face! You’re lucky you—”

“Not lucky,” Jimmy cut him off, exhausted. 

“—didn’t hit… what?”

The adrenaline jitter in Jimmy’s arms—what, the third rush of the night? I’m going to sleep for a week—felt like it was going to shake his skin right off his bones. 

“Not lucky,” he repeated, spitting out the word.

He stared past Tango at the dead creeper. Already, it was starting to curl in on itself, desiccating in the wasteland heat. By tomorrow night, it would be nothing but a pile of super-flammable ash. 

Tango paused. “Not… not lucky?” He tilted back his derby and peered down at Jimmy's face, rant kicked off its rails. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jimmy cursed every unlucky star he’d been born under, and double that for Sausage. For a long moment, he considered not answering. Nothing, nevermind, he could say. Let's just get to town.

In for a penny...

“I can’t die,” he said, meeting Tango’s eye. “And I don’t expect you to believe that, but the fact is: people around me die. Constantly. Never me, though.” 

A bitter laugh crept out of his throat. “If I hadn’t got that creeper…” He shook his head. “I dunno. It would have got you somehow. Or you’d have fallen and broken your neck. Or the pillagers would have appeared before we got down. Any number of things. You’re not safe until you’re away from me.”

Tango took this in. Jimmy could see him weighing the words—and probably dismissing them—but all he said was:

“Why?”

With a shrug, Jimmy pushed himself up, and retrieved the sword from the dirt. He wiped the point on a knob of scrub brush. “You saved my bacon on that train, I think,” he said. “That’s enough to tie us.”

He held out the sword to Tango. “Look—you go ahead. I’ll just… I dunno. Camp here for the night, I guess. You get far enough away, for long enough, the curse seems to… disengage. You’ll be fine.”

Tango didn’t take the sword. He looked at it, then looked at Jimmy.

“You know I don’t believe a word of this, right?” he said.

Jimmy’s heart sank, but he wasn’t surprised. “Yeah,” he said. “I figured.”

“Great.” Tango glanced over his shoulder toward where the lights of Eureka flickered in the distance. “Let’s… let’s just get you to town,” he said. “Get some water in you.”

Get a horse, Jimmy added internally. Hit the road. Put a thousand blocks between me and here.

“Right,” was all he said aloud. “Water.”

Tango kicked the creeper’s shriveling carcass and started toward Eureka, and Jimmy followed behind, still holding the enchanted sword. 

I should have just chanced the train.

[daryltwdixon]

The Promise of Us: Chapter 4

warnings: blood, anxiety attack

"That's far enough," you growl, your voice sharp as the group of prisoners comes into view, emerging from the blackness. The leader, the one with the long hair and the handgun, steps forward, his eyes gleaming with that same wicked glint. His presence is menacing, the way he carries himself making it clear he’s the one to watch.

“Cell block C, huh?," he sneers, "C4—that’s mine, pretty girl,” his gaze flicks between you and Daryl like he’s sizing you both up. The smugness in his voice makes your skin crawl, “let me in.”

You tense, but before you can respond, Daryl speaks up, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Today’s yer lucky day, fellas. You’ve been pardoned by the state of Georgia—you’re free to go.”

There’s a flicker of dark humor in his words, and under different circumstances, you might have laughed. But the tension in the air is too thick, and your grip tightens around your gun, hands steady despite the adrenaline pulsing through your veins.

“Whatcha got goin’ on in there?” one of the other prisoners asks, his voice less threatening but still curious.

“Ain’t none of your concern,” you bite back, raising your gun slightly, keeping your aim steady.

The leader’s eyes narrow, and his voice drops into something almost too calm, too controlled. “Don’t be tellin’ me what’s none of my concern, sweetheart,” His hand drifts toward his waistband again, and every muscle in your body tenses. You know what’s coming next.

Before you can react, Daryl steps in front of you, crossbow raised, the scope twitching higher as he trains it on the leader’s head, “Don’t even think about it.”

One of the larger men in the back, the one with broader shoulders and a calmer demeanor, speaks up, his voice cutting through the rising tension. “Chill, man. Dude’s leg is messed up. Besides, we’re free now—why are we still here?”

“Man’s got a point,” Daryl grumbles, his voice gravelly but quieter, as if trying to ease the standoff. His crossbow doesn’t waver, though.

The prisoners murmur amongst themselves, their conversation growing restless. You watch their faces, trying to gauge how much they know. It’s starting to dawn on you—they really have no idea what’s going on outside these prison walls. You wonder how long they’ve been locked away, oblivious to the world falling apart. Their words about families, civilians breaking into the prison, drift into the conversation, and the unease in your gut deepens.

The leader’s eyes land on you again, sharper now. “You got me thinkin’ there’s no place for us to go,” he says, his tone darker, more calculating.

Daryl’s patience is thin, and it shows in the growl that escapes him. “Why don’t you go find out?”

The strawberry-blonde man with the mustache speaks up, his tone lighter, more eager to defuse the situation. “Maybe we’ll just get goin’ now.”

But the leader isn’t having it. His voice rises, angry now. “Hey, We ain’t leavin’.”

Your chest tightens as the tension spikes, and you can feel the danger in his words, the violence barely restrained. His hand twitches again toward his gun, and you hold your breath, waiting for the inevitable.

“You ain’t comin’ in either!” T-Dog’s voice cuts through the rising chaos as he rounds the corner, gun raised and ready, his presence a solid wall of defense. The prisoners glance at him, weighing their options, but the threat is clear. 

The long-haired man raises his gun again, this time pointing it directly at T-Dog. Your pulse quickens, and your fingers tighten around the grip of your handgun, your knuckles turning white. His voice is sharp, filled with anger. "Hey, this is my house, my rules! I go where I damn well please!" His words echo in the darkened corridor, each one laced with defiance.

The shouting continues, voices overlapping in the growing tension. You catch movement from the corner of your eye and glance back—Rick is bringing up the rear, his hand resting on his gun holster. His gaze sweeps the situation, assessing, calculating.

“There ain’t nothin’ for ya here,” Daryl growls, his voice louder now, more commanding, “Why don’t you go back to your own sandbox?”

"Everyone relax," Rick says, his hand rising in a calming gesture, trying to settle the tension that’s about to explode. "There’s no need for this."

“How many o’ you in there?” the leader in the white tank asks, his eyes darting toward the cell block.

Rick’s voice is low and unwavering as he responds, “Too many for you to handle.”

There’s a brief, tense silence. Then one of the prisoners speaks up, his voice thick with confusion. “Why don’t you just take him to a hospital?”

The words hang in the air like a bad joke, and you can’t stop the incredulous look that flickers across your face. You glance between Rick and Daryl, and from the way they stiffen, you know they’re thinking the same thing. These men really don’t know.

Rick steps forward, his voice quiet, almost too calm. "How long you been locked in that cafeteria?"

The men shift, their eyes restless, anxious. You can see the confusion starting to settle in, and the unease gnawing at them.

“Goin’ on ten months,” the leader says after a moment of hesitation, his voice quieter now. He starts to explain, his words coming out in a strange mix of pride and exhaustion—how the riot broke out, how they’d survived, how they’d seen men turn cannibal, die, and come back to life. As they talk, you feel a chill creep up your spine. The thought of being trapped here, waiting for someone to come save you, sends a shiver through your body.

When they mention the army and the national guard, you can’t help it—a scoff escapes your lips. The sound cuts through the tense conversation like a knife, and suddenly all eyes are on you. The leader's gaze sharpens, his expression darkening, but Daryl shifts beside you, his presence steadying.

“There is no Army,” Rick says, his voice low and somber. ��There is no government. No hospital. No police. It’s all gone.”

The silence that follows is thick, the weight of Rick’s words hanging in the air. The prisoners stare back at him, their faces twisted with disbelief.

“For real?” one of the men finally asks, his voice weak.

Rick doesn’t flinch. “Serious.”

A larger man in the back, his face pale, stammers out a question. "What about my mom? My kids? You got a cell phone or somethin’? We can call our families, right?"

The absurdity of the question makes you bite back a bitter laugh. You hold back the sarcastic retort that dances on the edge of your tongue—Yeah, here’s my new iPhone that came out this year, knock yourself out.

"You just don’t get it, do you?" Daryl mutters, his crossbow lowering just a fraction, but he doesn’t let it drop. The men’s cluelessness gnaws at him, and you can hear the frustration creeping into his voice.

“No phones,” Rick says, his voice cold and matter-of-fact. “No computers. Nothing.”

You shake your head slightly, still gripping your gun but lowering it just a little. “As far as we can tell,” you mutter, “half the population’s been wiped out.”

The tension in the room shifts. The others in your group begin to lower their weapons as well, though cautiously, like they’re waiting for the prisoners to catch up to reality.

There’s a moment of heavy silence, the kind that settles in when everyone knows things have changed forever. The prisoners behind the leader seem to accept it—some looking down, others shifting uneasily, as if the truth is sinking into their bones. But the leader, the one with the wicked glint in his eye, seems to take the news differently. His eyes grow wilder, almost crazed, as if the weight of what he’s hearing is too much.

"Ain’t no way," he mutters, his voice low, his fingers twitching around the grip of his gun. His disbelief is laced with something darker, something dangerous.

Rick’s patience is wearing thin. His voice drops to a growl, his eyes locked on the leader. “See for yourself.”

“See for yourself,” Rick says, exhaustion clearly weighing on him. As he starts to lead the prisoners out, preparing to show them the grim reality outside, you step forward instinctively, ready to follow. But before you can take more than a step, you feel a firm hand on your arm. You glance back and see Daryl, his jaw set, his eyes hard with worry.

“Stay back,” he mutters, his voice low but firm, as he keeps his gaze fixed on the prisoners.

You frown, your hand tightening around your gun. “I’m the most helpful out there, you know that,” you argue, keeping your voice steady, but the tension in your tone is undeniable. “We don’t know what they’re gonna do when they see what’s really going on out there.”

Daryl’s eyes finally flick to yours, a flash of frustration in them, but also something else—something protective. “Ain’t about that. I need you back here, keepin’ an eye on everyone inside.”

You bristle at that, feeling the weight of his worry, “Daryl, I’m not a babysitter,” you say, your tone more exasperated now, “I can handle myself out there just fine.

His grip on your arm tightens slightly, and he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “It ain’t about you handlin’ yourself.” His eyes glance toward the long-haired leader, who’s lingering, his gaze still cutting toward you with that unsettling glint. “That guy ain’t right. He’s got his eyes on you. I don’t like it.”

You pause, catching the flicker of concern behind Daryl’s gruff exterior. It wasn’t just about keeping an eye on things inside—it was about keeping you out of the line of fire, away from the man's dangerous interest.

You bite the inside of your cheek, torn between wanting to argue and knowing that Daryl has a point, “I’m not just gonna sit around and do nothing,” you murmur, your voice softening, though the tension is still there.

“You won’t be,” Daryl insists, his voice urgent but steady. “We got people in here who need lookin’ after. Hershel, Carol, Maggie—they need someone who’s sharp, ready, if somethin’ goes wrong.” His eyes lock with yours again, and there’s no mistaking the unspoken plea beneath his words. He doesn’t want you out there with them.

You take a breath, exhaling slowly as you let his words sink in. “Alright,” you mutter, though it stings a little. “But you stay sharp out there too, okay?”

Daryl gives you a quick nod, his hand releasing your arm, and coming up to your cheekbone, brushing his knuckles against you softly, “Always do.”

You watch him as he turns back to follow Rick and the prisoners, a knot of unease twisting in your gut. But as you take a step back, your eyes flick to the cell block behind you, knowing that Daryl’s concern wasn’t unfounded. If something happened inside while they were outside, you’d be the one to hold things down.

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥

“I mean,” Carol says softly, “this has to stop eventually, right?” she says, handing Lori a blood soaked towel. You appear in the doorway, watching, your heart aching for the man laying mangled on the bunk bed. 

Lori looks up and sees you as she reaches up to lift herself off the ground, “It slowed down quite a bit already–Y/N, will you help Carol? I need to get off my feet for a minute,”

You nod, and walk over to help her up and keep steady. She murmurs a small thanks, and you release her as she walks out.

“If we get him through this–” Carol begins, but Lori cuts her off before she makes it fully out of the room, “when–we get him through this,” she says, and disappears.  

Carol continues as if she was never cut off, “--we’ll need crutches,”

You nod, reaching for more towels and when you hand one to Carol she gives you the blood-soaked towel in return. Something inside you seems to falter. The tidal wave of memories you've been working so hard to keep barred behind a wall in your mind starts leaking through. The warmth of the blood coats your fingers, seeping into your skin. You look down at your hands—they’re stained bright red, the heat of it almost burning. Your stomach flips violently.

The smell hits you next, thick and coppery. But underneath it, you swear you smell dirt, the damp earth pressing against your skin, the memory of tall grass under your skin. You blink hard, trying to stay focused, but your pulse races faster, hammering in your chest.

“He’ll need antibiotics, painkillers—gauze,” you whisper, but your voice feels far away, like it belongs to someone else. Carl stands in the doorway now, Glenn at the foot of the bed, watching Hershel, but you can’t focus on any of them. The room is slipping away, the air becoming too thin, too thick all at once. 

Carol hands you another blood-soaked towel, then another. Each one is heavier, and each time you take it, your hands shake more. The blood sticks, warm and wet, running between your fingers, staining your skin. Your vision goes hazy, like a fog creeping in, closing in around you.

The room starts to fade, swallowed by darkness at the edges. Your breath catches in your throat, coming in short, desperate gasps, but you can’t get enough air. The smell of blood mixes with a phantom smell of freshly turned earth. You can almost feel the weight of it pressing against your chest, suffocating you, like hands around your throat.

Flashes of red streak through your mind—blood, dirt, a shadow on top of you. His face flashes through your mind, lifeless under you. Oh, god. The sensation of warmth on your hands becomes too real, too overwhelming. The sound of your heartbeat drowns out everything else, muffling the voices around you. Your body feels distant, like it’s not yours anymore, and all you can feel is the panic rising, the darkness creeping in, swallowing you whole.

