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★━━─ ・‥...━━━☆
fezco's grandma was a motherfuckin' g.
and so was her wife.
"i ought to burn this bitch to the ground." judith peters, the grandmother of jackson peters, spoke hoarsely from the front seat. there was a cigarette placed between her lips, leaving a nearly empty pack despite buying it mere hours before.
the children remained side by side, matching black eyes that sported their faces. while fez's came from his father, jackson's came from his quick defense over his best friend. the peters boy had expected it, of course, but was willing to go down with fez in name of loyalty.
their memories together went so far back, they couldn't register a time they weren't glued to the hip. the friendship blossomed from their grandmothers relationship that eventually became a marriage without the legal representation.
not that they ever needed it.
the celebration they had thrown in honor of the women's love left the boys calling each other brother rather than best friends, yet it was made especially clear when fezco could no longer stay with his father.
the children watched judith's face light up at the sight of her wife exiting the strip club while stuffing her gun back into the waistline of her blue suit. neither of the wives decided to speak of the violence just committed, a mutual agreement over the fact.
marie o'neill joined the little family they'd created with a steady gaze upon her grandchild. "i just spoke to your daddy," the woman caressed the bruise painting his skin in a gentle sense. "you're coming to live with us now, okay?"
fez was nodding without a hint of hesitation, for it'd been a wish since jackson himself had joined the women permanently the year prior.
and even though they weren't like the best guardians, they taught them everything they knew about life.
"bag that shit up. put it in your fuckin' tighty-whities. cops ain't gonna pat down two fuckin' ten year olds." marie was playfully shoving judith's frame away from her own, their genuine chuckles dying down enough to speak to the boys separating cocaine in the living room. "they don't want to be accused of being fuckin' pederasts. you know what i'm sayin'?"
he didn't really know much about his mom. his grandma never really liked to talk about her, except to occasionally say—
