#How to Tell the Difference Between Flapjacks and Pancakes

[thatsbelievable]

[damn-stark]

Chapter 5 God is alive; magic is afoot

Chapter 5 of Moon Star

A/N- I hope you guys like this chapter!!!

Warning- Violence, blood and weapons, swearing, Angst, FLUFF.

Pairing- Marc Spector x daughter!reader, Bob Reynolds x fem!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Ding.

Metal scrapes against glass plates, the soft sound of raindrops thumps against the restaurant window at your side, some overplayed pop song plays overhead, different conversations fill the small diner, but silence fills the small space between you and your dad.

Ding.

Do your lives have to be in danger to repeat that ever-so-loving bond that you shared that night?

Ding.

“These flapjacks are to die for,” Marc mumbles with his mouth full of food.

You only briefly glance at him and hum in agreement.

Ding.

Fucking jeez…

After annoying incoming messages, you finally turn the ringer off on your phone and place the screen down against the table's surface, making your dad look at your phone with curiosity as to why it’s been going off since you got to the restaurant.

He's tempted to ask, but he doesn't dare to, fearing it might upset you. He just continues eating in the awkward silence that's suffocating the both of you.

Maybe Steven could be better at this whole rebuilding relationships thing? Perhaps he can emerge, Marc thinks to himself as he eats the pancakes on his plate.

“So,” you break the silence and set your fork down to grab your milkshake. “It’s been a while since Khonshu left you to your lonesome, how does it feel? I mean you guys were together for quite some time,” you say as you begin to smirk as you catch the sound of your own comment.

Your dad sighs in response before he finally sets his silverware down and adds on. “Well, I don’t miss it. I finally feel free, you know?” He says whilst you begin to sip on your milkshake—“I felt stuck for years. Now I feel like I’m getting my shit together again.”

You offer him a faint smile and put your drink down to comment once you've swallowed your milkshake. “That’s good, I'm glad. What about Steven?”

Marc scoffs and lowers his gaze to slowly begin picking up his silverware. “Eh, he wasn’t aware of Khonshu until the very end, he won’t miss him.”

You begin to smile wider and lean in closer. “Is there a chance—” yet before you can finish what you planned to say, your phone begins to vibrate now, causing you to pick it up to check who’s annoying you.

“Busy?” Marc finally asks in a simple yet inquiring manner as he watches you as you realize that it's your local contact who wants to know if you’re interested in doing a small job.

“Eh,” you tell your dad mindlessly. “No, just…work,” you partially lie as you answer yes to the contact without giving it too much thought—“Just my tasks for next week. My boss always wants a lot done,” you tell your dad as you offer him a tight lipped smile when you put your phone in your bag.

Marc hums and then puts his things down to pull out something hidden under his shirt. You grow extremely curious so you lean over, but just before you can see what he took from his neck a flyer is placed on your table, drawing your attention to some middle-aged bald man.

“Join the cause,” he proclaims before he walks away.

“Join the cause,” you mock and pick up the flier, expecting something from the people's Christian god, but when you read what it says in big black letters, your smile fades and your amusement dies as anger and sadness take its place.

“What does it say?” Your dad asks before he takes the flyer from your hands to read it out loud. “Thanos was right, let’s put everything back as it was…” he trails off and slams the flyer down on the table before he instantly gets up on his feet to look for the bald man.

“Pa,” you whisper, and grab his hand to pull him back down. “Drop it. Just leave it alone.”

“No,” Marc retorts sharply. “No, why should I? What the hell was that purple fuck right about? Are these people listening to themselves?”

“No,” you interject and pull his sleeve down. “No they’re not, but I’m used to it.”

Marc slowly begins to sit back down and his anger slowly begins to turn to disbelief.

“That’s all people have been saying since half of the population came back,” you continue. “It’s messed up, but we can’t do anything about it. Just let them talk.” You sigh and let his hand go to raise yours and ask for the bill.

Marc looks back and catches the bald man leaving the restaurant and when you return all your attention to your dad you can tell that he wants to go after him, but you just insist for him to stay put.

“Maybe it was easy for some people,” you mumble as you wait for the waiter to come back with the check. “We can’t take that freedom of—”

“But it wasn’t easy,” your dad cuts you off. “For no one. People disappeared…you did,” he mumbles. “I thought it would stay that way for the rest of my life. A lot of us did.” He says and reaches for your hand as he also leans in closer. “It wasn’t easy. Don’t let these people guilt-trip you into thinking so.”

You lower your gaze and remember the moment you came back, the need to see him in that moment, and the pain when he didn’t come see you, so you quickly pull your hand back and turn your head away to hide the tears that form in your eyes.

“Here,” Marc whispers and returns you your crescent moon necklace after you had given it to him when you thought you’d never see him again. “It’s yours.”

You look down at the necklace and then look back at him with a faint scowl he doesn’t see since the waiter comes with the check.

“Here it is…”

You tune out the waiter as you look down at the necklace in your palm—You know the reason your father kept his distance, but why can’t it stop hurting? Why doesn’t this anger still linger?

“Where to next?” Marc breaks you from your train of thought, making you fist your hand over your necklace and then pull your hand down to your lap. “Uh,” you sigh. “Work. You wanted to see it, yeah? I can bring you in for a tour.”

——

*LATER*

“Building for a better tomorrow.”

“Oh wow,” you hear your father gasp as he begins to fall behind you.

“…look at Wakanda, all their technology is due to vibranium. Now that half of the population returned we are working towards matching their advancements without it.”

“Hi Fred,” you greet the receptionist as you prop your arms on the table.

“I thought you were off for the week, Spector,” he retorts as he rolls his chair around to grab your ID card.

“I am.” You nod slowly in agreement. “But my dad is in town. I wanted to show him the place.” You let him know as you knock your knuckles on the surface and peer back, seeing your dad—or correction Steven messing with the hologram on display in the middle of the lobby.

“Here,” Fred says and breaks you from your stupor to look back at him so you can grab your ID from his hand—“Here’s your guest pass. Bosses are out, knock yourself out.”

You shoot him a half smile and then pull away from the desk to walk towards Steven still putting his hand through the hologram.

“Hello!” The hologram suddenly speaks before an animation of a lightning bolt appears, causing Steven to jump back.

“Oh. Jeez…hi,” he mumbles.

“Steven?” You ask slowly since it could actually be Marc.

Yet as he turns he confirms your suspicion. “Yes. That’s me. I’m here. I just wanted to check out this lobby. It’s very cool,” he muses and begins to grin before looking back at the lightning bolt animation.

“Welcome to your future,” the animation speaks in a cartoonish voice so as to grab the attention of the public. Which is working since Steven is entertained by it

“Well, you'll have to say goodbye. I hear that they want to remodel it,” you let him know as you hand him the guest pass.

“The Avenger Tower,” Steven keeps musing as he takes the plastic card from and keeps looking around in awe. “I never thought I'd be here. This is so awesome!”

“Old Avenger tower,” you correct him.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “But still. They stood here. Literal Gods.”

You scoff at the mention because he's seen a god too. More than one.

“Steven,” you urge him softly, and then walk through the hologram to head towards the elevators. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Steven slowly follows you whilst he slowly turns around and looks up at the tall ceiling that looks like the sky since it is so high up.

“It’s so impressive here,” he says.

You nod and when you reach the elevators you hit the up button. “Right,” you agree. “I was taken aback when I first came here too.” You smile. “Standing where they stood. Bruce Banner and Tony Stark,” you share your own fascination. “It was fascinating to me too.”

Steven looks away from the ceiling and finally looks back at you to probe. “You work for the big man?”

You shake your head. “I work for a doctor who works for her, but I don’t work for her directly.”

“Oh,” he gasps and corrects himself. “Her. Sorry.”

“I haven't met her so it doesn't matter,” you brush him off and walk in the elevator to click the number of the floor you work on. When Steven walks in, the elevator closes shut and then moves up swiftly.

It almost feels like it's not moving.

“But soon,” you continue with a hopeful smile. “I will hopefully work directly for the woman in charge. If all goes well and I don’t fuck up I might even become his youngest senior reseacher.” You let out a deep sigh and can’t help but grin whilst Steven looks back at you. “I’m sure you will. I mean your gadget stuff is already so impressive.”

“Thank you,” you say with a soft smile before you look at the doors as the elevator comes to a stop.

“So what is it you’re working on?” You recognize Marc asking now that he emerges again.

“Well,” you sigh and step out to head down to your area, making your dad follow. “Right now since I am an intern, I just do a lot of watching. I take notes, fetch stuff for my boss, you know all that stuff,” you let him know, and turn right in the hall, seeing and hearing people working in their labs and offices. “But next week I will get some lab hours.” You share and turn another right to now head towards the lab your boss works at.

Before you can open the door, however, you scan your ID first to unlock the door, letting your dad know this isn't some small company.

“Just don’t touch anything, okay?” You warn him as you walk after the door automatically slides open.

“Yeah.” Your dad scoffs. “I’m not Steven.”

You laugh softly and roll your eyes. Once you’re inside the organized and empty lab a silence follows you in as your dad takes in every machine, every robotic arm turned off since no one’s working right now. He then walks over to the lab coats hanging by the door and looks back with a smirk.

“You wear one of these?” He asks out of genuine curiosity.

You nod. “Yeah, I do.”

Marc begins to grin and nods before he continues to wander.

“You know,” he begins to say. “I always imagined you’d be working at a big place like this…”

You stop walking around yourself and watch him with a soft look on your face that you can't help.

“I just, I don’t know…I always knew you were so freakin’ smart,” he continues and stops to crouch down slowly and look through a glass container that currently holds different gadgets and stuff the doctor is working on. “Every time I thought about your future something like this always came to mind.”

You scoff softly and smile down at the floor while you also begin gnawing on the inside of your cheek.

“You’re doing great, kid,” he compliments you and turns around to face you. “Definitely better than me.”

You slowly meet his gaze and smile shyly. “Trust me,” you redirect. “If I could be out there traveling the world in search of stolen artifacts I would. Adventure tempts me every day.”

“Nah. Nah.” Your dad shakes his head as he begins to make his way to the table you’re at. “It might be fun, but that provides no future. Not like this,” he says, and clicks his teeth as he points around. “This…this is where you need to stay, Wolfie. Become a science doctor or whatnot. Make your own stuff and make money the right way. Carve your own path.” He stops and leans over the table to keep holding your gaze. “That’s why I didn't want Khonshu messing with you. That type of work has the potential to ruin your life.”

You sigh and step back. “Layla is doing good,” you mention.

Marc nods. “She’s been lucky. But it’s a risk. Everyday. I...I don’t want you to run that.”

You drop your gaze and hum. How could—no. Just do it.

“Well, I think you’re very cool,” you admit in a quiet voice. “That’s never something that’s gone away.”

Marc slowly begins to stand up straight and slowly narrows his gaze as he also begins to smile shyly.

“While kids brought their parents metal name cards from their offices, I would bring pictures you took at all the different cities and the trinkets you had gotten me from Japan, or Mexico.” You begin to grin. “I was always the cool kid.”

Your dad chuckles and shakes his head. “Well,” he interjects. “Maybe they shoulda tried harder.”

You shrug and continue to speak the truth. “Nah, no one could outdo you in any of my classes. Not even Melissa with the firefighter dad.”

Marc smiles widely and averts his gaze as he seems flustered. He doesn’t say anything in the regard, he just pulls away from the table and continues to wonder.

You step away from your spot by the table and try to show him something you’ve been brainstorming, and hopefully, try to push yourself into telling him about the successful nano-tech you’ve been working on. However, before you can your phone begins to ring and when you check who it is you see that it's your contact for your job later tonight.

“It’s school,” you lie and head towards the door. “I’m going to step out for a minute. Don’t,” You point at him. “Touch anything.”

Before your dad can say anything in response you walk out and make sure the door is closed before you answer your phone.

“Hello,” you greet them and begin to wander away from the door.

“Spector,” your contact says in his usual mischievous tone of voice. “It’s a low-key grab today. 10pm at station 47 en route to Rockefeller.”

You groan and roll your eyes since it’s such a public grab.

“Man in his late 40s. Red hair. Green eyes. Carrying for one of his own contacts. Mike is his name. The artifact should be in a black satchel.”

You stop and glance back to make sure the lab door isn’t opening. “What is it?” You ask.

There's a short silence before your contact responds. “Old, ancient gold statues from the late 14 century, so be careful. I’ll meet you tomorrow at our usual place.” He then hangs up, letting you let out a deep frustrated breath as you turn your phone off and wonder…just for a second, if you shouldn't take it.

You already accepted, but you can always “accidentally miss it”.

After what your dad said about his dreams about your future and his pride toward you, you've started to wonder if you really should continue pursuing the dangerous life. As fun as it is, you want to be…renowned. More than the great minds that used to live in this tower.

You don't want to be known for your mistakes or a bad past like the ones that tainted theirs. You want to be inspiring in the most perfect way. You want to be perfect.

You don’t want your scales to be unbalanced.

With that in mind, you pull out your phone to reach out to your contact.

However, just before you can do a thing, your phone screen turns on by itself as your phone starts to ring again with Denver’s name shining on the screen

You almost don't answer, but it won't be suspicious if you linger in the hall for a few moments longer, so you answer your only friend so you don't risk losing him.

It's a big city. It can get lonely and you're finally not moving around or at risk of turning into dust, so you want to make this work.

“Denver,” you greet.

“Spector,” he hisses lightheartedly. “So how is your father treating you? Have a laugh? Or is he completely vexing?”

Vexing?

“Well,” you say and glance back at the door. “It's been awkward, but we're working on it, so not vexing…what's up?”

There's a moment of silence before he suddenly exclaims. “Ha! Well, I was wondering, you. Me. The mummy tonight while we get some work done of course…or you going to be out with your father all day?”

“No—”

“Are you planning to do something mischievous, my friend?” He asks teasingly but he hits the target perfectly as if he was inside your mind.

“Well…no,” you try to answer nonchalantly, but in his short time with you, he's gotten to know you well.

“What is it?” He probes. “That eyesore of a Lady Liberty? Or something from that ever so offensive museum?”

You gnaw at the inside of your cheek and hesitate, so he keeps pressing.

“Whatever it is there's power in your inventions,” he strokes your ego. “Use them tonight.”

You shake your head. “No,” you mumble. “Not tonight and…not Sunday either. I'm stepping back. This life that I think I want was to defy my dad…I don't need to anymore. I can be someone worth admiring if I follow the right path,” you say softly with your voice laced with hope.

“Admired? Is that it?” He asks in the same nonchalance, but it still makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. “What person worth admiring has walked a straight path? Gods didn't walk down such a perfect path without staining it and they're still admired.”

“Well, I am not a god,” you retort and turn to face the door.

“No,” he deadpans. “So why should you lead such a boring life without having a little harmless fun?”

You shake your head as you feel him pulling you back into that darkness. “Fun is dangerous.”

“Fun is thrilling,” he says softly and with every word laced with temptation. “Perfection is boring. Power is strength and the very thing you need to have that life you crave.”

You’re engulfed in the shadows again. You have a way out, but oh is it tempting to follow the uncarved you are making yourself with every sudden and thrilling choice you make.