The towels slip from your hands and drop to the floor. The weight on your chest feels crushing, like the walls are closing in. Your heart slams harder against your ribs, but you can barely hear it through the roar in your ears as you look down at your hands covered in red.

Suddenly, a voice breaks through the noise, rough and familiar, "The hell d’you guys do to ‘er?"

You blink, but the room stays blurry as the only thing you can see is the bright red stickiness coating your hands. Daryl’s voice cuts through the fog, but the pounding in your chest muffles everything else. You can barely make out the concerned looks of Carol, Glenn, and Carl as they all turn toward you.

Your heart races faster, the thudding so loud it drowns out Daryl’s voice. The darkness around the edges of your vision creeps in further, and you can’t focus, can’t breathe. Your hands still feel coated in blood—warm, sticky, suffocating. Everything feels too close, too much, and your pulse is deafening, drowning out the world around you.

Daryl’s voice cuts through the haze, rough but urgent, “Y/N,” He’s closer now, his voice pulling you back, if only a little, “look at me.”

You blink again, trying to focus, but the pounding in your chest makes it impossible to breathe, and the room spins. You feel his hand on your arm, firm but steady, pulling you gently away from the side of the bed. You stumble, your legs weak beneath you.

“C’mon,” Daryl murmurs, his voice low and calming now, though still laced with concern. “Let’s get you outta here.”

He leads you toward the door, his hand gripping your arm with just enough pressure to guide you, but not forcefully. Your feet feel heavy, but you follow him, grateful for the way he’s anchoring you. Everything around you feels muffled, blurry, but his presence is solid and real.

As you step into the cell block, the air feels a little lighter, but the panic still grips your chest. The smell of blood lingers, the warmth gone but still drenching your hands. He pulls you toward a bucket of water sitting on the floor nearby. Without a word, he kneels down beside it, taking your hands in his, gently but firmly lowering them into the cool water. The cold shocks your senses, and you gasp, your body jerking at the sudden sensation.

“Easy,” Daryl murmurs, his voice a low rumble. His hands move over yours, helping to scrub the blood away, his touch gentle but sure.

You blink, your vision still blurred, but the coolness of the water against your skin cuts through the fog a little. The blood starts to wash away, swirling in the water, and your breathing hitches, but Daryl’s hands are still there, guiding yours, his presence solid and grounding.

“That’s it,” he says softly, his voice steady, “just breathe.”

Your chest still feels tight, but you take in a shaky breath, your hands trembling as the last of the blood rinses off. Daryl doesn’t let go, his hands still wrapped around yours under the water, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, a subtle, soothing motion.

“You’re okay,” he says quietly, his voice softer now, “you’re alright.”

You nod, but it’s shaky, your body still trembling. You blink rapidly, the edges of your vision clearing away, the cold water and Daryl’s touch keep you anchored, pulling you back from the overwhelming panic.

He pulls your hands from the water, gripping them firmly but carefully, his eyes searching your face. “Look at me.”

It takes effort, but you manage to lift your gaze to his. His face is serious, but there’s something else in his expression—something protective, worried. His knuckles brush gently along your cheekbone, the familiar motion bringing you back you even more, the coolness of his wet hands welcome across your hot face.

“You good?” he asks, his voice low but filled with concern.

You swallow hard, your throat dry, but you manage to nod again. “Yeah,” you whisper, though your voice is shaky. “I... I think so.”

He lifts you up, hovering his hands around you to make sure you’re steady. Once the ground feels solid under you, the cogs in your brain seem to shift back into motion. The prisoners– “Where’s–?”

“Rick made a deal with ‘em,” Daryl growls, looking towards the others, where Rick and Lori are tucked against the wall in conversation. Rick’s eyes look empty, unseeing. He’s not even looking at her. 

“Says we’ll clear a cell block in exchange for half their food,” 

“Food?” that sure makes you pipe up, if anything. He quirks a smile, and nods, the twinkle in his eyes back as he looks you over. 

“C’mon, won’t make you go back in there, but just stay close to me, will ya?” he says, his hand on your lower back as he guides you over to where the others are.

[kaunis-sielu]

Lady Death

“Baby I’m fine.” Is the first thing that he says. It’s one of the worst things that he could say when you answer the phone.

“Steve?”
“I’m at Memorial.”

“What?” Memorial Hospital? He and Bucky were just going to go and do some check ins with the clubs in the area and hearing that he’s at the hospital is absolutely not what you wanted to hear. 

“I got hit, I’m fine okay? I’m fine but I do need you to come and pick me up.” You hear a slight tussle and suddenly Bucky’s voice is filling your ear. 

“He has a concussion so he doesn’t really remember the hit. It wasn’t an accident Doll.”

“What exactly does that mean?” You ask as you grab a sweatshirt, hospitals are always freezing, then grab your purse and hurry out the door.

“It means that I saw the whole thing and I know who was driving.” 
“Does he know?” You ask as you get into your SUV. 

“I don’t think so. I’m in the hallways, I don’t want him to know because I don’t need him doing something stupid.”
“Who was it Buck?”
“Hydra.” You figured. Your phone connects to your car as you start to back out of the driveway. 

“I’m on my way.” You tell him, “Stay with him? We’ll talk when I get there.” You tell Bucky who will follow your orders as if they were Steve’s, any of the Howlies will.

“I have Nat outside waiting for you. I don’t want you walking around without protection, not with Hydra lurking and apparently a hit out on Steve.” 

“You think it’s that bad?”
“I don’t know and I don’t like that.” Bucky tells you and you’re instantly more on alert. “You want me to stay on the phone?”
“Can you go back into his room and put the phone on speaker?” You just need to hear his voice, to know that Steve is okay, to know that he’s alive. 

“Of course.” You hear him moving before he says, “Steve, your woman is on the phone.”
“Baby!” Steve says happily, “Why am I here?”
“You were in an accident Punk.” Bucky says patiently, you wonder how many times he’s had to remind Steve that he’s been in an accident. 

“I’m on my way Honey.” You tell him, 

“Oh good. I miss you.” You can’t help the small smile that pulls at your lips, your husband can be so soft for you sometimes that it almost hurts. 

“I miss you too, about five minutes.” You tell Bucky who you hear hum softly, “Steve? What do you remember?”
“Leaving you and goin’ with Buck to check on some of groups.”
“He didn’t know what year it was or who the President was so the EMT’s made him come to the hospital.” Bucky informs you, you’re not surprised that the EMT’s would make him go to the hospital, those are pretty basic questions, “He didn’t forget about you though. Kept tellin’ everyone that he needed to call his girl.” God you love him.

“That’s good. I don’t think that I’d be okay if he ever forgot me.” You admit as you turn onto the street that the hospital is on, “I can see the hospital.” 

“I’ll let you go and let Nat know that you’re here.”

“Thank you.” You tell him hanging up then hop out of your car. You know that Bucky, and Steve if he wasn’t concussed, would have wanted you to stay in your car until Nat met you there but you just want to get to Steve. 

“You should be in the car.” Nat’s smoky voice says quietly from a few feet away and you pull your gun on her faster than she can blink. 

“I think I’ll manage.” You tell her coolly and she smiles a slow, deadly smile at you. 

“Well done. You’re not supposed to bring guns inside a hospital.”
“You’re also not supposed to fall in love with the leader of a biker gang when your father is a pastor but I did that too.” You tell her and Natasha laughs. 

“Touche.” You tuck the gun back into your bag and hurry into the hospital Natasha close on your heels. Bucky is waiting in the waiting room his helmet in his hands and when he sees you he looks over at the nurse, 

“This is Rogers’ wife.” He says and she gives you a nod then pushes a button to open a secure door. You follow Bucky into the ER and down a short hallway then to a room where Steve is sitting on a bed. When he goes to stand you hold out a hand to him

“Don’t you dare Steven Grant Rogers.” The nurse in the room gives a startled laugh and when you look over at her in surprise she says, 

“He’s stubborn, where were you this whole time? I could’ve used you.” 

“Steve, let the woman do her job.” You scold as Steve pouts over at you.

“Then come hold my hand Baby.” Steve flirts so you make your way to the opposite side of his bed and take his hand. He presses a kiss to the back of your hand while the nurse checks his eyes again, 

“Your pupils are looking better but we’re going to do one more CT scan before you can go. You have to stay completely still this time Mr. Rogers.”
“He was being stubborn.” Bucky tells you with an eye roll. 

“Steve, please behave so that we can go home okay?” You tell him softly and he sighs before you press a soft kiss to his jaw, “I’m going to have to keep you up tonight.” You whisper into his ear and he smirks over at you.

“You’ll still be here when I get back right?”
“Yea. I won’t go anywhere without you.” You promise, at least not until he can sleep then you’re going to take care of whoever went after your husband. Steve follows the nurse out of the room and you look over at Bucky. 

“Tell me that you’ve got them.”
“Sam’s got them.”
“Good.”
“You want Sam to take care of them?”
“No.” Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, 

“No?”
“No. They’re mine.” You tell him fury evident in your voice and he gives you a little smirk. 

“I’ll let Sam know to keep him comfortable until you can sneak away from your very possessive and protective husband.” 

“As soon as he can sleep I want to take care of it.” You tell Bucky who nods then slips out of the room, his phone to his ear. 

When Steve comes back he pulls you to him and kisses you soundly. 

“I feel like you and Buck are plotting something.” Steve says softly when he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, “You are up to something.” He whispers. 

“There’s nothing you need to worry about,” You assure him, your hand carding through his hair at the back of his head, “I’ve got this my Love.” 

“What do you have?” He asks, 

“This.” You tell him, “You don’t have to worry about it okay?” 

“Baby?”
“No.” You whisper before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “No, Steve.” The nurse comes back into the room followed by a man in a white coat. 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Johnson. I took a look at the scans, the concussion is minor. Here’s a sheet of instructions and you’re free to go.” He says passing you a couple of papers. 

“Wonderful. Thank you.” You tell him and he nods before moving back out of the room. The nurse passes you a sheet on a clipboard and you sign it before handing it back. Then you take Steve’s hand and leave the hospital with him. 

“You’re packing right?” He murmurs into your ear and you nod, 

“But Nat is outside.”
“Good. Where the hell did Bucky go?”
“He’s doing me a favor. Don’t worry.” You tell him as Nat falls into step with you on Steve’s other side. 

“They’re letting you out?” She asks coolly but you know that she’s just as relieved as you are that he’s okay and they’re letting him go. 

“Don’t be too disappointed Natasha.” Steve snarks and she laughs, 

“You’re following us home correct?” Natasha nods as you make your way to the car, you usher Steve into the passenger seat before you round the front of the car.

“Bucky said you’re going to take care of it yourself. You sure you want to do that?”
“Yes. You won’t change my mind.” 

“Okay. I am coming with you.” She says and you nod once before joining Steve in the car. 
“Now Natasha is in on your secret?” He asks and you start the car before looking over at him. You need to give Nat time to get on her bike, 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about right now Steve.”
“You’ll tell me later?”

“Yes, once you’re not concussed.” You promise him as Nat starts her bike. You ease out of the parking space and make your way home. 

The paper the doctor had given you said that he could sleep. Just to wake him every so often so after Steve falls asleep you slip out of bed, put on some clothes and head back out into the night with Natasha on your six.

The docks are cold and quiet at this time of the night. The lack of sound should be eerie but you just find it comforting. When you make your way into the basement of the large warehouse you’re pleased to see Sam and Bucky there with a man chained to the ceiling, his arms over his head while his feet touch the floor. 

“Hood off.” You command, your mask covering the lower half of your face. When the hood is removed the man blinks at you. Then he registers what he’s looking at, the mask across your nose and mouth looks like a skeleton’s, your hair is pulled back and covered by a black hood and he pales. 

“No.”
“Yes.”

“You’re Lady Death?”
“Yes.” You tell him calmly, “And you came for the only thing that I love. You tried to make me a widow, a life for your attempt at his death.”
“I’ll tell you who sent me!” The man pleads, “If you don’t kill me I’ll tell you.”
“You’ll tell me either way.” You assure him, “They always do.” 

And he does. 

Then you kill him. 

If he’d had his way, if Hydra had had their way Steve would be dead right now and you won’t let that happen. 

“Get rid of him.” You tell Bucky and Sam who nod before you go back out into the night. 

When you get home Steve is still asleep, thank god. You get ready for bed and slip into your bed next to him. 

“He dead?” Steve asks sleepily from next to you. 

“Yes.” You don’t bother lying. While he might be the leader of the Howlies you’re his left hand, the one that holds the gun. The police would never look at Steve’s sweet innocent little wife when they’re looking for a killer.

“You didn’t need to do that.”
“I protect what’s mine, just as much as you protect what’s yours.” You remind him cupping his face in your hand. 

“I love you.”

“And I love you. Now get some more sleep.” 

“Getting awful bossy on me Baby.” He teases and you laugh before kissing him again, 

“Don’t worry, I like it when you’re the boss better. I’m only stepping up because you were almost killed.”
“I’m fine.”
“Now. You are my love and my life and no one will take you from me. And anyone who tries won’t get a second chance.”
“You are my love and my life.” He tells you before curling his arm around you, “And if you think you’re sneaking off on me again you’ve lost your pretty little mind.” 

“I love you.”
“I love you.”

Tag list:

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[fictional-at-heart]

Safe in the Arms of Love

Fandom: Billy the Kid (2022)

Characters: Billy, Dulcinea

Tags: Fluff, maybe some slight angst?

Summary: Billy takes Dulcinea to an abandoned cabin. (Takes place after season 2 finale)

(Request for MidnightOcelot on AO3🩷)

——————————————————————————

“Where are we going?” Dulcinea asked with a smile as she rode beside Billy through the snowy woods. Billy looked over and smiled back.

“I told you,” he said, directing his horse around a tree in front of her. “I ain’t tellin’ you yet; it’s a surprise.”

