there’s nothing wrong with being a hopeless romantic. it most likely makes you a hopeful romantic, and that’s so beautiful because it means you see the love in people and the world that others might overlook. never shame yourself for not giving up on love.
I've decided if people are going to call male characters babygirl then I can do it the other way around for female characters. She's my man now. That woman is my boyfriend. My boytoy even.
Original Characters: Spencer Cartwright, Andrew Cartwright, Leo Cartwright
Warning(s): Mild torture, manipulation, mild gore
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Green eyes squint in the dim light that blankets the warehouse, they look over the space. The cement floors grimey and stained; the stains abstract shapes, and faded. A singular long dark wooden table to the side, Spencer can see..things on the table. A kitchen knife, like the one her mom uses to make dinner, but this one isn’t her good knife; her dad knew he wasn’t allowed to touch those. A hammer, a saw, and pliers; like the ones she knew her Uncle Leo kept in his tool box, but he was a carpenter; that was normal to have. Along the table trailed a winding rusted chain, looking just like the one that her dad had fished out of the river while the family had their annual lake day. A heavy hand on her shoulder makes Spencer jump, “Sorry, Spence, didn’t mean to scare you.” Her father’s gentle brown eyes and smile comforts her, calming her thumping heart. Her dad gently squeezes her shoulder, “Come on, your Uncle Leo is waiting.” Her father guides her deeper into the warehouse, past the old stains and the table.
Spencer sees her Uncle Leo, with a man, not one she recognizes. He looked…scared. His blonde hair slick with sweat, sticking to his forehead, blood running down the side of his head. Red and bright in the otherwise dark room. She falters in her steps, the rabbit heartbeat is back, thrumming in her chest, she looks up her father, “Dad? What’s Uncle Leo doing to him?”
Andrew looks down at his daughter, “Your uncle is trying to help the family, and this man isn’t helping the family, Spencer. He has something that the family needs, and your Uncle Leo is simply trying to get it out of him”. Spencer flinches as her uncle punches the man in the jaw, the sickening crack echoing throughout the warehouse, “Can’t Uncle Leo just ask nicely? That’s what mom says to do when I want something.”
Andrew nods his at her logic, “That’s true, Spencer, but mom’s not here, and I need you to do something for me”. Soft green eyes look up into hardened brown ones, “What do I need to do?”. Andrew squats to Spencer’s height, “You’re 10 now, Spencer. You need to learn. So I need you to ask this man to give us what we want, and if he doesn’t; you need to use these on him.” Her father holds up a pair of brass knuckles for Spencer to take, taking her hands in his, sliding them across loose fingers. She feels the weight of them, bulky and cumbersome, they don’t fit her small hands. Spencer shakes her head, “No, I don’t want to hurt him. He’s hasn’t done anything wrong to me.”
Andrew shakes his head, “That’s where you’re wrong, Spence. This man”, her father points an accusing finger at the bloodied man, “This man has hurt your family, Spencer. He has hurt the family, and what do we do for family?”
Her father’s question hangs in the air for a beat, Spencer feels like her heart is going to burst out of her chest. The now warm metal bites her hand, as her hands form fists, her tear filled eyes look to the man, “We do anything for family”. Andrew stands back to his full height, a proud hand on her back as he leads Spencer to the blonde haired man, “That’s right, Spence. Now, show him what we do to protect this family.”
Slowly, Spencer walks to stand beside her uncle, his own proud smile across his face, blood splattered across his right cheek, “Go on, kid. You can do it”. Spencer attempts to square her shoulders as she approaches the man, his heavy breathing rings through the silence. He lolls his head up, his left eye now swollen shut; his one good eye was blue.
Just like Spencer’s best friend, Cole.
Spencer lifts her right arm, her whole body shaking as she tries to get herself to hit the man, but all she can think of is Cole. How the two of them laugh and play. The tears pour down her cheeks, the brass knuckles clattering to the ground. Her tiny chest heaving with hurried breathes, Spencer turns to her father and uncle, “I’m sorry. I can’t do it. I can’t help the family.”