Alas, before you can let him know what choice you want to make. Whether it’s the perfect narrow path, or the uncarved path basked in the shadows of mystery, the door opens and your dad pokes his head out.

“Is everything okay here?”

You hang up the phone and nod. “Yeah. Just got finished.”

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

The music in your ears gets louder as the doors to the subway slide open. A soft groan escapes your lips as you tighten your grip around the burning coffee cup in your hand and the satchel in your other hand. A variety of different scents dance in your nose as you step into the subway, and a variety of different people come into your peripheral view as you look from side to side. A redhead especially stands out to you though so you turn to walk to the right and scratch the itchy wig on your head while bopping your head to the music.

As you begin to approach the red-headed man with the black satchel discarded on the side of his feet, you pretend to look for a seat and pretend that you don’t see his feet out in the pathway to trip and “accidentally” drop your hot coffee on his lap.

“Watch where you’re going!” The man exclaims and jumps out of his seat with his hands up and his eyes on his coffee-stained pants.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry sir,” you say in a sweet voice and shift to his right to block his vision and drop your satchel next to him so Denver can take the seat next to the man and then quickly push the man's satchel out from under his seat so you can take it as if it was yours.

After that, rather than bringing attention to himself by standing up and moving, Marvin stays where he is and pretends to be busy on his phone. Meanwhile, you keep trying to apologize to the man using the best trick you have, the fact that you’re a young woman.

“I have,” you mumble and slip a backpack strap off your shoulder to look for a napkin. “I have something for you. I’m so sorry man. I’m such a klutz.”

The man takes one look at you and shakes his head before letting out a deep and annoyed sigh. “I should be more careful. My feet were in the aisle, sorry sweetheart,” he says in a Boston accent before he sits back down. “It’s okay. It’s just coffee.”

You let your backpack swing back and meet the man’s gaze with a feigned apologetic smile as you pick up the satchel. “I’m so sorry once again. I’ll be more careful,” you say and offer him one last sweet smile before you walk away and stay standing by the subway door.

You then proceed to go on your phone to pretend to be busy on it while actually actively reading a message your dad sent you instead of scrolling mindlessly.

Dad:

Steven wants to go to Coney Island tomorrow. That okay?

You smile faintly at your phone and immediately respond.

You:

Yeah. Sounds fun :)

The subway begins to roll to a slow stop thereafter so you put your phone in your jacket pocket and wait. Once the doors open you make sure to get lost in the crowd. You then peer back and make sure the red-headed man isn’t close.

When you don’t see him nearby you pull off the backpack you had bought at some thrift store, and place it down by a homeless man’s makeshift music stand.

“Thank you,” he salutes you.

You offer him a partial smile and as you climb up the steps of the subway station and begin to see the dark polluted sky over the Rockefeller Center you pull your headphones off and tuck them in your pocket. You then proceed to put your hood on and slip off the cheap red wig from your head to throw it in the trash can. After all, they say that the most subtle changes are the best kind.

Nevertheless, once you begin to walk past the Rockefeller Center to head towards the bike you left behind earlier. However, once you turn onto the street you left your bike at, it’s of course gone.

Damn.

You sigh and have no choice but to walk home now.

At least it isn’t far from here, you think to yourself as you grip onto the satchel and pull out your phone to text your contact whilst you slowly turn to face the sidewalk.

You:

I have it.

You put your phone away and when you look up you see the red-headed man from the subway, along with two other men with black hoods over their heads.

“You really thought you would get away with it that easily?” The redhead asks with a scowl on his long face.

“It was easy to take.” You say nonchalantly.

The man scoffs whilst the other two snicker at him, making the redhead pierce his glare at you, and then, without warning, he reaches back to pull out a handgun hidden in his jacket and point it at your chest.

Without letting go of the satchel and as the man doesn’t hesitate whatsoever to hit the trigger, you cross your wrists over one another and manage to stop the bullet with the bangles that are hidden under your jacket sleeves.

A sharp pain doesn't fail to sting your arms where the bullet hit the bangles, but the good thing is that there’s no blood trickling down your arms or other intense pains. It…

It worked!

THE FUCKING NANOTECH WORKED!

You blink and look at your wrists in disbelief and pride whilst the men blink rapidly in shock.

“Wh—” the redhead gasps and slowly lowers his gun to look at you.

“She’s a freak!” The friend on his right side proclaims before he also reaches back, making you snap your eyes to him before uncrossing your arms and lifting up your left sleeve to go on your apple watch and change the bangles to claws like the ones Khonshu had provided for you in the short time you wore his ceremonial armor.

The man on the right sees all this happening and expects to catch you off guard so he pulls the trigger, but before he can shoot, you lunge forward and swing your hand to gash his arm, causing him to drop his gun. You then swiftly twist around to face the redhead, and proceed to swing your hand again, managing to gash his face before he can shoot again.

However, as you’re distracted with those two, before you can hit the guy on the left, he gets to you first and bashes something hard and cold on the bridge of your nose.

You keep hold of the satchel, but immediately lift your hand to cup your wounded nose and groan as a sharp pain radiates throughout your offended area.

“Fucking…DICKHEAD,” you curse the man and stumble back. “Ah.”

Thick warm liquid begins to trickle down through the gaps of your fingers and drips off your chin. “<Son of a bitch>,” you curse in Spanish. “<Dickhead>.”

Before you can let go of your nose you suddenly feel a tug on your satchel, so you drop your hand to look down and catch the redhead’s hand on the satchel. Thus you pull right back and slowly glower at him before you kick him in the crotch without shifting your gaze his way.

“Stupid little—” he groans and stumbles back.

The man on the right picks up his gun off the ground and points it at you. Yet just as you snap your eyes towards him suddenly a large figure comes out from the shadows and tackles him to the ground.

“What the hell,” you gasp and squint your gaze on the scene that suddenly unfolded before you, catching the man groaning and on the ground.

The red-headed man also looks over and begins to pant before looking over at you and pointing his knife at you.

“You—”

“Here,” a familiar hisses from behind and reveals his brown hands first as suddenly wraps them around the man’s face before he yanks him back into the shadows.

You step back and away from the scene, but suddenly stop when you catch a flash of who this intruder is. It’s Denver. He’s the one who came out of the shadows.

“Denver?” You ask with disbelief.

Said man looks over after he punches the man in the throat and flashes you a smug grin. Before he can address you formally he first knocks out the man he was towering over and then begins to walk out of the shadows and into the light, making you slowly approach him with confusion written all over your face.

“Stay back!” The man left standing bellows and points his knife at you.

“You or me?” Denver asks as he glances over at the man.

You gulp and look back at the man before taking a couple of steps towards him.

“Stay back!” The man yells out shakily and steps back until the heel of his shoes hits the gun that belonged to the red-headed man. He then glances down and quickly bends down to reach it, but Denver then hurls a rock at him and hits him square in the face, causing him to stumble back with a yelp.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as you approach the struggling man

“I followed you,” Denver throws out casually. “Of course.”

“Why?” You quip. “Your part of the job was done. I told you not to come,” you scold your friend.

“Well,” he sighs. “Here I am after I saved your life.”

You roll your eyes and the man looks over your shoulder before looking at you horrified. “Who—”

Before he can finish you cut him off by using your bracelet to taser him until he’s unconscious.

Once he’s on the ground you face Denver with a pointed look.

“Care to explain?” You immediately blurt as you walk to him now without distractions.

“Why I saved your—”

“Why you stalked me,” you cut him off and stop under the light to put your hand on your hip. “Why would you risk yourself like this?”

“Oh,” he breathes out. “I understand now. Well, how could I possibly let you come alone after I knew what you were doing?”

“You were not supposed to worry about me after I got off that train. I know what I'm doing you—”

“I am your friend,” he interrupts you this time and walks toward you with his hands out. “The only one I have. That's what friends do.”

You look at his open hands and watch him stop before you with his hands still waiting.

You hesitate and still wonder why he got to you so fast, but with your heart cast in a depressing solitude, you take his hands as if giving him all your trust and offer him a sweet smile, making his lips pull to a very smug smile.

“Thanks.” You offer him with your gaze averted. “Thank you for helping me. It seems you always find me at the right time. Should I be scared because you’re possibly stalking me? Or should I be forever grateful?”

“Stalking you?” Denver quips in amusement and props his hands on his hips. “It’s not my fault you always need me.”

You scoff and shrug in defeat. “Okay, I appreciate that you got here when you did. I was cornered, but I could have handled it.”

He nods. “Oh, yes, I know. Now what are we going to do about that nose?”

It hurts to sniffle so you just have your hands hover over the offended area. “Put the bone back in place and come up with something to tell my dad.”

Denver chuckles. “The truth?”

You scoff. “Funny.”

He smirks and points his head back. “Let's get you home,” he offers you before he grabs your shoulder and turns you towards your way home.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “Aren't you busy?”

He shakes his head. “No. I have nothing planned but to mend your nose.”

“Okay,” you whisper and pretend to give in in defeat when in reality you’re glad. It feels like you’re going to actually puke and pass out with the pain throbbing as sharp as it is.

“Okay I have one important question,” Denver interjects as you're making your way home.

You glance over at him and nod. “Shoot,” you encourage him.

“How are you so good at fighting?” He asks. “You’re very good.”

You scoff softly and drift your gaze away as you begin to smirk smugly. “Well, my step mom taught me for one and two.” You sigh. “I was trying to prove something to my dad.” You begin to grin now. “If he wasn’t going to teach me, I was going to find my own way. We've made up since then, but that’s what encouraged me then.”

Denver hums and he offers you a half smile. “Those are very good reasons,” he says.

“I know,” you quip with the same cocky attitude. “Where did you learn how to fight?” You ask curiously as you try your best to ignore the pain you're currently suffering. “You're very fast. I almost missed you.”

Denver’s eyes narrow for a brief second before he looks at you with a lighthearted look. “I sought classes. While all the other children were busy doing other things, I…was building my muscle, toning my body, and learning how to fend for myself.” He says with a hint of anger lacing in his tone and showing in the way he tenses his jaw, but it's brief because when he remembers where he is his face softens again.

“I was not going to give them the pleasure of seeing me broken,” he adds, making you offer him an awkward pitiful look as you round a corner.

“They had taken so much already,” he whispers as his face remains soft.

“Well,” you interject kindly. “They can't break you now.”

Denver meets your gaze and the corner of his lips perk up into a small smirk. “No.” He shakes his head. “They cannot. Perhaps they'll try. They always find me, but,” he adds with an air of arrogance. “I always manage to win.”

“Besides, now you have me,” you reassure him. “If you ever need help, come to me, I'll always be there for you.”

Denver snickers and nods softly. “Yes, I do, don't I?” He grins and then hides his face by looking both ways down the street. When you know it's clear you cross the street without asking or even thinking about why he found what you said so amusing. You just cross the street and make your way to your small apartment.

“You hardly talk about your past,” you tell Denver. “So thank you for trusting me.”

There's silence from Denver so you stop past the door and turn to face him, but he turns away quickly to close the door, making you miss any possible reaction he could've had on his face.

“And you're an open book,” he quips, making you turn away to head to the bathroom now that he shows you that he's not bothered.

“Hardly,” you mutter. “You know just enough.”

“Sure,” he teases while you’re away grabbing what you need and he’s left to wonder about an apartment he’s been to multiple times already.

However as familiar as he is with your living space there’s a new change he comments on. “Are these new?” He asks loud enough so you can hear him from where you are.

You grab a first-aid kit, a splint, and a bandage from the bathroom counter under your sink and don’t even dare to look at yourself in the mirror while you're moving about in the bathroom. You’re too afraid to see the bloody aftermath, so you just quickly turn the lights off and stride out to join Denver in the living room as he’s looking at the picture of you, your dad, and Steven from today.

“Oh?” You wonder and glance at the pictures before setting everything down on your coffee table to get a stool from the kitchen. “Yeah. They're for my grandpa,” you let him know. “He wants pictures of me and my dad and he can't work out how to print them himself, so I'm printing them to send them to him.”

Denver snorts. “Elder people are so wise yet so stupid. It’s fascinating. Thank the stars I am not going to get old.”

You snicker and probe. “Oh? How come? Do you know something I don’t?” You taunt and he quips right back. Or at least you thought he did.

“Do you want to know?”

“Please be gentle, okay?” You say as you come back to the living room, changing the subject to your throbbing nose you can't ignore anymore.

“Gentle?” Denver repeats with amusement and stands from his seat to grab what he needs. “Okay.”

You quirk your brow and counter. “What’s so funny about that?”

Denver shrugs and opens the first-aid kit to take out the alcohol wipe packets. “You were handling those men not so gently.”

You laugh and shake your head as you take a seat on the stool. “That doesn’t matter. I mean I can take a punch, but I'm sucker at actually tolerating the pain afterwards. No matter how tough I act.”

Denver scoffs and gently pulls out a wipe after he tears the packet open. “Pain is temporary. There's nothing to fear about it,” he says, and leans down to carefully wipe up to the bridge of your nose where you can feel a small cut.

“Well, maybe for you, but not for me,” you retort and meet his focused bright green eyes.

“That's because you have been spoiled with comfort and told that everything was going to be okay your whole life,” he argues while without warning, dabs the wipe on your nose, making you wince and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Damn,” you hiss under your breath and grip onto the stool.

“It's not even the worst part,” he mutters and throws the wipe on the table to grab another so he can clean the moist blood that was stained on your upper lip without anything to add the entire time. All while you open your eyes and study him, the rich color of his earth-colored eyes, the way his eyebrows furrow with the thoughts spinning within his mind, and wondering if he can feel the heat rising off your cheeks as they're slowly growing warm.

His thoughts spin, you can tell, but you can't know what he might be feeling now at this moment, and you don't ask either. You just watch him pull his hand away to throw the wipe on the table.

“Now we're at the bad part,” he says with the corner of his lips slightly perked up. “I’ll make it fast.”

You gulp and part your lips to ask him to count so you can prepare yourself, but he kept true to his word.

Denver presses his hands against the bridge of your nose and cracks the bone back in place, causing you to instantly yelp and throw your head down as a blinding obliterating pain shoots out and radiates throughout your nose.

“<Son of a bitch,” you swear in Spanish. “Son of a bitch. Ah—>”

“It's over,” Denver once again is true to his word. There's not even a hint of comfort. He just grabs what he used and walks off to throw it all away.

“Fuck, it’s fine,” you murmur to yourself and lift yourself off the stool in hopes walking will make it all better. “You’re good.” You let him know with a shaky sigh and drop your hand back at your side.

Denver walks back to the living room and picks up the splint, making you make your way back to him to finish this whole ordeal.

“Can I ask you something else?” Denver asks and continues before you can give him your okay. “Why are you risking your life for the work you do?”

You lower your gaze and shrug gently. “I guess it's because it's something my family is into. My dad, my step mom…I’ve always liked what they do.” You share with a small smile. “It’s fun to me, and before it also fell under the same category of me trying to prove something to my dad.”

He hums and nods as he takes note of what you said and also reaches for the bandage strip to carefully place it over your splint. “I understand what you mean,” he says as he holds your gaze. “I can’t stop doing what I do either. The rush. The excitement. The glory. The power. It is all…”

“Thrilling?” You finish for him and his eyes brighten.