“Yes, I was hoping you had forgotten,” she replied with a sigh, feigning a slight pout. He glanced back and smirked.

“Ain’t gonna work on me, darlin’,” he said, facing forward again. “I’m immune.”

“We’ll see,” Dulcinea murmured, directing her horse back beside Billy’s. “How much longer?”

More on AO3

“Not much,” he said, pointing forward. “Jus’ through there.”

She leaned forward, trying to see through the snowy trees. As they came closer, she saw a small run-down cabin behind the trees. It looked like it hadn’t been used in years, with shingles dangling off of the roof and boards on the windows. Billy stopped his horse in front of the porch and swung off, walking over to Dulcinea and offering her his hand.

“I know it don’t look like much,” he said a bit shyly as he assisted her off of her horse, “but I can’t exactly take you out in town on a proper date, so this is the best I got.”

They tied up their horses on the porch railing, then Billy opened the door for her. She walked in and saw a blanket laid out in front of the fireplace.

“I came across this place not long ago,” he explained, walking over to the fireplace and starting a fire. “Cleaned it up some so that I could take ya here.”

When he had gotten the fire going, he walked over to the table and grabbed a crate off of it, bringing it over to the blanket and setting it down. Dulcinea smiled as she saw the food packed into the crate he had. She took off her coat and hat and sat down beside him. He took her hand in one of his own.

“I’m sorry I can’t take you someplace nice and fancy,” he said, stroking her cheek with his other gloved hand. Dulcinea smiled, bringing her hand up to his face.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, love,” she said, stroking his jaw with her thumb. “I knew what I was signing up for even before I broke you out, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. This is perfect.”

He smiled, reaching for a sandwich out of the crate and handing it to her.

“Speakin’ of you breakin’ me out,” he said, giving her a sideways glance and a smile. “If I hadn’t already known I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d’ve decided that right then an’ there.”

She giggled, looking down at the sandwich in her hands and taking a bite. They were quiet for a while as they ate, until Billy broke the silence.

“I can’t believe you did that for me, Dulcinea,” he said, his tone serious now. She looked up to see him looking at her and swallowed the last bite of her food, then cleaned her hands on her napkin. She gently held his face with her hands.

“And I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again,” she told him. He smiled at her, bringing his hand to her waist and leaning in for a kiss. She smiled into the kiss as she brought her hand up to his hat to pull it off, bringing a slight chuckle from Billy. His hand moved up to the side of her face as he continued kissing her. He paused after a moment and pulled away slightly, lightly rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

“I know,” he said softly, slightly breathless. “Sometimes I think you’re too good for me.”

Dulcinea pulled back a little bit, squeezing his shoulder lightly with her hand.

“You… you really think that?” she asked, her eyebrows drawing together slightly. Billy shrugged and looked down, still moving his thumb along her cheek.

“I never wanted you to live the life of an outlaw,” he said quietly, looking back up into her eyes. Dulcinea smiled slightly and smoothed some of the dark curls off of his forehead, her hand sliding down to his cheek.

“But it was my choice, Billy,” she said, bringing her other hand up to gently hold his face. “I would rather live life on the run as an outlaw with you than live comfortably in a town where justice is forsaken for the sake of money.”

“But I can’t give you the life you deserve,” Billy replied ruefully. Dulcinea leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes.

“You already give me more than I deserve, mi amor.”

One side of Billy’s mouth pulled up in a half smile, and he nuzzled her nose with his.

“I love you, Dulcinea,” he replied, brushing his lips against hers. “You’re too good to me, darlin’.”

Dulcinea giggled slightly as he kissed the side of her mouth.

“I don’t treat you any better than you treat me,” she said, exhaling slightly as he kissed her jaw. He leaned forward slightly, his hand coming behind her back to support her as he moved back up to kiss her lips. She ran her hands over his shoulders and onto his back, eventually finding their way to his hair as he continued pressing kisses to her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he laid her down and leaned over her, capturing her mouth in another kiss.

“Oh, Billy,” Dulcinea murmured as he nuzzled his nose against hers. “I love you.”

“Love you too, darlin’,” he replied with a smile.

——————————————————————————

Dulcinea lightly traced her fingers over Billy’s arm as they laid in front of the fireplace soon after. He held her against his chest as they watched the flames crackle and dance back and forth. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed happily, closing her eyes.

“This was perfect, Billy,” she told him, tilting her head slightly so her cheek was resting against him. He brought a hand up to her head, gently running his fingers through her hair.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He placed a kiss to the top of her head. “Ain’t nothin’ fancy, but…”

Dulcinea shook her head, moving her hand down his forearm to intertwine her fingers with his.

“I already told you I don’t need anything fancy. Just you.”

Billy smiled as she brought his hand up to her mouth to kiss it gently.

“You really are more than I deserve,” he said, hugging her tighter. She sighed and swatted his arm playfully.

“I already told you,” she said, “you’re too hard on yourself.” She tilted her head further to look at him, then brought her hand up to cup his cheek.

“You’ve done so much good with the Regulators. Don’t start thinking you don’t deserve the good you get.” She twisted around to wrap her arm around his neck, her other hand holding the back of his head. He sighed, burying his face in her shoulder and holding her tight.

“When I’m with you is the only time I feel truly happy,” he murmured, his words muffled in her shoulder. She stroked the back of his head before pulling back to look him in the eye. She smiled, placing her hand over his heart.

“And I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you,” she said as he placed his hand over hers.

Billy looked away and blinked a few times, then looked back at her, one side of his mouth pulled up in a smile. He slid his hand up to the back of her neck, pulling her closer and brushing his lips against hers.

“You’re my safe place, too, darlin’,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’d even say you’re my home.”

Dulcinea giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her close, gently kissing her. Of course, he knew that when they left the cabin, he’d be back to being an outlaw on the run. But until then, here in their abandoned and secluded cabin, he was happy to be able to just spend time together with Dulcinea; safe in the arms of their love.

[abigails-gf]

abby anderson x fem reader.

reader and abby spend the day together, celebrating abby's birthday. this takes place a few months before the events of pt ii, in seattle.

a/n: this is the first time i'm posting my work on tumblr. thanks to @hearts4blyg who gave me the idea for this fic.

“abby..” you whispered while caressing her cheek.

abby was still sleeping. it was early the morning – you could hear the rain tapping on the windows. it was quiet.

that was until your girlfriend groaned which made you smile. “wake up, sleepyhead. today’s a special day.”

she opened her eyes and blinked a few times before smiling. “oh, is it?” abby answered. her braid was messy, her eyes weren’t fully opened yet, and she was speaking in a husky voice. how you loved waking up to her...

maybe in another life you’d wake up to her in your shared apartment, make her breakfast and pack her lunch before she was off to work. maybe you’d get married. but nonetheless, being with her – even in the circumstances you were in right now – was enough for you.

you brushed a string of hair from her face as she sat down on the old mattress she was laying on. “you’re on patrol today? weren’t you out last night?”

“i was on patrol last night. manny’s taking your shift for today.” she was about to cut you of but you shushed her. “before you say anything — happy birthday, my love.” you said before kissing her.

you could feel her smile against your lips. “thank you, love.” she said before kissing you back. you stood up and gave her your hand. “c’mon, get up! we’ve got places to be.”

abby got up, looking at you with a bright smile. she usually didn’t celebrate her birthday, but the fact that you remembered made her feel warm inside.

abby put on her coat and beanie as you were putting your boots on. once you both had your backpacks on, you left the lodge. it was near the end of october, and the air had gotten cold. it had been raining for a few days now.

you walked, abby following you, not asking where you two were going or what you had planned for today.

the silence was comfortable. the area was free from infected, so you weren’t worried. abby took your hand as you continued to walk. it was peaceful. just the two of you, walking in the woods.

thirty minutes later, or so, you reached the nearest river. you stopped and looked at abby, smiling at her. “we’ll sit here for some time, if you’re okay with that?” you asked her. she nodded and sat on a rock, putting her backpack in the grass.

“come, sit on my lap.” and so you did, putting your backpack next to hers.

she held your hands, intertwining your fingers against your stomach. you both sat there for a while until the rain left, leaving space for the sun. you could feel abby looking at you. “can i kiss you?” she asked before you turned your head.

and so she kissed you, biting your lip, making you giggle against her mouth. “i love you s’much” she muffled against your lips. “i love you too, abs.”

after that, you both got up and took your bags before walking to the next location.

it was a bit warmer than a few hours prior, so abby had taken her beanie off. her braid was almost undone and you realized it has been a while since you’ve seen her with her hair down. “y’know, i can feel your eyes on me.” she smirked.

“i’m just admiring my beautiful girlfriend. is that so wrong?” you answered. you could see a tint of pink appearing on her cheeks. “stop it.”

abby wasn’t used to compliments, but you promised her that you’d find a way for her to be used to it. “just tellin’ you the truth.” abby looked at you and chuckled. “oh my, can’t believe i’m stuck with you for the entire day!” she joked.

as you arrived to the aquarium, abby looked at you. “what are we doing here?”

instead of answering her, you pulled her inside the building and smiled. “i talked with owen, and he told me that you liked aquariums, so i asked him if we could come here for the day. i hope that’s okay? there’s probably not a lot of fishes left, but i know they have seals! and the boutique is still filled with toys!”

abby came closer to you, noses touching. “it’s perfect. thank you, sweetheart.” she gave you a peck on the lips before kissing your nose, making you giggle.

you walked around the aquarium, holding hands and stopping at each tank – even if there was no fish, it was interesting to see what mother nature did with the tanks.

when you arrived near the seals, you hurried to the tank to see them. they were swimming and doing backflips. there were two seals, and they were the firsts ones you ever saw.

you heard a camera sound, which made you turn to abby.

“hey! that’s my camera, you thief!” abby had your camera in hand, taking the polaroid in her hand. “calling me a thief while you’re the one who stole my heart.” you smiled and hugged her. “dork.”

she kissed your forehead before placing the camera in front of you two, the lens facing you. you both smiled while abby took the picture.

when the polaroid came out you looked at it. you and abby looked peaceful, relaxed and happy. “pretty girl”, she whispered while kissing your cheek.

you turned your head to kiss her cheek in return. “c’mon, let’s go to the boutique!” abby put the camera and the polaroids in her backpack before you took her hand.

a few hours passed and you were still in the aquarium, sitting in front of the seals.

you had lunch – manny helped you prepare some homemade burritos and strawberries for dessert.

“ready? one, two...” you counted before throwing a strawberry in abby’s mouth. she caught it. “wonder what else you can do with that mouth...” you said, jokingly. abby waggled her eyebrows at your remark.

“oh!” you exclaimed, abby still looking at you. “i’ve got something for you! let me find it.” you searched in your backpack before pulling out a navy blue fabric. abby couldn’t figure out what it was until you unfolded it.

“you made me a stocking?!” she said, excited.

you nodded and handed it to her. “sweetheart... you shouldn’t have.” you smiled at her reaction. the stocking was navy blue with her name embroidered in white. she opened the stocking to find a card inside of it.

the card read “someone loves you enough to make you a stocking. i love you.”

“happy birthday. i hope you like it.” you said, shyly.

“baby love, of course i do. and i love you even more.”

she kissed you gently, at first, but then she seemed more eager. she bit your lip a few times, her hand reaching under your t-shirt, finding its place on your waist. “is this okay?” she asked.

“mhm”, you muffled against her mouth.

and so you made love, in front of the two seals, in this empty aquarium. the outside world seemed inexistant to you both – only you and abby, (and the two seals). it was gentle, whispering sweet words to one another and saying “i love you” as you both came undone.

it was late in the afternoon, already dark outside. you were laying against abby’s naked chest, her dirty blond hair spread on the blanket, tracing her freckles as her hand rested on your back. “i love you, y/n. so much. thank you for today. and for every other day, really.” you looked up at her and kissed her lips, “i love you too, abby. i’m so lucky to call you mine and to have you in my life.”

“such a sweetheart, you are, m’love.” you smiled at her compliment before kissing her cheeks and leaving kisses along her scar on her left cheek. “you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen, abby.” you kissed the freckles on her cheek. “you’re like a set of stars – that’s what constellations are. and your freckles remind me of them.” she smiled and hugged you tight.

abby kissed your forehead before you fell asleep on her. feeling safe, loved, and content. almost forgetting the outside world.

abby felt real peace for the first time in a while, and she was grateful to have you in her life. she once said you were a blessing. perhaps an angel. who knows?

all she really knew was how much she loved you.

“i love you, y/n.” she said before closing her eyes, falling asleep to the sound of your breathing.

[cowboys-of-tombstone]

Fixing a Broken Fence (Curly Bill x Rancher!Reader) 2/4

°˖✧Ko-Fi 💖 Patreon✧˖°

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     Hours later, after their failed heist on your ranch, Curly Bill and the boys dragged their feet back into camp just after dawn. The other Cowboys were still preparing for their separate runs when they turned to see Bill, Stilwell, and Barnes clumsily carry Ike towards his tent.

     Billy Clanton galloped over to his older brother, who howled as the camp doctor attempted to pry off Ike’s boot.

     “What happened?! Is he alright?!” the younger Clanton barked with outrage.

     Bill stepped forward and clasped Billy by the shoulder, “He was trying to help me get the drop on that little ranch I was tellin’ everyone about. I was hoping that we could’ve caught the owner off guard, but that lil’ vixen was ready and caught Ike by his toes.”

     “Well, where is she? Next time you head out, I’ll go with you and finish the job myself.” Billy insisted.

     “Oh, don’t mind Ike’s belly achin’! He just stepped on a little fox trap, is all. If you wanna do good by ‘im, just have him nurse a liquor bottle and he’ll be sleepin’ like a baby.”

     Billy’s ice cold stare cracked into a smirk. There was no question in Curly Bill’s mind of the love that the Clanton brother’s had for each other. And his banter seemed to put Billy at ease.

