#mary x stack

I feel like they would love her and do the one thing that Lestat and Louis could never do, which is understand her. Louis has always seen Claudia as a child to be protected and cared for, and he always will. Consequently, he isn't able to understand that she will forever yearn for love and companionship beyond a father or family figure. On the other hand, Lestat will always see her as a means to make Louis happy—kind of like giving a puppy to a lover. While he does care for her, which is definitely seen in the later seasons, he will always view her as a means to an end, and that end is always Louis's happiness.

They don't understand the idea of longing for something you'll never have while watching others around you get it. For most of the series, both of them had the means to get what they wanted. Even when Louis was a human—a Black, gay man living in a white-favoring society—he still owned a business and was able to be with other men; he just had to be careful. As for Lestat, throughout most of his immortal life, he possessed wealth, power, and the means to be with whomever he desired.

Claudia, however, is forever trapped in the body of a child. For the entirety of her immortal life, she has been kept under the thumb of others with no real power or agency to find someone like her, or someone who can understand and genuinely love her. When she had human lovers, they could never fully understand her desires because she would only ever look like a child in their eyes. Then, when she finally found someone to love her, choose her, and truly see her, it was taken away—all because she tried to gain some freedom.

I think that Mary and Stack would be able to understand that. Both faced things in life that were unfair and forced them to do things they didn't want to do just to gain some type of freedom. Mary had to pass as white, rejecting her family, friends, and culture, and even marry a white man to have a better life. Meanwhile, Stack—along with his brother—had to go to war, presumably to escape their past, and then went straight into Chicago gangs just to make money. Because of this, they would both understand Claudia's desire for something she has had a very hard time getting. Instead of telling her to "let it go" or that "she doesn't need it," they would do anything to help her get it.

https://www.tumblr.com/sammyquarius/799971288495144960/hello-i-have-just-finished-all-of-my-current?source=share

Can you write a fic where Pearline and Sammie are expecting a baby? Requested by moodboardsaesthicfanfics

Can you write a fic where both Annie and Mary is pregnant at the same time ! So both Stack and Smoke are experiencing being a father at the same time! Requested by robyntalkss

Can you do a parent trap fic where Stack and Smoke reunite when they are adult ? Like Stack is marry to Mary and have twins girl while Smoke is marry to Annie and have a daughter and son? Stack is an owner for recording companies and Smoke is for clubs? Requested by robinfanfics-recommend

Can you a write an Annie and Smoke fic were they met through Mary at a College Party because Mary and Annie are roommates? Requested by blogforblogss

Could write a Bo and Grace fic that is inspired by 10 things I hate about you ? Requested by robynbrownie3

Can you write a fic where Mary and Stack gave up their daughter for adoption because they were teenagers but because she was turning eighteen she is trying to be free from the adoption agency she has to get their signature she went to go find them. Requested by seleneflorass

Can you write a fic of Mary and Stack based of the scene from the movie where Stack said that if he or Smoke finds out that her husband puts his hands on her or anyone else than they would come up there and killed them all ? I also want Stack and Smoke to realize that Mary wasn't going to be safe at all like a wake up call for them if possible ? Requested by lilypaddyy

This was requested by: @chocolatebrowniegirl

Chicago hums like a living thing streetcars rattling, jazz bleeding out of basement clubs, men in pressed suits speaking in low voices about money, shipments, loyalty. In a narrow brownstone on the South Side, everything is already unraveling.

Mary stands at the window, watching the streetlamps flicker on one by one. The city looks softer from up here, almost forgiving. Almost.

Down below, she knows the truth police that look the other way, men who don’t, and the kind of whispers that can get someone killed if they stick to the wrong ears

Behind her, her mother’s voice cuts sharp through the quiet.

“Those boys are trouble,” she says, voice low but sharp, like she’s afraid the walls themselves might carry it back to them. “I don’t care what they pay. I don’t care who they work for. You stay away from them.”

Stack and Smoke. Two sides of the same coin but Mary sees the difference immediately.

Smoke is quiet. Watchful. The kind of man who stands in a room and somehow notices everything without saying a word. There’s something heavy in him, something that never left Mississippi. Loss sits on his shoulders like it belongs there.

Stack—

Stack is a wildfire.

He laughs too loud. Talks too fast. Lives like tomorrow is a rumor he doesn’t believe in. And when he looks at Mary for the first time, it’s not careful.

It’s immediate.

Dangerous.

But Mary couldn't help but be attracted to it

“You will not see him again.”

Mary doesn’t turn around. Her fingers tighten around the curtain instead.

“You don’t know him.”

“I know enough.” Her mother steps closer, heels clicking like a warning. “Men like that men who work for Capone don’t love girls like you. They use them. They ruin them.”

Mary lets out a breath, slow. Controlled.

“You mean girls like me,” she says quietly, “or girls like me?”

That lands.

Her mother goes still.

Because they both know what she means.

Being Biracial and Passing. It's constantly walking a line so thin it could snap under her at any moment.

“That life will kill him,” her mother says, softer now but not kinder. “And it will take you down with him.”

Mary finally turns.

Her eyes don’t waver.

“I’d rather choose it than be locked away pretending for the rest of my life.”