“Exactly!” He exclaims with a wicked look in his green eyes.

You smile at him either way before you begin to frown and then rebuttal. “The difference is that you do good. I steal stuff, I beat people up and I like it,” you pause and avert your gaze as you think back to those damn scales. “I’m not a good person. You are.”

Denver puts down the wrapper and stays close. “Who said that?” He retorts with an honest curiosity.

“Would you believe it if I said scales by an Egyptian goddess?” You say and feign a laugh as you roll your head up.

“I would,” he assures you. “But you cannot believe what the Gods say or think. It's all bogus and it's all to boost their egos because they think they're all mighty with everything they were given, but the truth is that they are not all mighty.”

Your eyebrows knit together and you probe. “Have you crossed many gods in your lifetime?”

Denver turns away and chuckles before he avoids the question and returns to the conversation. “I think that you are the way you are for a reason and that is not a bad thing. Take pride in it.”

You smile and feel your heart begin to pound in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Denver faces you again and offers you a brief smile before he turns away from you again before anything else could happen and just as a knock raps on your door, startling you and making Denver tense.

The knock raps again before suddenly a voice echoes. “Love, it’s me. It’s Steven.” He laughs softly. “I know, I know I should’ve called or texted, but would you guess what? My phone died.”

“Oh,” you whisper and walk toward the door, but before you can reach it you turn to Denver. “It's okay, you can stay here.”

Denver nods stiffly and you finish making your way to the door to open it and greet Steven.

“Steven.” You grin but pass him a questioning look. “Hey, man, what’s up? Come in.” You welcome him kindly and step aside to let him walk in before shutting the door, expecting to see Denver.

“I have a friend…” you trail off when you don't see him in the living room where you had left him. “I had a friend over,” you mutter and notice that the window is opening, letting in the air and telling you how he made his escape.

“I guess he got nervous,” you say, and watch the window for a moment before you turn to Steven. “Whad brings you here?”

“We were in the neighborhood,” Steven explains. “So I thought I’d come and drop off our favorite,” he says and lifts the brown paper bag in his hand with a sweet smile. “Donuts. There was this neat vegan…” Steven trails off and his smile fades as worry sets in rather quickly.

“Hey,” he says and points at his own nose. “What happened, love?”

You lift your hand over your nose and quickly make something up. “Boxing,” you blurt. “I had boxing class today. My partner missed the swing.” You laugh breathlessly. “I’m all good though, don’t worry.”

Steven hesitates but slowly nods as he puts his hand back down at his side. “Well if you say so.” He sighs and begins to smile again. “I brought you a chocolate donut and a glazed one, so enjoy. That’s all I came here for. Oh! And to wish you a goodnight.”

“Are you sure?” You ask. “My friend is not here anymore. You can stay a while longer. I can make some tea or something else.”

Steven glances around the room and then finds your gaze. “Are you positive? I don’t want to intrude.”

You shake your head. “I’m positive. Stay.”

“Well okay then,” he says and makes his way further inside to make himself at home. “Just a little while because I know that you might have homework.”

You chuckle and make your way to the kitchen. “I finished it all already before you got here,” you let him know to reassure him so he doesn't have to worry. “It's all quite easy at the moment so I get done fast.”

“Well, aren't you a smart cookie,” he teases, making you giggle before you bring something up that just came to mind. “I bought us matching shirts that say I Love New York,” you giggle. “So tell Marc to get ready for that.”

Steven grins. “Really? That’s rad! I’ve always wanted one.”

“Me too,” you say and shoot him a smile.

“Oh!” He exclaims. “I hope you don’t mind that it’s just me and you tomorrow. Marc can’t hog up all our time with you.”

“Sounds like a nice plan.”

“Maybe you can invite your friend to Coney Island with us?” Steven adds.

“Yeah, I’ll let him know,” you say mindlessly and glance at the window where Denver had made his grand escape even though you didn’t give him a reason to fear your dad.

How odd.

.

.

.

.

Tagged: @broadwaytraaaaash @jasminemohmed @padsdarlg @seninjakitey @anonoussy @mateihavenoidea @queenofthekill @scoliobean

[spencersawkward]

not to go full fluff central but omg can you write a one shot about matthew hanging out with his kids?? i see him as a girl dad and he would 100% play dress up with them and they would be wrapped around his finger and itd be so sweet it could cause cavities lmao i just want that man to have children so bad

ugh yes i want him to have kids so bad and YES he 100% is a girl dad i definitely agree. this was super interesting to write tbh bc i did it from his perspective but i'm glad i did and i'm glad you asked for it bc we love a saccharine one-shot! also i'm so bad at names for characters i'm sorry lol.

summary: Matthew has a day off with his two daughters!

content warnings: none! literally just fluffy fluff with a side of fluff.

word count: 2.1k

masterlist

when Matthew wakes up to the press of a crayon on his forearm, he nearly startles. his head jerks up to see his daughter, Juniper, trying to draw on him. her hair is neatly braided and the other side of the bed is empty, indicating that his wife has already gotten up.

"good morning, sweetpea." he says to Juniper with a tired smile, wincing when she tries in vain to draw on him. wax on skin doesn't work that way.

"it isn't working, Dad." she pouts. she throws the purple crayon onto the bed and stares at him. she's got dark lashes framing huge, beautiful eyes, and a gap between her front teeth. she pried out the baby tooth a week ago-- seven years old and already determined to take it out herself-- and has been showing it around the house like a trophy.

"maybe we can try with markers after I get up." he suggests. she peers at him with an impatient expression.

"fine." although the word is venomous, she crawls up the bed until she's tucked beneath his arm and he kisses the top of her head. Matthew smiles to himself as he holds her, happy to have the whole day to spend with his kids. he hasn't had a day off in forever.

"should we make breakfast for you and your sister?" he asks cheerfully.

"yes!" she leaps up to stand on the bed, jumps around a little bit on the cushy mattress. "come on!"

"okay, okay," he chuckles, throwing off the covers. "let me brush my teeth first, sweetheart."

"I'm coming with." Juniper is insistent as she follows him. he takes out his toothbrush and toothpaste while she paws through her mother's makeup drawers and skincare. she grabs a bottle of perfume and examines it carefully. "what is this?"

"let's be careful with that." Matthew turns from the mirror, where he can see the rat's nest of hair on his head while he brushes his teeth, and gently puts the glass bottle back on the counter. Juniper crosses her arms.

"what is it?" she repeats. her father finishes up, then lifts her into his arms like she's a sack of potatoes.

"it's your mom's favorite smell." he clarifies. after kissing her little cheek, he walks into the kitchen with Juniper's arms wrapped around his neck. she clings to him like he is everything in the world, and he realizes that this is one of his favorite parts of the day. whenever he holds his daughters, he feels the kind of joy that simply can't be replicated. his heart overflows for them.  

"morning, sleepyhead." Y/N looks up from the counter, where she's biting into a piece of toast and talking excitedly to their other child, Autumn. Matthew grins at the sight of her, so beautiful when she's laughing with her daughter.

"morning." he's smitten.

"I have to go in a minute, but I figured you'd be able to handle a day with them?" she comes over to him and kisses his lips, saying the last part softly. Juniper leans her head on her father's chest, staring at her mother with those enormous eyes.

"with these two devils?" Matthew nods to the girls. "of course."

Y/N shakes her head with a laugh and gives each of her daughter's foreheads before grabbing her purse.

"bye, Mama!" Juniper and Autumn say in unison.

"bye, my angels. I love you very much." she smiles warmly, ruffling Autumn's silky curls before touching Matthew's arm tenderly and heading out of the kitchen. he watches her go, waits for the sound of the lock clicking into place, before he looks conspiratorially between the remaining household.

"who wants pancakes?" he smirks. their ensuing squeals are affirmation enough.  

...

"Dad, can I show you my ballet tutu?" Autumn surprises Matthew by grabbing onto his leg while he's making pancakes. Juniper is standing on a stool beside him, watching and helping to flip the flapjacks.

"nobody wants to see that, Autumn." Juniper scowls impatiently at her younger sister. Matthew turns to his little one and smiles.

"I would love to see your new tutu, sweetheart." he says. Autumn gives the other girl a triumphant look before running off to her room. when Matthew looks at Juniper, she blushes. "be nicer to your sister, Juni." he says gently.

the little scolded creature crosses her arms over her chest and turns her gaze to the pancakes. she knows she's not supposed to be mean, but sometimes Autumn is just so annoying. Matthew can't even pretend to stay mad for long, however, and offers the spatula to her.

"do you wanna flip it?" he smiles.

"yep!" Juniper quickly slides the utensil under the pancake, her father's hand guiding hers to make sure she doesn't accidentally burn herself. she's a smart girl, but she's inherited his lack of coordination (and his nose). they giggle together at the sound of the batter slapping the pan.

"dad, look!" Autumn tugs on the leg of his pants and he glances down to see her wearing a bright pink tutu over her leggings. his jaw drops open in wonderment, tinged with a smile.

"oh my goodness!" he gasps, hoisting her into his arms and burying his face in her curls. "you look just like a princess!"

she giggles. Matthew turns off the stove for a moment to spin her around in his arms before setting her down again and crouching to look at her. "can we see your dance routine after breakfast?"

Autumn nods shyly. he holds her tiny hand in his and kisses the back of it before standing back up. Juniper waits for him on her stool. they get back to cooking, both girls chatting about anything and everything while their father listens intently.

once they set the plates out on the table, Juniper volunteers to distribute forks and knives, and soon they've got a whole spread of golden brown pancakes, whipped cream, and fruit. they heap their dishes with food. the girls have a tendency to take more than they can actually eat, but that's okay. he loves the look of excitement in their eyes when they drizzle syrup over everything.

"nice job, kiddos." he nods, impressed, like they've made the whole meal themselves. both siblings grin back at him proudly. "let's dig in!"

he's hungry. Matthew cracks a couple jokes while they eat, pokes Autumn's stomach when she gets full halfway through her third pancake, and then both he and Juniper watch her do her ballet routine for them. she spins, twirls, smiles as she finishes the dance by throwing both arms into the air like she's won an Olympic gold medal. in his eyes, she has.

even Juniper is supportive and claps with a smile at her sister's achievement. although she teases and can be a bit too harsh with her younger sibling at times, the truth is that she's proud of her. it's evident in the way they play together in the summer, running around beneath the sun while Matthew and his wife sip on glasses of iced tea.  

"brava!" he cheers when she skips back to her seat at the table. "a royal performance!"

"dad, can we have more whipped cream?" Juniper eyes the canister on the table with hungry eyes. he mulls this over for a second, enamored with the fact that she is so clearly his daughter. down to her features and mannerisms, her tendency to crawl onto the couch and watch the scary movies with him that she probably shouldn't be watching at her age. Autumn looks more like her mother, sweet and optimistic. a dreamy expression on her face.

he grabs the canister from the middle of the spread and pops the cap off the top.

"only if you don't tell your mother." he laughs. Juniper shakes her head vehemently like a half promise and opens her mouth as he puts a pile of whipped cream in it. he does it to Autumn next, then himself. they lean back in their chairs, rubbing their bellies with satisfaction.

"yummy." Juniper grins.

"whipped cream is the best topping in the world," Matthew says matter-of-factly, passing down a pearl of knowledge that will stay with them forever. "don't ever let anyone tell you different."

the three of them clean the dishes together, blowing suds all over the room while they listen to Sam Cooke and dance. the house rings with their laughter and the sounds of feet hitting the ground in rhythmic elation, the kitchen their personal concert hall.

if he could only bestow a few life lessons on them, one of them would be the importance of listening to old music.

Matthew wishes that he could spend all his days with them, making breakfast and hearing their crazy ideas. the world is so full and open to them, he sometimes finds himself thinking about how they're going to conquer it. they've got a grittiness to them that they could only get from their mother-- an absolute sureness that stiffens their little spines-- and an imagination that could fill books with stories. he wants to paint for them, do everything for them.

but for today, they head to Autumn's room and play dress-up with the enormous chest of costumes by her bed. should he work on not spoiling her so much? maybe. he doesn't care. she's absolutely adorable when she hauls out princess dresses, doctors' jackets and stethoscopes, other disguises. he thinks she's going to be an actress; she loves to take on different jobs and throw herself into them, walking around the house ordering that her next patient be brought in or for someone to prepare her microscope. her mind is full of ideas.

Juniper pretends to be disinterested in dressing up, but she gives up the act once Autumn hands her a tiara to wear and pours her imaginary tea.

"what flavor is this?" Matthew takes a sip from his miniature cup, fanning his mouth like it's hot. "it's divine."

"it's normal tea, you cuckoo bird." Autumn giggles. she sets the teapot down on the plastic table.

"I'm a cuckoo bird?" he pretends to be offended. "you're a cuckoo bird!"

"no I'm not!" Autumn protests, but Matthew is already wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his lap. he tickles her sides.

"you're the cuckoo bird!" he repeats through her fits of laughter. she squeals and kicks with joy until he sets her back on her feet.

"your hair is crazy." Juniper scolds. Matthew sighs and runs a hand through the unruly curls. they always tease him about it, and somehow it never gets old.

"probably because this one messed it up with her claws." he pokes Autumn's side and he suppresses a gleeful smile.

"Dad, you need a tiara, too." Juniper points to the empty spot on his head. "Autumn, get him one."

the younger sister looks like she's going to defy her sister's bossy demand, but decides against it and runs off to grab another bejeweled piece to place on her father's head. it's comical, the way the tiny thing sits.

"thank you, sweetpea." he smiles at his youngest, pinching her cheek before glancing between the two of them seriously. "how do I look?"

"silly." Juniper giggles. she straightens it out on his head and he wrinkles his nose.

"hey! boys can wear tiaras, too," he defends with mock attitude. "now, can I have more tea, please? I finished mine already."

"of course." Autumn stands diplomatically and pours him a new cup while they pretend to snack on baked goods. Matthew tells them about the new movie he's directing, dipping into his storyteller voice and wiggling his fingers with every mention of a spooky plot point. the girls sit at rapt attention, hanging on his every word, despite the fact that he's got a miniature tiara on his head.

they adore him, and every second he's there, they revel in it. they love their mother, too, of course. but days with their dad are just... different. he lets them eat whipped cream by themselves and tells them stories, kisses their foreheads and dances in the kitchen with them. they always have fun together, no matter how dreary the day is. and those feelings won't change as they get older; he's their rock, their security. he always will be.

[jeepers-comets]

okay okay okay, so something i’ve noticed about kipo and the age of wonderbeasts

So, I was rewatching Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts recently, and I noticed something about the music.

Throughout the show, when two characters are having a truly emotionally vulnerable moment with each other, the instrumental of “What We Have Is You” start playing underneath the scene. It also doesn’t seem to matter if the two people are family, significant others, friends, or otherwise, just that there is a moment of emotional connection between them. It kind of feels like the song can also refer to other forms of love, not just familial as we see Kipo and Lio use it originally.