     The camp doctor poked and prodded at each of Ike’s toes, much to his discomfort. Eventually, after torturing the exhausted Cowboy enough, he announced his prognosis, “I think you’re very lucky, Mr. Clanton. A fox trap could very well break a man’s bare foot, but seeing how rigid your boots are, I suspect that all you have is a very nasty bruise across it.”

     “Oh, is that all?!” Ike shouted at the doctor.

     However, despite his outburst, it only led to the whole camp bursting into laughter.

     “Don’t be so sour, Ike!” Barnes shouted, “Just walk that thing off!”

     “Yeah, Ike!” Stilwell hopped in, “We’ll foot the doctor’s bill for ya!”

     Ike’s face turned strawberry red as the camp cackled at his expense.

     “Why you rotten pack of dogs!” Ike roared as he threw his boots at Stilwell and Barnes.

     Billy waved off his brother’s antics and turned back to Curly Bill.

     “Sorry for getting so wound up earlier. Are you even plannin’ on heading back?” The blonde Cowboy asked.

     “I don’t know, it don’t seem all that worth it. Maybe once I get some shut eye, I’ll join up with one of the other raids. We’ll see.”

     “If you say so, boss.” Billy shrugged as he chewed on his tongue. 

     “Well don’t let me and Ike slow you down, Billy boy. I still need you, Johnny, and ‘em to find us a way back into Mexico. We’re all countin’ on you.” Curly Bill assured with a tip of his hat.

     Billy, having nothing else to say, simply nodded and trailed off to rejoin his group.

     Curly Bill, on the other hand, let out a big stretch and yawned deeply. His neck and shoulders felt stiff from the events of the day. All he needed was a quick nap and he’d be ready to join his boys to another ranch.

     Several hours later, Bill was awoken in his tent by a searing beam of light that prodded at his face. The sun had reached midday and had found a hole through Bill’s tent. He groaned as he rubbed his eyes and got up from his cot. Through his heavy sniffing, he noticed that his ears were ringing with silence. Confused, Curly Bill stood from his cot and stepped outside.

     The sun’s relentless light blinded Bill further, but as his eyes adjusted he realized that the camp was empty.

     “Son of a bitch! Everyone left already!” Bill shouted.

     “You alright, Bill?!” A voice called from the other side of camp. 

     Startled by the reveal of one other Cowboy staying behind, Bill hurried on to find the source. He kicked bottles of beer out of his way and found Ike, sitting in the shade with his leg elevated, and a pair of crutches leaning against his chair. True to Curly Bill’s prediction, Ike cradled a bottle of moonshine in one arm and fanned himself with his hat in the other.

     “Where the hell is everybody, Ike?” 

     “Where do ya think, Bill? They all set out to make some cash. Been gone for several hours now.”

     It had finally occurred to Bill why the sun was so hot and why it was so quiet. Even though he only wanted a short nap, he went and slept through the whole morning. 

     “God damn.” Bill clicked his tongue.

     “Well, ya wanna take a seat and shoot the shit?” Ike smiled as he patted the chair next to him.

     “Thanks, but I’ve already slept all day, and I’m feeling antsy.” Bill admitted while he scratched his back, “Hm. What to do?”

     Then you came into his mind. That look in your eyes, that fire in your heart, it was like a wolf had gone sweet on a lamb.

     “Alright, Ike, I’m headin’ back to that ranch. I’ll be back later.” Bill winked as he started to walk away.

     “You get ‘er, Bill! Give her one for my foot!” Ike raised his moonshine bottle.

     “Weeell, actually, I reckon I’m gonna go talk to her.”

     “W-what? Why?” Ike leaned forward.

     “Cause she’s kinda cute.” Bill shrugged with a crooked grin. “Maybe I still got a shot of gettin’ on her good side, too.”

     “You wouldn’t think she was so cute if she did this to you!” Ike lividly pointed to his purple foot.

     “Yeah, probably. Anyway, you keep resting that hoof of yours, I’ll let you know what happens!” Bill waved as he marched off.

     Ike stammered to get a word out, but before he could Bill was gone. He threw his hat to the ground, but picked it back up to fan himself some more.

     ‘Sorry, Ike.’ Curly Bill thought as he jumped on his horse, ‘I’ll get you another bottle of moonshine when I get back to town. But I think you’d be smitten too if you saw her the way I did.’

     As Bill rode along, heading towards your ranch, he was continually driven deep into thought. Not even the immense heat could pry him from his persistent introspection about seeing you again. What would you think about him upon his return? Would you shoot him on sight? Maybe you’d think that it was a different group of robbers? No, that’d be silly, he thought. There’d be no way he could weasel his way around you, you seemed too sharp for that. And yet his arrival still felt a little too soon. Even before he could find an adequate way to set his better foot forward with you, the lonely hill sprouted from the surrounding fields.

     Just as Bill’s horse reached the hill summit, where the tree generously offered shade, Curly Bill hopped off to gander at the damage that he and his boys had caused you the night before. 

     Yep, the massive hole in your fence was still there. And there you were, struggling to lift the heavy timbers back into place, as your lazy dog watched with its tongue out. 

     “Least I don’t gotta knock.” Bill rubbed his hands together and adjusted his hat.

     Growling radiated from your dog as he watched the red scoundrel scuttle down from the hilltop. You quickly dropped the wood you were carrying and reached for your shotgun.

     Bill waved as he reached the hill’s base, “Howdy there, neighbor!-” 

     Bang!

     The Cowboy squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. As he pried one eye open, he saw that you had let off a warning shot first, then took aim at him. He smiled, which deeply contrasted your livid scowl and growling dog.

     “Come here to finish what you started, Cowboy?” you asked, eyeing him for any sudden movements. 

     Curly Bill let out a short chortle, “I like your spunk there, Miss. Can I give you a hand with that fence?”

     “You can give me a hand by leaving and never coming back.” You retorted, cocking the second hammer on your shotgun.

     The Cowboy shifted his mustache to one side, calculating the possibility of your bluff. The sand crunched underneath his boot as he slid one step towards you.

     Bang!

     As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t drive yourself to shoot him. You purposefully missed, leaving him, again, frozen in place.

     Your family never had a bad apple in the batch, always willing to work hard and with honesty. Sure, your dad taught you how to shoot, but never to kill anybody! And you certainly didn’t want to either. It was different from the heat of the moment, where faceless bandits were returning fire from the dark in a fight for your lives. What stood before you, however, was not some faceless rogue, but a man. A man who was no doubt a crook, and maybe even a murderer, but in this moment, he had the face of any other man, innocent or otherwise. 

     Bill, in his pause, did not overlook the fact that your gun was empty. However, your apparent refusal to reload your weapon seemed to indicate a safe passage for him. Carefully, he dragged his feet over the fallen piece of timber and began to lift.

     The wood, stubbornly and spitefully, hung its full weight upon Bill as his heels dug into the ground. He hadn’t realized how much easier tasks, such as lifting logs were, with even a few of the boys around. He was able to swivel the mass parallel with the rest of the fence before he set it down to catch his breath. A few ants carried a twig through the grains of sand, and Bill kicked dirt on them with envy.

     You shook your head inside. As much as you wished for this cattle rustler to finish fixing your fence by himself, you had much more important things to worry about elsewhere in your ranch. You slung the shotgun over your shoulder, and joined Bill on his side of the timber.

     The wood was still heavy for both of you, but between you two, it was a much easier lift all the same. You placed one end onto the stake, then lifted the other end onto its counterpart. Before long, the fence was back to form with no sign of any vandalization. All that was left to do was to hammer the posts in place. 

     Without instruction, Bill grabbed the heavy mallet and struck down upon the timber, securing it. 

     There was a stillness in between Bill’s strikes, seeing the opportunity, he began, “I wanted to apologize for disturbing you last night.”

     “Disturbing? A disturbance would be coming over for a cup of sugar in the middle of the night. I don’t think what you and your friends did was a disturbance.” You commented as you fanned yourself. 

     “That’s fair. I guess I didn’t want to just say ‘sorry for tryin’ to rob you.’ The sentiment is the same, though.” He chuckled.

     “Mister, fixing a broken fence won’t quite make up for trying to steal my livelihood. Or having one of your cronies try to kill me, at that.” You harrumphed with a hand on your hip.

     “Actually he was just causin’ a distraction. We were a bit caught up trying to leave.” Bill shrugged with a Cheshire smile.

     “Well, guessing by your lack of limp, it wasn’t you that got caught.”

     “No, but my friend sends his pleasant regards.”

     “Yeah, I’m sure he does. Let him know I feel the same way.” You scoffed. 

     A grimace slipped past Curly’s teeth just as he finished driving the timber into the post. Your tone was about as abrasive as sandpaper, and yet, you trusted him enough to have casual conversation. Bill thought, despite your tone, that you were really softening up to him.

     With one last smack of the mallet, the fence was finished. Bill handed the tool back to you and leaned against the fence to wipe his brow.

     “Thanks, Cowboy.” You said shortly, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I got a whole day’s worth of work to do. Forgive me if I don’t bid you farewell.”

     “A whole day’s worth, you say?” Bill inquired as he jumped over the fence, “Sounds like you’ll be needin’ a whole lot of help.”

     “A kind offer, Mr. Brocius-”

     “Oh, you remember my name! Call me Bill.”

     “Yes, uh, Bill. But you’ve been more than helpful enough. Why not go back to town and get a nice drink for the occasion?” 

     “Well, like ya said, fixin’ some dingy ol’ fence ain’t gonna be enough, right? Then it won’t be no problem to helping you!”

     “Yes, but-” You insisted, but the burly thief wandered deeper into your farm before you could answer. “... I shoulda shot him the first time.”

     First on your list was to provide hay to your cows. After sleeping in, from the eventful night before, it took you all morning, or at least what was left of it, trying to get the fence back up. As the two of you arrived at the barn, Bill looked around the entrance nervously asking, “Heh, you put all them fox traps away, right?”

     You shrugged teasingly, “I dunno. I lost track of how many I had, so watch your step.”

     Even though he knew you were kidding, he experienced terrible flashbacks of those traps chewing Ike’s foot off, and shuffled past the entrance. 

     Inside, the humble creatures were impatiently lowing with hunger. Many popped their snouts out from their stalls with curiosity upon hearing the barn door squeak.

     “I hear you ladies!” You called to your awaiting crowd, “I know you’re starvin’!”

     Bill took one half of the stalls while you took the other. Soon enough, your whole herd gingerly trotted out the door to feed.

     “No need to be pushy!” You hollered, cheerfully slapping one of their behinds.

     As the last one trailed out, you turned towards Bill and tapped him on the shoulder, “Ok, I’m gonna bring my horse with the cart around. You get up on the rafters and lower one of the hay bales for me.”

     Bill saluted you and began to climb up to the rafters. To Bill’s surprise, there were several bales hiding at the top. Enough to make him wonder how you were able to do it all yourself. Upon your return, he lowered the dense cube of feed onto your horse’s cart, much to your surprise.

     Once the food was secure, Bill joined you in the seat of the cart and you both rode off to the field. 

     “You got quite the haystack up there, Miss.” Bill noted while leaning back with his hands behind his head, “Just how are you able to do all this by yourself?”

     You smirked while rolling your eyes, “Sometimes I hire the boys that sold me the hay to come help put it away. But most times, a girl’s gotta figure it out somehow.”

     “Well shoot, can’t be mad at a girl that’s pretty and resourceful.”

     “That’s mighty kind of you, but flattery can only get you so far, Bill.” you chuckled, glancing at the Cowboy with the edge of your eye.

     Bill gave a jaunty shrug, deciding to relax until the ride was over and it was time to work again.

     From there, your long list of chores began. With Curly Bill’s help, you laid hay for the cows to eat, cleaned out their stables, fed the chickens and cleaned their coop, before finally giving all the animals plenty of water. All the while, you closely watched over Bill, captivated by his endurance and willingness to work. From the way he was able to maintain a jovial conversation while working, to the surprising strength that hid within his already sturdy frame, or the way that his mocha skin glistened in the sun, the way… 

     You snapped yourself out of your thoughts. What were you thinking? This man almost went and took your entire livelihood, and there he was… making up for it?

     You paused from pumping out water from the spigot. Bill turned from holding the bucket to looking at you with the sun in his eyes, “You alright?”

     You moistened your lips with your tongue and began to pump again, “Oh, nothing, the pump gets caught sometimes.”

     “If you say so.” 

     What were Bill’s intentions? You wondered, was he planning another robbery? It didn’t seem that way, he appeared to stay focused on each task at hand, and never seemed too far aloof to be thinking of something else. Not only that, but the very air that surrounded him was more bearable than last night. 

     When you first met him, he had a clear intent in his mind, like a hungry jackal. There was no mistaking it, regardless of how charming he tried to present himself. However, it was as if he were a completely different man with you, presently. His smile was warmer than a sunrise and his attitude was fancy-free. Just who was this strange, two-sided man?

     There was a lot of time to ponder this question as the two of you worked late into the afternoon, repairing the damages done to your house that he and his friends so generously had given to you. A little bit of sawdust and wood glue mixed into a paste was enough to cover up any holes in your walls. Curly Bill apologized profusely, which you could appreciate, though you wondered how authentic he truly was.

     With the last bullet hole covered, you stretched your back and sighed, “Whew! I must say, Bill, when you told me you were a cowhand for the Clanton ranch, I thought it was more of a ‘title’ than anything else. I gotta admit, you were a lot of help today.”

     Bill stretched his neck with a grin, “All in a day’s work, Miss. It was a pleasure to help you out.” 

     The two of you stood on your porch in a moment of silence, neither moving from your spot.

     “... Well, I guess it’s time for me to start dinner. Thanks again for-”

     “Oh boy! What’re we havin’ tonight?”

     “We?”

     “Oui, oui!” Bill exclaimed in a grossly Americanized accent, his tongue sticking out from his haughty smile.

     “Oh, so now you’re a cultured French man, are you?”

     “Nah, I just picked up a thing or two from my friend, Johnny. He’s the really cultured one of us, with all that readin’ and whatnot.”

