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#gun build
adamjagger · 1 year
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My “Dream” rifle build
This is going to be a 2 part post. Part 1 I am going to explain the entire build and what all is on the rifle. Part 2 will be after I get some time on the gun and get a decent amount of rounds through it. So I guess I’ll just start with a complete parts list break down.
Receiver set - Geissele super duty set in odg
Handguard - Geissele MK16 13.5” odg
Buffer/tube - Geissele odg tube w/ super42 & H2
Stock - B5 sopmod bravo odg
Castle nut - forward controls design odg
Grip - B5 type 22 p grip odg
Lower parts kit - Geissele ultra duty
Trigger - Geissele ssa-x government
Charging handle - Geissele government odg
Forward assist - forward controls dimpled
Bcg - sons of liberty gun works
Barrel - ballistic advantage 14.5”
Gas block - forward controls design
Muzzle device - surefire closed tine warcomp
Mlok covers - slate black industries
Sling - Flatline Fiber flecktarn padded sling
Magazine pictured - odg Duramag
Not pictured yet
Light - modlite 18650 okw with a surefire cap and the Unity / modlite switch and a arisaka mount.
Optic - odg eotech xps2 on the odg Unity fast riser.
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So with a build list like that this should be a pretty damn good rifle. I’m not sure if I’d consider it a “dream” build or more of a I wanted to build a really nice rifle this year type of build. I love the 50 shades of green look the rifle has with all the different green anodized parts on it. At the time of writing this I just placed the order through brownells for the modlite setup. All that will be left after that is the odg eotech xps2. My original plan was to use the forward controls single or double dimple ejection port cover in odg but trying to find one of those is equivalent to trying to find Sasquatch. In the meantime I am planning on grabbing a odg magpul cover when I place my next brownells order. That should do just fine until I can get a fcd one.
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Overall I am extremely happy with how this has turned out and I am beyond excited to get it finished and head right out back to the range to send some rounds through it. In part 2 of this I will cover my first thoughts of the rifle, give you some overall weight with everything on it, and let you know my thoughts after putting some rounds through it. Let me know in the comments what you would have done different or what you like about this rifle.
Thanks for reading, and happy shooting!
Adam Jagger gun blog post #5 10/15/22
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ren-144p · 6 months
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something about the first few episodes of the terror having so many numbers. the men, the provisions, the inventory; but also the tension of counting. the scene where goodsir takes a picture of john franklin and his men and he's counting down the seconds. the lashes being counted down during hickey's punishment. and something about how in later episodes, numbers get lost. dates get forgotten. counting just stops. all of it becomes insignificant. like it was a countdown at first but now the time is just running out instead
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onlyfangz · 3 months
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i think percy de rolo becomes a lot more understandable when you remember he's like, 24.
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zeb-z · 1 year
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POV: you’re philza minecraft
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in-the-multiverse · 8 months
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Let him speak ‼️
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kirby-the-gorb · 7 months
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karagna · 9 months
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My Elden Ring:tm: experience
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silentgrim · 2 months
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night market outing!
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thebradleybradshaw · 2 years
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a-z nsfw prompt | b. bradshaw
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synopsis: nsfw alphabet for b. bradshaw (18+ MINORS DNI!!)
note: thirsty bitches only !! byeeee i blacked tf out writing this. this was highly requested, i hope i did it justice!! likes, comments, & reblogs are always appreciated. have fun and stay thirsty xx
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Rooster is completely exhausted after sex. He’s glistening from sweat and completely spent. He likes to dramatically lay there, huffing his breath, bragging about ‘how good’ it was. He’s dying for a compliment, hinting at you to also talk about just how mind blowing that experience was. Once the adrenaline has died down he becomes clingy. He makes sure that you’re cleaned up and assesses any damage he may have done, leaving little ‘sorry’ kisses wherever a bruise seems to appear. Once the cleaning process is done he’s curled up next to you, looking at you with such puppy dog eyes you’re ready to explode.
This is typically when the pillow talk happens. Now that he’s more relaxed he’s more open to talking about things. He’ll just spew out everything that has been on his mind as he absentmindedly plays with your hair. It’s quite endearing to watch him ramble on and on without any end in sight. Don’t even consider moving or getting up. The second he feels you shifting his arms are locked around you and he’s whining. “I don’t think so, honey.”
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Rooster is extremely proud of his hands. He’s a pilot after all. His hands control an entire airplane. One slip of the wrist and he’s fucked. His hands hold so much power in and out of work. He finds it humorous just how weak in the knees you get from his touch. Whether it’s a soft caress of your cheek, squeeze of your ass, or a strong choke - you love his hands. He has the shape and feel of your body completely burned into his brain, but still likes to take his time to explore further. You particularly like the callouses that form after his workouts.
On you, he’s a big fan of boobs and hips. It doesn’t matter the size - A to GG cup - he’s foaming at the mouth. He’s constantly buying lingerie, night gowns, or sports bras just so he can stare at them as you walk around the house. Your hips are more specific. Not just your hips, but that spot below your hips before your thighs -its delicious. It’s a place he’s holding onto for dear life when he’s being particularly rough. There’s constantly fingerprint shaped bruises in that area. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
In the beginning of the relationship Rooster advocated for safe sex. He always wore a condom. There was no room for potential pregnancy scaries. It was just sex- two horny people who were constantly in the mood. It wasn’t until a year later that things became different. He looked around the room, checking every possible drawer for a condom. THe two of you had completely depleted the box. It would take too long to buy a new box, and he needed sex now. He nervously asked you if you would be okay skipping the condom. After much consideration, you decided to have at it. You never changed your mind. The first time Rooster was able to feel you completely he made a sound that came from Heaven above. It was a pathetic whimper that lit a flame you never knew you had. 
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He's always wanted to make a movie. He wants to be able to watch over and over again. The way you move, the way you sound. He wants to keep a video on his phone whenever he needs to hear you, but you're not there. What keeps him from asking is the fear of it being leaked. It would embarrass him completely if it did. But, he does contemplate how much money the two of you could make with it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s had sex before - that much is for sure. Does he know everything? To an extent. Sex in the beggining was clumsy and a learning process. You had to learn what each other liked and didn’t like. However, once he knew something you liked - he never forgot it. His mental index card holds every position, feeling, and words that make you lose control. The more comfortable he got with you, the more he started asking to do new things. It’s not uncommon to be yeeted about the room as Rooster figures out the next surface to fuck on.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Oh, there’s a few.
Missionary - it’s a given. Having you underneath him gives him a power trip. You’re prey to his vices, trapped. He especially likes it when he wants to be as close as possible. He’s practically folding you into the mattresses as he tries to bury himself as deep as possible. He’s peppering kisses along your neck and ear, whispering sweet nothings and encouragement. He likes to feel your legs squeezing around his waist, your nails raking down his spine. It’s an absolute position for morning sex.
Cowgirl. Boobs. Rooster is below you and mesmerized by the way your tits bounce up and down with each thrust. He’s more quiet underneath because he’s so blown away he can barely breathe. It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He lays back with a grip on your waist and let’s you use him for whatever you need.
Face down, ass up - doggy. This is for when he’s feeling dominate and fiery. The sounds of hands smacking your ass are loud and echoing. He’s got a fistful of your hair in a makeshift ponytail. The other hand holds down your lower torso and he goes wild. You typically end up in this position if you’ve made him jealous. It’s the perfect way for him to put you in the place - no mercy just endless fucking.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
It really depends on the mood. If it’s a quickie before the two of you go to work he’s probably being a bit of an annoying tease, thinking it’s hilarious. He’s cracking jokes as the two of you calm down and try to get dressed for the day.
When the mood is more sultry he’s all serious. He’s making demands, praising, even possibly degrading. He’s the boss. There’s no room for silliness. You do what you’re told and that’s that. Although, that is more during anniversary or jealousy sex where Rooster is in more of a dominate mood.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
His hair is beautifully sunkissed. The carpet only slightly matches the drapes. He’s darker and more curly. He’s big on grooming. It’s not completely gone, but it’s nicely shaved down. 
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Rooster can be so intimate to the point of cheesy. He just can’t help it. The bedroom is his safe space. It’s where he can be vulnerable and emotional. When he’s in a soft mood he’s placing kisses to your temple and neck, gently thrusting at an agonizingly slow place. He likes to take his time and enjoy the warmth and heat that radiates from you. It’s like a fuzzy blanket that creates tingles down his spine. It’s not uncommon to get a few ‘I love yous’ and he’s staring into your soul. 
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
It happens. If you’re gone on a trip or he’s on a mission, it’s what he resorts to. He has a high sex drive and few of your polaroids in his pocket. He usually does it in the shower to get his day started. But it could never beat the real thing with you. He also has an arsenal of nudes that he keeps on his phone is a separate album. Sometimes he just stares at it.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Let’s discuss:
Bottom of the pyramid: hair pulling. It’s simple and it’s effective. He’s sandwiched between your thighs, eating away as if it’s his last meal. The first time you gave his hair a squeeze, he let out such a squeal you couldn’t help but do it again. The soft tugs on his hair seemed to give him more energy. You learned that by gently squeezing a fist into his hair he would release a delicious vibration that sent you right over the edge.
Middle of the pyramid: biting. It’s fun, it’s kinky. Since he always has to be clean and proper in his uniform, Rooster has created a game of leaving bite marks in places no one else could ever see. Pink and purple marks are scattered over your chest and torso. You find new ones every time you strip to take a shower. You’ll send a snap of the map of bite marks, where he replies with a simple “can’t wait to add more”. He’s gentle with his bites, but he likes for you to go full vampire. He wants to feel your teeth sinking into his shoulder as he’s pounding away on top. The sheer adrenaline and pain drives him an extra mile. As he’s changing into his uniform he swipes a finger over the bruise, reliving the fond memories of the night before.
And finally, the top: praise kink. This kink never fails to completely derail the two of you. Rooster is so starved for validation. All it takes is an ‘I’m so proud of you” and he’s bending you over the nearest surface. He’s had a rough day at work, everyone seemed to get on his last nerves. He was desperate to come home and hide away from the ick of the world. He came to you for a hug, an innocent simple hug to help make himself feel better. Your arms snaked around his neck, a hand resting on the newly cut, prickly hair at the base of his neck, “Aw honey, I’m sorry. I’m sure you did so good today, I’m still proud of you.” You made sure to keep your voice low as you dragged out the praise. His once tired muscles tensed up below you. Before you could register, you were being propped up onto the kitchen counter, Rooster practically tearing his uniform jacket from his body. He knew you were just teasing him, but he made sure to do something to make you exceptionally proud of him. As he always said, he ‘aimed to please’.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Work is, of course, completely off limits. He’s a man of privacy and reputation. The home? Fair game. Bathroom, kitchen, bedroom, living room. Every single part of your shared house has witnessed at least one sexual encounter. It was his mission to ‘bless’ each room of the house. Then there’s the truck. What’s more romantic than a gorgeous sunset on the horizon while being absolutely obliterated by your boyfriend? Nothing compares. As long as there is privacy, Rooster is all for it. He’s protective, he refuses to risk any chance of someone seeing you in such a private state. He really wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you got caught. 
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
All you have to do is ask. He’s watching you laugh at something your friend said, he’s hard. You’re in a bubble bath, hard. You’re innocently putting on clothes for an event, hard. You’ve almost become such a habit that he gets withdrawals after too long. Of course he understands if you’re not in the mood, or a bit too sore from the last time. But the minute you give him those fuck me eyes he’s all about it.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything that would cause you physical, deep pain. He respects kinks, but the protectiveness he feels for you would not allow him to participate. A little nimble and joking bite is soft. Anything with hitting or blood would cross his boundary. It’s just not something that he is interested in. He would respectfully say no and think of something else to try.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
It’s a two way street. His favorite sight is you on your knees, hair pulled back, and dick in your mouth. It’s beautiful, it’s feral. Your makeup is a mess and there’s a tear going down your cheek and he is done for. It’s something he constantly daydreams about. 