Andrew quickly scoops Spencer up, cradling her tiny frame, “That’s okay, Spence. It’s not your fault. I couldn’t do it the first time, either. We can try again next time.”
Tiny hands tighten her father’s crisp white shirt, her tears soaking the material. Spencer shoves her face into her dad’s neck, the smell of his aftershave calming her.
There was always next time, and next time Spencer won’t hesitate.
Prompt: 28) "I may not get another chance to say this."
Fandom: MCU
Natasha Romanoff & Yelena Belova
Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Yelena Belova, rest of Endgame Team
Warning(s): None
Natasha's last call home, or
It was real to her, too
Translations: "I love you, Yelena" = "Ya lyublyu tebya, Yelena"
"I love you, little one" = "Ya lyublyu tebya, malyshka"
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The hangar was filled with many mixed emotions. Confidence from Cap and Tony. Nervous excitement from Scott. Bruce was his usually almost sullen self, more accepting of what they had to do. Clint just stood there, probably with his hearing aids off, thinking of his family; and what this could mean for them. And Natasha, she was quiet, full of resolve. Natasha was thinking of her own family, the one the Red Room gave her. Thinking about Alexie, Melina, but most of all her little sister, Yelena.
Their family was never real, never the best, but it was hers. Natasha sighs, waving at Clint to get his attention; his blue eyes flicker to meet her, and her signs.
“Need to make a phone call. Be right back.”
“I’ll be here.”
She takes out the burner phone, the thing only had a few numbers in it; the ones that mattered, “I’ll be back.”, she calls over her shoulder. Tony quirks an eyebrow at her, “We’re almost ready. Can it wait?”
Natasha grips the phone in her hand, the weight of it suddenly heavy, “It’ll only take a few minutes.”
Tony rolls his eyes, “Sure. Half the population can wait a few more minutes, what’s that to five years”. Natasha ignores him, making her way to an empty corner of the hangar, and dials the number that’s programmed to #1.
It rings, rings, rings, and rings; then goes to voicemail, “The number you have dialed is unavailable, at the tone; please record your message at the tone.”
The dial tone echoes through her ears, Natasha takes a shaking breath, “Yelena. It’s me. It’s sestra. I, uh..I may not get another chance to say this…”, a tear rolls down her cheek, she takes another breath, “It was real to me, too, Yelena. All of it. You, Melina, and God; even Alexie. You’re going to be so mad at me when you find out what I did, just know that I did it for you. I won’t ask you to be mad, but please. Don’t, don’t blame anyone. It had to happen this way. Ya lyublyu tebya, Yelena. Ya lyublyu tebya, malyshka.”
The familiar whistle is the last thing Natasha leaves Yelena, before she ends the call, and pockets the phone. She wipes away any stray tears, the Black Widow leaves her corner, going to the rest of her team, stopping beside Clint. Hawkeye looks at his partner, “You good?’
Natasha sniffs the last tears away putting her mask back on, the mask the Red Room beat into her, “Yeah, I’m good.”
The Avengers gather on the teleport pad, Steve’s speech hitting each member one by one, Natasha smiles at the light jokes of Scott and Rocket, her green eyes flicking to Steve, “See you in a minute.”
Original Characters: Spencer Cartwright, Cole Adair, Estella Alonzo, Kori Al-El
Warning(s): gun violence
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Gun fire rings out. The echoes chase after them.
Running. Sweat soaked shirts sticking to hot bodies.
Shoes thumping hard against the ground as the two of them head for the garden, the soles of their shoes crunching the hard gravel, one of them skidding; losing their footing, “Spencer!”
The young woman, Spencer, grits her teeth as she gets up, the red head turning to her friend, “Keep going, Cole! I'm right behind you!”. The shots are getting closer, Spencer takes her own pistol out, holding it steady as she fires off three bullets, never blinking once.