     “Real cultured, by just pickin’ up a book, huh?”

     “That must be the reason, considerin’ after him, I’m the most cultured man around here!”

     “If that’s so, I wouldn’t want to offend your cultured tastes with my humble cooking.” You playfully rolled your eyes. 

     Bill took off his hat and held it to his chest, proudly proclaiming, “Miss, I’ve already tasted your food, and speaking as a man of culture, I have been humbled by the experience.”

     A hearty laugh escaped your chest from seeing the plainspoken thief make a pass at sophistication. But perhaps, he was able to, more so, enjoy hearing your laughter for the first time. Your soft voice hummed in his ears like a birdsong, sweet like a violin’s strum. His toothy grin softened into a light smile and his confident stance slackened to be more relaxed. 

     And perhaps, you noticed this too. The thief or murderer that stood before you, still had the face of a man. And you were convinced it might be more than just that as well.

     You waved your hand inside and sighed, “Come on, Cowboy. Let’s see what we can eat.”

     Pondering your options, you made your way to your kitchen to look over your provisions. You had a large pot of beans that you had been soaking since the morning and were ready to be cooked. A fire was lit for them to heat in.

     “Bill, if you could do me a favor, bring me a chicken from the coop.” You asked as you prepared an onion for the beans. 

     “A chicken, huh? Well, alright then.” Bill shrugged. Being a cattle hand, Bill and his like often consumed beef for several days at a time during their travels, and were proud of it. It wasn’t frequent that they had chicken, since they were mostly used for their eggs. Bill was most concerned with there being enough of the bird to eat!

     In the meantime, you diced the onion, and then, put it to the side so you could prepare the garlic and other seasonings. A little bit of paprika, salt, black peppercorn, and oregano were all finely grounded together and ready for Bill when he returned with the chicken.

     When he returned, the bird had already been plucked and prepared for cooking.

     “Here you go! Not bad for my first try, huh?” Bill bragged as he set the chicken on your cutting board.

     “Only your first time? My, my, you’re a man of many talents, aren’t you?” You playfully swooned, no doubt tickling his ego. 

     However, you couldn’t deny the effort he put into cleaning the bird, like the rest of the day, with all the jobs you gave him throughout.

     A smile crept on your lips. 

     Helpful, you thought to yourself, he’s helpful. 

     Next, you shucked some corn and tossed it in a pan with some oil and seasoning. Lastly, you trimmed the chicken from its bones, cubed all its meat, mixed it with the corn and seasoning, and set it to be cooked in the pan. Sizzling smoke wafted throughout the kitchen, the hiss of the cooking food whispered delightfully in your ear. 

     The smell, above all, was divine. The corn’s sugar caramelizing with the chicken’s crispy, savory skin danced together with the chorus of biting seasoning. It was such a performance to the senses that you could hear Bill’s stomach all the way from the table he sat, to the kitchen.

     “I know, I’m starving too. The food’s almost ready!” You called as you switched between stirring the beans and cooking the chicken.

     “Don’t mind me, I know not to rush perfection!” He waved back.

     You huffed shortly. How did he always know what to say to make your heart jump a single beat? It just wasn’t fair for a robber like that to be so… charming.

     A broth formed from the juices of the corn and chicken. You collected it and set it aside, allowing for the meat and vegetables to become seared.

     As the main course finished up, you plated some of the reheated beans. Right off the sizzling pan, followed the chicken and corn, now blackened with flavor on one side. Finally, you poured the warm broth over the plate, rounding off a piping hot meal.

     “Alright! Come and get it!” You chirped. Bill rose from his chair, perhaps a little too quickly. Passing him a plate, he inhaled deeply, and the steam from the food vanished up his nose.

     He imagined that this was what a loving home smelled like, and pondering hard, he wondered if he even had a sliver of a memory that was like this of his own. The two of you got comfortable at the table and began to dig in after a long day of chores. You looked over to Bill to see what he thought. 

     The red robber collected a spoonful of beans, corn, and chicken, and popped it into his awaiting mouth. The chicken and the well-seasoned broth soaked his tongue in a savory warmth. The beans provided a soft texture and a neutral flavor to space out the other ingredients. The corn contrasted the rest with a hot pop of sweetness that ended with a sharp taste from the seared side of it. 

     He hummed with joy. It was a meal fit for a king, and he sure felt like one.

     Content with his enjoyment, you too, partook in tasting your dish. The tastes were familiar to you, nothing you haven’t already become accustomed to. However, glee fluttered inside of you, knowing another enjoyed your cooking so much!

     …And then your throat clenched, having remembered what he was trying to do last night. The whiplash from the thought almost snapped you in half. You were no closer to figuring out his intent than when he first arrived. How could he act as if you both had been friends for years, when he was so close to taking everything just yesterday? You just had to know.

     “Hey,” You hesitated.

     “Hm?” Bill thrummed.

     “So… why exactly did you come back? And to help with chores, of all things?”

     “Well,” He thought as he wiped his mustache, “it’s like ya said, saying sorry and fixin’ some fence just won’t cut it, and I thought that was fair enough.”

     “Yes, but why even come back and apologize at all? You could’ve gone and never returned, or…” You struggled to utter out, “... tried again with more of your boys.”

     Bill chuckled as he chewed another mouthful of food, “If you want the truth, Miss, it’s cause I think you’re mighty cute!”

     Your face, down to your collarbone, blushed a cherry red. 

     “Tha- that’s why you came back?!” You stammered.

     Bill nodded with a warm smile, “Why, I’d still be kicking myself if I hadn’t dropped by! You work hard, cook a good meal, and on top of that you’re sharper than an arrowhead. I must admit, there were a couple of times that I thought I was as good as dog food, when we first met. Must’ve been your good nature that saved me. Even then, the way you set me and my boys up with your traps and quick thinkin’, hoo boy! Weren’t you the talk of the camp!”

     You appreciated him being so forthcoming, in fact you were quite flattered. But was his reasoning really that simple?

     “Forgive me, that was a lot to take in all at once.” You shook your head in mild disbelief, “You came all this way to charm me?”

     Bill let out a slight shrug as he finished his plate, “Yeah, I suppose if you wanted the short end of that.” 

     “And what if I wind up saying no? What then?”

     Bill could sense your confliction, plain as day. Not that he could blame you, he knew his first impression with you would’ve made any further encounters complicated. He was a bit surprised, however, since you seemed to enjoy yourself with him throughout the day.

     Nevertheless, he swallowed his initial perplexion, and grinned proudly, “Listen, I understand last night was… well, anyway. I just wanted to come shoot my shot with no hard feelings between us. Whaddya say?”

     Little did you realize that your fingers had cusped your lips. As Bill was speaking, the sky, outside, had faded into a dusky red. And only its wearied light could be perceived as your home became enveloped in the dark. 

     Before your vision was lost, you rose from your seat to light the oil lamp at the center of your table. You thought about what the handsome devil was offering you, and the cost it would entail. His dark outline stood out, even against the near-blackened, reddish tint. You wanted to trust the man who arrived this afternoon, but at that moment, his form was stretched and exaggerated. You couldn’t see where his fingers ended and his dinner knife began. Even the furniture behind him seemed to get swallowed up, and become a part of his horrid shape. 

     The beat of your heart pounded in your ears like a war drum. Scrambling to light the lamp, his deep voice rumbled, “Having trouble?”

     Finally, a flame sprang from the lamp, pouring light into the entire room, disintegrating that ominous, dreadful figure. 

     There he was, a mere man again. The one you had the pleasure of working with today, radiating a kind smile for you. The war drum of your heart dissipated and the crickets’ soft calls could be heard, adjacent to the silence. 

     You took a deep breath and stumbled back into your chair.

     “You alright?” Bill asked, perking up in his chair, “I didn’t think my proposition would be so taxin’ for ya!”

     “Don’t flatter yourself.” You scoffed as you regained your composure, “I just got a little light-headed, is all.”

     After a moment of contemplation, you continued, “I’ll have to admit, this is a little sudden, Bill. Even if I can agree that there are no hard feelings, we only got to know each other just today.”

     Bill’s smile shrank subtly, just enough for you to catch.

     The inside of your cheek began to tingle as you realized you were chewing it the whole time. You inhaled sharply, “I’m not sayin’ no. What I am sayin’ is, well, if you wanna charm a girl, at least come around a few times…”

     That sun-tanned rattlesnake’s smile returned with a flick of his tongue. It was so sudden, that he caught himself in the middle of it and receded back with more composure. He began to wind up his sleeves as he cleared his throat, “I’ll have to, seeing as you like my company so much. Now how’s about I help you with those dishes before I head out?”

     “Alright, let me help you with-”

     “No, no, no! You sit yourself down and relax, you already made a lovely meal. Let me take care of a couple of dishes.”

     Although you insisted against it, Bill took your plates and brought them to your kitchen. While he heated a small pot of water, he began scrubbing all the dishes with those firm hands of his. After a quick rinse, all your dishes were cleaned, all the while you sat and watched. Just like the rest of your chores, it was nice to have a day where you didn’t have to do every single thing. 

     “There you are, all done!” He announced while flicking water from his hands. 

     “Thank you, Bill. You really didn’t have to.” You noted, as you lightly wrung your hands through your dress.

     His heavy boots clopped against your floor boards as he meandered to meet you at the front door. He leaned against the door as said soothingly, “For a darlin’ like you? Anytime.”

     You and he looked into each other’s eyes. Despite how deeply brown his were colored, you could still see his centers expanding. Just as you wondered if you were doing the same in kind, he turned and opened the door. 

     A rolling rush of cooled air washed into your home, pulling gently at your dress and hair. Holding your breath, you finally uttered, “Thank you. For coming back and everything.”

     The rogue looked over his shoulder, and winked, “Hope you’re not tired of me just yet. I’ll be back sooner than you think.”

     Then he walked off, with the gait of a rooster, confidently and pridefully, into the night. 

     As you shut your door, you heard yourself whisper, “I’ll be waiting, Cowboy.”

[thelastspeecher]

Ehhhhh fuck it, here's some self-indulgent angst in my Olympian Falls AU.

——————————————————————————————

              Mearl parked the truck in the driveway and looked at his youngest son in the passenger seat.

              “Don’t forget, we’ll tell folks ya fell from the loft in the barn again,” he said.  Lute scowled.

              “I know.  That’s what we told the hospital,” he spat.

              “Look, tellin’ the truth is important, but in this case-” Mearl started.  Lute threw the passenger door open.

              “I know,” he ground out.  “We can’t tell the truth ‘bout how my arm got broke.  Folks can’t know it happened ‘cause a monster attacked the farm.  Again.  No, we have to tell ‘em I got hurt doin’ somethin’ stupid.”  Lute stormed out of the truck, slamming the door behind him.  Mearl sighed.  He knew that it would be an adjustment to have Angie living at home again, after years of her staying in New York.  But he didn’t expect Lute, whom had been raised as Angie’s twin, to be struggling the most.

              Tensions had been high when Mearl returned from New York with Angie.  Specifically, tensions between Angie and Lute.  Angie’s other siblings had been happy to see her, but her twin dodged her constantly, refusing to be alone with her as much as possible, leaving the room whenever she talked about camp, and even avoiding talking to her altogether.

              It came to a head that morning, when a monster attacked the orchard where Angie and Lute were harvesting apples.  Lute was slammed into one of the apple trees, breaking his arm, before Angie was able to kill the monster.  Angie brought Lute to the house, near hysterical.  Sally stayed home to calm her down while Mearl drove Lute to the hospital.  The entire drive there and back, Lute had sulked, staring at the floor like it personally offended him.

              Mearl suddenly felt a sense of foreboding.

              Lute was awful upset at Angie.  It might not go well when he sees her.  Mearl grabbed the keys from the ignition and sprinted after his son.  He could hear Angie frantically apologizing the moment he stepped inside.

              “I’m sorry, Lute, I- I can’t heal like some of my siblin’s at camp,” Angie’s voice sobbed.  Mearl made a beeline for the living room.  Lute stood in front of the couch his mother and sister were sitting on, visibly seething.  Tear tracks shone on Angie’s cheeks.  Sally gently rubbed circles on Angie’s back, trying to soothe her.

              “Then why’d ya waste time tryin’?” Lute snapped.  Angie bit her lip.

              “I thought- I thought if it’d work fer anyone, it’d work fer my twin.  I mean, Dad is a twin, so-”

              “Yer not my twin.”  Lute’s voice was full of cold anger.  Angie let out another sob.  “Yer not even my full sister!”

              “Lute,” Sally scolded.

              “How can you defend her?  She ain’t yer daughter, Ma!”

              “She is.”

              “No, she ain’t!  She’s some- some Greek myth what came to life!” Lute said furiously.  “And she can’t even protect us from the monsters what come here.  The monsters what come here ‘cause of her!”

              “I- I killed the one today,” Angie said weakly.  Lute’s eyes blazed with fury.  He leaned in.

              “You ran away from it!”

              “I had to get- get some distance so’s I could fire an arrow.  I ain’t good at melee fightin’.”

              “Then why’d you run without me?”  Lute’s voice broke.  Angie’s eyes welled up with fresh tears. “You left me!”

              “I didn’t-”

              “No, you did!  You left, just like ya did years ago to go to that- that camp!”

              “I-”

              “You should’ve stayed there,” Lute spat.  Angie’s head drooped.  “Better yet, when ya showed up on our doorstep, Ma should’ve divorced Pa ‘n sent the both of ya far away!”  Mearl’s heart plummeted.  Sally gasped.  She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Angie jumped to her feet.

              “I didn’t ask fer this!” Angie screamed.  She ran out of the living room, nearly colliding with Mearl on her way.  The front door slammed.  Angie’s sobs gradually grew fainter until he couldn’t hear her anymore.

              “Lute Everrett McGucket, that was completely unacceptable,” Sally snapped.  Lute glared at her.

              “I’m only tellin’ the truth.  And Angie knows it.  I’ve read those books ya got on Greek mythology.  Her- her father-”  Lute’s face contorted, as though he had tasted something sour.  “-is the god of truth.  I bet she knows a lie when she hears one.”