Rooster is a master with his tongue. He’s buried deep, airway constricted, and he goes to town. He never gets tired of your taste flooding his senses. He’ll go all night if you let him. The mustache adds a delicious burn that leaves you raw and aching. He’ll go until your voice is hoarse and you’re spent. It’s a hobby of his.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He’s fast and rough when the situation calls for it. If it’s angry, makeup, or jealousy sex you are fucked. He’s thrusting hard and fast, filth spilling into your ears, the sound of balls slapping skin all around you. He’s got a strong grip on your throat controlling your breathing. He’s teasing and degrading a bit, never letting you second guess who exactly you belong to.
In normal situations, it’s a gentle rhythmic pace. Rooster really likes to take his time. There’s kisses and whispers and soft touches. He’s complimenting you left and right. It’s the kind of rhythm that can last as long as the two of you possibly can. There’s no rush. He’s got the entire night free to do nothing but shower you in love and attention.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Loves them. Since he’s practically always in the mood, sometimes he needs a quick outlet to get it all out. Quickies are usually in the morning before he’s running late for work, lunch time when he randomly comes out, or before you all go out with friends. He doesn’t need much time, just enough to get the point across that he wants to fuck.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He is always up for learning what you like, and what he likes. He typically won’t say no unless it crosses a personal boundary. He likes to keep things spicy and interesting so that it doesn’t get old and boring. He’ll surprise you with new lingerie or a new flavor of lube just because he thought it would add a little bit of fun.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Normally he’ll give it all and exhaust himself in one round. He gets it all out so that the two of you can spend the rest of the time relaxing and spending time together. Unless it’s quickies, he can last two rounds. There’s a point where it can become too long and things start getting uncomfortable. He keeps it about 40 minutes, taking his time, switching it up, so that you’re not getting too exhausted. Unless, of course, it’s one of those nights where he wants to take as long as he possibly can. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He’s got the basics: vibrator, cuffs, blindfold. The vibrator is solely for your use. It gives him a power trip to be in control of it. He’s changing the intensity, placing it anywhere rather than where you need it most. He’ll turn it off just when you can feel yourself getting ready to spill- just be an asshole. The cuffs are his favorite. When he lets you take the reigns he loves nothing more than to have his arms cuffed above his head. It gives an extra spice to watch you on top while he’s restrained. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Rooster is an asshole. He loves to get you all hot and bothered, give your hair a squeeze and place a sloppy, deep kiss to your mouth and then dip. “See you later, baby.” and he’s out the door. You’re left gasping and incredibly frustrated. He loves the way you glare at him as he’s walking out the door. It does nothing but add to his ego to know you’ll be waiting for him when he gets back, even when you try to say you won’t be.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He’s a cursor. “Oh my fucking God, you feel so good” “holy shit” “fuck, fuck, fuck” amongst others. They’re low grumbles that rattle your chest, and octave lower than his normal voice. He gets in your ear, barely whispering “I know you like that, baby”. He’ll never be loud enough for anyone else to  hear. He keeps his grunts soft and low. He’ll let out a growl here and there when he’s being pretty rough. A lot of the time he’s breathing deep, brows furrowed in concentration, mouth slightly open as if he’s taken aback by how good you look being fucked.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Rooster was pissed. Guys had flocked to you all night and you absorbed all of the attention you could possibly handle. It was innocent on your end, no matter what their intentions were. You were having fun. Rooster did not agree. He was angry, insulted, jealous. He was pretty much silent the entire ride home, knuckles glowing white from his grip on the steering wheel. He followed you into the house, locking the door behind him. He found you in your shared bedroom, beginning to undress.
“Get on your knees,” his voice finally rang out. His eyes were nearly black in the dim light as he stood before you. 
You smirked, “excuse me?”
Rooster wasn’t in the playing mood. “I said get on your knees,” he repeated, “I didn’t fucking stutter.” 
Every hair on your arm stood up at attention. Slicked pooled in your matching lingerie as you contemplated disobeying him. You decided against it, slowly dropping to the floor and maintaining eye contact. Rooster held no expression on his face, but there was a sinister gleam in his eye. He held you hair in a makeshift pony tail, guiding a hand to his belt. “Get to suckin’.”
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
We’ve all seen the beach scene. Rooster is absolutely fucking ripped. Abs that run for miles, arms that could squeeze a melon in half. Arm veins that are delicious. He’s fucking hot, point blank period. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
It’s high. Almost annoyingly high. He enjoys sex. It can be fun, passionate, intense, whatever. He finds sex one of the best ways for him to show you his feelings. Sex is vulnerable and private and only you can see him in that position. Not to mention he just finds you extremely attractive and tends to think with his dick. It’s his favorite way to start and end a day.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Since he spends all of his energy fucking your brains out, he’s exhausted when it’s over. He takes a few minutes for aftercare before he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. He’s curled around you, still babbling on, as his voice begins to get quieter and quieter. He’s practically mumbling nonsense as he begins to fall asleep. And he always has the best rest of his life after sex. He’s satisfied, happy, and completely relaxed. You sometimes try to stay up just to look at his peaceful figure, but you’re just as spent as he is.
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bebemoon · 2 months
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kinnporsche | ep. 14
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arystocrat · 1 year
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my panel liners arrived.
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andy-clutterbuck · 9 months
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5x11 | The Distance
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code31-onthedancefloor · 11 months
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dont get me wrong while uli learning disco dancing and other horrifically outdated ways to pick up dates with harry is absolutely fucking hilarious i feel as if he would naturally gravitate towards kim more. not just because of the nilsen parallel but because he wants to be taken Seriously. and here is this very Serious (lonely) man who is Serious (repressed) about the way he loves and he drives a car despite being legally blind (stubborn) and has beaten the odds of survival time and time again (at the expense of others; which he feels as if he does not deserve). ulixes will learn Something from kim but it certainly won't be related to how to get steban to like him.
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sentientgopro · 8 months
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If there's one thing I wanna bring with me from Reddit, It's r/legoguns.
Now that I'm getting off reddit, there's one thing I wanna bring with me and it's this subreddit and idea, it doesn't seem to really exist on Tumblr. Here's some of my designs, and some of the best of other people's, with credit. All of mine can be realistically built with full functionality (mag release, charging handle, etc.)
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MK18 of mine
Okay, when i first posted i forgot a "keep reading" button lmao. Heres 1 image as an eyecatcher though. 29 more to go.
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Different kinda M4 built on same reciever
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PPSH41.
Onto other people's far superior stuff.
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"3rd version of my AUG" by u/vipeDoesStuff
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"Messed around with the idea of a Nine- Tailed Fox issued M4 rifle" By u/Foxlegofirearms
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"glOwOck" by u/VipeDoesStuff. Pure perfection.
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"Lego AWM!" By u/JimsLegoGuns. Also on YT under the same name, has some tutorials that are a great place to start when learning the general conventions of designing these things.
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"The Stoner Family" by u/FoxsLegoFirearms
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"My custom UMP-45 haven't posted the irl version" By u/_xMr__
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"4 generations of Aks" By u/FoxsLegoFirearms
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"Sig Sauer M18" By u/VipeDoesStuff
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"Finally made my 3a1 Carbine IRL" by u/JimsLegoGuns
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"Glock 17" by u/VipeDoesStuff
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"Glock 19 gen 5 MOS and a custom knife. Kinda EDC- ish." By u/jacqo_B
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"Family photo (yes I like John Wick)" By u/FrostTGA
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"TTI Pit Viper" By u/FrostTGA
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"Contractor .308 from Payday 2" By u/VipeDoesStuff
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"You want to see what 4 years of researching, time, effort, learning and pain looks like? Here you go." by u/FoxsLegoFirearms
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"Lego P90" by u/edups2
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"Some BO2 builds from a while ago" By u/edups2
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"The 7 Gun" By u/BallsHD4K60fps
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"Cock 19, sadly no balls" By u/BallsHD4K60fps.
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"LEGO M4 MW SKELETONIZED" By u/edups2
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"Lego Call Of Duty Zombies Ray Gun" by u/NickBrick
Aand thats image limit. Damn, I got carried away with that. Ive been picking very specifically too, there's ALOT of better stuff than just this that ive missed. Just take a little look through the r/legoguns sub. Anyway, I'm hoping these are gonna get some new people interested in this sorta thing, or increase the amount they're being posted on Tumblr. Lego guns sounds ridiculous but once you see how good they can be, it starts making more sense. So, I'm gonna tag this with #Lego guns in the hopes that it catches on. Thanks for reading. Including all Migration tags too, and 196 bc why not.
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jaehwany · 2 years
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Mr. Kinn just saved your life. Mr. Kinn used to be kind in the past. He loved his people.
Mile Phakphum as Kinn Theerapanyakul KINNPORSCHE THE SERIES (2022)
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callsign-madusa · 2 months
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it's a slow build, baby, until afterburn (63/?)
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Story banner by @bettycooper!
Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female OC (original character) StorySummary: Some things were inevitable. Living, dying. Flying. Bradley Bradshaw never doubted he'd sit in a cockpit one day. It was inevitable. He hadn't counted on colliding with Maddie Maitland over and over for the better part of a decade until, eventually, he realized the inevitable wasn't the sky; it was her.
Overall story Rating: Mature to explicit. Spicy, vulgar language. Violence. Mature themes (war, sex). Minors do not interact. (18+ ONLY you have been warned. Back out NOW if these make you uncomfortable. You are responsible for your own content consumption.)
Notes: This story is a giant Work In Progress, and absolutely, purely, entirely self-indulgent, full of tropes, full of cheese, and a self-insert OC who I wish I could be as cool. I make no apologies. I also haven't written it in chronological order (haha sob), so hopefully, I can fill in the blanks soon so we get to the good (sexy) stuff.
Warning: VERY SLOW BURN, VERY LONG (so many words!), spoilers for Top Gun and Top Gun: Maverick
Previous Chapters: Master List
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Chapter Summary: It's the day before the wedding, and the squadrons have a family barbecue. Unfortunately, some unexpected guests crash the fun.
Chapter Rating: Mature for language
Warning: War, combat, PTSD. Men being sexist/misogynist. Parental emotional neglect/abuse. Slut shaming.
Chapter Word Count: 14,531
Notes: Hello, everyone! Apologies for the long delay. I had a really hard time writing this chapter because I kept waffling back and forth about things. I took out stuff. Added stuff, then took out more stuff, and it still ended up pretty long. We're almost at the payoff. Wedding is next! Thanks for your patience!
—Rooster—
Madusa was already awake when Rooster wandered into the kitchen, looking rumpled and sleepy. When he caught his reflection in the microwave door, he saw that his hair was sticking up every which way and that he had giant pillow creases on his cheek. He also noted that it was almost 0900 which meant that Maddie let him sleep in.
Since Maddie was banned from touching household appliances other than the fridge and microwave, he began brewing a fresh pot of coffee. There was a half-drank coffee in a cardboard cup from the coffee shop on the corner sitting on the counter, either abandoned or forgotten; Maddie must be here somewhere, likely already preparing for the squadron barbecue. The fact that the back door was wide open clued him to her whereabouts.
Sticking his feet in worn tennis shoes and still only wearing pj bottoms and an old, worn NAVY t-shirt, he shuffled outside, squinting against the bright morning California sun to track down his beloved. He spotted the open door to the garage and heard a commotion. Madusa’s garage was detached from the house and was built at the far end of her yard where it spilled out into a back alley. He crossed the dusty yard (because lawns were a challenge in San Diego, and Madusa didn’t see the value in sinking time or money into plants or grass that were just going to die slowly and painfully) to poke his head in the garage. His Bronco was parked inside, but the garage was spacious enough to act as storage space as well. She stored her surfboards, her bike, and various other sporty things, all well organized and hanging on wall-mounted hooks or ceiling brackets. She also had an extra fridge and a chest freezer for ice. She was busy unloading bag after bag of ice from the back of the Bronco into the freezer.