It stared small at first

A glance held too long in the hallway. A shared cigarette out the back window when her mother isn’t home.

Y’know,” Stack murmurs one night, leaning against a brick building, eyes tracing her face like he’s memorizing it,

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he muttered, but he didn’t step away.

“Neither should you.”

That smirk again, but weaker this time. Stripped down.

“You don’t listen real good, do you?”

Mary stepped closer. “Neither do you.”

Smoke sees it before anyone says anything.

Of course he does, he was always more observant.

He corners Stack in the kitchen late one night, voice low enough not to carry.

“You need to stop.

Stack doesn’t even look up. “Stop what?”

Smoke’s jaw tightens. “ I ain't stupid fool. That girl—”

“She gotta a name.”

“And she got a target on her back if you keep this bullshit up!,” Smoke snaps, sharper now. “Ya'll think Capone’s people don’t notice things?

Stack finally looks at him.

" She's a white woman stack don't matter how much negro blood she has Stack, she is white. You understand what that means? One wrong look, one wrong word, and it ain’t just whispers. It’s a noose. It’s bullets. It’s—”

“I ain’t letting anything happen to her.”

Smoke lets out a bitter laugh.

“That’s what I said too.”

Silence.

Heavy. Suffocating.

Because Stack knows what he means.

Mississippi. Annie. A baby that never got to grow up.

The night they decide to run, it’s not dramatic.

No grand plan.

No perfect timing.

Just urgency.

Stack bursts into her room, breath uneven, eyes lit with something between fear and certainty.

“We gotta go.”

Mary sits up immediately. “What happened?”

“It don't matter,” he says, already grabbing her small suitcase from under the bed. “It’s not safe here no more. For you. For us.”

“Stack—”

“I mean it,” he says, softer now, stepping closer. “I should’ve listened. Smoke was right. This city? It’ll eat you alive just for existing wrong.”

His hand finds hers.

Warm. Steady, despite everything.

“Come with me.”

Mary searches his face.

Reckless. Yes.

Dangerous. Always.

But for the first time—

Serious.

“Where?” she whispers.

Stack smiles, a little crooked, a little wild.

“Anywhere that ain’t here.”

And with that, they disappeared into the night into a future thick with uncertainty, where danger lingered in every shadow.

But wrapped around them, just as strong, just as consuming, was something else—

Love.

Dark, reckless, and unrelenting…

…carrying them forward into whatever waited.

This was requested by: poppyrosess

Clarksdale always smelled like dust and sugar rot in the summer. Molasses leaking from crates, hot earth baked flat, sin pressed into every floorboard.

Bo’s grocery sat on the corner like it had always been there and always would be wooden shelves, ceiling fan that barely worked, screen door that complained every time you opened it.

Smoke noticed the boy before anything else.

“You’re late,” Bo Chow grumbled, adjusting his apron.

“Traffic,” Eli said smoothly, flashing a grin that had Bo’s left eye twitching.

Smoke’s gaze caught him immediately. There was something about the kid slick, confident, almost too self-assured for someone so young. Fourteen, maybe fifteen. And yet, the kind of charm that could make grown men bristle or blush.

Eli was talking to a girl stacking cans near the shelves. Lisa. She giggled at something he said, tossing her hair, and Eli winked like it was some kind of private joke.

Bo shook his head. “I swear, this damn boy’s gotta mouth on him.”

Smoke’s lips twitched. He knew Stack’s reputation—knew what kind of smooth talker he had been back in the day—but this kid… this kid was Stack 2.0, all charm and sly confidence, and yet with Mary’s sharpness lurking behind his gaze.

“Mind if I ask,” Smoke said slowly, leaning against the counter, “who’s the kid?”

Bo gave him a sideways look, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “That’s Eli. Works here part-time. Mary’s boy.”

Smoke froze, the words hanging there like smoke curling in the air. Mary’s boy.

Eli noticed the pause and tilted his head, one brow raised. “Ya okay, mister? Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Smoke chuckled, shaking it off. “ Ya talks a lot like someone I know.”

Eli’s grin widened. “Well, I hear compliments from strangers don’t come cheap ’round here. You buying?”

Bo groaned from behind the counter, and Lisa laughed quietly, watching the exchange. Eli leaned closer, conspiratorial, his voice low and smooth. “Don’t worry, I always pay my dues.... mostly.”

Smoke studied him. That smirk, the easy way he spoke, the confidence that made the adults around him simultaneously nervous and entertained. It was uncanny and yet, he had no inkling who this boy’s father really was.

Meanwhile, Eli was oblivious. He flirted shamelessly with Lisa, teased Bo, and joked with Smoke, whose amusement was tempered by a flicker of unease he couldn’t quite name.

“Mary’s got her hands full, I suppose,” Smoke said finally, nodding toward the back, “raising a kid like this.”

Bo chuckled, shaking his head. “Hands full? You have no idea. Eli’s got Mary wrapped ’round his little finger, and he doesn’t even know it yet.”

Eli winked at Lisa, tossing the coin one last time before sliding behind the counter again. Smoke’s gaze lingered, and for the first time in years, he wondered if history could repeat itself quietly, in the form of a boy with his father’s charm, and Mary’s fire.