              “Ya might feel like that’s the truth, but it don’t make it,” Mearl rumbled.  Lute looked over.  His eyes widened in panic.

              “I- I didn’t know you were there, Pa.  I didn’t mean-”  He let out a large sneeze.  “I didn’t mean-”  He sneezed again.  “What in the-”  Lute sneezed three times in a row.  “What’s-”

              “That sounds like when Harper gets hay fever,” Sally said.  Lute sneezed.  “But ya ain’t never had it ‘fore, and the pollen count ain’t high right now.”  Mearl stifled a groan.

              “It was Angie.”

              “What?!” Lute squeaked.  He rubbed his suddenly red and watering eyes.  “But- but-”

              “When I visited her fer Thanksgiving last year, one of her camp friends told me she accidentally gave hay fever to someone she was upset with.  Feller was sneezin’ fer over a week ‘fore Angie realized she was the one what done it.”

              “Of course she did it,” Lute muttered.  He sneezed.  “It- it weren’t enough that I broke my arm, were it?”

              “She didn’t mean to make ya sneezy,” Sally said.  “And she certainly didn’t intend fer ya to break yer arm.”  Mearl looked over his shoulder.  The front door had some damage to its hinges; Mearl had noticed Angie breaking things more frequently than she used to, particularly when she was upset.

              If she messed up the door and got Lute sneezin’ already, there ain’t no tellin’ what else she might do in her state.  A surge of fear pulsed through his chest.  And there ain’t no tellin’ what attention she might attract.

              “We need to go after her,” Mearl said.

              “Sure, go after the one what keeps causin’ me grief,” Lute said.  Mearl frowned at him.  Lute backpedaled.  “I mean- I-”  He sneezed.  “She just needs to cool down.  She’ll come back.”  Sally looked at Mearl.

              “Lute’s got a point, darlin’.  Angie might just need some time to herself.”

              “But-” Mearl started.

              “She can take care of herself,” Sally said gently.  Mearl hesitated.  “She’s been on quests, ‘member?  She’ll be fine.”

              “I don’t know…”

              “If she ain’t back in an hour, we’ll go lookin’,” Sally said.  Mearl sighed.

              “Fine.” He gave Lute his most disapproving look.  “In the meantime, yer goin’ to yer room,” he said firmly.  Lute stomped off, sneezing intermittently the entire way.  Mearl walked over to the couch and slowly sunk down on it.  Sally rubbed his back.  “When did things get so complicated?” he moaned.

              “The moment ya found our daughter in a golden cradle on the doorstep,” Sally replied.  Mearl looked away.  “Mearl?”

              “Sometimes I think the same thing as Lute,” he said quietly.  “That I should’ve taken Angie and left y’all.  Then- then none of this would’ve happened.”

              “True.  But what would’ve happened would be worse,” Sally said.  Mearl looked at her.  Compassion shone in her eyes, a far gentler blue than Angie’s.  “Our children would’ve grown up without a father.  You ‘n Angie would’ve struggled to get by.  No matter what those negative thoughts might say, it’s fer the best we didn’t tear the fam’ly apart.”

              “Yer right,” Mearl said.  He gripped his knees.  “I just- I hate seein’ the twins like this.”

              “Lute never really addressed his complicated feelin’s after we told him ‘bout Angie.  He tried to hide ‘em away.  But he can’t hide ‘em anymore, and they’ve twisted and turned after years of bein’ shoved down.”  Sally sighed.  “It don’t help they’re both teenagers.  Their age is dif’cult without dealin’ with Greek mythology monsters ‘n whatnot.”

              “True,” Mearl conceded.  Sally leaned against his shoulder.  He looked at the clock above the television.  “One hour.  Then we go lookin’ fer her.”

-----

              Max was idly playing with a dagger when the butler knocked on his bedroom door.  He quickly shoved the weapon in a desk drawer.

              “Yes?” he said.  The butler opened the door.

              “Young Master Hillcrest, you have a visitor,” the butler said primly.  Max stood up.

              “A visitor?”

              “Miss Angie McGucket.”  Before Max could get too excited, the butler cleared his throat, looking a bit uncomfortable.  “She seems to be in some distress.  Your grandfather is with her.”

              Grandpa Stanley?  Max’s blood ran cold.  Oh, shoot.  It must be a Greek thing.

              “Thanks fer tellin’ me.  I’ll go down to see ‘em right now,” Max said.  The butler nodded.  He stood to the side so that Max could rush past him.  Max sprinted down the hall and large staircase to the first floor.  He paused in the foyer, which was empty of demigods.  He looked up at the butler, watching from the second floor.

              “They’re in the sunroom,” the butler called.  Max nodded.

              Should’ve figured as such, with her father.  Max headed for the sunroom.  When he arrived at Camp Half-Blood last summer, the last person he’d expected to see there was his best friend’s twin sister.  He’d been told Angie McGucket was staying at a fancy boarding school in New York City.  But the lie fell apart the moment he saw Angie sitting at a picnic table with a group of other mostly blond kids.

              Angie was a demigod, like him.  And like him, her parentage was a closely guarded secret.  If the truth ever came out for either of them, it would have dire consequences for their families.

              “He wasn’t thinkin’, sweetheart,” Grandpa Stanley’s voice said as Max approached the sunroom.  He was like Max, a demigod, though while Max had yet to find out his mother’s identity, Grandpa Stanley had known for decades his father was Hephaestus.  When Max questioned why there were multiple demigods in their family, Grandpa Stanley merely shrugged.

              “Some fam’lies ‘re favored by the gods,” he’d said.

              “That’s a good thing, right?” Max had asked.  Grandpa Stanley’s face had darkened.

              “It very rarely is.”

              Max cast aside the memory when he reached the sunroom.  He stood in the doorway, watching Grandpa Stanley comfort Angie.  The sunlight that filled the room seemed drawn to her, shining like a spotlight.

              “Angie?” Max asked.  Angie looked up.  Max felt his heart do a backflip.  When Angie first went away to camp, they’d been children.  Too young for Max’s fondness for her to be much of anything.  But now, his affection had surged into infatuation.  Angie was the perfect girl: smart, powerful, beautiful, and kind.  Any room she walked into grew brighter.  Any song played by her was more lovely.  Any person she spoke to was the better for having met her, no matter how brief.

              It was no wonder she was one of her godly father’s favorite children.

              “I’m- I’m sorry,” Angie whispered.  She rubbed her eyes.  Max walked over to the couch the two were sitting on.  He grabbed a nearby wooden chair and sat down.  “I- I didn’t know where else to go.”  She took a shuddering breath.  “I need to call camp, but I can’t- I can’t risk drawin’ more monsters.  I know- I know Grandpa Stanley made a- a monster security system, so’s I figured I could use yer phone…”

              “Why do ya want to call camp?” Max asked.  He had a feeling.  It had taken some convincing before Angie agreed to try spending a school year at home, instead of at camp.

              “I need- I need to ask Mr. Chiron to send someone to bring me back,” Angie mumbled.  Max’s heart sank at the confirmation of his fear.  “It was foolish fer me to think I could stay here.”

              “What makes ya say that?” Max asked.  Angie looked down at the floor.

              “I- a monster attacked the orchard this mornin’, while Lute ‘n I were harvestin’ apples.”

              “But you got the monster, right?” Max asked.  Angie nodded.  “So, it’s fine!”  Angie burst into tears.

              “No, it ain’t!” she wailed.  “Lute got hurt!  And- and he was so upset, he- he said he weren’t my twin and- and he didn’t want me here!”  Max scowled.  Lute was his lifelong best friend, but that didn’t mean he could look past something like this.  “It’d be safer ‘n- ‘n better fer everyone if I weren’t here.”

              “Don’t let this single instance sway ya,” Grandpa Stanley said gently.  Angie sobbed.  “It’s growin’ pains, that’s all.”

              “I don’t want anyone to get hurt ‘cause of me.”

              “And they won’t,” Max said.  Angie shook her head.

              “Lute already did.”

              “That’s ‘cause he don’t know how to protect himself,” Max said.  “If we teach ‘im and the rest of yer fam’ly some fightin’, that’ll be enough fer ‘em to avoid gettin’ hurt.”  He looked at Grandpa Stanley.  “Right?”

              “It would definitely help,” Grandpa Stanley said.  Angie sniffed loudly.  “I’m sure Lute didn’t mean what he said.  He’s just adjustin’.  All y’all are.”

              Don’t give him the right to make Angie cry.

              “Think about it, Angie,” Max said.  “Do ya really want to go back to camp?  Spend the rest of the year in a mostly empty cabin?”  Not many half-bloods were too powerful to prevent them from staying with their mortal families.  There would only be a handful of people still at camp right now.  Including the person Max wanted Angie to bond with the least: one of the co-head counselors of the Hermes Cabin, Stan Pines.  Angie’s knee bounced anxiously.  “Or do ya want to stay here in Gumption, with me ‘n yer fam’ly?”

              “I want to stay,” Angie whispered.  Max beamed.  “But- but I ain’t ready to go home just yet.”

              “Take all the time ya need,” Grandpa Stanley said.  He got up.  “I’ll call yer folks to let ‘em know where ya are.”  Angie nodded mutely.  Max waited until Grandpa Stanley was gone.

              “If ya want me to beat up Lute, let me know,” he said.  Angie chuckled weakly.

              “He’s yer best friend!”

              “Yeah.”  Max reached out and rested his hand on Angie’s bouncing knee.  It gradually slowed down.  Angie met his eyes.  Max smiled at her.  “But us demigods have to stick together.”

[atinylittlepain]

Ginny my love I have an “I got love in my tummy and a tiny little pain” request - Whiskey au where he teaches his little boy how to lasso 🥹

aw, my first whiskey fic, and it's a sweet one :')

Like Father, Like Son

agent whiskey x f!reader (& their boy)

no warnings on this one, but like, be 18 or older pls

............................

“I’m telling mom.”

“You tellin’ me you don’t wanna learn how to do this?”

“...no.”

“Well then, what your mama don’t know ain’t gonna hurt her. But that don’t mean you can start swearing up and down the streets either, she’d probably have my ba– my head if you did, understand, son?” 

“Yeah, dad, I understand.” His boy rolls his eyes, eight going on eighteen already, and Jack can’t help but ruffle his hair a little bit.

“Atta boy, now why don’t you watch me for a turn and I’ll talk you through it, and then we’ll have you give it a go, that sound good?” His boy nods, taking a few steps back as Jack unfurls the lasso in his hands. 

“Now, the thing about lassoing is, it ain’t about throwing it. This ain’t like baseball, ok? You wanna deliver the loop to your target.” Jack lets his loop up, starting to let it swing over his head.

“It’s all about waiting, son. You’ll feel it after working up some momentum and that loop is tugging out of your hand, and that’s when you wanna release, like so.” He lets the lasso go, circling it around the old milk pail he set up for target practice and pulling the slack tight, his son letting out a little sound of wonder that makes him grin. 

“Alright, you wanna give it a go now?” 

It takes him a few false starts, getting tangled up in the lasso before he can really get the loop swinging over his mop-haired head, but when his son does let the loop go and snares his target just right, Jack can’t help the whoop he lets out, pumping his fist in the air before gathering him up in a tight hug, much to his son’s jaded dismay.

“Hell yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Gonna have you wrangling longhorns in no time.” 

“Dad, you’re smushing me.” He lets his boy go with a chuckle, holding him by his shoulders to get a good look at him.

“Too cool for your ol’ dad already, huh? S’okay, son, reckon I was the same way when I was your age. But I’m so proud of you, my boy. You wanna give it another go?” His boy grins at that with an enthusiastic nod.

“Hell yeah!”

“I better not be hearing what I think I’m hearing out there!” Her call has both their heads whipping around to the house, and sure enough, she’s leaning in the doorway, the crooked smile on her lips telling him that she’s only half serious.

“Well I have no clue what you’re talking about, sugar. Just having some good ol’ fashioned fun out here.” She pads out to them, barefoot in the grass, and Jack’s heart is fit to burst watching her lick her thumb before swiping it over their boy’s cheek, wiping away a smudge of dirt despite his protests. Jack pulls her into him by a belt loop, stealing a smacking kiss that has her laughing and their boy gagging dramatically. 

“Hey now, none of that. You wanna show your mama what I taught you?” 

“He– I mean, yeah.” With that, their boy jogs over to the old milk pail to collect the lasso. She meanwhile fixes Jack with what is an attempt at a stern look, though she can barely get her words out around a disbelieving laugh.

“If he ends up talking like a truck driver, I’m blaming you.” That makes him laugh, pulling her a little closer and landing another kiss to her pursed lips.

“Don’t worry about that, sugar. Our boy’s gonna turn out just fine.”

[theeoriginals]

CHAPTER 1:

MISS BLUE

“you smile over your burger, chattering brightly. so often, at our sunny kitchen table, hearing the mantra of the refrigerator i’ve thought there was nothing i could do but feed you; and i’ve always love the way you eat” - food poem, brenda hillman

summary: joel is smitten with the new neighbor.

warnings: literally none this is pure, tooth-rotting fluff.

baby blue series masterlist

JANUARY 21, 2000 

“Dad, someone’s moving in across the street,” 

“Stop being nosy, Sarah.” 

“She’s pretty, Dad! Come on, let's go say hi!” 

Joel heaves a sigh, looking up from the newspaper as his daughter practically vibrates out of her skin. “She’s probably busy unpacking, baby, we shouldn’t bother her.” 

Sarah sinks into the couch with a sigh, rolling her eyes in the dramatic fashion she’s come to adapt. Eyeing her pitiful state, Joel huffs and sighs quietly to himself before he folds his newspaper back up and turns towards her. 

“Five minutes– that’s it, alright? She’s got stuff to do, and it’s cold.” 

Sarah leaps up from the couch like she’s been electrocuted, a grin on her face that makes him shake his head at himself, because he’s oh so weak for his daughter. “Let’s go, come on– get your coat on!” 