When she saw him, Maddie smiled brightly. “Good morning, Sunshine,” she greeted, a bag of ice hauled onto her shoulder. She lifted up on her toes to kiss him; he still had to crouch down a bit to receive the affection. He smiled against her lips.
“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Rooster looked around, noticing she’d been very busy this morning indeed. There were all those ice bags and some cases of beer bottles, as well as beer cans and a bunch of different flavored soda cans ready to be stacked into the fridge; some were new, but most had been left over from Truth or Dare. There were also a couple of empty metal trash cans off to the side; due to his partying years, he knew that they were destined for chilling beer kegs. “Why didn’t you wake me? I would’ve helped with all this.”
“I’ve been up for a while and didn’t want to wake you. You looked so cute sleeping,” she told him; he felt his neck flush warmly from the praise, something he’d never get tired of. “I wouldn’t mind help stocking the fridge, though, when you’ve woken up a bit.” Maddie tossed another ice bag in the freezer, then nodded toward the beer and soda cans.
He pressed a palm to the small of her back and kissed her temple. “Lemme get dressed and get some coffee in me. I’ll be right back. Want me to bring you out a cup?” She nodded in thanks. Five or so minutes later, he was back, wearing jeans, a white tank top as his undershirt, as well as an open, unbuttoned festive Hawaiian shirt, and aviators perched upon his nose; Rooster had his cup in one hand and a fresh cup for Madusa in the other. She was worth more than the forgotten lukewarm cup on the counter. Madusa deserved premium roast!
Gratefully, she thanked him for the coffee, warming her hands around the cup since they were cold from hauling ice. Madusa was dressed comfortably in anticipation of the barbecue ahead. She wore a pair of well-loved and well-worn cut-off shorts (her ass always looked phenomenal in those). Her hair was loose and disheveled but contained with a backward Padres cap. She also sported a very loose, sleeveless black band shirt with the front tucked into her waistband; it was Metallica today.
“Mmm, thank you for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome, Sweetheart.”
She took another sip before setting it down on a nearby shelf to finish up with the ice before it melted. Rooster helped, and together, they made quick work of the bags and restocking the spare fridge. Once done, they pulled down a couple of folding tables from the rafters to place in the yard. Rooster had already set up the grill earlier during the beginning of their leave. After the tables, Maddie handed him a few camping chairs for seating, though people had been instructed to bring their own as well. Then, she motioned toward this canopy-slash-gazebo-type thing. “For shade,” she explained.
They put the aluminum frame together, made sure it was anchored securely in the dirt, and worked to drape and secure the tarp that acted as a roof right onto it. Maddie also had a slew of snacks like chips and pretzels and the like, as well as paper plates, solo cups, and disposable cutlery, all kept in the garage until they were ready to dispense them to the hungry masses.
Overall, it took them a bit over an hour to get everything settled. They went back inside for Madusa to survey the rest of the preparations. The inside fridge was already fully stocked with meat (and vegetarian-friendly ‘meat’ for Tofu and Payton), as well as salads, finger foods, like cut-up veggies, deli meats, and cheese. There were also a lot of water bottles stored here, in case people wanted legitimate hydration. She gathered up all the left-over hard booze from Truth or Dare and arranged them on the breakfast counter as a self-serve bar.
Surveying the state of the kitchen, Rooster nodded. “I think we’re ready,” he announced.
“Eh, we’ll be ready when Gretzky gets here with the kegs and the other grills, but yeah.”
“Good. Now, you can relax a bit.” Rooster guided her to sit on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. Madusa lasted only thirty seconds before she got back up. Rooster pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where are you going?”
“To get my list! I need to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
“You don’t know! I need the list to confirm!”
Rooster rolled his eyes. He decided to steal a couple of cubes of cheese and some crackers to munch on while waiting for his lady to return with her essential list. Back with her list in hand, she finally sat her ass down and started crossing things off, muttering to herself as she did. He couldn’t help smiling while watching her.
At one point, she looked up and asked, “Have you packed for the honeymoon?”
He blinked, not having realized that this list wasn’t just a barbecue prep list; it was also apparently a wedding list. “No?”
Madusa sighed. “Why not?”
“Because we leave Monday and it’s Saturday?”
“Rooster.”
“What?!”
“You need to pack before Monday so we’re ready to go on Monday.”
“We don’t leave until noon!”
She looked him right in his eyeballs. “Are you saying that you will be up early on Monday to pack? The morning after our wedding? The first morning we will exist as a married couple?”
Okay, when she put it that way: no, he wouldn’t. He planned on partying the night away on Sunday, and then making love to his wife all the way until sunrise and then sleeping a bit before they took off in the Mooney for their honeymoon destination.
“I’ll go pack now,” he told her.
“Thank you.” She sounded relieved.
He moseyed on into the bedroom to start his honeymoon packing. It should be pretty light since he wanted to be naked most of the time, though he and Madusa had agreed to a few non-naked public activities. As he pulled out his suitcase, she followed him into the bedroom, her eyes glued to her list.
“Have you filed the flight plan?” she asked him as he packed underwear and socks but deliberately only packed a couple of each because he wouldn’t need more than that. Honeymoon was naked time!
“I did file the flight plan,” he confirmed. Rooster chose some comfortable pants and shirts because they were likely going to have at least one sporty day, but only one sporty day! Honeymoon was naked time! Madusa checked the flight plan off her list.
“Have you confirmed with Maverick that he has to file the marriage certificate first thing Monday morning so we have enough time to get a copy before deployment? He’s completed the Ordained Minister thing, right?!”
“Affirm to both, Knight-2,” Rooster assured with a nod. Maverick had been insisting that Rooster call him ‘Reverend Maverick’ ever since he’d completed the damn course which was low-key driving Rooster crazy (and likely why Maverick was doing it), but the man was doing them a favor so Rooster didn’t complain. Much. He pulled out a nice, pressed suit, button-down shirt, and some dress shoes for a planned fancy dinner. But just one fancy dinner! Honeymoon was naked time! They were going to order room service the rest of the time.
He wandered into the bathroom to put together his toiletry kit. Madusa followed him, checklist and pen in hand. “Do you have the rings to give to Tofu on Sunday?” Tofu, their ‘son’ was still definitely the ring bearer, something Rooster found absolutely amusing.
“Yep. Rings are safe and sound and ready for ring bearer deployment.” She crossed that off the list.
“Did you go to the bank to withdraw the funds to pay the caterer and photographer?” Madusa was taking care of paying the florist and Penny (for the bar and alcohol even though Penny didn’t want payment because they were family now; Madusa insisted because she was an upstanding citizen who didn’t like taking advantage of friends and family).
“You were right there with me when I did!”
“I know. Just keeping you honest,” she told him with a smirk. She didn’t have to strike that item off the list because she already had. The day they went to the bank together! Toting his toiletry bag, Rooster moved back into the bedroom and tossed it into the suitcase. Madusa wasn’t done with her questioning. “Have you confirmed the honeymoon reservation?”
This time, it was Rooster’s turn to stare at her deadpan. “Baby, I’ve been looking forward to this honeymoon since you agreed to let me book something fancy. It’s booked and confirmed. I’ve checked, double-checked, and triple-checked. You are not getting out of being pampered for five days!”
She bit her bottom lip, cheeks flushing a pretty pink, and nodded. “Okay.” She crossed the honeymoon reservation off the list. Honestly, the honeymoon reservation was one of the first things Rooster had taken care of, after the engagement and wedding rings.
“Anything else left on your list for me?”
“No,” she acknowledged.
Rooster took the list and pen from her and set them both on the nearby dresser. “Good,” he told her. “Now, you can relax a bit.”
“I won’t relax until we’ve said the vows and have the rings on our fingers,” she admitted.
“Still worried your mom will do something?”
“Yes.”
“She hasn’t yet,” he offered hopefully.
“That’s why I’m worried.”
Bradley pulled her into a hug, his long arms wrapping around her like a protective shield against her mother’s deranged brand of ‘love.’ Maddie nuzzled into his chest. “No matter what happens with your mom, we’re getting married tomorrow, even if it’s just me and you standing in the living room with Maverick and our best friends as witnesses,” he promised.
Maddie nodded, face buried in his shoulder. He cupped her nape, thumb stroking up along the line of her neck to soothe her worries. He might not be able to protect her from her mother’s bullshit all the time, but he was going to do his damnedest to try.
—Madusa—
“Hey, dipshit! You better be dressed and decent, ‘cuz we’re coming in,” Gretzky hollered from the back door, making her laugh. Even though Gretzky had keys and, over the years, always had permission to walk into her place whenever he wanted, he began announcing himself. A part of her felt sad that their friendship was changing. Another part was grateful that he respected her relationship with Rooster so much that he would.
Reluctantly, she parted from Rooster’s hug, mourning it already, but he still let her know he was there with a warm arm around her waist. “Come on in, shithead,” she yelled back. “We’re dressed.”
“Are you banging? Because you can still bang while wearing some clothes.”
“No! We’re not banging!”
She rolled her eyes at her best friend when his head popped into view in the bedroom door frame; it looked like he was scanning the area to confirm that, indeed, no banging was going on. Once satisfied, he nodded. Then, Phoenix shoved him out of the way and walked right into Madusa and Rooster’s bedroom going for a besties hug with Maddie first, and then Rooster.
“Are you excited?!” she asked Madusa.
“For the barbecue?”
“No! For tomorrow!”
“Yes, I’m very excited for tomorrow,” she confirmed. Rooster nudged her. “What? I’m excited!”
“She’s worried her mom’s gonna do something,” Rooster blabbed, though honestly, it wasn’t like it was a national secret. She’d already confessed her anxiety to both Phoenix and Gretzky together and separately.
“Not on my watch!” Gretzky told them firmly, cutting a sharp hand through the air to indicate how serious he was. “I’ve been waiting seven years for you to get your head out of your ass about Rooster; I’m not letting anything derail this wedding.”
“Me and Rox have been waiting even longer than that. We’ve got the whole thing locked down; your mom won’t get anywhere near you or this wedding,” Phoenix assured. Phoenix studied her for a beat. “Why are you so worried? Has your mom done something?”
“No. That’s what’s worrying me,” she said, echoing her earlier words to Rooster. Phoenix frowned. Gretzky crossed his arms over his chest, looking grim. “I thought, for sure, she’d have done something by now to try and take over or cause drama and it’s been radio silence. That usually means a nuke’s about to drop.”
“Well, she’s not dropping it on your wedding,” Gretzky insisted vehemently. “You read my SecOps Order. I’ve got a solid security plan and a contingency.”
“I know, and it’s good,” she agreed. “But you and I know—probably better than most—that no plan survives first contact with the enemy. My mother is definitely the enemy.” Gretzky’s solid, confidence stance sagged a bit; his shoulders dropped and he visibly frowned. Madusa didn’t want to rain on Gretzky’s parade, not when he put so much time into making sure the wedding went off without a hitch, but Gretzky didn’t know her mother like she did. Reaching out, she punched Gretzky on the shoulder lightly in an effort to reassure him. “The plan is good,” she reiterated. “I appreciate all the work you put into it. I hope I’m worrying for nothing, but if my mother decides to fuck things up, we may need to improvise tomorrow, that’s all.”
“I fuckin’ hate your mom,” Gretzky declared. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rooster nod.
“Yeah,” Maddie sighed. This time, it was her turn to frown. “You know what’s so messed up, though? I still love her. I don’t like her, but I still love her.”
“She’s your mom,” Rooster said gently. “Of course, you would.” Phoenix and Gretzky agreed.
“Deep down, I know that, if she showed any kind of genuine remorse or willingness to change and fix things with me like my dad has, I’d probably end up forgiving her. That kind of scares me a little because I also know that I haven’t forgiven her only because she’s been incapable of actually showing genuine love or remorse. If she ever gets acting classes, I worry I may fall for it.”