S1 E9: Jamack and Kipo in the sewers talking about the effect of fear on a person who’s afraid of change/loss

S2 E1: Benson and Troy being cuties together talking about if flapjacks and pancakes are the same or different

S2 E2: Lio and Baby Kipo when they were found by the Cherve Sisters where Kipo felt safe with Lio and retracted her jaguar paw

S2 E5: A flashback of Lio and Song announcing that they’re having Kipo

S2 E6: Lio is actually humming the melody to Baby Kipo with the undertones in the background in another flashback (also hints of it when Song watches as Lio and Kipo escape their old burrow)

S2 E8: Lio and Kipo choosing to not keep secrets from each other anymore after Scarlemagne explains to Kipo his origin story

S2 E9: (this time played in a lower key) After Scarlemagne mind controls Lio where he tells him that he was wrong to have given up on him

S3 E1: Dave and Lio bonding and Lio talking about how Dave is a good friend for helping him keep his mind off of Kipo being in danger

S3 E7: As Benson and Dave finish the story of how they first met. More specifically as Dave says “Don’t let this be your Fan, Kipo.”

S3 E8: VERY briefly after Kipo tells the Mutes that she didn’t sink the boat and after they leave, Scarlemagne and Jamack stand next to her to show support (fun follow up: Jamack’s actually not crossing his arms in this scene like he tends to do when he’s around other people/in earlier episodes. His hands are in his pockets instead, which I think shows how he’s less guarded towards other people/Kipo and her friends and that he’s more confident being a part of the group and being himself around people who he cares for because they care for him in return)

I tried to capture as many scenes I found this in, but feel free to add to this list or correct me if anyone finds any!

[13-reasons-ideas]

Hey🌸 your blog is my fave I love all the Monty love! Could u do #21 from Drabble Challenge: 1-150 “he’s a bad kisser” I kinda had this idea where she’s excited and getting ready for a date with this guy from school that’s she’s had a crush on, turns out he’s not as great as she thought and calls Monty (her best friend) and vents to him about everything & he’s secretly happy cause he’s always liked her ... let’s just say he shows her what a good kiss feels like😉

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. I had a hard time figuring out the date, because its been... at least 5 years since I went on an actual first date. I hope you like this. I combined a couple of asks because they asked for basically the same thing. I also suck at titles. I hope you like it! 

Bad Date? 

t finally happened. Dillion finally asked me out. Tonight was the night of our first date. I cannot tell you how long I’ve had a crush on him, probably since the seventh grade at least. The first and only person I wanted to tell about my excitement was nowhere to be found. I checked my watch quickly and saw that it was 3:25. Monty would be heading into the locker room to change for baseball practice. If I run there, I could probably catch him. As I looked up from my watch, I caught sight of everyone’s favourite jock. “Jeff. Hey Atkins!” I called out to him. He turned around and saw me.

“Hey flapjack, what’s up?” He asked, using the nickname the boys had given me back in fourth grade, when I snuck them all in on a Saturday morning and made pancakes while we watched cartoons.

“Have you seen Monty?” I asked, trying to contain my excitement.

“No, but I can grab him from the locker room for you if you need. Is everything okay?” He asked, mild concern etching his face.

“Yeah. No everything’s great. Would you mind? I’d go in myself but… I don’t need to see that.” I was trying not to bounce at this point. He nodded and motioned for me to follow him. As I waited for him to send Monty out, I heard the boys yelling and generally being idiots.

“Hey de la Cruz, your girl needs to talk to you. I’d hurry before she gives herself an aneurysm or something. She seems pretty eager about whatever it is.” Jeff called through the room. I heard the guys give Monty a playful hard time about it, but they knew that there was nothing romantic between us. Monty popped out of the room and I couldn’t help the brief look to his chiseled abdomen. I said nothing romantic, not that I didn’t appreciate that my best friend is hot.

“What’s up Hailey? Jeff seemed concerned. Are you okay?” He rattled off quickly.

“I’m good Monty. Actually, I’m better than good. I’m great. You’ll never guess what happened?” I sang, beginning to bounce on my heels. He watched me with an amused expression.

“Your parents bought you a new used Civic?” He asked, jokingly. I made a face and rolled my eyes.

“No you goof. Dillion asked me out.” I exclaimed excitedly. He smiled and laughed at my overly excited demeanor.

“That’s great. Need me to come over after practice? It’ll probably get cut short because of the rain.” He offered.

“Sure. He’s not picking me up until 7 so you’ll have time.” He nodded and before he could say anything, Bryce stuck his head out the door.

“Hate to break up the love fest or whatever this is, but we have to go practice Monty.”

“I’m coming. Just a second. I’ll text you when we are done and head over.” Monty said before leaning down and giving me a tight hug.

Monty was right. Practice ended at 4:15, a mere forty-five minutes after it began, so he was currently watching me pull out every item of clothing in my closet. “This one?” I asked, holding up a red sweater. He thought for a moment before shaking his head.  I shook my head and groaned, “I have nothing to wear.” I sank down on the bed beside him and covered my face “I should just cancel. You’ve said no to everything and I can’t very well go naked, can I?”

He chuckled and muttered “I mean, you could. I don’t think Dillion will complain.” I gasped scandalously, grabbed my pillow, and whacked him playfully with it. “Hey! Violence!”

“Oh please. You’re going to tell me about how violence is bad? Coach said if you screw up your full ride hand in another fight, he will skin you.”

Monty laughed heartily and tapped my knee a few times, “okay fine. Come on, get up. We need to find you some clothes to wear Missy.” I groaned again and went back to my closet. “What about that shirt with the flowers and girly shit on it? That’s cute.” I considered it for a moment before shrugging the suggested top on. I turned around and showed him and he gave me a quick thumbs up. Knowing that he isn’t exactly the most fashion forward person known to man-he wears a different variation of the same shirt everyday- I grabbed a pair of 501’s and pulled them on.

As I tackled my hair and makeup, Monty and I caught up for a while. We had both been busy with school and our own activities, so this was the most uninterrupted time we had alone together recently. “So, any big plans for the evening?” I asked casually.

“Not really. Dad is out of town visiting family or whatever, so I’ll probably just have a chill night at home with my mom. She’s trying some new chicken thing tonight, so hopefully I don’t get sick. Remember the slow cooker ‘pork’?”

“You mean the pulled mush? Of course I remember. I still can’t eat pork chops.”

Monty barked out a laugh and shuddered. The sound of a car pulling in the driveway pulled us from our revere. “Oh crap. He’s here. Montgomery, what do I do?”

“Relax. It’ll be fine. Grab a jacket and I’ll go with you to answer the door.”

I took a deep breath and went with Monty to answer the door. He stood next to me, suspiciously close behind me. Dillion knocked a few raps before I opened it. He looked me up and down, taking me in, and smiled smoothly, “Hey Hailey. You look very pretty tonight.” He looked to Monty and his smile faltered for a brief second, “de la Cruz.”

“Sanders.” Monty replied, more coolly than I expected him to.

Finally finding my voice after taking in his blue Billy Reid Henley and tailored jeans, I replied shakily. “Hey Dillion. Thanks, you look good too. You ready?” Thanks? Really? Get it together.

“I’m ready if you are.” He replied, helping me into my coat.

I blushed slightly but caught Monty roll his eyes. What crawled up his ass? Turning to him I addressed Monty and gave him a quick hug, “Feel free to stay as long as you want. Just make sure you set the alarm before you go. I’ll call you tonight.”

In the shiny black BMW on the way to Rosie’s, Dillion was a perfect gentleman. He let me pick the music and we chatted casually, more of his attention understandably on the road than on me. That would be a hell of a first date. When we arrived, he opened my door and helped me out of the car. He even gave me his arm as we walked in. This is great.

When we were seated, things started to change. In the car, his divided attention could be explained away with driving. When sitting across from each other at dinner on the other hand, it was a little harder to explain. He was polite to the waitress at the door at least. When we sat down there was a period of awkward silence. The people around us chatted freely while we just sat. Dillion plucked a piece of thread from his sleeve and I inspected the hem of my top. Finally, the waitress arrived. “Good evening, my name’s Riley, what can I get for you?”

“A chocolate-“

“A cherry-“ we started together.

“Sorry. You first.” Dillion acquiesced with a wave of his hand, as though he was doing me a favour. I smiled at him before ordering.

“May I get a cherry chocolate shake please?”

“Sure thing. Yourself?” Riley replied, marking my order on her well used notepad.

“May I get a chocolate shake please Riley?” Dillion asked, giving her a flirty smirk. Seriously? I’m sitting right here. I pretended not to notice and after another moment or two we were able to start a conversation of sorts.

“So Hailey, you’re quite a hard girl to track down. It took me weeks to track you down in our little town to ask you out.” Dillion started suavely.

I blushed before deciding to play coy, “I’m a busy girl Dillion, lots going on, you know?”

“Yeah, I noticed.” He chuckled. “Most of my issue was getting you away from your friends, so I could ask you privately.”

“Well, you could of asked to talk privately. They wouldn’t have minded.” I was growing confused and concerned with his comments.

“Your bodyguard would have been okay with it?” He asked before muttering under his breath, “sure.”

I was taken aback by his comment about Monty but after considering it for a moment, let it slide. If it were me in his place, I probably would be scared shitless too. Before I could think of a response, Riley arrived with our milkshakes. “Here you go guys. What can I getcha?” I motioned to Dillion to order first.

“I’ll get a bacon cheeseburger.”

“And I’ll have a club sandwich with a soup please.”

“Comin’ right up.”

After she left to put our orders in, in an attempt to salvage the conversation, I decided to ask Dillion about himself. “Tell me about yourself? We’ve never really talked about non-school related things.”

He immediately perked up and grinned, “well, where do I start? Oh, I know. My hobbies consist of being awesome and being a badass. To preface, my friends and I are idiots when we get together.” I felt my eyes widen slightly before smoothing my face. “This one night, Marshall, a few of our buddies, and I ‘borrowed’ his dad’s truck and took it for a spin in Mr. Johnston’s field.”

“Oh, coo-” I started.

“He has no cameras. Probably not the smartest idea on his part. Anyway, Jacob-he goes to Hillcrest, private school boy- cracked a beer in the box as Marshall had the brilliant idea to floor it. Beer went everywhere. All over Jacob, the back window, the box, and the field. I opened my beer before getting in the truck.”

“Ah, of course.” I nodded along, trying to fain interest.

“A few beers in, we decided to switch drivers. I took charge and did a few doughnuts, no big deal. By the end of the night the field was messed up. Would show you pictures, but we weren’t dumb enough to take them. Not illegal if you don’t get caught, am I right?”

“I-I guess?”

“I’m right. But enough about me, how was the bio test last week?”

“It was okay, some of the questions were dumb. The vitamin K question gave me some trouble.”

“Oh yeah, totally. I barely got a C- on it. How’d you do?” he bragged, as though it was an accomplishment. Fuck this guy is annoying.

I blinked before answering dryly, “I got an A- that had to be adjusted to an A because the scantron machine screwed up.” Dillion blinked at me clearly at a loss for words and thankfully, Riley came with our food. Bless her and her timing.

We ate our food quietly, or at least, more quietly than before. Dillion was still regaling me with stories of his shenanigans and ‘not illegal because we didn’t get caught’ antics with his friends. I was counting down the bites until I would be done my sandwich and we could leave. After we had finished and gotten the bill, he pulled out his wallet before I had time to even think about grabbing my purse. Huh. He’s paying without discussion. Maybe he’s trying to make up for talking my ear off. He offered me his hand to help me up and, after helping me into my jacket again, held it as we walked back to the car. Maybe he’s just awkward on dates. Maybe I’m judging him too harshly.

The ride back to my place was quiet, thankfully. I tried to keep a smile on my face, even though I wanted to do nothing more than make my feelings known. Just have to get to the house. Then I can be done with this. Drama class is coming in really handy now. As we pulled up to my house and parked, Dillion cut the engine and undid his seatbelt. I plastered a big smile on my face and once again, tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. At least he’s walking me to the door. That’s a plus, right? He came around and opened my door for me, pulling me from my thoughts. Taking my hand, he led me to the door and we stood on the step for a moment looking into each other’s eyes. He is very pretty. “I had a really great time tonight Hailey.” Dillion said. He brushed a strand of hair that fell back behind my ear. “And I know I said it already, but you look beautiful tonight.”

My eyes softened as I again, thought of how sweet and charming he could be. My smile became less forced and I relaxed. I didn’t want to lie to him, so I just nodded, playing it off as being shy. Under the soft light of my front porch and the spotlight of the full moon, he leaned in slightly. I let out a quiet breath when his hand fell naturally on my hip, to pull me closer. This is it. He’s going to kiss me. He closed his eyes and I closed mine. My hands rested comfortably on his shoulders and I felt his lips touch mine and it felt… wet. Not ‘used a gel lip balm wet’. Not ‘just had a drink and there’s liquid left on my lips’ wet. It was saliva. Oh. My. God. He pulled me closer still and I could swear I felt… god no. teeth. This is terrible. Trying not to pull away too quickly, I managed to smoothly detach myself from him. I cleared my throat and tried to make it look like I was catching my breath. “W-wow.” I stuttered. I stepped away and tried to keep my expression relaxed. I turned and backed against the door, reaching for the handle. Dillion smiled at me again before checking his watch.

“It’s getting late, I should probably head home. I had fun tonight.”

“Uh, yeah. Me too. Drive safe. See you at school.” I said, blinking a few times to confirm I was in fact, awake and this wasn’t some alternate universe or nightmare.

I turned to unlock the door and he was driving away before I was even had my key in the lock. Leaning back against the door I tried to catch my breath and digest what a disaster tonight had turned into. I grabbed a blanket and curled up on the couch to call Montgomery. He picked up on the second ring. “Hey Hales. How’d it go?”

“Uuuuuggggghhhhhh.” I groaned in response.

“That bad? What happened?” his voice took on a concerned tone.

“Where do I begin? Let’s see. The drive over was nice. But when we got to the restaurant everything changed. He was polite to the waitress which is good. But he just… talked the whole time. About himself. I barely got a word in edgewise. And he was so arrogant.”

“Ouch, that bites. I’m sorry Hailey.”

“That’s not even the worst part. There’s more. So, he was an arrogant prick at dinner and I think I said a total of twenty words the whole time. When we got back to my place, he walked me to the door.”

“As he should have.” Monty interjected.

“I mean yes. It was what happened after we got to the door that’s the problem.”

“I’m listening.”

“He kissed me.” I groaned.

“Did you want him to kiss you?” His voice had an edge to it I didn’t like.

“Yeah I guess? I really didn’t think that it could be that bad. It’s not like he kissed me when I told him no or anything, so chill.”

“Oh. Well that’s good. How bad could it have been Hales?”

“He’s a bad kisser.”

“Define bad exactly?”

“It was wet Monty. To be more specific it felt wet, sloppy, and when he pulled me closer, toothy. And it’s not like he has an overbite and can’t help the teeth, at least then you can’t really blame the guy.” I heard Monty stifle a laugh on the other end of the line. “Go ahead, you can laugh.” He burst out laughing and I couldn’t help but laugh along.