“You’re gonna have a heart attack before we even get over there at this rate,” He huffs as she pulls him up from the recliner, dragging him towards the front door where their coats and boots reside, untouched in the laziness over the cold weekend they’d spent indoors. 

With a quiet groan, Joel bent over and helped Sarah slide her feet into her boots before getting his own on, and they zipped up their coats before stepping out into the gray Texas winter. 

Sarah wasted no time in running across the street, barely sparing a glance down their otherwise quiet street before approaching the moving truck and the woman walking boxes in and out of it, stacking them for a younger looking boy to take inside. 

“Sarah!” 

“Hi!” 

“Oh, my lord!” The woman startles, jumping slightly as she spins around to find the young girl standing a few feet away, her father approaching with an apologetic look on his features. She recovers quickly, a smile growing on her features as she crouches down to meet Sarah at eye level. “Hi, little lady, what’s your name?” 

Sarah rocks on her heels, suddenly sheepish under the woman’s full attention despite being the one to demand it in the first place. “I’m Sarah. That’s my dad,” 

The woman’s eyes shift to Joel, narrowing in acknowledgement as he ducks his head in a polite nod. 

“I’m real sorry about her, ma’am, she, uh, she saw your truck in the window and asked if we could come say hi. It’s hard tellin’ her no,” 

Sarah grins, and the woman nods in agreement. 

“With a smile as pretty as that, I wouldn’t ever tell you no,” She huffs a laugh, pushing hair off her face. She tells them her name, a pretty thing that she quickly mows over. “But I go by Blue. Probably won’t know you’re talkin’ to me if you call me anything but,” 

“Blue? Like the color?” 

“Sarah, manners,” Joel intones quickly, shooting the woman another apologetic look that she obviously waves off. 

Blue shakes her head, tucking her scarf further into her jacket as a gust of wind blows around them. “You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you, Sarah?” 

The girl nods, ducking her chin as Blue chuckles fondly. 

“Well, if you really wanna know, my daddy gave me the nickname. I had a teddy bear when I was young that was blue, and I carried the darn thing around so much he started tellin’ me I’d turn blue, and that turned into him calling me Blue. Now here I am, tellin’ my nice new neighbors to call me it,” 

Sarah’s eyes are wide in apparent wonder, and it’s a testament to how new the world is to kids, and how much it takes to grasp the concept that there’s a billion other people in the world with lives that happen beyond our reach, that we’ll never know about. 

Making a noise of excitement, Sarah shifts, wiggling uncontrollably in that childish manner that says she’s just got too much emotion for her tiny body to handle. “That’s so cool, I have a teddy bear, too, but he’s a baby teddy bear. Dad got him when I was a baby,” 

“Oh, really? I bet your baby teddy bear is way cooler than my blue one.” 

“I’ll show you it one day, and then you can show me yours,” Sarah quickly supplies. “Wouldn’t that be cool? They could play together!” 

Joel steps in, clearing his throat at his daughter’s tenacity. “Sarah, honey, Miss Blue’s probably real busy, I don’t know if she’ll have time to play with you.” 

“Oh,” Sarah looks downtrodden at the reminder, and her wide puppy eyes make both of the adults’ hearts just melt.

“Don’t worry about it, Sarah, I promise I’ll play with you as soon as I can, alright?” Blue looks up, shooting a sheepish look in the older man’s way. “As long as it’s alright with your daddy. What he says goes,” 

Joel shakes his head slowly, the smile pulling at his lips turning from the generic polite one to one of genuine kindness. “This one likes to make me think I’m the boss, but she’s the one that gets stuff done around here. Whatever works for you is what Sarah will tell me,” 

“Blue, stop your blabbering and help me carry your sh–stuff in! You can’t make me work for free, I’m a child,” 

The woman huffs, rolling her eyes at the voice that calls out from the front porch, and they all turn to look at the young boy standing there with a grumpy frown on his face. Sighing, Blue stands upright again, wincing at the creak of her knees as she does so. 

“Oh, lord,” She mutters the words, looking towards the boy. “Stop whining, Jimmy, or I’m tellin’ Mama you skipped school today!” 

The boy’s frown quickly turns into a scandalized gasp and Joel huffs a quiet laugh at the familiarity of the bickering as Blue turns to face them again. “That your little brother?” 

“Good guess,” She grins, tilting her head. “He’s a pain in the butt on a good day. Now, uh, about that playdate, little lady,” 

Her attention falls to Sarah again, and Joel finds himself content to let her pour over Sarah, knowing the little girl loves the attention. “Unfortunately, your daddy is right, I’m super busy right now– but how about y’all come over next weekend and I’ll cook us some dinner and we’ll play until we pass out. That sound good to you?” 

“That sounds awesome!” 

Joel hums, nudging his daughter. “What do you say, Sarah?” 

“Oh– thank you, Miss Blue,” 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, sweetie,” She smiles, flicking her gaze back up to Joel. “You got a name, or am I just referring to you as Sarah’s dad?” 

“Believe it or not, that’s what’s on my license,” He teases, earning a giggle from Sarah and a laugh from Blue that sounds like wind chimes on a porch, singing in the wind. “I’m Joel Miller.” 

“Joel,” She repeats, nodding firmly. “I like it. Almost as pretty as Sarah.” 

“Well, thank you, Miss Blue,” 

“I don’t think anyone’s ever called me Miss Blue ‘til you two,” She shakes her head, looking at the father and daughter duo. “You’re trouble, I can smell it.” 

The Millers’ looked at her with matching grins, feigning innocence that was nowhere to be found. 

It was the start of something beautiful, but that is the way most tragedies begin. Beautiful and sweet.  

─────

JANUARY 27, 2000 

A firm knock echoes from the front door, quickly followed by a less-powerful rap of knuckles that abruptly stops, and Blue laughs under her breath as she walks to the door, swinging it open to find her neighbors standing before her; Joel with a sheepish look on his face, and Sarah sporting a grin. 

“Hi, Miss Blue!” 

“Hi, Sarah,” Her eyes flick up from the little girl to her father. “Joel.” 

Joel dips his head in a nod, smiling softly. “Sorry we’re early, I could hardly keep her in the house all morning.” 

Blue waves his apologies off with a smile, gesturing for them to come in. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with being excited for a playdate, I have to say I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” 

Sarah bounds in the house excitedly, clutching onto the teddy bear in her arms that wears a small onesie around its fluffy body, and has a tiny pacifier sewn into its mouth. 

“Is that your teddy?” 

Sarah nods, holding it up for Blue to see as Joel shuts the door behind him, shucking his coat off and reaching for Sarah’s despite her complete dismissal of his existence. “His name is Babydoll.” 

“That’s an awful sweet name, Sarah,” Blue smiles, brushing a finger along the teddy bear’s cheek. “You could be like me, named after your teddy bear. You look like a babydoll to me,” 

The little girl laughs, the sound girlish and endeared, and Joel resigns himself to the fact that his daughter has attached herself to their new neighbor in just 6 short days. “Daddy, I want to be called babydoll now, like Miss Blue said!” 

Joel sighed, sharing a knowing smile with said woman. “Whatever you want, babydoll,” 

“I’ll go get Blue, and you and Babydoll can get acquainted with him while your daddy helps me start dinner, alright?” 

Sarah nodded in excitement, and Blue gestured towards the living room just off the kitchen, letting them help themselves to her cozy house. “Daddy, do you think Miss Blue wants to be my friend?” 

Joel smiles, letting his daughter hand her coat off to him as she sits herself on the couch. “I think she wants to be your best friend, baby.” 

Sarah smiles happily, her nerves soothed at his words as Blue walks back in the room, the famed teddy bear in her hand. Joel looks at it as she hands it off to Sarah, noting the faded hue to its fur, showing just how long she’s had it and how well-loved it is. 

“He’s a little old, but he’s still real pretty,” Blue smiles fondly at the bear, letting Sarah fawn over it and begin her self-appointed playdate. She turns then, fixing her gaze on Joel, who suddenly gets why his daughter is so infatuated. “You wanna help me out in the kitchen, Joel?” 

“Put me to work, Miss Blue.” 

She huffs a laugh, shaking her head as he lays Sarah’s coat down over the back of the couch and follows her into the kitchen, eyeing the few boxes left lying around, half-unpacked. “I’m sorry about the mess, I’ve been working all week so I haven’t been able to get all the unpacking done,” 

Joel shrugs her off, smiling softly. “I’ve got a little hurricane in my house, this is hardly anything,” 

“That precious little girl is no hurricane,” She points an accusing finger at him, tone full of teasing that warms him from head to toe. She’s got every bit of the southern charm his mother used to tell him about, the kind that was dangerous to a man like him. She always told him that one day, a sweet southern belle would sweep him off his feet one day and he thinks maybe his denial of it is coming back to bite him in the ass. 

“She’s got everyone fooled, but she’s a menace, I tell you,” He laughs through his words, thinking of how accurate they are, and how his home is always full of Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, running about, singing songs he thinks are made up half the time, and telling him all about her friends from school, and which teachers she likes more. “Are you settling in alright, though? We’re a pretty quiet neighborhood, but the Adlers next door will talk you right into your grave.” 

Blue’s face scrunches up, a short laugh leaving her lips as she grabs a pan from the fridge with uncooked burgers sitting on it. “Burgers good with y’all?” 

Joel nods, and she points to a box behind him on what he assumes is the kitchen table. “There’s a skillet in there, if you’ll grab that for me– thank you, good sir. To answer your question, though, I think I’m doin’ alright. I have already had a run-in with the Adlers, though, it’s funny you mention them, considering they ‘bout made me late to work Wednesday morning,” 

Joel grimaces in sympathy, nodding as he runs a hand over his slightly scruffy face, suddenly wishing he had shaved that morning. “That is… that’s rough.” 

“They mean well, I know they do,” She shakes her head, laughing pitifully as he nods in agreement. “I just can’t stand the small talk, it drives me nuts.” 

“No, I get it,” He eyes her as she grabs a few scattered bottles of seasonings, her fingers struggling to reach one further back on the shelf above the stove. Joel steps forward, reaching over her to grab it and set it down beside the rest of them on the counter. “Sarah usually throws me under the bus in the mornings, I always get stuck talkin’ to ‘em,” 

“She knows how to work the system, I can appreciate that,” 

He chuckles, stepping back out of her space as she throws him a grateful smile. “Between her and my brother, I can’t win.” 

“Oh, so that’s how you could tell Jimmy was my brother the other day. I wondered if you had any siblings,” 

“Got a little brother– Tommy. He’s a pain in the ass.” 

She snorts, laying the burgers into the skillet carefully. “Aren’t they always? I damn near had to lock Jimmy out the other day ‘cause he just wouldn’t leave.” 

“This your first move out of the house?” 

She nods, pressing her lips together. “It seems a little late, I know, but I was staying in the guest house for the past few years. I stuck around after college to help my daddy out with the farm, cause he’s too stubborn to hire any help.” 

Joel makes a noise of recognition, nodding understandingly. “Stubborn old men and their animals,” 

“Oh, it’s ridiculous,” She shakes her head. “But Jimmy’s the only one left at home now, I think he’s goin’ a little crazy being there with Mama all the time.” 

“I get it. Tommy practically lived with me after I moved out– hell, I can hardly get rid of him these days,” They share a look of understanding, perpetually exasperated as the eldest siblings. “What are you doin’ for work?” 

“I run a rehabilitation center in the city,” She speaks over the sizzling of the burgers, shaking out some frozen french fries onto a cookie sheet before sliding them into the oven. “Went to vet school and decided to come back home to do what I’ve always done, just with a little extra thrown in, you know? Lots of people ‘round here don’t wanna admit they need therapy, but if you let ‘em talk to a horse for a few hours, they’ll spill their guts.”

Joel smiles, another impossible wave of admiration hitting him. “You’re just a sweet thing, aren’t you, Miss Blue?” 

The woman ducks her head, smiling somewhat shyly. “I think you’re a little more charming than you let on, Mr. Miller.” 

He shrugs a shoulder, playing coy as she grabs two beers out of her fridge and pops the tops off on the edge of her counter before sliding one to him. 

“You’ll have to bring Sarah in one day, we’ve got lots of horses I’m sure she’ll love. One of our mares just had a baby, I’m sure she’d love to meet him.”

“I think she might try to convince me to put a horse in our backyard if that happens,” Joel takes a sip of his beer, smiling when his words make her laugh as she flips the burgers in the skillet. “And you can’t tell that face no, it’s impossible.” 

“You have raised an evil mastermind in the shape of a ten year old girl,” 

He sighs regretfully, shaking his head. “I don’t know where she gets it from,” 

Blue chuckles again, giving him another one of those looks that says she sees right through his bullshit. He feels a little exposed, a little raw, beneath her gaze, but it’s like a livewire when she reaches out and touches his arm. “I knew I smelled trouble on you, Joel Miller.” 

─────

FEBRUARY 14, 2000 

“I swear he’s got it out for me– no, why are you laughin’, Blue? It’s not funny!” 

“I’m sorry,” The woman snorts through her words, hiding her face in her hands as Joel pushes her arm playfully. “I just think it’s the funniest thing that a big, strong man like yourself is shakin’ in his boots over a sweet old man,” 

Joel waves his finger in her face, making an indignant noise. “That man is tryin’ to bring harm to me!” 

She throws her head back, shoulders shaking as her laugh echoes through her living room. “Mr. Carden is a sweetheart, he has been nothin’ but kind to me!” 

“Well, yeah, I’m not nearly as pretty as you– he doesn’t have any reason to be nice to me!” 

“Alright, charmer, I know you’re just being dramatic. Mr. Carden doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”

Joel huffs, shaking his head as Blue calms, catching her breath as he turns his attention to where Sarah’s reading quietly on the floor before them, occasionally looking up between them trying to decipher their conversation. 

A knock sounds from the door suddenly and Blue sits up with a confused look, making Joel raise his brows at her. “You expecting someone?” 