“You won’t,” Phoenix assured. “You are extremely adept at reading people. And, you’re also a very skeptical person in general. To fool you, she’d have to keep up the act all day, every day for god knows how long. From what you’ve told us about your mom, she can’t even keep up pretenses for more than a few hours at a time, and that’s being generous. She’d never be able to keep the mask up long enough for you to believe it.”
Maddie snorted, though she didn’t feel all that amused about the situation. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” she retorted. It wasn’t always comfortable when people who knew her well held up a mirror to her shortcomings.
“When it comes to you interacting with most people, you could do with a bit less skepticism and more faith in humanity,” Phoenix started gently. “But when it comes to dealing with your mother? Being skeptical of anything she does is definitely a good thing. It’s what’s kept you sane all these years.” Phoenix offered a small, sympathetic smile.
“Survival mode,” Madusa added with a sad nod.
Phoenix echoed the nod. “Survival mode. I hate that you’ve had to live like that but I’m glad that you were able to find a way to protect yourself, even if it does make it a bit harder on all of us.” Phoenix motioned to herself, Gretzky, and Rooster.
“I’m sorry I’m so difficult on all of you.”
Gretzky waved her off. “You don’t need to apologize, dipshit. We get it.”
Her smile was small but appreciative. “Thanks. And, thanks for all the security measures you’ve implemented for the wedding. I’m not trying to shit on any of it when I say that my mom somehow always manages to damage things in new and unimaginable ways; it’s just the reality of it. Despite everything, though, one thing’s for sure: there’s no one I’d rather be in the trenches with than you.” She motioned toward the three; these people were her family, no matter what. “I’m extremely confident in all of our abilities to improvise under combat situations so…no matter what my mother throws at us, we’ll figure it out.” The pep talk was likely more for her own self than anyone else.
Rooster pulled her into a hug, burying his nose in her hair, while Gretzky and Phoenix nodded, both smiling.
Before anyone could say anything else, they heard someone call out. It was Jackson. “Maddie! Confirm that Eggplant Status has been lifted and it’s safe to walk in! How copy?”
“ONE TIME, JACKSON. I FORGOT ONE TIME!”
“ONE TIME IS ENOUGH!” Gretzky snorted out loud while Phoenix giggled and Rooster grinned, utterly pleased with himself for some reason.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Madusa sighed before responding loudly, “Affirm, Maitland. Eggplant Status has been lifted. Location cleared. Proceed with infil. How copy?”
“Good copy,” Jackson responded cheerfully before showing up in the bedroom doorway. “Why are you all in the bedroom?”
“We were in here when Gretzky and Phoenix arrived and we all got to talking,” she explained.
“She’s worried about your mom.” This time, Phoenix was the blabbermouth.
Jackson made a face, with wide eyes that conveyed they’d seen some shit. “I mean, I don’t blame her.” To Maddie, he repeated, “I don’t blame you. She hasn’t said or done anything yet about your wedding and you know what that means…” He let the thought trail, as Madusa nodded. Then, he mimed an explosion, complete with sound effects.
“Boom,” both siblings said at the same time.
“I fuckin’ hate your mom!” Gretzky complained again.
“She’s a lot,” Jackson confirmed. “Maddie’s the only one of us who can handle her.”
“That’s because I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
“We don’t negotiate with her either!” Jackson insisted. “When she doesn’t get her way she starts crying and wailing and making us feel guilty and shit. All we want is for her to stop crying.”
“And that’s why she always gets her way,” Maddie pointed out. “Can’t let the crying affect you. Gotta steel yourself and not let it move you.”
“That’s easier said than done, Maddie. Not all of us are emotionally closed off like you are,” Jackson retorted with a laugh that had a slight defensive edge to it, and wow, having the brother she was closest to describe her as emotionally closed off sort of felt like a kick in the gut, actually. She even felt Rooster stiffen next to her. Quickly, she took his hand, squeezing it both to reassure him she was okay but also as a silent plea to not kill her brother, please.
Unfortunately, Madusa had been trying to soothe the wrong person because Phoenix jumped in, her dark brown eyes narrowed sharply. “She’s not emotionally closed off,” Phoenix snapped quickly.
“Nat—“ Maddie started, but Nat was on a mission. Phoenix took a step to physically put herself between Maddie and her brother, a move that Maddie recognized. It was one she used to shield Jackson from their mother all the time.
Jackson wasn’t expecting this level of hostility at what he probably thought was an off-hand comment. He held his hands up and tried to placate Phoenix, which was the absolute wrong way to handle Madusa’s fierce friend. “Listen, I just meant—“
Phoenix didn’t even let him finish his sentence. “I know what you meant because you said what you meant. Maddie isn’t emotionally closed off. In fact, when she trusts and feels safe with someone, she’s one of the most loving and supportive people I know. If you don’t know that, then maybe you, your brothers, and your family should ask yourselves why she doesn’t trust or feel safe enough to share that part of herself with you.”
What Phoenix said seemed to have driven a knife right through Jackson’s soul because he visibly flinched, taking a slight step back before landing eyes on Maddie, looking for confirmation. Maddie was, instead, more focused on her friend.
“Nat,” she said again, more gently this time, and placed a hand on her bestie’s shoulder to prompt the other woman to look at her.
The fight in her wasn’t gone entirely, but Phoenix did soften. “Maddie, I know you hate it when the boys defend you, so I’m defending you this time. What he said was wrong and uncalled for and frankly, you always let him and your brothers get away with that kind of shit when you’d kick anyone else’s ass for it.”
Intellectually, Maddie knew Phoenix was right; her brothers often said things that were sharp and painful, probably because they felt that Maddie was emotionally untouchable. Maddie also knew that she cut her brothers (minus Aaron) a lot of slack in that department because they were her brothers and, deep down, she was still that little girl who wanted her big brothers to love her. It was so strange to recognize that she allowed her brothers the same leeway the brothers gave their mother, and likely for the same reason. It was like, when it came to her brothers, her heart took the lead, while, when it came to her mom, her head was in charge because Maddie had tucked her heart away from her mother as best she could a long time ago. She’d never done the same with Tommy, Roger, and Jackson.
Madusa looked around the room. Rooster and Gretzky both looked like they were ready to cheer for Phoenix, clear that they agreed with her. Jackson was looking down at his feet, never able to really withstand being chastised. He could handle it at work or in a professional environment, but in his private life, he found it difficult. Maddie sighed.
First, she reached out to Phoenix, pulling her into a side hug, and kissed her temple. “Thank you for defending me,” she whispered. “I appreciate it, Sweets.”
Second, she silently motioned to Rooster, Gretzky, and Phoenix to give her and her brother a little space. Since the three knew her so well, she didn’t have to utter a word; they all quietly filed out. Rooster looked at her over his shoulder before vacating entirely, offering her a small, supportive smile.
Once they were alone in the room, Maddie kicked Jackson’s boot lightly and ducked her head so her brother would look at her. “We’re good, you and me. Okay?”
“I’m sorry,” he started. “I wasn’t trying to be an asshole but I managed to be one anyway.”
Maddie sat on the bed and tapped the spot beside her to prompt Jackson to sit. When he did, she slid an arm around his shoulders. He rested his head against hers. Even though Jackson was the older brother, Maddie always felt like it was her job to protect him; she protected him against Aaron and Jeremy Lawson and anyone who dared come after him in school. She protected him against their mother. Whether either of them realized it or not, she seemed to have taken on a big sister role with him, despite her being the youngest. Maybe it was because he was the youngest boy and she was a girl, and girls were conditioned to be caretakers (even though she never felt the desire or ability to be a caretaker). Maybe she simply considered him one of hers, and because he was one of hers, that meant she had a responsibility to protect. Ultimately, the why of it didn’t really matter.
She petted his hair to soothe her brother. “It’s okay. I know that the mom thing makes us all crazy and I kinda started it by telling you how I think you should handle her instead of supporting you. I know you handle her in a way that makes her bullshit survivable for you. I’m sorry, too.”
Jackson was quiet for a long beat, then shrugged; he was this big, strapping guy, a firefighter and Marine, but that little shrug made him seem like the little boy she grew up with, the one who just wanted to be loved and accepted.
“I really wish I could be more like you, you know? When dealing with Mom,” he said finally.
“You don’t have to be like me,” Maddie assured. Honestly, Maddie wouldn’t wish her messed up psyche on anyone. “You only have to be Jackson. You know best what you need to do to protect yourself emotionally. You do what works for you. I’ll do what works for me. At the end of the day, the real villain here is Mom. We wouldn’t have to do or say any of this if Mom would just be…normal.”
With a long, shaky sigh, he sat up straighter and looked at her. “Do you really think Mom’s going to try to mess up your wedding?”
“Yeah,” Maddie replied very seriously. “She doesn’t like being told what to do—or not do—and doesn’t like it when anyone but her is the center of attention, least of all me.”
“I won’t let her do anything to mess up your wedding,” Jackson said firmly. Maddie appreciated it, but she also knew that when it came to their mother, Jackson’s backbone left something to be desired. It was still a nice sentiment on his part.
“Forget about Mom,” Madusa told him, waving it off; she didn’t need Jackson in their mom’s line of fire. “This weekend’s about good food and good people, and when we get to the other side of it, I’ll be married.”
That, thankfully, was enough to earn a beaming smile on Jackson’s part. “I never thought I’d see the day!”
“You and me both!” she agreed, laughing. “Only Rooster could ever get me to change my mind about it.”
“I like him for you,” Jackson said, his smile softening. “Even if I did see his eggplant.”
“I forgot the system one time!!”
Her brother smirked. Maddie was glad he seemed to feel better. They didn’t have time to talk further because the front doorbell rang. When she and her brother emerged from the bedroom, they saw Rooster opening the door to a pair of hands carrying enough serving dishes that they obscured their owner. Once they spotted Tofu’s head poking around the arrival and heard the Texas drawl of a greeting behind the tower of dishes, they all realized it was Hangman hauling these goodies.
“Mind takin’ a few of these, Rooster?” Hangman asked as Tofu pinched the bridge of his nose, looking exasperated.
“Sure thing.” Rooster grabbed two large bowls, leaving Hangman with two large, flat, rectangle dishes.
“What’s all this?” Madusa asked.
“I wasn’t sure what you might have on deck for our resident vegetarian here, so I took the liberty to whip up a few things. Just to make sure he had enough to eat,” Hangman informed her as he set his dishes down to Rooster’s bowls on the counter. Madusa quirked a brow at the man, who held up his hands in surrender. “Now, I wasn’t trying to step on your toes. I know you were in charge of the grocery list, but we can’t have too many dishes, can we? Not with this group of heathens.”
“What have you got?” Rooster asked, already poking and lifting foil covers. Hangman slapped his fingers sharply enough for Rooster to pout.
“Leave these for the veggie eater!”
“I was only curious! What’d you make?!”
“It’s not for you!”
“I’m not saying it is! I just wanna know!”
They played some sort of silent game of chicken with glares and pouts until Hangman relented and unwrapped the dishes for visual observation only. “I made a corn, black bean, and avocado salad, a bean medley salad, my mama’s famous potato salad, and a big dish of mac & cheese. We do need to stick it in the oven to bake for a bit before serving.”
“On it!” Rooster was already setting the oven to pre-heat. “I had no idea you knew how to cook, man,” Rooster announced cheerfully.
“My mama didn’t raise no fool,” Hangman replied easily. “Plus, livin’ alone, you kinda have to learn, you know?”
“Madusa lived alone for years, and she didn’t,” Gretzky interjected like a little shithead, making Phoenix and Jackson snort.
Madusa glared at him. “That’s because I hate cooking,” she replied slightly defensively.
“Sure, sure. But hate or not, it’s a good skill to have. One you lack.”
“Well, according to you, if I even look at a stove, I’ll burn my house down so think of my lack of cooking skill as a survival technique,” she sassed.
“She doesn’t need to cook,” Rooster told them. “I’ll cook for her.” Her man smiled at her so softly and goofily that Madusa’s heart did a little backflip in her chest. She smiled right back at him.