“I-I’m so-sorry. I shouldn’t-” he choked out between laughs. Pausing to catch his breath he continued, “I shouldn’t laugh. That’s really not good.”

“Not good? Monty its bad. Worse than just bad. It’s very bad.”

Monty sighed after another moment. “I’m sorry you had such a shit date. Your mom still in Vermont?”

“Yeah, she’ll be back Saturday. Why?”

“I tell you what. I’ll come over and try to make up for the horrible evening you had to endure. I’m free the rest of the night so I can stay over. You, me, popcorn, two-liter Dr. Pepper, and a movie. You in?”

“Throw in Mike & Ikes and Hot Tamales and you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll make the popcorn this time though. I for one don’t like snacking on charcoal.”

Monty chuckled, “It was ONE time. You drive a hard bargain but sure. You’re still not a fuckin’ child though.”

“Yeah yeah, you love me. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“You know it.” He said and I could hear the smile in his voice before he hung up.

I knew he would have to stop at Blue Spot for the Dr. Pepper at this time of night so I could hold off on the popcorn for now. I decided to get out of the uncomfortable clothes I wore on my date and put on something more homely. I quickly changed into one of Monty’s old gym shirts I stole from his drawer and a pair of bike shorts. The shirt was so big on me it hit me mid-thigh. I took off my makeup and brushed my hair out before heading down to put the popcorn on the stove and pick out a movie.

I was just taking the popcorn off the burner when Monty knocked on the door. “One second!” I called. I ran to open the door and Monty stood with his arms full. He looked alluring in the moonlight. The light pulling the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes out. I welcomed him inside and he placed our various snacks and drinks on the coffee table while I grabbed the popcorn. When I reached for the bowl, his shirt rode up and I felt his eyes on my ass. Oh boys. “Enjoying the view?” I flirted playfully. He coughed, caught off guard by my comment and tried to recover.

“Nah, I’m admiring my shirt. I wondered where it disappeared to. Looks good on you though.” he flirted back.

“Uh-huh. Here, come get the butter and cups. I’ve got the popcorn.” I sauntered back to the couch and pulled the blanket over my legs. Monty took his usual spot beside me and I cuddled close to him as I got comfortable. Holding the popcorn in my lap, I grabbed the remote and hit play on Christopher Robin. We settled in for a quiet evening.

By the time we got halfway through the movie, the pop had been half finished, the candy was more on the floor and couch than in our mouths, and the popcorn had been long forgotten. I had spent most of the movie thinking about the failure of the date I had and watching Monty’s facial expressions at the film, even though we had seen it many times before. I thought about feelings I had either ignored or pushed away and about comments the two of us had shared that could be construed as something more than simply two friends joking around. I sat up suddenly, startling Monty slightly.

“Hey Monty?” I asked shyly.

“Yeah Hailey?” he asked, still mostly focused on the movie.

“Do… is… what’s happening here?”

“Uh… we are watching a movie?” His attention turning to me.

“No. Well, technically yes. But that’s not what I mean.”

“I’m not following.”

I sighed, grabbed the remote and pressed pause, and continued even though every fibre of my being was telling me not to, that I had to be reading everything wrong. “It’s just, when I told you about Dillion at school you seemed really detached. And you said no to literally every option when I was asking about clothes. It wasn’t until I looked upset about cancelling that you made a suggestion. And then when he picked me up, you were really quiet and cold towards him. And I get that the date was a literal burning shit pile, but you seemed almost… glad that it went badly. Like you were happy we wouldn’t be going on another date.”

“I… uh.” He was at a loss for words.

“I’ve heard Scott and Jeff talk. I’ve heard the other guys comment on stuff we say to each other. I just...” I was being to lose my nerve. “Actually you know what? Just... just forget it. Forget I said anything. I’m going to go get a glass of water.” I stood up and started to walk to the kitchen. I could hear Monty stand up and walk towards me but I refused to turn around. I felt his hand grab my arm gently and turn me around.

“Hailey.”

“Hmm?” I still couldn’t look at him.

“You’re right.”

“I’m right? About what?”

“I was happy your date went bad. Not that you were upset or that you didn’t enjoy yourself. I was happy that there wouldn’t be a second date. That I wouldn’t have to...”

“Have to what? Share me?” I turned to look at him now. “I wouldn’t stop being your friend if I had a boyfriend Monty.”

“Well I would hope not. Who else would keep me in check Hales? Scotty could try but it’s not like he could hold me back. And he doesn’t seem like type to hug another dude unless someone died or some shit. And Bryce, well who knows what he’d do.” He paused to take a breath, as though he was gathering some of that tiger courage the boys always talk about. “But that’s not the point. I don’t want to have to watch you be with someone else. Someone who isn’t....”

“Isn’t what Montgomery?” I asked, not daring to breathe too much. This couldn’t be real. I have to have fallen asleep. He looked at me and all the things I had ignored or pushed away came to the forefront of my mind. The way the dim kitchen light illuminated his face and caught the freckles faintly scattered across his face, made him look almost angelic. He’s going to kiss me.

“Someone that isn’t me.” He said before he pulled me in, placed his hand on my hip, leaned in, and kissed me in one quick smooth motion. For the second time that night, my hands found themselves resting against firm shoulders, more confidently this time. This time though, it wasn’t wet, or sloppy, and there were no teeth. When he pulled me closer, he ran his tongue along my bottom lip, asking permission for entrance. When I granted it, he wrapped his strong arms around my waist and lifted me onto the counter so I could wrap my arms around his neck more easily. When we pulled away, I smiled and then I had a thought. “So…”

“Yes?”

“Does this mean I get to keep the shirt?” I asked cheekily.

Monty laughed wholeheartedly. “Yeah, yeah I guess it does. I was serious, it looks better on you than me.” He helped me down and we walked back to the couch holding hands.

[shambali-sinner]

Night Shift

A little hurt/comfort Zenyatta fluff piece that came to me and flew out of my fingers. Very self-indulgent, based very loosely on my real life. SFW and gender-neutral so enjoy!

--------------------

You sighed, exhausted, leaning back against the driver’s seat of your car. You cut the engine and cover your face with your hands, listening softly to the radio still playing for a few moments more.

How could you have done that? How could you have been so—

You shake the thoughts off and rub your eyes, letting your hands fall down your face and taking a deep breath before opening the door to get out. You take the stairs up to your flat two at a time, fueled by the nervous energy of anxiety. You take another deep, shaky breath as you insert your key and unlock the door.

Your partner would understand. He was the most understanding being on the planet. He—

The first thing you notice is the smell. Pancakes. And sausage. And freshly squeezed oranges. Curious, you tiptoe to the kitchen where the sight before you could have been a circus.

Tekhartha Zenyatta was at the stove, wearing your favorite apron, four of his extra arms illuminating the room, engaged in tasks. Two were washing dishes and two were cleaning the table. His physical arms tended to a pair of skillets on the stove.

Briefly, his final two ethereal limbs appeared. The first grabbed a serving plate which caught a fresh pancake as he flipped it out of one of the pans. The other grabbed the bowl of batter to start pouring another serving to cook.

Your partner was definitely a sight to behold. You were used to the appearance of his not-all-there arms and his use of them around the house, but never had you seen him so engaged in such a task as preparing a meal. Making the arms materialize took a lot of concentration and focus on his part, and knowing he was putting forth this much effort for you was endearing.

You giggled a little in the back of your throat.

“Good morning, beloved,” the monk hummed, transferring some sausage to the serving plate and flipping the latest flapjack. “I’m making your favorite meal.”

“I noticed,” you replied, almost smiling. Your mouth betrayed you, the memory of what you needed to tell him flashing across your mind. Tension flared in your shoulders.

“Something is upsetting you. I can sense it.” Zenyatta’s voice ground with a calm concern. One by one, his golden arms set down each of the objects they held and vanished. He moved the rest of the freshly-cooked food out of the skillets and turned to face you. He rested a hand on your shoulder. “Let’s go sit down, shall we?”

You went back into the front room and collapsed facedown on the sofa. Your partner hovered beside you and began rubbing circles into your back. He wouldn’t press you to start talking. He’d wait until you were ready.

His deft mechanical fingers found a particularly tight knot between your shoulderblades. He worked on it and as the tension began to bubble away the words flowed freely from your mouth.

“I finally did it. I put in my two weeks at work. I don’t know where we’ll be living in a month but at this point I don’t care.”

“It must have been difficult to inform your supervisor of your decision to terminate your employment,” Zenyatta prompted.

“It was the most stressful thing I’ve done in months! I know she’s loved having me as a worker and I don’t know how she’ll keep going without me, but I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“No, you couldn’t,” he agreed, kneading your shoulders. “Working all night has been putting such a strain on your physical and mental health. I’ve been concerned for your wellbeing.”

You nodded, sighing softly and closing your eyes as the physical stress dissolved from your body. “You’ve always taught me I have to take care of myself first. That advice has really helped. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’d still be you,” he assured, patting your back softly. “But much less at peace with yourself.”

“Tranquility.” You softly echoed his mantra.

“Do not yet worry yourself about our finances. Our path will become clear without the negative energy that job has brought you.”

“Okay,” you murmured, snuggling into the couch’s cushions.

“If you’re ready to eat, the food should still be hot,” Zenyatta suggested gently.

“Yes, please,” you hummed.

Your partner helped you into a sitting position, covering you with a blanket and announcing he’d bring the food out to you. He returned with a tray and a full compliment of toppings for the pancakes.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

He sat down beside you on the couch. “Of course, beloved.” He reached over and gently stroked your hair as you began eating. “Is this okay?” he asked.

You moaned your approval, mouth full of fluffy pancake and sticky syrup. Upon swallowing, you paused. “You’re too good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“It is unwise to dwell on such thoughts,” the monk replied. “Ideas of ‘deserving’ a partner lead to feelings of insecurity and inferiority, leads to no longer considering a relationship an equal partnership.” You nodded and took another bite. “Besides, there are many time I do not feel worthy of your partnership.”

You almost choked in surprise. “What?”

“There are many in this world who are unkind to omnics. Disdain and violence towards my kind especially run rampant in areas like Western Europe and Latin America. There are places I cannot go at all without suffering almost certain death, where battle against my kind still rages.

“But here, with you, I find peace. You treat me no differently than any other person. More than this, you love me like any other person. And for that, I am constantly grateful.”

You had set down your utensils and he picked up your hand. “I would do anything to return just a fraction of that peace and love to you.”

“Zenyatta,” you sniffed, smiling. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing at all. Just take care of yourself for now. Eat, then bathe, then get some restful sleep. You’ve earned it.”

You chuckled and he brushed a tear from your cheek. He truly was the best thing that ever happened to you.

[mew-mew-mothertrucker]

Cold Storms Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Word count - 3230 TW - swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of abuse Sorry, this has taken so long. I’ve been in a creative block recently. Summary - Parent-teacher conferences go wrong

Tag list (sorry if i missed anyone ahhhh) @minamishipist @theprotectedpuff @preyed-llama @theawesomemaple @migraine-marathon @sombraplayslazertag @nightmarejasmine @missa-fawn @pr0bablypr0crstinating @ccecode @toomuchstuffnotenoughcreativity @fandoms-n-ship  @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @deaf-girl-of-pismobeach

A few weeks of school had passed. Virgil had slowly become friends with Patton from the kind boy’s kindness. Roman still hated him, and Logan seemed to lean to like Virgil because he actually did all of the work, including homework. Virgil was surprisingly doing well at the entirety of the class, and it was the end of the first quarter, meaning fall break. He had a report card that needed to be shown and signed so that the school knew his father knew how well he was doing in class. He held onto the sweatshirt that Mr. Sanders’s friends had sewn up. Virgil had sen the signature of Talyn and Joan on the back in white stitching. He smiled at it anytime he saw it and knew that Mr. Sanders’s friends cared. He put the report cards with the lowest grade being a B and looked up as Mr. Sanders began to write on the board.

“Okay class, we have parent-teacher conferences. I have contacted all of your parents and arranged a schedule, so please write down when you and your parent or parents will be coming in.” Mr. Sanders began to write and Virgil saw that the time for him and his father to go in was in between Patton’s and Andy’s. He smiled and wrote down “Wednesday 10:15” on his paper so that he could remind his father. The bell rang and he waited for Andy and the two began walking.

“You nervous to have half a week off of school?” Virgil asked, seeing how Andy’s fingers kept on tapping on his backpack.

“More nervous about Mr. S seeing my parents. Plus I’m gonna see Chris after mine. And I’m afraid he won’t want to be my friend after seeing my mom…”

“It will be okay, Andy,” Virgil said, giving a reassuring pat to the other boy on the back. Andy gave a small half-smile to Virgil and the two continued on, talking about the homework that Virgil had already completed most of. Virgil waved away as he walked up to his door and walked into the house to see that his father wasn’t home.

He decided to clean up the living room, knowing that otherwise, it wouldn't get clean. He took the empty bottles and they them in the trash, put the still full bottles on the kitchen counter, cleaned up mysterious stains and vacuumed the carpet. After taking out the trash and cleaning the plates and glasses that were in the living room, it had turned to night.

Virgil turned on lights and began to work on his homework, completing the packet that was supposed to last a week, probably getting a few things wrong, but he knew that he wouldn't get any help from his father. He made sure to leave the paper he had written the time of the meeting tomorrow morning.

He sighed as the clock turned to 9 and his father still wasn't home. He went to his almost bare bedroom, deciding to sleep in the hoodie he had gotten from the nurse’s office weeks before. He zipped up the hoodie and grabbed his cat, hugging too close to his body as he went to the bare bed. Using his arms as pillows, he fell asleep.

Virgil was standing in his old house, looking at the room he once lived it. It was nice, a bed that was the perfect softness, purple paintings on the wall of cats and rabbits bouncing around. A plaid purple quilt was on his bed, covering the pillows and purple bed sheets. On the bed was a black cat toy with a purple ribbon around the neck, a tag with “from mom” on it in purple. Virgil walked into the room and picked up the cat toy, holding it close.

He closed his eyes and opened them, only to find himself not in his room but inside his father’s truck, parked outside of a warehouse. He could see his mom and dad through the front window and saw his father holding a large brown briefcase and yelling at his mother. His mother screamed back and pointed to Virgil.

A man who Virgil didn’t know came out of the warehouse with large storage bags, containing several different things. One of the bags had something that was faded green and in odd spherical clumps. The second had what looked to be a lot of clear rocks. The third had waxy looking white clumps. Virgil watched as the man walked up to his father, handed him the bags, and glared at his mother. His mother huffed and walked to the car and sat in the front seat. She turned to look at Virgil.

“Baby, if you had to choose between Mommy and Daddy, you would choose me, right?” She said, her voice soft as she looked at him with dark blue, almost purple, eyes.

“Yeah, Mommy! Why?” Virgil said, holding his cat closer.

She sighed and looked over to his father, who was talking to the man, nodding and then handing over the briefcase he had been holding. “I’m not sure if we can all stay together if your father keeps on doing this to us, baby,” She said, pushing back her dark hair and closing her eyes to think.

Virgil watched as more guys came out and started talking to his father. His mother seemed worried and looked back at him. She got out of the truck and closed the door, moving to go in front of the truck to get into the driver’s seat. The men started yelling and one pulled out something black. Virgil watched as he held it up and-

“Virgil! Wake up! You have to come with me to this stupid thing for your school.”