“Not unless I’ve got a secret date I didn’t know about,” She shakes her head, walking past him on the couch to head to the front door. Joel turns slightly, watching her open the door. “Can I help you, sir?” 

“Yeah, do you know the people that live across the street in that house?” 

“You mean the Millers?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you, uh, you got any idea where they might be? I’m–” 

“Tommy?” Joel stands up, sudden realization dawning on him at the sound of his brother’s voice. He stalks over to the front door, swinging it the rest of the way open as he stands behind Blue with a frown on his face. “The hell are you doin’ here?” 

Tommy scoffs, looking between Blue and Joel with growing suspicion. “What am I doing here– Joel, I was supposed to take Sarah out for dinner tonight. Valentines Day, courtesy of her favorite Uncle. I didn’t realize you made plans of your own,” 

Joel rolls his eyes, but shrugs apologetically. “I lost track of time, I guess. She’s ready to go, though– Sarah!” 

Her fast footsteps come down the hall quickly, and she lights up at the sight of her uncle. “Uncle Tommy! Are we still getting milkshakes?” 

Tommy shoots a wide-eyed look at Joel, feigning innocence. “Of course, but only after we eat dinner. Can’t have ice cream before real food.” 

“I’m gonna pretend I believe that, for my own sake,” Joel deadpans, his words earning a snort of laughter from Blue, who Tommy suddenly has his eyes on her, a wild smirk growing on his face.

“Lost track of time, huh, Joel? I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, ma’am, but it must have just slipped my brother’s mind to introduce me to his nice new neighbor. I’m Tommy Miller,” 

Blue shakes his hand, a knowing grin on her face. “I have heard plenty about you, Tommy Miller,” She tells him her name, and Joel plays it on repeat in his head, intertwining it with the twist of her lips as she says it. “Call me Blue.” 

“A real pretty name for a real pretty gal,” Tommy grins, shooting a wink at his brother, who glares over the top of Blue’s head. “I’ll get out of y’all’s hair– you’re obviously busy, and my favorite niece and I have big, big plans.” 

“Do not bring my daughter home covered in ice cream, riding a sugar high, Tommy, I’ll lock you out of the house.” 

“I would do no such thing, Joel, I’m a responsible young man,” 

“And a liar to boot,” Joel grunts, giving Sarah a tight hug as she grabs her coat off the rack Joel had hung for Blue a few days ago. “Be good for Uncle Tommy, alright? I’ll see you at home later, baby.” 

Sarah nods dutifully and lets him zip her jacket up to her chin, even though she immediately pulls it back down to her stomach. “Love you, Dad! Bye, Miss Blue!” 

“Bye, babydoll! Have fun with your uncle!” 

Sarah waves as Tommy hoists her up to his hip, walking her to his truck across the street, the two already whispering conspiratorially. Blue shuts the door slowly, turning to face Joel with a soft, but no less wicked smile. “So, since you are apparently kid free for a few hours… would you care to share a beer with me on this lovely day of love?” 

Joel nods, smiling down at her. “You askin’ me to be your Valentine, Miss Blue?” 

She shrugs a shoulder, confident as ever. “One of us had to make the first move.”

"Right you are, Miss Blue. Lead the way."  

─────

[obvious-captain-rogers]

“So what’s the favor then other than not telling Roy?” Aside from a short crackle, the line was silent for a long moment. “Phoebe?” “Could you train with me?” Phoebe asked quietly, like she were afraid of Jamie’s response. “I want to be the best that I can be before we even start and I’ve got weeks and I-” “Breathe, Pheebs,” Jamie said lightly and he could feel a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, we can train togethe’,” Jamie reassured her. “You can hop into my routine and we’ll see how you do, yeah? Find out where you need the extra support.” “Thank you, Uncle Jamie!” Phoebe squealed excitedly down the phone. “You’re the best and I love you!” Jamie laughed at that. “It’s a good thing I’m already sworn to secrecy, else I’d be tellin’ your Uncle Roy you said that.” He snorted softly to himself before shaking his head. “I’ll see you bright an’ early tomorrow, Phoe. Be ready to go at four AM and I’ll pick you up at your mum’s.” Phoebe’s sounds of excitement dimmed. “Did you just say four AM?”

Jamie trains Phoebe to get onto the Richmond Women's team

[otterandterrierwrites]

Trick or treat!

My head is completely empty right now, so idk, tell or show me something you really wanted to!

Also, I'm on my second read of the Vampire AU, which hopefully means the very much needed comments, and OMG IT'S STILL SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP IT'S PERFECT

Ahhh I'm so glad to hear that! Perfect read for Halloween 😁

Here's a treat! 🍬

So, I often don't save any cut scenes from my fics - it's either reworked, and all the unnecessary bits deleted, or just deleted. But with A tactical omission, I was having trouble figuring out where the fic was moving towards and ended up writing stuff that was taking me in a different direction. Thankfully @lajulie24 helped me get unstuck and I was able to write an ending that felt more coherent for the fic!

So, in the old version of the story, Han and Leia kept a running joke that Leia still couldn't understand Chewie, and this is an unfinished trip to Bespin scene that was going to be the ending:

Laughing, Leia pressed her face into Han’s bare shoulder to hide her embarrassment. And because she could.

‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that I was being so loud!’ she whined.

‘Hey, I wasn’t gonna clip your wings right then and there, sweetheart,’ he said with a smirk, thumb rubbing circles on her hip. She pulled herself back to give him an indignant look.

‘You encouraged me!’

Han gave her a one-shouldered shrug, hooking a leg between her thighs to pull her closer. There wasn’t any closer, but that didn’t seem to matter on those slow first days on his ship as they crawled towards Bespin, when everything between them felt novel and exciting, ripe like summer fruit, ready for them to sink their hungry teeth into.

‘I’m tellin’ ya, it doesn’t really matter. If Chewie’s around, he’ll know what we’re doing. And there ain’t much space for him not to be around, so...’

‘It can’t be easy for him, trapped here with the two of us and Threepio…’ she mused, drawing the tips of her fingers over his chest. ‘We’ll try to be more considerate. I don’t want him to hate me by the end of this trip.’

‘He could never,’ Han promised, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss over her knuckles. ‘He’s actually glad we… sorted this out.’

She gave him a sultry look and pushed her toes down as she stretched up lazily, revelling in the friction of her skin against his, imagining it was enough to strike actual sparks.

‘Mm, so am I.’

‘Matter of fact,’ Han continued, hands circling around her waist as he rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him, ‘I didn’t tell you what Chewie said earlier, did I?’

‘What was that?’ she asked distractedly, kissing the spot where his throat bobbed.

‘Well, see… Chewie says he thinks he's falling in love with you.’

Leia chuckled, pausing to look up at him.

‘Aw, I love him too—as a friend.’

Han didn’t laugh, though he was looking at her with a wistful half smile that spoke of something momentous. Leia pushed herself up and sat on her haunches over Han’s legs.

It had been so long since the last time he did it, it took her a moment to piece it together.

‘Oh.’

‘He also said you don’t have to say it back,’ Han added, hoisting himself up on his elbows. ‘He just thought you should know.’

Leia was fluent in a dozen languages, and could understand a handful more. But, at that moment, Basic failed her. Over the last three years, she’d mastered her understanding of Shyriiwook with Chewie’s help, but she was lost in translation as far as her own heart went. How could she put into words Han could understand the anguished bliss of her feelings for him, the joyful sorrow of knowing them reciprocated; happiness in knowing herself loved, grief in knowing it was ending, it was always going to end, one way or another, the inevitable loss she’d tried so hard to avoid a self-fulfilling prophecy that was coming to pass. The hurt that Chewie’s words caused her; the pleasure. The tightness in her chest that was her own confession pounding against her ribcage; the brittleness of the structure it was holding up, ready to collapse and bury her under should it ever get out.

If love was a language of its own, she was at beginner level.

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 13: Budding Spring - Episode 29: Romeo and Julius ~ Rosso e Blu ~

!! this and the next two chapters are the play! due to the movement and sound effects involved, it's best enjoyed when read along in-game!

[Buzzer sounds, the curtain lifts]

Businessman: “Thank you. You were a big help.”

Romeo (Sakuya): “You’re welcome! Call me again next time you go peddling!”

Businessman: “Yeah, I’ll be counting on you.”

Julius (Masumi): “Good work.”

Romeo: “Oh, did you get back just now, Julius? How did it go today?”

Julius: “The young master was in an awful mood.”

Romeo: “Guess being a private tutor isn’t easy either.”

Julius: “How did it go on your end?”

Romeo: “No problem. The products, the client and I are all unscathed!”

Julius: “You’re becoming a pretty popular choice amongst those looking for a bodyguard.”

Romeo: “I’m glad we can both put our skills to good use.”

Rogue: “Hey! Hurry the hell up!”

Julius: “That’s a commotion if I’ve ever seen one.”

Romeo: “It’s coming from over there.”

[Romeo walks away]

Julius: “H-Hey, wait. Don’t stick your nose into anything and everything–”

-

Rogue: “We’re tellin’ you to hurry and give us your money!”

Gildo (Chikage): “*groans*…”

Romeo: “Hey! Cut that out!”

Rogue: “Ahhh?”

Julius: “Do you even realize you’re also a wanted man?”

Romeo: “I can’t just let that go.”

Rogue: “What’re you whispering about? If you’ve got no business here, get the hell out!”

[Romeo draws his sword]

Romeo: “That’s my line!”

[The rogue draws his sword]

Rogue: “— — Ugh.”

[Romeo’s hood falls off as he dodges an attack. A sword fight ensues]

Julius: “Can you walk?”

Gildo: “— — Y-Yeah. Thanks.”

Rogue: “Dammit, move!”

[Julius’s hood falls off]

Julius: “Haaa!”

[A fight ensues]

Izumi: (You can see their growth even in a short sword fight like this…)

Izumi: (It’s thanks to the experience Sakuya-kun and Masumi-kun have gained that they can shock the audience with their growth.)

Rogue: “— — Hiiie.”

[The rogue runs away]

Romeo: “Go find a more respectable job!”

Romeo: “Hey, are you alright?”

Gildo: “... *groans*”

Julius: “Seems like he hurt his foot. Romeo, support him from that side.”

Romeo: “Where do you live? We’ll take you there.”

Gildo: “Sorry for all this.”

-

Romeo: “Should we treat your wounds? Or should we call the doctor?”

Gildo: “No… Thank you. I’m Gildo, what are your names?”

Romeo: “I’m Romeo Montague. He’s Julius Capulet.”

Gildo: “— — Montague? Capulet…”

Julius: “Don’t give our names out like it’s nothing.”

Romeo: “Ah–”

Gildo: “...”

Julius: “Is something wrong?”

Gildo: “No, thanks for saving me. I’ll be fine on my own from here on out.”

Romeo: “But if you can’t walk–”

Gildo: “Please leave.”

Romeo: “You sure?”

Julius: “... Let’s go, Romeo.”

Romeo: “Take care.”

-

Romeo: “I hope he’ll be okay.”

Julius: “His reaction when he heard our names was strange. Maybe he’s–”

Romeo: “Ah, you over there, excuse me. Do you have a moment?”

Neighbor: “?”

Julius: “Hey, Romeo. Listen when people are talking to you.”

Romeo: “Do you happen to know Gildo, who lives in the house over there?”

Romeo: “He hurt his foot, so he might be a little inconvenienced. Could I ask you to watch over him for a while?”

Neighbor: “The house over there? Ahhh, old man Giorgio and his Gildo. Who are you lot?”

Romeo: “We were passing by as Gildo was being attacked by thieves and saved him.”

Neighbor: “Thieves!? Gildo’s got nothing they can steal.”

Neighbor: “I think the late old Giorgio used to work as a chamberlain for a feudal lord in Verona, but you can tell by looking at the house. Gildo’s got nothing to his name now.”

Romeo: “Eh…?”

Neighbor: “Some people sure do horrible things. I’ll look over Gildo’s condition in a bit. Thanks, you two.”

Romeo: “Ah, no…”

Julius:  “That’s what I thought…”

Romeo: “Gildo’s grandpa worked in Verona. What a coincidence!”

Julius: “Maybe Gildo knows about us.”

Julius: “That could be why he was so shocked when he heard our names. There’s a chance he’ll tip us off”

Romeo: “No way!”

Julius: “Best we be careful.”

Romeo: “Should we come see him again tomorrow, then?”

Julius: “Did you hear anything I said?”

Romeo: “Of course I did. That’s why we should talk with Gildo directly.”

Julius: “*sigh*... Do whatever you want.”

Izumi: (The best thing about the three of them is that you can tell they’re having fun. They’re even more lively than they were during the rehearsals.)

Izumi: (I’m sure they’re happy to be performing in front of the audience of the MANKAI Theater.)

-

Romeo: “Good morning. Gildo, how’s your injury?”

Julius: “... Maybe he’s out.”

Romeo: “I don’t think he can go anywhere with that injury, though. Hm? The door’s ajar. What if he fell–”

[Door creaking open]

Julius: “Hey, don’t just barge in as you like.”

-

Romeo: “Ah, he’s just sleeping.”

Julius: “Let’s leave what we got for him and go.”

Gildo: “... !!”

Romeo: “Gildo? Are you okay?”

Gildo: “Why–”

Julius: “You know who we are, don’t you?”

Gildo: “... Yeah. I’m sorry for kicking you out yesterday, even though you went out of your way to save me.”

Gildo: “Though, it’s not me who knows about you guys. I think my grandfather did.”

Romeo: “Is that the grandpa who lived in Verona?” 

Gildo: “That’s right. But why do you know that--” 

Romeo: “We came from Verona, too.” 

Gildo: “Thought so...” 

Gildo: “You said you’re Romeo and Julius?” 

Gildo: “My grandpa had two friends. Their names were Alessandro Montague and Bruno Capulet.” 

Gildo: “Have you heard of them? I think they both died when they were around your age.” 

Romeo: “Eh...?” 

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[risottofan7]

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