Tofu nudged her as Hangman and Rooster handled the delicate operation of finding space in the fridge for the salads. “Hey, I’m sorry about Hangman encroaching on your food procurement role. I tried to tell him that you always make sure I have vegetarian-friendly food at these things, but he insisted.”
Madusa waved Tofu off with a fond smile. “It’s fine. My niece is a vegetarian too, so I’m sure she’ll appreciate the extended selection.”
“Oh nice; I didn’t know that. How old is she?”
“Thirteen. It’s kind of new and a bit of a power struggle with my brother, who’s a die-hard carnivore, so when she visits or we hang out, I make it a point to give her the freedom to eat what makes her comfortable.”
“That’s cool of you.”
She shrugged, but smiled. “Thanks. I just want her to feel safe enough to be herself with me, you know?” Tofu nodded. “And I think it’s really nice that Hangman went to all this extra effort for you.”
“Sometimes I feel like he’s overcompensating because he feels guilty for eating meat in my general vicinity.”
Madusa laughed softly. “Maybe, but the fact he’s going out of his way to make sure you’re fed is really sweet.”
Tofu cast a sideways glance at her, though there was a small smile there. “It is. I just wish he’d turn it down a notch or two. I don’t care if he enjoys a steak! I just don’t want to eat one!”
She patted Tofu on the shoulder in sympathy. “Give him a little time; I’m sure he’ll mellow out when he realizes he can still have his rib-eye without guilt.”
“One can only hope because he’s driving me nuts.”
“I think you like it,” she countered.
Tofu didn’t deny it. A few minutes later, Maverick poked his head through the back door and announced he’d also brought over a grill to set up, which earned a cheer from the male contingent in the kitchen. The whole group navigated out to the backyard, and then Gretzky unceremoniously shoved her out of the ‘grill zone.’
“You’re banned,” he informed her very seriously.
“It’s my own yard!” she protested.
“I don’t care! You set the last barbecue on fire; we’re not taking any chances! Last time we were in a park but now, we’re in a residential neighborhood. You set these bad boys on fire, you’ll take out the whole street! We’re enacting a five-foot radius around the ‘grill zone’.” He then hammered in these ground stakes around the grills as markers. “You cross one toe over the line and you’re in time out!”
“What if I want a burger?! They’ll be all the way over the line!”
“Rooster’ll get you your food,” Gretzky declared. Tofu nodded solemnly; he’d been present during the park fireball fiasco. Madusa pouted.
“It’s safer for everyone this way, Madusa!” Tofu said, trying to appeal to her sense of community safety.
“I’ll set up a fire station just in case,” Jackson added because, she guessed, he didn’t feel confident in her ability to follow the rules. She could follow the rules! She just didn’t follow the dumb ones.
Rooster slid an arm around her waist and nuzzled her ear. “Don’t worry about the grills, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’re fed. This way, you get to relax.”
“Okay, fine,” she said, eventually relenting to the inevitability of the situation. Plus, she very much believed that Gretzky would tackle her to the ground if she did wander into the ‘grill zone’ and she didn’t want to risk a broken clavicle the day before the wedding. “But not because anyone’s making me stay out of the ‘grill zone.’ It’s because I like it when men do all the cooking,” she retorted.
“Whatever keeps you away from the open flames,” Gretzky sassed.
Her annoyance at the whole situation faded when Rooster kissed her nose.
—Rooster—
The barbecue was in full swing. People and families from both squadrons had been filing into the backyard for the last couple of hours. Rooster loved watching Madusa with her squadron. When the various wives and kids started to arrive, Madusa brightened like the most beautiful sunflower turning into the sun. She loved being Aunt Madusa. At some point, her brother, his wife, and their kids arrived, and the chaos turned up to a thousand because Ariel, their youngest niece, was a little tornado. She ran directly at Rooster, screaming in delight.
“Uncle Rooster!!!” Ariel threw herself at him like a little cannonball.
“Princess Unicorn Ariel!” he greeted as he (barely) caught her, though she almost knocked the wind right out of him. Today, she was wearing purple tights with pink hearts, a sparkly neon yellow tutu with an orange shirt, some light-up sneakers, and a pair of pink fairy wings. “Hold up! Something’s different! I need to investigate.” He’d been expecting some kind of unicorn getup, not fairy wings, so he flipped her around to inspect the wings, then flipped her upside down to inspect them some more. She giggled and squealed the whole time. Finally, he righted her and settled her into his arms so they could have a one-on-one chat. “You’ve got wings!” he pointed out very astutely because he was observant like that.
“I’m a fairy!” she announced proudly.
“I thought you were a unicorn!”
“I am a unicorn. I’m a Fairy Princess Unicorn.”
“Oh snap, you got a promotion?!” he teased.
She nodded solemnly. “Yeah. I wanted to wear my unicorn dress today, but Mommy said I wasn’t allowed to wear it because I have to wait until tomorrow,” she told him with a long-suffering sigh because—listen—it was hard being a kid! Rooster believed her! “She said she didn’t want me to get it dirty before Aunt Maddie’s wedding but unicorns don’t get dirty. I tried to tell her!”
Rooster was nodding along because, sure, unicorns never getting dirty sounded reasonable, but in the end, even a Fairy Princess Unicorn had to follow Mom’s rules. “Well, I dig the wings. Congratulations on your promotion, Fairy Princess Unicorn Ariel!” Ariel’s pleased smile sparkled. “But you know what?”
“What?!”
“There’s a tradition in the Navy and the Marines that when you get a promotion, you have to buy everyone a drink!” Nearby, he heard Gretzky snort.
“You do?” Ariel was studying him as if trying to determine whether or not he was lying.
“Yep, you do! Ask Uncle Gretzky.”
Gretzky backed Rooster up with a nod. “He’s right, Squirt.”
Ariel smacked her forehead with her hand. “But I don’t got any money! I’m only five!” She held up her hand with five little chubby fingers splayed out. The two men tried really hard not to laugh at the dramatics.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll spot you,” Rooster reassured her. Carrying her into the middle of the yard, he called for everyone’s attention. “Everyone, this is Ariel. She’s just recently been promoted to Fairy Princess Unicorn! Peep the wings!” He held her up so everyone could admire the wings. The crowd full of aviators ooohed and ahhhed and Ariel seemed to really bask in the attention. “Since she just got promoted, tradition dictates she buys everyone a drink so…your next juice box is on her! Form a line toward the kitchen and we’ll hand out your choice of hydration!” Cheers all around!
“You’re a goofball,” Maddie told him with a smile as she met him at the back door into the kitchen.
“Maybe so, but I’m your goofball,” he said with a smile before kissing her.
“Ew! Aunt Maddie, you kissed a boy!”
“I know! Uncle Rooster and I are getting married tomorrow, and—sorry to break this to you, Ladybug—but when people get married, sometimes they smooch!”
“Gross!” Rooster and Madusa both tried to hide their chuckles. “I don’t ever want to get married or smooch a boy,” Ariel declared solemnly.
“That’s completely up to you,” Madusa informed her.
“Really?” Madusa nodded. Ariel seemed skeptical. “Grandma said girls have to get married when they grow up.”
“Grandma is wrong. You don’t have to get married or smooch anyone. If you change your mind, that’s okay, but you don’t have to if you don’t want.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky promise,” Maddie told her very seriously. To seal the deal, the two hooked their pinkies together in the most sacred of unbreakable promises. Payton was right by Maddie’s side, watching the whole exchange. If Rooster had to guess, her smile was a cross between being amused with her sister and absolutely mortified at how goofy her aunt was being.
“Hey, kid!” Rooster greeted their eldest niece.
“Hi, Rooster.” She smiled shyly. Rooster figured it would take the teenager a lot longer to warm up to him than a five-year-old fairy unicorn princess, so he didn’t take it personally.
More people poured into the small desert-scape of a backyard. Moose and his family showed up not long after the Maitlands. Rooster met Moose’s wife, Alice, for the first time, and he could tell immediately why Maddie liked her so much. She was wicked sharp, she was funny, she was always smiling, and she was incredibly kind. She also teased Moose relentlessly, which was fun to watch. They were a great match because Moose gave as good as he got. The couple had been married for twenty years and still acted like newlyweds; Rooster really hoped he and Madusa would have as long and as fun a marriage as this military power couple.
He also got to meet Moose’s kids. DJ was a giant of a kid (taking after his dad) of about sixteen. The kid seemed like he had a crush on his Aunt Madusa because he blushed real hard and real red when Madusa greeted him with a hug and blushed even worse when she teased him about his height and how cool it was he was applying to the Naval Academy. Rooster couldn’t blame the kid for the crush; he’d been a teenage boy once and he’d have fallen instantly in love with a woman like Madusa. Hell, he had fallen instantly in love with her when they met at indoc.
As for Moose’s daughter, Lucy, she had just turned fifteen and seemed hit it off like gangbusters with Payton with the two forming a powerhouse duo of sharp and funny teenage girls. Of course, it also helped the two girls seemed to be entirely star-struck with their Aunt Madusa. The girls would groan and hide their faces when Maddie said something they felt showed how old and cringe she was (because to thirteen and fifteen-year-old girls, being in your thirties meant you were ancient and you didn’t understand anything). Rooster was onto them though, because he spotted how, Payton especially, hung on every word and looked at Maddie like she’d hung the moon. Madusa always made sure to include the girls in her conversations, never waved them off, and never made them feel like they were a bother. She took them around the yard, introducing them to pilots and Wizzos (though Lucy knew all the Black Knights) and shared some stories about their callsigns and what they meant. He noticed that the female aviators had gone out of their way to welcome the young girls into their conversations, which they both seemed to really enjoy.
At one point, there was a bit of a dramatic situation when Jacob, Crispy’s three-year-old son. The little one had feelings about the ketchup dripping off his hot dog and right onto his side of mac & cheese. Thankfully, Uncle Tofu came to the rescue and scooped the contaminated mac & cheese off the little one’s plate right onto his, and replaced it with a fresh scoop. Then, at some point, Omaha, Harvard, and Yale were having a very heated discussion about football. Somehow, a burger became victim to gravity (due to extreme hand waving and gesticulation to prove a point) and Duke, Gonzo’s sweet potato of a pitbull (who adored Madusa, following her around like a puppy) came bowling in to the rescue, saving the burger from the dirt in two bites flat.
It seemed that everyone was having a great time.
But.
The peace didn’t last long. It was like Rooster sensed the disturbance in the Force or something. When he glanced Madusa’s way, he knew for sure. His beloved didn’t have to say anything. He saw it in the way her smile disappeared. He saw it in the way her posture changed, shifting from relaxed to board stiff.
In the way her jaw clenched so tightly, he saw, even from the other side of the yard, a muscle in her neck jump and strain.
In the way her eyes hardened to glacier frost.
He followed her cold stare, seeing the problem immediately. Her mother wandered into the backyard with three people flanking and following her. One, he recognized as Maddie’s brother, Aaron. The other two, Rooster couldn’t place, but if they arrived with Judith Maitland, they meant trouble.
One of the unknown intruders was a slightly taller man than Aaron and definitely more muscled to the point Rooster wondered if that bulk had been naturally earned or enhanced with substances. He wore a tight, baby blue polo shirt with a popped collar and too-tight tan jeans. His hair rivaled Hangman’s douchebag era, overly styled and slicked. Though he was yards away, Rooster just knew the man was probably a walking biohazard of cologne.
The other stranger—a woman—was overdressed for a casual backyard barbecue in a very form-fitting (so form-fitting that she must have been poured into the dress) baby blue mid-length cocktail dress with white floral appliqués, and up-swept blonde hair. Her outfit was downright subdued compared to Judith Maitland’s.
Madusa’s mother wore a sleeveless white cocktail dress with a mesh embroidered skirt and the most ridiculous, giant hat Rooster had ever seen in his life. It looked like some kind of nest of netting, silk, flowers, and whatever the hell else it was made of. Rooster wasn’t sure if Mama Maitland was trying to pass herself off as a bride or the main hat attraction at the Kentucky Derby. He suspected it was a little of both.