Three bodies slump to the ground.
Spencer takes off, not looking back as she chases after Cole; her hard green eyes looking for them in the dim light. The manor gardens are both a blessing and a curse as they provide cover from being found, but are making it impossible to find Cole. Spencer goes from corner to long pathway, each step quick but calculated, “Cole? Cole?”, She calls out for them, peeking over a corner hedge, when she catches sight of the designated medic. They are on their knees, hands above their head, looking up at their captor.
It was Spencer’s Uncle. Uncle Leo, her father’s third in command.
Spencer holds the grip tighter, her knuckles almost going white, she leaves her hiding spot, leveling the gun at her uncle, “Leo. Let them go.”
Cole looks back at Spencer, their multicolored eyes full of terror, but also hope, “Hey, Spence. Sorry.”
“Shut up. No talkin’, kid.”, Leo grunts out, his deep brown eyes boring into Cole, before they move to Spencer, “This is stupid, Spencer. You’ll never get out. Just come back with me, and maybe I can get your dad to forget all this happened, water under the bridge. Come on, we’re family.”
Spencer looks at Cole, ignoring her uncle, “Don’t worry, doc. I’ll get us out of here, just hold tight.”
Cole shakes their head at Spencer, “Not a doctor.”
Green eyes roll, “‘Course you are, who else will stitch me back up?”
Leo clicks the hammer of the gun back, “Hey! This isn’t a social call!”, He levels the gun at Cole, still looking at Spencer, “This is a one time offer, Spencer. Take it.”
The Cartwright heir looks at her uncle, shrugging one shoulder, “No, thanks. I’m good.”, Spencer’s finger pulls the trigger back, two shots going into her uncle, Leo’s scream meeting the rose bushes as he crumples to the ground, gun falling from his hand, “Son of a bitch!”
Cole hurries to their feet, grabbing Leo’s fallen gun, putting in their own holster, turing towards Spencer, “Was that necessary?”
“He wasn’t going to let us go.” Spencer nudges at her uncle with her boot, “Come on, I didn’t kill him. One to the arm, one to shoulder, but he’ll be pissed when he wakes up.”
Cole sighs, running a hand through their shaggy black hair, “Please tell me Kori and Estella got what we came here for.”
Spencer digs out her phone, “Let me see”, she goes through their text thread, showing Cole a picture of Kori and Estella; Estella with an attache, and Kori with what looks like a very heavy black duffle bag, both of them looking very proud of themselves, “Looks like they did it.”
“Oh thank God. That means we can leave.”
Spencer laughs, playfully shoving at Cole, “What’s the matter, Adair? Not having fun?”
“This is not my idea of fun, no.”
Holstering her gun, Spencer laughs again, “Come on, doc. I’m trying to leave the mob. I never said it would be easy.”
Cole rolls their eyes, “I know, believe me. This is probably the easiest thing we’ll do.”
“Exactly! Only gets harder from here!”
“You’re the worst, Cartwright.”
“You love me.”
Spencer’s phone vibrates in her hand, a text from Kori,
“Car is ready, boss! :)”
“Come on, they’re waiting for us.”
The pair look around the garden once more, before running towards the rendezvous point, hopping the fence, their feet thudding as they land back on the street. The passenger side doors both open, Estella behind the wheel, “Come on. We’re not exactly safe yet.”
Cole jumps into the backseat, slamming the door behind them. Spencer looks back to the place where she grew up, trying to not let the fond memories of the place she once called home bubble up, and consume her, “Boss? You good?”, Kori calls from the backseat. Spencer shakes her head, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
She gets in the passenger seat, closing the door, then buckling herself in, “Let’s go. Dinner’s on the doc.”
“Hey!”
The car fills with laughter and Cole’s reluctant agreement to get them dinner.
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