Virgil woke up, blinking back tears that were brought on from the nightmare that was also a flashback. He looked at his father, who was walking out of his room. He got up and followed his father to the living room.

“SO what does this teacher know?”

“I-I told him I lived with you and mom disappeared”

“Good job kid. Why don’t we go get some flapjacks before we have to go see your teacher?”

Virgil looked at the clock. *. THey had 2 hours. He nodded, watching his Dad as the man walked around in a good mood. Virgil was scared but relaxed slightly when his father patted him on the back. Nothing hard, just a soft pat, like he’d seen other fathers do before school on the first day. He followed his father to the large black truck and got in the back seat, putting on his seatbelt and not questioning what the waxy looking cream colored blocks in bags in the seat next to him or what the nasty smell in the car was. They pulled up to an IHOP and got a booth seat, Virgil looking at the menu and eyeing chocolate pancakes with strawberries when his father got up.

“If a waiter or waitress comes around, tell them I want a coffee and a stack of pancakes with bacon, I need to go do something.” He said, getting up and walking out to the truck. A teenage waitress came around.

“Hiya buddy, did your Dad tell you what to order for him?”

“A coffee and pancakes with a side of Bacon.”

“Okay, kiddo and for you?”

“Hot cocoa and a stack of chocolate pancakes with a side of sausage.”

“Okay kiddo, I’ll get that out for you.” She smiled and went to the kitchen, coming back a moment later with his father's coffee and his hot cocoa.

Virgil took a sip and tried to look out to his father, seeing him talking to a guy outside. He opened the truck and the guy moved so that both of them were behind the open car door. Virgil couldn't help but remember that day and decided to focus on something else. He looked around the iHop and saw a familiar face of Paton. His eyes widened and he quickly put his hood on and sank deeper into his seat, looking at the other kid.

Patton was wearing a plain light blue shirt and was smiling. A woman with strawberry blonde hair and a man with dirty blonde hair were sitting across from him and a little boy, who looked to be 4 or 5. The little boy was wearing a yellow shirt and was poking at his food, not really focusing on Patton or their parents. Patton spoke to his parents and, after they nodded, got up and started walking in Virgil's direction. Virgil panicked before realizing he sat near the restrooms. He tried to hide in the booth and willed the waitress to come out and hide him from his classmate. Luck was on his side as the waitress came over with his and his father's meals. She put them down and looked disapprovingly at his father’s spot.

“Your dad sure it taking a while…”

“Yeah, I think he’s just busy talking to people,” Virgil said, seeing that his father was coming back. Virgil watched as the waitress walked away and his father walked in. As his father sat down, Patton came out of the bathroom.

“Virgil?” said the blue-clad boy.

“H-hi Patton,” Virgil said shyly, praying that Patton would just walk away. This time,. However, luck was working against him.

“Are you getting something before your meeting with Mr. Sanders? Aren’t you right after my meeting with him?”

“Y-yeah”

“Oh, and you must be Virgil’s Dad! Hi, I’m Patton!” Patton said, turning to face Virgil's Dad.

“Hello...Patton” Virgil’s Dad said, looking at Virgil with a look of ‘Who is this child and why is he so excited?’ Virgil shrugged and poked at his pancakes.

“Patton sweetie, it’s time to go, we have to go to Daniel's teacher meeting before yours” The woman that had been sitting across from Patton came up.

“Sorry for him, he’s….”

“Mom these aren't strangers! THat's Virgil! The boy I sit next to in class!”

“Oh, well, in that case, my name’s Amanda, and I’ve heard that your son is a very lovely child” SHe smiled at Virgil, who smiled softly and turned back to his food as she walked away, holding Patton’s hand.

“Bye Virgil!” The embodiment of sunshine said as he was pulled away.

“So you have a friend?” Virgil’s Dad asked, looking at him after a few minutes of silent eating.

“I have a few. Patton’s not really close to me.”

“Hm”

Virgil awkwardly poked at his pancakes, finishing them as his father finished his food. Virgil watched as the nice waitress came back over and gave the check to his father. He pulled out some cash and paid to give her a tip. She smiled at Virgil as they walked out before going to her next table. Virgil got into the car, seeing that the bag with the chalky clumps was no longer in the backseat with him. He watched the stores zoom by as his father drove to the school, parking in a parking lot and then they walked up together. There were few chairs outside of Mr. Sanders classroom, some filled with Patton and his father. Virgil sat down, his father choosing to stand next t him. Patton looked over and moved to sit next to Virgil.

“Verge, wanna go play tag? We still have a bit until my meeting!”

Virgil looked at his father, who wasn’t paying attention to him, instead of his phone.

“Let me ask my dad,” He said to Patton before getting up to stand in his father's field of view.

“D-dad?”

“What?” he asked sharply.

“Can I g-go play tag with Patton?”

“Whatever”

He looked at Paton, who grabbed him by the hand and pulled him o the field outside.

“Okay, I’ll be it! I’ll give you a head start by counting to 10!”

Virgil quickly ran away as Patton started counting. He ran to the playground equipment, thinking that he could find a way to slow Patton down. He ran up the stairs and looked at Patton who had stated to run up to Virgil.Virgil ran to the very top, next to a slide and watched as patton foolishly made his way to where there was nowhere to go but to where Virgil was. Virgil flug himself down the slide and bounced up and down with the force and his lack of weight. Virgil laughed as Patton tried to chase after him. The smaller boy went down the slides, but by the time he was at the bottom, Virgil was on the other side of the playground, starting to run onto the field. As they both got onto the field, a conversation was happening inside

Derek watched as his son took off with the shy child. He turned to the child's father, who wasn't really paying attention.

"So, our kids get along pretty well"

"Yeah I guess"

"My name's Derek."

"Louis"

"Say, why don't we-"

"Listen, buddy. I don't want to be all buddy buddy with you. The kid's, quite frankly, a fuck up. I didn't want him and now his mother's gone and I'm left with him. The only reason I keep him around is that he makes sure that the house is clean, okay? So why don't you just back off? This is my kid, not yours. And just because your kid is getting along well with the little rat doesn't mean anything. Soon, he'll tire of him and the idiot will be alone again. I've seen it time and time again."

Derek did not like this man. He felt it rude to interrupt, so when he was done he just looked at him. "You know, I was trying to be civil. I saw you selling who knows what out of your car to the druggies. The only reason I didn't call the police was that I saw you with that kid and when my boy was so happy to see his friend, I thought that maybe you just had no other way, and I could look the other way. But that's not the case. You, sir, are an insult to fathers. So watch your back"

Derek finished as the door opened.

"Okay, have a nice day," Mr. Sanders said as a mother left.

"Okay, which one of you is Patton's father?"

Derek lifted his hand. "THat'd be me, you must be Mr. Sanders, I've heard wonderful things about you!" Derek.

He walked in and they made their way to his desk, with a table in front of it.

"Mr. Sanders, before we start, I feel the need to address a concern You see, That man out there, Louis, the father of Virgil? I fear that he is perhaps abusing the child. He was also selling what I think was crack to some druggies outside of the iHop this morning. Now, I know that that is a very big accusation, but I was just in a very heated discussion with him, and he has no concern for the child. So, do you think it is at all possible to call the police to at least have a look at the situation?"

The teacher looked surprised but then thought. He had noticed small, off-putting things. Bruises that would peak from under the boy's trademark hoodie. How thin the boy was, and how he was scared of almost anything. He nodded slowly. "Yes, I'll do that now so that they can at least, I don't know look over Virgil at least. are the children here?"

"Yes, they went off to go play something. Dear Patton took Virgil off to have some fun."

Mr. Sanders nodded and walked over to the phone. He started talking softly, due to the phone being close to the door.

Virgil had been tagged. He chased after Patton, seeing that the other boy was going to try and sidestep from the way he kept on looking to the side. As soon as he did it, Virgil was already there.

"Tag! You're it!'

The last word faded off as police cars, with sirens blaring came to the school. Patton looked a the cars. "Huh, I wonder what going-"

Virgil was back at the scene. Blood. There was blood everywhere. The metallic scent filled his nostrils as he cried. His mother's white shirt was quickly turning red, dark in the center. He walked over to her, only to be shoved aside by his father. "Melissa? Sweetie, come here" Virgil watched as his father pulled his mother to him, her body limply falling. Virgil felt bile rise up in his throat-

"Virgil? Are you okay Dad! COmer here! Virgil fainted I think!"

Virgil opened his eyes to see Patton's face over his, calling out to someone far away. He slowly tried to sit up and felt his behind and back. They hurt in a way that Patton Virgil has never known. He slowly sat up and Patton's father same overlooking at Virgil.

"Are you okay kiddo?" H asked, helping Virgil up. Virgil nodded. "Y-yeah I just don't like police cars..."

He trailed off as he saw his father running out to them.

"You son of a bitch! Get over here you fucking piece of shit!" Following him were some cops, one of them with a bruise that was forming as he chases after Virgil's father. Virgil backed up, seeing his father more angry than ever before. He stumbled but stayed up as the man came up to Patton's dad, who had moved quickly in front of the kid.

"Patton, go take Virgil somewhere safe now" Patton looked confused but nodded and turned to Virgil, who was already shaking. Patton grabbed him and pulled him into the forest that surrounded the school. Virgil kept looking back and saw the police officers come up to his father and try to handcuff him, but then Patton pulled him behind a tree.

"Virge...are...are you okay?" Patton said.

"Y-yeah, I'm alright," Virgil said.

"I would look at your back, you fell down pretty hard."

Virgil nodded, not thinking. He took off his hoodie and Patton gasped. Bruises were covering Virgil's arm and neck. Virgil paid no mind and turned around, lifting up his shirt.

"Is it too bad?" He asked.

"You're bleeding a lot" Patton looked from behind the tree.

"Dad! Come here, I think you need to see this!"

Virgil was confused. See what? Oh, right. Patton said he had started bleeding.

Derek walked over to where his son was and gasped. Across Virgil's back, we're lashes, much like the types that were pictured on slaves in early colonial days. Bruises were all over his body, and some of the lashes were bleeding.

'Virgil, kiddo, can you put your shirt down and grab your hoodie and come with me?"

"Why? WHat's happening to my dad?"

"You're Dad...he's going to not be able to hurt you anymore. I promise you. How about you come with me and we can take you out to some ice cream and talk to the police officers so that your father can't do this to you anymore?"

Virgil turned to that, looking slightly hopeful.

"He's...not gonna hurt me anymore?"

"I'll make sure of it. Now c'mon, we gotta talk to the officers!"

Virgil nodded and grabbed his hoodie, putting it back on.

[sevralships]

“Reunion”

(Shoutout to @handleonthescandal for conceptualizing fem!dippin’, an AU where the Pines triplets consist of Fem!Dip, Mabel, and Tyrone. When I recently had the good fortune to spend some time with @dddippinsauce and @equilateral-asshat outside of cyberspace, it was hard to keep the dynamic far from our minds. This fic is dedicated to the two of them ‘cause they’re the bestest chicken nuggets around).

It’s been nearly ten years since the Pines triplets were all together in Gravity Falls for any length of time. They are finally all together, for only a weekend, and Mabel finds herself tempted to pick up right where they left off. Angst, fluff, smut. TW incest. Fem!Dippin Pinecest. NSFW. 11,200 words (ooh what a nice round number!)

Fic below cut, enjoy!

Reunion

Mabel took a break from shoveling bites of syrup-soaked pancake into her mouth to get another look at Dip and Ty. It’d been much too long since they’d all been together like this to let the moment go uncherished, and besides, it was probably wise to give herself a chance to actually chew her food. Next to her, Dipper was happily having a sip of tea, her hands curled gratefully around the warmth of the mug. Mabel had always loved catching Dip in little moments of serenity like this one, serenity being something her high-strung sis too seldom found. Mabel chewed her mouthful of pancakes thoughtfully and looked across the table at Ty. He held a slice of turkey bacon at the ready (having long since agreed to her insistence that they all give up pork as a courtesy to Waddles), his own plate of pancakes mostly emptied. Mabel wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Ty looking at her already, his grateful expression a mirror of her own happiness in sharing such a simple pleasure with her favorite trips.

“Ah!” Dipper gave a small, slightly dramatized sigh of satisfaction as she set down her mug, and Mabel watched Ty’s gaze slide lovingly to their sister. His already sentimental expression gave way to a small goofy smile, “What?” she challenged, her lips curling into a half-smile.

Ty’s smile widened and Mabel’s heart lifted as it always did when Ty smiled that way, “It just feels really great to be home.” He said simply, gesturing to the interior of Greasy’s Diner with the piece of turkey bacon before popping it into his mouth. Glancing around the diner, Mabel couldn’t help but agree. Not a thing had changed in here in the last… was it really going on ten years? The world outside kept changing and demanding different things of them, but Gravity Falls remained eerily and comfortingly the same.

Dip lifted her mug of tea, “Hear, hear!” Mabel lifted her hot cocoa in agreement.

“What the hey does Lazy Susan do to make these pancakes so good?” Mabel asked around another bite, as if the question had not been posed between the three of them thousands of times over the years.

“I’m telling you,” Dip said with a conspiratorial look, “Blood magic. It’s the only force powerful enough to explain this.”

Ty snorted, “You will carry that theory to your grave, won’t you, Dip? I’m telling you,” he said, as he had many times, “She fries them in bacon fat instead of butter.”

“Nooo,” Mabel complained stubbornly, covering her ears with her hands, “It can’t be pork fat, I already gave up bacon, don’t take pancakes from me too!”

“How else would you explain these deliciously crisp edges?” Ty asked, holding up a corner of pancake speared on his fork.

“Blood magic,” Dip replied without missing a beat, “No bacon fat alone could produce such a sinfully tasty pancake.”

Ty snickered, popping the bite of crispy pancake edge into his mouth, “Whether it’s blood magic or bacon fat, I just hope she keeps doing what she’s doing.” He closed his eyes, making a show of reveling in the taste of the pancake, “I don’t want to live in a world without these freaking pancakes.”

“I take it they don’t have pancakes like this outside Gravity Falls?” Dipper said conversationally, already knowing the answer.

“Heck no,” Mabel said, “In Florida most people call them flapjacks and they’re tasty enough but they’re nowhere near ‘sinful’.” There were some things Mabel liked about living in the Sunshine State, not least of all the animals she worked with at a zoo there, but there was no getting used to some of it. She quite liked the word ‘flapjacks’, but they didn’t taste like home.

“The pancakes at the Griddle Houses near me are passable at best,” Ty agreed, the look in his eye implying that he was running through every pancake he’d had since moving to New York, “I don’t think blood magic fits into the franchise policy.”

Dip cupped a hand to her ear, “Do I hear some doubt in your long-held bacon grease theory?”

“Not even a little,” Ty scoffed, “But it’d take more than bacon fat to kick a Griddle House pancake up to Lazy Susan quality.”