Her fashion motives didn’t matter because Rooster knew her only intention was to piss off Maddie, and now he was pissed off. Maddie had tried to tell them that her mother would do something and she’d been right. He hated that Maddie had been right about this. He hated her mother so fucking much. With a set jaw, Rooster decided he was going to intervene and deal with this bullshit once and for all, but Gretzky caught his arm before he could go ballistic on the new arrivals.
“Don’t,” was all Gretzky said.
Rooster rounded on Madusa’s best friend to light him up, but Gretzky was ready for him with a silent, hard stare. The Marine didn’t have to say anything else because it was a conversation they’d already had once or twice before. Madusa didn’t need Rooster to protect her. Madusa could handle her shit.
He knew that. He knew that she didn’t need him to protect her.
The problem was that, sometimes, he needed her to let him protect her because that was what you do when you love someone: you protect them.
Not today, though. It wouldn’t be today, not with everyone watching. Rooster scrubbed his hands over his face, sighing into his palms, before nodding. Gretzky was right even if Rooster hated it. Even if he wanted to shield Maddie from this bullshit, as pissed off as she was at her mother, she’d be angrier at him for interfering; he didn’t want her to be angry with him, not the day before their wedding.
So. He didn’t step in because Madusa always handled her shit and she didn’t need him to protect her.
Sometimes, being in love with a strong, bull-headed woman was frustrating as hell.
—Madusa—
Of course.
Her mother couldn’t just show up uninvited. She had to bring them with her: her brother and the two Lawson lackeys. Maddie could handle Brittany, even if that blue dress was so damn tight, her tits were practically spilling over, but Jeremy Lawson was an entirely different thing. Logically, she knew her brother could use his cop powers to find her address to give to Lawson if he wanted, but she never really entertained the idea of Jeremy Lawson being here, at her house, yet there he was. Already, Madusa felt an inferno of rage roiling in her chest, ready to detonate. He was another matter. He and Aaron were another matter. Madusa hoped that Moose had the JAG Corps on speed dial because Madusa may actually turn homicidal if either of them approached her.
She’d been so focused on immolating Jeremy Lawson with her Madusa glare that Phoenix had to repeat her name twice and place a hand on Madusa’s shoulder before she actually heard her.
“Maddie? Is that—?”
“My mother? Yep.”
“Who are the assholes with her?” Rocksteady asked, eyes narrowed and obviously sizing them up.
“The one on the left in the leather jacket? That’s my middle brother, Aaron. The muscled pervert beside him is Jeremy Lawson.” She felt, rather than saw, both friends look at her and then at each other; she was too busy staring the enemy down to notice the rest of the silent conversation happening between them. “The other one in the tight dress is Brittany Lawson.”
That really got Rocksteady’s attention. “Brittany Lawson?! The Brittany Lawson your mom said was ‘stunning?!’”
“Yep.”
“The one with the great tits she said could steal Rooster away from you?!”
“The very one.”
“Aw, hell no!” Rocksteady shoved her drink at Bob, who took it without question, though not without almost the entire contents sloshing overboard; he shook the spilled beer off his hand before wiping it on his pants without complaint. “I’m gonna throw that bitch into the ocean!”
“Rox—!“
“No! I mean it, Madusa! Right into the drink! This is a ‘Girl’s Girl Only’ zone! You come to a casual barbecue with your tits on display like that, you’re fixin’ to steal someone’s man, and I will not stand for it! Imma ruin her dress, her make-up, and that hair!”
As angry as she was at her mother, Roxanne’s vehement defense and offering to ruin Brittany Lawson’s day in the most Roxanne way possible made Madusa smile despite herself. You had to give Rocksteady credit: the woman was ride or die.
“She’s not going to steal my man,” Madusa assured.
“I know that! And, you know that. But, dressed like that? She doesn’t know that. Say the word, girl, and she’s a drowned rat!”
“Her dress is fine. She a bit overdressed for beers and burgers, but it’s a perfectly lovely summer dress.”
“Madusa!”
“Rox! I appreciate you being ready to throw down but I promise: you don’t have to throw her into the ocean.”
“Are you sure? Because if you want me to, I will. No questions asked.”
Madusa shared a slightly amused look with Phoenix before soothing Rocksteady. “I’m sure.”
Rocksteady deflated a bit, but crossed her arms over her chest, glaring daggers at the intruding group of four. “Okay, fine. But only because it’s your wedding weekend and because you asked nicely. I’m still gonna keep target locked and switches hot, though. I will not allow a Brittany Lawson incursion into your boo’s airspace. Not on my watch, no Ma’am! If she even looks in Rooster’s direction, she’s swallowing salt water. I got you, girl.”
“I know you do and I love you for it,” Madusa replied, both amused and touched.
“What do you want to do about your mom?” Phoenix asked gently after giving Roxanne a few moments to huff and puff.
“Nothing,” Madusa said simply.
“Nothing?” Phoenix sounded incredulous. “That doesn’t sound like the Madusa I know.”
Maddie shrugged. It wasn’t the Madusa Phoenix knew. Hell, it wasn’t even the Madusa Madusa knew. Every molecule in her body screamed at her to forcibly remove her mother and her bodyguards with extreme prejudice, but she wasn’t going to do that. She couldn’t do that. She explained.
“My mother thrives on drama. What she wants is for me to make a scene, get angry, and lose my temper so she can play the victim. This is a game to her. I’ve learned, over the years, that the only way to win my mother’s games is to not play at all. So….”
“You do nothing,” Phoenix said, finishing the thought and frowning.
“I do nothing,” Madusa agreed.
To emphasize her point, she looked away from the group of intruders and…turned her back to them like they didn’t exist. Maddie tossed the empty solo cup she was holding into the trash, because now that her mother was here, Maddie couldn’t risk being accused of drunkenness, and announced to her friends that she was hungry. With that proclamation, she turned on her heels to beeline for the grills.
Unfortunately, she crossed paths with her father, who was marching toward Judy Maitland like a man on a mission. Maddie snagged him, physically placing herself right in his path. “Whoa there, Pops. What ‘cha doing?”
“I can’t fuckin’ believe she had the nerve to show up here uninvited,” her father snarled, glaring over Maddie’s head at his soon-to-be ex-wife. “I’m gonna throw her out on her ass.”
“Negative, Master Gunny,” Madusa replied, taking another step to block his trajectory.
“Maddie,” he snapped. “She doesn’t belong here.”
“I know, but you’re not gonna do anything. You’re not gonna look at her. You’re not even gonna talk to her. As far as we’re both concerned, she’s non-existent.”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“Yes, it will. I mean it, Dad! Ignore her. You’re in the middle of a divorce with this woman! If you go after her half-cocked, she’s going to use that against you. Don’t give her what she wants. All Mom wants is attention, and the more explosive and dramatic the better. Don’t give her the satisfaction.”
Her dad blew out a sharp breath through his nose, like a bull about to hit up a rampage before looking down at her with knit brows and a flushed neck, a tell-tale sign he was frustrated.
“What else am I supposed to do, then?”
Despite the fact that Master Gunny and her mother had been married for almost forty years at this point, her dad didn’t really seem to really know how to handle Judy Maitland. Not surprising since he spent most of that time deployed or avoiding her. While a part of her did sympathize with her father, a big part of her was still pressed that he’d basically left his kids to navigate Judith Maitland’s choppy waters. Madusa figured it would take time to work through those hurt feelings; for now, she decided to set aside her childhood trauma (she’d always been good at compartmentalizing during combat conditions) and patted her dad on the arm.
“How about a burger?” she announced. Placing both hands on either side of his arms, she physically turned her father so he’d make an about-face, and gently shoved him toward the grills. What better way to keep him occupied but present him with fire and meat? Master Gunny allowed Maddie to guide him through the crowd of barbecue-goers until they reached the ‘grill zone.’
“Hi,” Rooster greeted tentatively. She could tell he was trying to gauge how she was doing.
“Hi,” she replied. Silently, she took the barbecue tongs and large spatula from Rooster and slapped them into her father’s hands. “Mind if my dad mans the grills for a while?”
Without even missing a beat, Rooster pulled off his goofy apron (“Grill Master: The Man, The Myth, The Legend”) and hooked it over Master Gunny’s head to hang off his neck. Her dad didn’t protest or prevent the changing of the grill guard, instead deciding it was better to go with the flow.
“Grills are all yours, Master Gunny,” Rooster told him. Her dad nodded and, for the first time in the last five minutes, he seemed to relax. Fire, he understood. Grilling meat, he knew how to do. Keeping him occupied seemed to snap him out of the anger spiral he’d been in.
Once her dad was busy grilling burgers and dogs, Rooster asked, “Are we doing anything about…?” He nodded toward her mother and the three stooges, who’d begun walking through the yard and inserting themselves in people’s conversations.
Madusa shook her head. “Nope.”
“Really?” Even Gretzky seemed surprised, with arms crossed over his chest and a quirked brow.
“Yep, really.”
“We’re just going to let them…wander?”
“Yep.”
Rooster’s eyebrows scrunched together as he studied her. Eventually, he shrugged. “Okay.” She was grateful he didn’t press or insist on throwing them out. Anyway, she already had Rocksteady on Drowned Rat duty, so there was no need for further interdiction, at least for now.
“Do me a favor, though?”
“Anything.”
“Keep my brother and Jeremy Lawson very far away from me. I don’t want to end up in a jail cell the day before my wedding and if they come near me, I might actually kill them with my bare hands.”
Rooster and Gretzky shared a look; she knew she’d have to explain her absolute disdain for her brother and Jeremy Lawson in detail at some point for her request to make sense, but she appreciated they didn’t press for now.
“They won’t get near you,” Gretzky promised. “I’ll spread the word.”
Madusa nodded in thanks. A beat later, Gretzky was already mobilizing a scumbag-free perimeter around her as he tapped Moose and the squadron to engage in misdirection. Rooster pulled her into a hug. She sunk into his arms, resting her head on his chest to ground herself. With him, she could relax, even if they were on high bullshit alert.
“I’ll stay right here with you, Sweetheart,” he whispered into her hair.
“Thank you, Sunshine.”
When Rooster pulled back, he tucked some hair behind her ear. “I do want to talk about this at some point,” he told her.
Madusa nodded. “I know. We will,” she promised.
He nodded, accepting her answer. Rooster knew she always kept her promises.
—Rooster—
“What the hell are Mom, Aaron, and the Lawson Spawns doing here?” Jackson asked his sister. The three Maitland brothers Madusa still interacted with congregated around he and Madusa near the grills.
“They’re here because you know how Mom is,” Madusa explained plainly.
“Sure, I get Mom and Aaron, but the Lawsons?!” Maddie had explained to Rooster how Jeremy Lawson used to bully Jackson back when they were in school.
“Mom’s always trying to set me up with Jeremy,” Madusa explained. “And, she always compares me to Brittany. Honestly, bringing them here tracks.”
“Mom is aware you’re getting married, right? Like, why would she bring that shitheel Jeremy here when your wedding is tomorrow?” Roger asked incredulously.
“Because. Mom is convinced that Rooster is better off with Brittany and that means I’ll be freed up for Jeremy.” Her three brothers stared at her unblinking, and Rooster could tell they were all trying to follow this bonkers logic. If Rooster hadn’t been there for the whole Brittany conversation, he might’ve found it implausible too.
“That’s crazy,” Roger said finally.
“Yep.”
“I really doubt that’s what Mom is thinking,” Tommy retorted.
“It is, though.”
“It’s true,” Rooster interjected. “I was in the room when your sister was Facetiming your mom. Heard with my own ears.”
The brothers shared a silent look, comprising of raised eyebrows, scrunched-up noses, and exaggerated grimaces. Maddie sighed, then shrugged. “I really wish you guys would learn to believe me when I tell you that Mom acts like this.”
“It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Roger reassured, though he came across as stilted and awkward. “It’s that it sounds so damn psycho that it’s hard to believe in general.”
“It is psycho,” Madusa confirmed, “but it doesn’t make it any less true. Mom has always hated that I’m not as feminine or as pretty or as…well endowed as Brittany. She thinks that Rooster deserves better than me.”
“I mean, she does have great tits,” Tommy so ‘helpfully’ supplied.
“Ew!” Maddie snapped. “What are you doing looking at Brittany’s tits? You’re a married man!”
“I’m married; I’m not blind. I’m just saying that, you know…” Tommy shrugged. “She looks good.” Rooster really, really wished that Tommy would shut the fuck up about Brittany Lawson.
“Great. Thank you. I’m glad we’re all up to speed on how great Brittany Lawson looks. I’m sure your wife will be glad to hear it.”
“Why are you even pissed at me?! Mom’s the one who thinks Rooster should hook up with Brittany.” Tommy should really stop talking or Rooster might actually punch him in the face.
Instead, he focused on Maddie. “Your mother is wrong,” Rooster insisted very firmly. “I’m not going to hook up with Brittany Lawson because you’re the woman I want and love. Brittany Lawson is not my type—why are you making that face?”
“What face?”
“The face there that you just made. Like you were sucking on a lemon.”
“I didn’t mean to make a face.”
“Well, you made one anyway. Why?”
Madusa opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut suddenly. Rooster knew her well enough to see the wheels in her brain turning as she tried to formulate whatever she wanted to say. He suspected he wasn’t gonna like it. He was right.
“It’s just that you can’t say that Brittany isn’t your type when you slept with Malibu Barbie. They have a lot of the same…attributes,” she said, sort of motioning toward her chest and cupping her hands to designate a generous boob area.
Rooster studied his wife-to-be for a good few seconds before saying, “I thought Malibu was a non-issue.”
“Malibu Barbie is a non-issue,” Madusa confirmed.
“Doesn’t sound like a non-issue.”
“I’m sorry, is Malibu Barbie a person or…?” Tommy asked, confused.
Both Rooster and Madusa replied at the same time, “Person.”
“Malibu’s her callsign. She was Rooster’s wingman,” Madusa explained.
“You slept with your wingman?” Roger asked with arms crossed over his chest in judgment.
“I did. Years ago before Madusa and I were together,” Rooster defended. “And, I’d like to point out that Madusa is currently my wingman and I sleep with her so the wingman thing isn’t a thing.” He looked at Madusa very pointedly. “So, why is this a thing right now?”
“It’s not.”
“It sounds like a thing.” She opened her mouth to speak but Rooster cut her off abruptly. “Madusa, you are not in the habit of bullshitting me so don’t start now.” She snapped her mouth shut quickly. He quirked a brow at her.
He saw her shoulders droop a bit before she scrubbed her face with her hands. “Malibu’s not a thing. Malibu’s a non-issue. This isn’t about Malibu,” she finally admitted.
“I know. It’s about your mom,” Rooster declared astutely. Her mother was the only person who could send Maddie into a tailspin, and it always usually had something to do with her looks, boobs specifically. He saw her bristle, but he was ready for her. Rooster took her face in his hands and guided her to look at him. “Am I wrong?” he asked gently.
“No, you’re not wrong,” she admitted quietly. “It drives me crazy that my mom—and everyone—thinks Brittany is stunning. No one ever thinks I’m stunning.”
Rooster blinked. How could she even think that? Madusa turned heads everywhere she went. She was breathtaking on so many levels. “I think you’re stunning.”
Madusa rolled her eyes as she motioned vaguely toward Brittany Lawson, who seemed to be gliding around the various male aviators in the backyard. “Look at her and look at me. Who’s stunning?”
“You are,” Rooster said very seriously. He meant every word. “Sweetheart, I can think of like a million moments, right off the top of my head, where you knocked me right off my socks.”
“Name one,” she dared.
“Okay, I will,” he replied, very much up to the challenge. “After you ejected and I pulled you back onto the deck.” He nodded smugly.
She apparently didn’t take him seriously. “Come on.”
“I mean it!” he insisted. “I watched you eject out of a burning plane, get blown off to sea, and dangle over the carrier’s propellers before pulling you back onto the deck. There you were, spread eagle and flat on your back trying to catch your breath. You looked at me and you laughed; it knocked the wind right out of my lungs because you were so damn beautiful.”
Her eyes widened so big. He saw her hazel eyes change, in real time, from a sharp green to a soft, sweet brown. “But, I was slimy and sticky and covered in fire suppressant foam.”
Rooster smiled crookedly, nodding. “Yeah. Foam or not, it doesn’t matter because all you have to do is smile and laugh and you light up my whole world.” Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. He cupped her face again, thumb brushing over that blush softly. “I know that, right now, you’re pissed at your mom for showing up uninvited and pissed because she’s the only person who has the ability to send you into a self-esteem shame spiral. I also know it’s easier to pick a fight with me right now because you can’t pick a fight with her, so I won’t take the whole Malibu thing personally, but Sweetheart, I really need you to believe me when I tell you that I love you and that you’re beautiful to me, no matter what.”
He could see her eyes glassing over, shiny and wet. Rooster knew she wouldn’t cry or even acknowledge the emotion pooling there, not here, not now. He was glad she felt comfortable and safe enough with him to allow him to see that much, even if it wasn’t much at all.
Eventually, she nodded.
“Yeah?” She nodded again. Rooster pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. “Are we good?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” she whispered against his chest.
“Good.” Rooster pulled back enough to look at her again. “Now, do you still want me to let it go, or can I throw the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse off our property?”
She laughed. “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?” she asked with some amusement.
“It fits.”
Madusa laughed again. He hoped to hear that sound every day until he died. “Leave it for now,” she told him. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you for holding me accountable.”
“Thank you for letting me.”
—Madusa—
So far, Rooster and Gretzky had managed to keep Aaron and Jeremy Lawson away from here while Phoenix and Rocksteady kept an eye on Brittany Lawson in case she tried to get to Rooster. Thankfully, keeping Brittany out of Rooster’s hair ended up being an easy mission since there were so many good-looking aviators around; Brittany didn’t know where to throw herself. Aside from that, her brothers ran interference between their dad and their mom to ensure World War III didn’t break out in the middle of the backyard. It wasn’t ideal, and Madusa couldn’t really relax, but it was better than the alternative: a huge blowout in front of everyone.
What Madusa really wanted was to down a whole bottle of tequila to drown her sorrows in; she headed inside to grab a bottle of water for hydration instead. It was a weak substitute, though a necessary one. She had to keep her mind clear and her wits sharp to avoid any misstep with her mother. Judy Maitland had the knack to hone in on anything she perceived as weakness, and Madusa did not want to give her mother any sort of additional ammunition.
Since her house was ‘cozy’ (small), it was mostly an open-concept bungalow. To get to the kitchen from the backyard, you had to pass the bathroom and laundry area on the right-hand side, one of the two guest rooms on the left with hers and Rooster’s bedroom opposite that guest room. Before the party, Madusa had made sure to tape a ‘Do NOT Enter’ sign on her bedroom door because she didn’t want anyone poking around in there, even though she’d taken precautions and locked away any incriminating personal items like her Dominatrix accouterments.
She didn’t even make it to the kitchen. Madusa’s eyes narrowed when she saw that her bedroom door was open just a crack. Quietly, she pushed the door open to investigate; what she saw made her blood boil. Her mother was on her hands and knees on the plush shag area rug next to the bed seemingly searching for something beneath. She hadn’t noticed Maddie walking in. A quick scan of her surroundings told Madusa that her mother had been snooping in here for a while: the dresser drawers were all slightly askew and the door to her bedroom closet was still ajar. Maddie crossed her arms over her chest.
“What are you doing?”
Judith Maitland yelped. She pushed herself back up to her feet and smoothed out her dress’s tulle skirt before straightening her crooked hat. “Madeleine! Why are you sneaking around like that? You’ll give someone a fright,” she deflected like a goddamn champ.
“I’m not sneaking around; this is my house. And, you didn’t answer my question,” she pointed out. “What are you doing?”
Without even missing a step, her mother responded, “I was looking for the bathroom.”
“Pretty sure it’s not under the bed.”
“I know that! I needed hand towels!”
“Towels aren’t under the bed, either. They’re in the linen closet, next to the bathroom.”
“How am I supposed to know where the bathroom is when you never have me over? It’s the first time I’ve even been to your house!” Naturally, her mother was turning things around so this was Maddie’s fault somehow.
“Mother, it’s a small house. Finding the bathroom isn’t difficult. It’s literally right off the back door. So I’m going to ask you a third time: what are you doing in my bedroom?”
“I’ve already told you, Madeleine. If you don’t believe me, that’s your decision.” Her mother’s chin jutted out defiantly.
Maddie studied her silently for a beat with narrowed eyes and a set jaw. One thing Maddie had learned over the years was that her mother could not stand silence or pointed scrutiny. She saw her mother squirm and noted how her eyes darted toward Madusa’s closet. She let her mother marinate in the discomfort for a few intense, silent minutes before asking, “Why were you going through my closet?”
“What makes you think I went through your closet?” Her mother crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.
“The closet door’s open.”
“Maybe you left it open.”
“I didn’t.”
“Maybe your Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw left it open.”
“He didn’t.”
“You can’t be certain of that.”
“I can.” When her mother opened her mouth to protest again, Madusa stopped her. “Mother, we’re both in the military. We don’t leave the closet door ajar or our drawers disheveled.” To punctuate her point, she pulled open one of the drawers that was still slightly open. It revealed messy, unorganized contents that suggested someone had rummaged around in there.
“Anyone could’ve done that! I don’t know why you’d automatically blame me for it,” her mother protested.
“You’re the one I found snooping around my bedroom looking for the bathroom under my bed.”
Judy threw her hands up in frustration. “I know the bathroom isn’t under the bed, Madeleine! I’m not stupid.”
“No, you’re not,” Maddie agreed. “But you seem to think I am.” Because this ridiculous run-around made no sense unless her mother thought she was stupid enough to accept her ridiculous explanation. Madusa knew what her mother was doing. She knew why her mother was rummaging around her bedroom. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. “You were looking for my wedding dress, weren’t you?”
Deciding to finally admit her true motivations, Judy Maitland snapped at her daughter. “You left me no choice,” she accused with some venom. “What kind of daughter freezes her mother out of wedding planning? Out of dress shopping?! I had to see what kind of disaster you came up with because—Lord knows—you have no fashion sense unless I’m there to guide you.” Judith’s narrowed eyes raked over her, inspecting her from top to bottom; it was clear that Maddie’s outfit was left wanting and did not meet Judy Maitland’s exacting standards.
“You’re not invited to the wedding, so why does it even matter what I wear?”
“What you wear reflects on me! I can’t have my daughter wearing an off-the-rack gown?! What will my friends think?”
“None of your friends are invited either.”
“Yes, I know! You have no idea what kind of social firestorm you brought down upon me for that,” Judy snarled. “But, they eventually understood that you insisted on taking care of the whole wedding on your own and that meant a smaller guest list to accommodate your fixed budget. They’ve all rallied around me because they know how difficult and willful you are but even a small budget can’t explain a cheap dress.”
It didn’t surprise Madusa one bit that her mother couldn’t admit to any fault in the whole wedding thing and instead concocted this whole false story about Maddie being too poor to invite her vapid friends. Madusa and Rooster could’ve afforded a larger wedding; they weren’t invited because Madusa didn’t want her mother and her friends there, full stop. She decided this wasn’t a hill she wanted to die on because, ultimately, it meant that Peggy Lawson wouldn’t show up to watch Madusa and Rooster exchange vows and she was okay with that.
Instead of challenging her mother on the fabricated story, Madusa simply stared her down silently. Judy threw her hands up again. “Well?! Where is it? I’d like to see it first hand so I can prepare for the social media comments.”
“It’s not here.”