Dipper shrugged concedingly and the triplets fell back into a comfortable silence, as they tucked into what remained of their breakfast-for-dinner. Mabel and Ty had both arrived, from Florida and New York respectively, in the mid-afternoon, hungry from traveling and craving the comfort food of their youth. Mabel and Ty each eagerly cleaned their plates, leaving barely a drop of maple syrup behind, but Dipper asked for a take-away box for about half of what she’d ordered. Of course, Dipper could have Greasy’s signature pancakes whenever she wanted, unlike her sibs, having ended up living in Gravity Falls full time.

Not that it came as any surprise that she was the one to wind up here. On the contrary, Mabel thought it would have been stranger to imagine Dipper settling anywhere else. While Mabel and Ty’s respective goals had carried them far and away from the comfort of Gravity Falls and Piedmont, Dipper’s path towards investigating the supernatural had rarely wavered. Mabel had always admired Dipper’s surety and dedication to this one goal, her own wide range of interests and skills leading her down one dead end after another before she had landed on animal care. Ty had struggled similarly with artistic and career attempts, too many of which had been flops. Mabel’s heart gave a twinge, sympathizing with her brother’s rocky path and the deep self-doubt that went with it. Not that Dipper had been dealt an easy hand by any means. It was almost as if being a precocious kid guaranteed you for dissatisfying young adulthood, and Dip was no exception. She did, however, at the very least, have the good fortune of living in Gravity Falls.

The damp autumn evening met them with a refreshing gust as they left the cozy, stuffy warmth of the diner, “Autummmnnn!” Mabel sing-songed, with a little twirl on the leaf-strewn sidewalk, and pulled a deep breath of the clean Oregon air through her nose, letting it out in a satisfied sigh, “Ya don’t find air like that in Florida.”

“Isn’t the air in Florida, like, seventy percent swamp?” Ty asked, wrapping an arm around Mabel’s shoulders.

“Eighty percent, bro.” Mabel said, hugging his waist.

“I dunno,” Dip said, holding out a hand to feel the light, cool drizzle, “Oregon’s swampy air levels are at at least a fifty today, maybe we should have taken the car after all.”

“Oh, hogwash, Dipdot!” Mabel exclaimed, giving the bill of Dipper’s cap a playful flick, “You got your handy-dandy hat, a little spritz like this got nothin’ on you!”

And she was right, for most of the walk. There were very few people out on account of the overcast sky and steady drizzle, and the triplets walked along, hand-in-hand, feeling almost as though they’d gone back in time to one of the summers of their childhood. The leaves were halfway turned, the reds and oranges vivid against the still brilliantly white sky. Everything was dewy and glossed from the mist, giving the world a clean, fresh look. As they walked, they reminisced about adventures with their Grunks, forays into the supernatural wilds of the Falls, and Mabel, delighted by the novelty of the season after a few years in the static heat of the south, pointed out signs of autumn all around them. It was when she pointed out the flock of geese, honking and flying in a symmetrical chevron above, that she noticed the sky had darkened considerably from a luminous overcast white to a threatening soot grey. She said nothing to Dipper or Ty, in hopes that ignoring the portentous sky might convince it to let them reach the Shack before the rain. Surprisingly, this tactic failed and a few minutes later the heavy clouds opened up, pouring cold water down in sheets.

Dipper gave a surprised shriek, the same one she’d made when they were kids and one of her mischeivous triplets would slip an ice cube down the back of her shirt. Ty laughed at the sound, and pulling his sisters along by their hands, broke into a run. Home wasn’t far off by that point and the trips ran the rest of the way, clumsy and laughing, until three sets of feet splashed through the muddy puddles of the parking lot and stamped up the two steps into the welcome shelter of the Shack porch. The rain drummed on the wooden awning that shielded them and the triplets panted with the exertion, exchanging amused looks at each other’s bedraggled appearances, all of them drenched to the bone.

Dipper unlocked the door as quickly as she could, and they stumbled inside. Dipper put leftovers in the fridge, wet shoes squelching, whiler Ty and Mabel eagerly kicked off their own soaked shoes and shucked off socks, “Co-oo-ooold!” Mabel whined, wasting no time in peeling off her purple leggings and sequined beige sweater, and kneeling to rummage through her suitcase in search of dry clothes.

“One of the downsides to the whole season thing,” Ty pointed out and something in his tone caught Mabel’s attention as strange. She glanced at him, finding his cheeks pink and his eyes all but glued to her lace-trimmed lilac chevron-printed undies. She forced her eyes back to the jumbled contents of her suitcase, surprised to uncover a long-neglected jumble of thoughts. After all these years of telling herself that all of that business was in the past, she’d somehow neglected to consider that it might be hard for her trips to forget it once in a while. She blindly grabbed a clean pair of leggings and a shirt from her suitcase and scampered into the bathroom to change. After impatiently slipping into the dry clothes, Mabel stared down her reflection, absently trying to make sense of her mass of unruly wet curls and wishing the flush away from her own cheeks.

That wasn’t what you thought it was, she told herself, staring into her own brown eyes in the mirror, It’s just been a long time since you got into your skivvies like that and you did it without warning. You’re reading too much into it, Mabes. Plenty of people would get weird when confronted with their sister’s nearly naked caboose. Ignoring the fluttering of her own heart should be easy enough, she’d been pushing these thoughts aside for a long time now. No way was she going to squander this short, precious visit with Ty and Dipper getting them all tangled in that nonsense again.

After a few more stern words with herself, Mabel emerged from the bathroom to find Dipper making up the futon that now sat in the living room where Grunkle Stan’s yellow chair used to be. The chair now held a place of honor in the cozy reading nook Dipper had made for herself in the basement, festooned in string lights in a way that surely made Grunkle Stan groan every time he was in town. Despite getting on in years, he and Grunkle Ford were still out sailing the seven seas, determined to squeeze as much fraternity and adventure into their twilight years as humanly possible. Mabel was sorry she wouldn’t get to see them while she was in town, but pleased as punch to know her uncles were making the most of their time together.

She walked over to the futon and grabbed the nearest corner of the fitted sheet, tucking it under the mattress while Dipper did the same to the opposite side. Dipper had changed too, her wet hair wound into its customary braid over her shoulder, her wet jeans and hoodie traded for black yoga pants and a slightly oversized Mystery Shack tee shirt, the old green question mark design from before Mabel had helped to re-brand the Shack during her ill-fated attempt to beef up her graphic design resume. Without prompting, Mabel helped Dip to spread out a sheet and the big knitted blanket she’d painstakingly made for her a few years prior, “Getting caught in the rain is nothing a little cuddling can’t fix.” Dipper said, by way of explanation.

“Such wisdom,” Mabel said, fluffing a couple of the pile of pillows Dipper had scrounged up, “We don’t call you the smart one for nothing.”

“P’shaww,” Dip rolled her eyes, climbing under the covers, “Smart one, my ass. I’m just the most anxious and it keeps me motivated, you know that.”

“Anxiety and brilliance are not mutually exclusive, my dude,” Mabel pointed out, fishing the fleecey polka-dot slipper-socks Dip had given her out from under the futon, “You know--”

“FLOP!” Tyrone announced, as he did in fact flop heavily into the middle of the futon beside Dip. She giggled, and Mabel grinned along. There was simply no resisting Ty’s infectiously sweet and silly antics and she was relieved to see no sign that he might have been distressed by their little moment a moment before. Ty wrestled the blankets out from underneath himself, inviting more giggling from his sisters, before finally getting settled. He rested his head on Dip’s shoulder and she gave his tousled wet hair an affectionate kiss, as Mabel climbed into the futon. She already felt warmer, as if the sight of her two favorite people snuggled up and safe could warm her body as well as her heart. Ty wasted no time in looping his arm around Mabel’s waist and pulling her against his side.

As ever, Ty radiated body heat, and Mabel wrapped her arm around him, her fingers lacing with Dip’s, her body nesting into his side as naturally as if it were designed to fit there. In a way maybe it was, she liked to think they’d all been cuddle buddies since before they were even born. She purred happily against him, squeezing Dipper’s cold fingers, and stating contentedly, “Mmmmm, warmssss…”

“Tyrone Pines, Warms Specialist, at your service.” Ty joked, with a little salute.

“You’re the best at what you do, Mr. Pines.” Dipper assured Ty, her voice not quite sardonic enough to disguise that she absolutely meant it as she nuzzled the top of his head.

“I second that.” Mabel said, burrowing her face into the warmth of Ty’s shoulder. She breathed deep and was comforted to find he smelled exactly the same as he always had. The earthy-sweet smell of his skin was heightened by the lingering dampness from the rain and Mabel risked letting herself sink into the smell. Where her arm was hooked over the comforting squish of Ty’s tummy, her hand rested in Dipper’s, as natural as anything, and Dipper’s thumb stroked her knuckles in the same pattern it had back then.

Back when they were dumb, silly, hapless kids, their hormones raging and their vocabularies not remotely up to the task of describing the tangle of their feelings. She had made a point of putting it out of her mind as much as she could, but Mabel found she still remembered that summer with a startling clarity. It was like a well-loved movie, nearly memorized, that she could watch in her mind as if it were projected on a screen in front of her. It was the summer after their senior year of high school, when the wind through the trees had seemed to whisper ‘freedom’. The seemingly endless drudgery of K-12 schooling had in fact ended, and there was a giddiness to that alone, that the thing that had governed every day of their lives for so long had been defeated. They had all gotten into different colleges, but their minds were not on the more taxing academics in their future, or the looming day when they’d no longer be sleeping under the same roof. No, that summer had been about fun, plain and simple. Fun in all its forms, cryptid-seeking adventures around the town, getting drunk on the Shack roof, concerts, and parties, and long lazy days in bed together. In retrospect, it had been a last hurrah of their childhood together, but none of them had seen it that way then. They’d been seventeen and invincible and looking for fun around every corner.

The first time one of their drinking sessions on the roof had given way to playfully kissing each other, they had all giggled and blushed at how ludicrous and risque it was. They had acted like it was for the thrill, the taboo of it, and Mabel had not voiced the confusion running wild inside her liquor-soaked head. After that day, things shifted, imperceptibly at first. The triplets had never been shy around each other, but Mabel remembered how suddenly they were seeking excuses to touch, excuses to take off their clothes, excuses to act unlike siblings. She could see in cinematic exactness the way the dappled sun through the trees had illuminated Dipper’s eyes as she’d coyly slipped out of her bathing suit while they were swimming in an isolated little cove in Gravity Falls lake. She could feel as if it were happening that very moment the way Tyrone’s lips had felt on her neck and ear at some party where no one knew they had the same last name.

It had been fun, gloriously fun, and delightfully dangerous. Dangerous in a way that turned her stomach to look back on, petrified at the thought of how reckless and stupid they’d been. And more than anything, it had been fleeting. As the end of summer closed in, they’d tried to talk about it a few times without much success. Mabel remembered trying to tell them she was in love with them multiple times, always chickening out, terrified that what sprang from love in her was no more than teenage abandon in them. Ty had poorly explained something to do with hormones at one point, and Dipper had tried to explain her desire to not be as ruled by her anxiety (something that would soon after prove impossible with her rigorous college workload), but when the time came to ship off to their separate colleges, they said goodbye with a million unspoken explanations hanging between them. And for the first time, they spent their birthday in three different states, further apart than ever in the wake of getting closer than three siblings probably ever should have been.

Mabel realized Ty was snoring, and opened her eyes slowly, as if worried that even opening her eyes might disturb him. At some point, Dipper had scooted down in the bed and was tucked under Ty’s opposite arm and her face was directly in front of Mabel’s. The sun had set but there was still a light on in the kitchen so Mabel could dimly see her siblings’ sleeping features. Dipper’s face was uncharacteristically relaxed, the crease that almost always existed between her eyebrows smoothed away by the reprieve of sleep. She was breathing softly, her lips slightly parted, and for a second, Mabel seriously considered kissing her before reprimanding herself for the thought. Neither Ty nor Dipper had ever mentioned the events of that summer since, and Mabel generally took that as answer enough as to whether they had been motivated by the same feelings of love as she had been. Besides, even if they had been, it didn’t matter. It was a long time ago, and it wasn’t like it was something they could pursue, least of all now from three opposite corners of the continent. Ty stirred slightly in his sleep, his grip on both his sisters tightening, pulling them in closer. Mabel’s heart swelled happily, and she let her eyes fall shut again, nuzzling nearer to her triplets and reminding herself as sleep took hold that this was already more than enough cause to be thankful.

The soft music of the rain pattering on the roof and gurgling in the rain gutters, the occasional rumble of thunder, permeated Mabel’s dreams so that waking up was a slow hazy affair. She was perfectly warm, floating in a soft space that sounded like rain and deep breathing, smelled like peaches and cedar and home. She was vaguely aware of the small happy murmur she made as she wiggled deeper into this foggy happy place. The warmth around her responded with a sleepy sigh, and nestled their bodies closer together. It dawned on her that those were arms around her, that against her shoulder was a chin, and against her back was a chest, and against her backside was--

Well, now she was awake. She blinked a couple times, trying to rid the blurriness of sleep from her eyes. A familiar view of half of the Mystery Shack living room greeted her, her arms curled around Tyrone’s forearm, one hand laced loosely with his. It was hard to tell what time it was, the diffused, pale, rainy day light could have been morning or afternoon. Judging by the slow deep breaths that fell warm across her cheek and ear, Ty was still sound asleep. She couldn’t hear any stirring from the other side of the bed and assumed Dipper was still asleep as well. She’d be perfectly happy to keep on sleeping herself. Just in case she’d imagined the startling presence, Mabel gave her hips a small tentative wiggle, greeted immediately by the now unmistakable feeling of Ty’s morning wood pressed right up against her rear end.

She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks, and, for that matter, between her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself insistently, it’s involuntary! It’s just morning wood, it doesn’t mean anything! She was pretty sure it was normal for a guy to get an erection in the morning like this, especially if he happened to be pressed against a girl’s butt. Much as she told herself that it had nothing to do with her, the familiar ache between her thighs did not waver. Hating herself for it, she moved her hips slightly again, all of her attention focused on the way he felt. He made a soft appreciative rumble that cut to Mabel’s core, simultaneously wetting her panties and filling her tummy with squirming guilt.

Reluctantly, she severed that forbidden point of contact with him, repositioning herself so that she was lying on her back. She rested her right cheek on the pillow to look at him and was surprised when his eyes met hers. His dark, heavy-lidded gaze was like a magnet, soulful and open. He wet his lips as they stared into each other’s eyes and Mabel had the sense she was looking right inside him. There was longing there that nothing could refute, a desire that ran infinitely deeper than an involuntary physical response. Their still-linked hands rested on Mabel’s belly beneath the blankets and Ty’s thumb slowly stroked the thin fabric of her tank top. Mabel’s breath caught at the innocent touch and she saw the corners of Ty’s mouth twitch towards a smirk.

The quiet intensity of the moment was broken as Dipper stirred. She’d apparently been facing away from Ty but rolled over now to wrap her arms around Ty in a sleepy, enthusiastic bear hug. She made a playful ‘eeeh’ as she squeezed him and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Both he and Mabel burst into wide grins, and Ty turned his head to place a kiss on Dipper’s temple that turned into a loud raspberry. Giggles erupted from Dipper as she tried to wriggle away, her hoarse morning voice protesting, “Noo, in a moment of weakness!”