“I can see that it’s not here; I’ve searched your whole bedroom. Where is it? In one of the guest rooms?” Judy took a step, but Madusa stopped her before she got any further.
“No. It’s not here, Mother. The dress is not in the house. It’s not on the premises. It’s being stored at a secondary location.”
“Secondary location? What does that mean? Where is it?!”
“Not here,” Madusa reiterated. “It’s not with Jackson or any of my other brothers either so don’t try to invade their houses.”
“But, Madeleine! I need to see the dress!”
“No.”
Judy scoffed. “It must be absolutely hideous if you refuse to even let me see a picture of it,” she baited.
Maddie didn’t take the bait and shrugged. “I guess so.”
“You ‘guess so?!’ That’s it?!” Judy took a few steps into Maddie’s personal bubble. Normally, Maddie didn’t like it and didn’t allow it; she preferred people stay out of her personal space unless they were approved people she loved, like Rooster or Phoenix. Her mother did not qualify. “Sam put you up to this, didn’t he? He must have poisoned you against me and convinced you to kick me out of your wedding!”
Madusa sighed. “Dad had nothing to do with my decision,” she replied.
“Dad? Sam, you mean,” Judy corrected. “Or are you still playing ‘Daddy’s Girl’ to a man who isn’t your father?”
“Yes. Dad. You realize that we can just take a DNA test, right? It’ll clear all of this up.”
“Go ahead,” her mother challenged. “But before you do, let me ask: do you honestly think he’ll ever look at you the same way if it turns out that you aren’t his? He won’t.” Judy smirked. “He’ll never see you as his daughter. You’ll always be another man’s kid he had to raise. He won’t love you like you want him to. How could he? You’re mine, not his.”
Deep down, Maddie did worry that her father would turn her away if it did turn out that he wasn’t her real dad. Madusa was pretty sure she was his kid, despite her mother’s unhinged taunts, but pretty sure still left some room for doubt. Madusa didn’t like living in doubt. Instead, she had decided that he was her dad, and nothing would change that unless something did. She’d deal with that disappointment later if it happened.  
Right now, she had other things to sort out. Her mother was hitting low and Maddie’s patience was running thin. The only way to handle this was to walk away and not give her mother the satisfaction of Madusa losing her temper. She’d acknowledged her mother for far longer than she should have, anyway.
“Okay. We’re done here.”
Maddie turned on her heels, ready to leave; unfortunately, her mother did not take kindly to being so summarily dismissed. “Done?! We’re done when I say we’re done! Madeleine, do not walk away from me when I’m talking to you! Madeleine!” When Maddie didn’t acknowledge her mother’s demand, Judy screeched, and a beat later, something whizzed by Madusa’s head before smashing against the wall next to her.
No, no, no.
Madusa felt like she’d been kicked right in the gut. On the floor lay three broken pieces of painted plastic that she recognized as the little Madusa figurine Tofu had made for her as a wedding present. Immediately, she whipped around to face her mother, who smirked triumphantly, clearly pleased she’d gotten a reaction out of her daughter. Finally.  Unfortunately for Judith Maitland, she underestimated her daughter’s temper because the second Madusa noticed the Rooster figurine in Judy’s hand, ready for the next throw, she rushed her mother faster than an enraged bull.
Judy took a few quick steps back, noticing the absolute cold rage radiating from her daughter. She miscalculated and tripped slightly on her high heels, but caught herself. She wasn’t fast enough to get away from Maddie’s grip, however. Madusa grabbed her mother’s wrist tightly, shoving her against the bedroom wall next to the sitting chair and near the window. She held out her palm flat, indicating she expected her mother to hand her something.
“Give it to me,” she demanded so evenly, so coldly, that her mother’s eyes widened, and, for the first time in her life, Madusa saw fear in her mother’s eyes instead of contempt.
 Judith Maitland was afraid of Madusa.
As she should be.
Her mother was stricken silent and unmoving, so Madusa took the liberty to snatch Mini-Rooster out of her mother’s hand and tossed him onto the bed behind her, all without letting go of her mother’s wrist. Madusa’s hard gaze didn’t waver either, pinning her mother to the wall with sheer force of will.
Finally, her mother spoke. “Madeleine,” she pleaded tentatively. “Madeleine, please.  You weren’t listening to me; I had to get your attention! Please. You’re hurting me. Let go!” She tried to wiggle out of Madusa’s grip; she was unsuccessful. “It’s not my fault that you’re so sensitive about things.”
Madeleine was fucking done with her mother.
Even when she was clearly in the wrong, Judith Maitland was incapable of taking any sort of responsibility for her actions. Instead of apologizing for her misbehavior, her mother had to get her own way. While the little mini-figurines were a new and recent gift, Madusa still cherished them, having planned on using them as little cake toppers for the wedding, but Judy Maitland couldn’t even let her have that.
Now, Mini-Madusa was broken, and something inside Madusa broke, too.
“Madeleine,” her mother pleaded again, desperate to get away from the daughter she’d pushed over the edge.
“My name is Madusa,” she snarled.
Her mother’s already wide eyes widened to saucers. She instinctively shrunk and tried to move away, but Madusa shoved her firmly against the wall again, not allowing her to escape. “Madel—“ Her mother stopped herself, likely out of self-preservation. Madusa knew her mother wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of capitulating, and instead settled on a midway alternative. “Maddie,” she began. “Things have gotten out of hand, I admit that. We both have acted in ways that aren’t healthy or constructive. You forced my hand, but now you’ve made your point and you need to let me go. Maddie. Let go!”
Her mother didn’t seem to grasp that Madusa was one second away from snapping entirely. She was so fucking furious at her mother that a big part of her wanted to unleash those thirty-two years of pent-up resentment, disappointment, pain, and rage with the fury of a righteous avenging angel. Another part, the more logical part, argued that ripping her mother to shreds wouldn’t make her feel better; in fact, it would cause more harm than good. One angel wanted revenge. The other wanted peace. Both struggled with the other. However, the more her mother spoke and laid the blame at Madusa’s feet, the more revenge was starting to win out.
Only a gentle, calming hand on Madusa’s shoulder saved her from herself and subsequently saved her mother as well.
“Madeleine.” Rooster’s tender, quiet voice penetrated the din of battle raging inside her and pulled her back into herself. “I’ve got you. You can let her go.”
“She broke Mini-Madusa,” she told him, still staring her mother down. It felt like she was watching the whole scene unfold from outside her own body. Madeleine was so damn shocked at how utterly destroyed she sounded.
“I know. I got her, too.” Rooster presented the broken pieces to her as he cradled them in the palm of his big, giant hand.
“It was an accident,” Judy insisted.
Madusa’s hand squeezed tighter. “It wasn’t.” Judy, smartly, decided to shut the hell up. It was only when Rooster’s hand moved from her shoulder to palm her nape soothingly that Madeleine relaxed; he was telling her, without words, that he was there for her. That he would catch her. A breath later, she released the grip she had on her mother’s wrist. “Get out,” Madusa told her mother flatly. “Get Aaron and the Lawson brats, and leave. Before I change my mind.”
Her mother scurried around Madusa quickly, rubbing her wrist, at her daughter in a way that conveyed horror at Madusa’s behavior. “Aaron!” her mother yelled. She hurried out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, screaming, “Aaron!!”
Facing Rooster, Madusa took his hand to examine the broken Mini-Madusa in his palm. Without realizing it, she sucked in a sharp, shaky breath, and swallowed a quiet sob. Rooster cupped her cheek. “We’ll fix it,” he promised.
“How?” Usually, Madusa was calm under pressure. She worked the problem until she solved the problem or found a way around it. For some reason, she couldn’t figure out how to fix this. This little broken Madusa felt unfixable.
“I don’t know. We’ll talk to Tofu and we’ll figure it out.” Rooster ducked his head so he was eye-level with her. “We’ll figure it out, Sweetheart.” He sounded so sure, so confident that they could solve this that Madusa started to believe it just a little. She wiped away an errant tear from her cheek. Madusa nodded.
Unfortunately, they weren’t insulated from Judy’s bullshit for long because Aaron charged into the bedroom in with metaphorical guns blazing. Her other brothers, the Lawsons, and her father weren’t all that far behind. She also spotted Gretzky, Phoenix, and Rocksteady hovering in the back of the pack to observe and step in as needed.
“Are you done being a fucking psycho bitch?” Aaron spat at her. She felt Rooster bristle, but this? Madusa could handle this. This time, she calmed him down because they were in this together. They were a team.
“What are you talking about?” she asked evenly. Her mother stood behind Aaron, using him as a human shield. She held a crumpled-up tissue to mop up non-existent tears and wipe her nose. Judy Maitland had always been good at playing the victim and this was one of her better performances. Of course, she sort of had reason.
“Mom said you went psycho on her, shoved her against the wall, and almost broke her wrist! What the hell is the matter with you?!”
Before Madusa could speak, ready to admit that, she had, in fact, done all of that, Rooster interrupted her.  “Your mother snuck into our bedroom, uninvited, and started throwing shit around. She broke part of our cake toppers.” Rooster proffered the broken Mini-Madusa as proof. Technically, Rooster wasn’t lying because that had happened, too; he simply omitted the part where Madusa almost went Terminator on her mom, and that didn’t sit well with her because Maddie always accepted the consequences of her actions. She was about to confess when she snapped her mouth shut abruptly. Gretzky knew her very, very well, and likely guessed that she had snapped as accused. Standing behind her brothers, he shook his head, dissuading her from speaking the additional details into life. She trusted Gretzky and Rooster with her life, so if they were both on the same page about this, then Madusa trusted them. She’d atone for her sins later.
“Mom, did you break her cake topper?” Roger asked incredulously as he examined the damaged figurine.
“What?!” she exclaimed, surprised that anyone was questioning her instead of Maddie. “Roger!” Roger crossed his arms over his chest and quirked an expectant brow at his mother. “That’s not important—“
“Judy, cut the crap,” Sam snapped. “Did you or didn’t you break the figure?”
“None of you are listening! It was an accident—“
“It wasn’t,” Madusa replied. Judy glared at her.
“This is all your fault,” Judy accused sharply. “None of this would’ve happened if you’d just let me see the dress!”
“She was looking for my wedding dress,” Maddie supplied when it was clear people didn’t follow the leap from cake topper to dress.
“Why the fuck were you looking for her dress? Were you planning on ruining that too?” Sam snarled.
“I’m her mother and I’m entitled—“
“Save it.” Sam was done with Judy’s shit too. “Aaron, it’s time for you to take your mother home. Take your friends with you, too.”
“Dad,” Aaron pleaded.
“I mean it, Son. You shouldn’t have come. You knew neither of you were invited.”
“Because Maddie’s a bitch—!”
“Enough!” Sam’s voice boomed, projecting loudly and with authority, a skill learned through years in the Marine Corps. “I don’t know what the hell happened between you and your sister, but she’s entitled to invite and disinvite who she wants. It’s time for you four to leave.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest and laid a sharp stare on Aaron. Her brother wilted like wet cardboard under the heat of it. “Don’t make me ask again.”
Despite being a grown man—a cop no less—Aaron didn’t like disobeying his father. “C’mon, Mom. Let’s go,” Aaron prompted, ready to lead her out of Madusa’s house.
“What?! No! I’m not leaving,” she insisted, stomping her foot like a toddler. “I will not be thrown out like some common criminal.”
Aaron reared on her. “Mom,” he snapped. “Let’s. Go.”
Judy Maitland wasn’t used to everyone turning on her like this, especially not Aaron. She gasped, taken aback. Madusa saw the wheels turning and spotted the very moment Judy capitulated: her shoulders drooped momentarily before squaring off, and her jaw set very tightly.
“Fine,” she responded sharply. Then, she faced Madusa, and taunted, “Don’t come crying to me when he finally comes to his senses and leaves you.”
“Don’t worry; I won’t,” Madusa assured.
Because she knew, deep in her soul, that Rooster would never leave her.
Madusa and Rooster were forever despite the broken pieces her mother left behind. Next Chapter
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