A tangle of tickling and raspberries ensued before the triplets settled down again, giggles quieting as they sank gratefully back into a horizontal group hug. Dipper didn’t sound much like she meant it when she said, “We should prooobably get up.”

“Or,” Mabel suggested, “We could stay right here forev’s.”

“Hm, an interesting proposal,” Ty said, nodding thoughtfully, “Go on.”

“Well, first of all, we already have the bed all warmed up,” she pointed out, lifting one leg slightly to gesture at the blankets, “It would conserve energy to just keep using these warms than to make new warms.”

Dipper laughed, “Not sure that’s what energy conservation is, but you have my attention.”

“So, what I propose is this.” Mabel went on in a mock-formal tone, “As opposed to going out where it is cold and wet, we stay in here, where it is warm and dry.”

“Furthermore,” Ty jumped in, “In here there are cuddles, and TV, and snacks.”

“Sold,” Dipper said decisively, snuggling her face into Tyrone’s neck, bopping his chest lightly as if with a gavel. Mabel’s heart overflowed to see Dipper this relaxed and silly, a side of her she rarely got to see with their relationship dependent on texts and phone calls. Not that any of the triplets maintained walls between them, but there were just some moments you couldn’t quite have over the phone.

After a couple more minutes of snuggling, Ty gave a dramatic sigh, “Alas, I must leave the comforts of bed.”

“But the warms!” Mabel protested, as Ty disentangled himself from his sisters’ limbs.

“Will have to wait till after I’m done peeing.” He said, giving the bed a last longing look before disappearing around the corner and heading upstairs.

Not willing to risk a moment of cuddle deprivation, Mabel and Dipper closed the gap between them that Ty had filled, enclosing each other in a familiar hug. They’d always been close to the same size, and their arms fit around each other with a pleasant symmetry, their leg placement and head placement complementary. Mabel had always found it strange, on the occasions when she had snuggled with people other than Dipper and Ty, how hard it could sometimes be to maneuver. Where it had always seemed like falling effortlessly into place for the triplets, with others it could range anywhere from tangling awkwardly to feeling like you were trying to squash square pegs into round holes. Dipper nestled her head onto Mabel’s shoulder, “I’m so glad you guys are here.”

“Me, too, sis,” Mabel agreed, kissing the top of Dipper’s head before resting her cheek against her hair, “Like Ty said, it’s really good to be home.”

Dipper nodded against Mabel, squeezing her a little, “Well, it feels a lot more like home with you here,” she paused slightly, choosing her words, “Especially since Soos and Melody have been spending so much time in Portland lately, and tourist season is over again… you’d be surprised how lonely the Shack can get.”

Mabel had to admit she’d never really considered it, but she’d never spent any time here alone. For her, the Shack (and Gravity Falls as a whole) had always been such a safe haven. When she was here, she was with her friends, and her Grunkles, and most importantly her triplets, and that had always made it seem like home. In the summer, the place bustled with tourists, Soos’ kids and their playmates always underfoot. But she tried to imagine what it was like for Dipper, here all year long, through the long harsh winters when the Shack was closed and there were no tourists. Through Soos’ family’s ever more frequent visits back to Melody’s family in Portland. Through the summers when reminders of their shared childhood were around every corner, but her siblings themselves were rarely if ever there, “Aw, Dipdot,” Mabel cooed, suddenly feeling guilty for all the times she’d thought to herself that Dipper had the best circumstances of the three of them, “I didn’t know.”

“Oh, I’m okay,” Dipper insisted, eager to make light of her feelings to keep Mabel from worrying, “I love living in Gravity Falls. I just…” she looked up and met Mabel’s eyes and Mabel was startled to feel her heart speed up at the sad longing look in Dipper’s eyes, “I just want to make the most of having you and Ty here.” Just then they heard Ty’s steps thumping down the stairs and he came back into the room, Mabel’s mind off-balance, trying to make sense of the look she’d just seen in her sister’s eyes. It wasn’t altogether unlike the way Ty had looked at her upon waking.

“D’aww,” Ty said as he grabbed Dipper’s laptop and cord where they were lying on the old dinosaur skull that had long served as an end-table, “You two look so warm and comfy,” he flipped up the corner of the covers and joined them, his tone turning mischievous, “Perfect for warming my feets!” Mabel yelped as Ty’s ice-cold feet touched hers, slipping between her knees to nestle in the warm pocket between her legs and Dipper’s.

Dipper plucked her computer from Ty, leaning partway out of the futon bed to plug it in before opening it and pulling up webflix. They didn’t have to say as much, Ty grabbing the laptop had clearly communicated to both of them what he had in mind. There was fairly little discussion before they settled on something to watch and settled into each other’s arms for the afternoon.

Mabel’s thoughts kept straying from the plot of the movie they had on and carding cautiously through the feelings she hadn’t expected to still hang so heavy in her thoughts. It had been so long and so much had happened in the intervening years, she had been sure it wouldn’t be an issue. Sure, it sometimes cropped up in her mind when she was lying in bed trying to sleep, or when she couldn’t find anything to listen to on the radio in the car, but that didn’t mean she still felt it. But now, here she was, sandwiched between them with her feelings running amok. Being with them again, being in the Shack again, it made sense that it wasn’t too far from her mind, but what she really wanted to know was what was happening in their minds. She’d never really found out back then, and she sighed, accepting that she probably wouldn’t now and would just always wonder if the way they had looked at her had just been a trick of the light.

The afternoon slid by, and they said fairly little apart from on and off running commentary on the movies they were watching. Ty’s stomach started to grumble first, with Dipper joining in close behind. When Mabel’s chimed in, enough was enough and Dipper paused the laptop, “Alright, that’s it, it’s time for food.”

It took a good five minutes to tear themselves from the coziness of the bed and Mabel shivered. The Shack was drafty and her tank top wasn’t really warm enough outside of the blankets. As they walked into the kitchen, Ty must have noticed the way she was hugging herself because he draped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, “Warms specialist protects.” he murmured in a sweet, joking tone. She leaned her cheek against his, his stubble tickling slightly as his warmth diffused into her.

In the kitchen, a flurry of food prep began. As usual, Mabel opted to whip up a batch of cookies, settling on snickerdoodles at Ty’s insistence. He was already well along in making some sauce and pasta, while at the opposite counter, Dipper was obsessively arranging a cheese plate, slicing various cheeses and filling small bowls with crackers and olives and anything she found in the fridge and cabinets that seemed suitable. Dipper was softly narrating what she was doing in a silly song, a habit she’d picked up from Grunkle Stan in the periods when he and Ford returned to the Shack between adventures. Ty and Mabel exchanged an amused look as Mabel took another tray of cookies from the oven, listening to the ‘song’ Dipper was singing, “Fillin’ up a plate with cheese, fillin’ up a plate with cheese, want some crackers with that cheeeese? No, sir, I just want the cheese.”

“No, sir, I just want the cheese,” Ty chimed in, bopping his head to the repetitive melody, “No, sir, I just want the cheese.”

“Taking cookies off a sheet,” Mabel added, as she scooped the steaming cookies onto a plate with a plastic spatula, “Have a cookie, if you please.”

Ty’s hand was on the plate at light speed, plucking a cookie from the pile, “All the cookies are for me, all the cookies are for me, all the-- ow! Ow! Hot!” Ty sputtered, upon biting the cookie.

“Oh, no, you okay, bro?” Dipper asked, she and Mabel both darting to his side at once to make sure he was alright.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he waved them off affectionately, blowing on the cookie before taking another bite, “Mmmm, good thing I didn’t burn my tongue too much to taste.”

“Instant karma, you cookie-hoarder.” Mabel said, swatting his shoulder lightly with the spatula.

“No clue what you’re talking about.” Ty said, as Mabel put the last tray of cookie dough in the oven, and he grabbed another cookie from the plate. He gave her a cheeky smile, chewing a big mouthful of cookies as she closed the oven door and turned around. She couldn’t help but grin back at him. Just about no one could match her silliness the way that Ty could.

The triplets managed to carry their three bowls of pasta, towering plate of cookies, and over-burdened tray of cheese back to the futon in one trip, cans of Pitt Cola tucked under their arms. They piled back into bed, tucking the blankets up as high as they could get them to stay, and dove happily into their impromptu feast while resuming the dumb movie they’d been watching. Mabel had been too distracted by her own thoughts to take in most of the first half of the movie, but now that she was playing closer attention, she easily slipped into the rhythm of riffing with Dip and Ty.

Sometime after their food was set aside, apart from the occasional grape or olive from the cheese plate munched on, Ty’s hand slipped into Mabel’s beneath the covers, giving a comforting squeeze. She let her head fall against his shoulder and Dip, noticing the cuddles being initiated, laid her head in Mabel’s lap. Mabel’s free hand stroked Dipper’s hair, about two thirds of which had slipped out of her braid since the previous night. Mabel felt the warm fuzzy feelings her trips always brought out in her begin blossoming in her chest and softly said, “I love you guys so much.”

“We love you too, goober.” Ty said, kissing the top of Mabel’s head.

“We love you so so much.” Dip said, reaching up to give the hand that was petting her hair a squeeze.

It was already nearing sunset and Dipper adjusted her head in Mabel’s lap to gaze out the window as the dim rainy day grew dimmer, “Time’s going too fast,” she observed a little solemnly, “Three days sounded like more when we were planning.”

“Hushh,” Ty said sympathetically, reaching over to take Dip’s hand, “I know.”

“I just don’t want you to go yet,” Dip said, “It’s too soon.”

“We still have tonight, Dipdot,” Mabel reminded, trying to sound more optimistic than she felt. In truth, the deadline was weighing on her mind as well, “And aaaall day tomorrow, and tomorrow night.”

“Even a little bit of Monday morning.” Ty added.

Mabel could feel Dipper’s sad smile against her leg and felt a fierce push to kiss her sadness away, “I know, I shouldn’t be wasting our time together worrying about how we don’t have enough time together.”

“I don’t think we could ever have enough time together.” Ty said wistfully, and his sisters nodded in agreement, “C’mere, we gotta hug it out.” He held out his arms and Dipper crawled up to snuggle against his free shoulder, while Mabel ducked under his arm. They laid their heads against his chest, and as Mabel placed her hand absently on his thigh to pull herself closer, she could swear she heard his heartbeat speed up. She glanced up at him and this time there was no mistaking the pink tinge to his cheeks. Mabel’s attention was drawn away when she heard Dipper sniffle, a sniffle she’d be able to pick out even in a loud crowded place, the sniffle that belied Dipper losing hold of the reins of something that had been bothering her all day. Ty knew the sound as well as she did and immediately cradled Dipper’s head closer to him, tucking his chin atop her head and cooing soothingly, “Oh, honey, no,” he said, gently, “You’re okay. Just let it out.”

“I’m sorry,” Dipper choked, wiping the tears from her cheeks impatiently, “I’m being so stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” Mabel said, reaching across Ty to rub Dip’s shoulder, “It’s totally understandable. We feel the time passing, too.”

“This is such a dumb way for me to make you spend it though!” Dipper insisted, “We should all be cuddling and having a g-good time! Not managing my dumb emotions…”

“‘Scuse you, Dippinsauce,” Mabel said gesturing vaguely to them, “But we are cuddling!”

“And we are having a good time,” Ty said, giving Dipper a squeeze, “How could we have anything but a good time with our favorite sister?”

“Exactomundo,” Mabel nodded decisively, tucking Dipper’s bangs back from her face, “Tyroni’s got it right. I’m just happy that for once I’m actually here to help make you feel better when you’ve got sads.”

Dipper nodded against Tyrone’s chest, before half climbing into his lap to snuggle closer. Mabel wrapped her arms around them both in a group hug, tucking her face against them as Dipper’s tears gradually slowed. She could feel the wetness of Dip’s tears against her, and adjusted her head slightly so that she could kiss her sister’s reddened cheek. It must have surprised her, because her breath caught slightly which made Mabel smile and kiss her again. She stroked Dipper’s hair away from her face and was surprised to feel Ty press his lips tenderly to her own forehead. She gave him an inquisitive look, noting the blush again upon his cheeks, “What was that for?”

“Being such a good sister,” he said, lightly cupping her cheek for a second. She was about to lean into the touch but he removed his hand, “You take good care of us.”

“D’aww, you big softieee,” Mabel teased, a slightly bashful smile on her lips, “We take good care of each other.”

“Just take the compliment, Mabes,” Dip said, bloodshot eyes peering up at her, “I’m grateful for it, too.”

“You guyssss,” Mabel protested, surprised to feel the tears rising in her own eyes so suddenly, “Why do we live so f-far apa-art?”

At the sound of her voice breaking, Ty tugged her close against his chest, “Oh, man, you guys are gonna make me cry. Get over here.” With surprising efficacy, Ty rearranged them, maneuvering them so that they were lying down again, with Mabel in the middle. Dipper wrapped her arms around Mabel’s waist from behind her, while Ty resumed holding her to his chest, where she let herself cry freely. She wondered in the back of her mind whether this was the right moment, the best chance she’d have to tell them how she felt, but it was no use either way as the tears were coming too heavily for her to have spoken about anything. Let them believe I’m just crying about saying goodbye soon, she thought, It’s still true and it’ll save us all a lot of heartache.

After her tears slowed to a stop, she just lay there nestled between them. She would have been content, were it not for the confession hiding under her tongue. After some time, she gave into the weariness and sleep overtook her.

The hand resting on her hip was warm, so warm it was like it was on fire, burning a hole in her clothes. It must have, she reasoned, because now it seemed that it was on her skin, the fingers curling, indulging the hand’s desire to feel more of her. She was unsurprised to find the hand belonged to Ty, facing her in bed, his tousled hair falling across his brow. That look was in his eyes again, the aching softness she’d seen before. So lost was she in the inviting liquid depths of his brown eyes, she was almost surprised when they closed as his lips met hers. Small explosions went off in her mouth, dancing down through her body, leaving in their wake little magnets that drifted towards him inexorably. Her body met his, not exploding so much as melting. Even as she was kissing him, her hands running up his arms to grip his shoulders, she was also outside of them, watching how naturally they fit together.

Even with this double vantage point, the impossibly gentle lips that found her shoulder still came as a complete surprise. They moved from the round of the joint in, trailing ethereal kisses along the crest and dip of her shoulder sending exquisite tremors to her core. As a hand rose with infinite care to brush aside her hair from her neck, she knew without the faintest shadow of a doubt that it was Dipper behind her. Who else in the universe could handle her so decisively, yet with such care that it could be mistaken for caution? As Dipper’s soft lips found the base of Mabel’s throat, she knew it could not be caution she sensed, but reverence.

She watched their bodies from above while feeling them from within, marveled at the way their bodies were clothed and unclothed at once. She watched her own hand leave Ty’s shoulder to lay lightly but hungrily on the smoothness of Dipper’s thigh. Dipper pressed closer at the touch, her hips flush against Mabel’s behind. It was that touch that awakened Mabel to her own insistence. All this softness and delicacy had lit a fire in her core, and she wasn’t sure how long her own hips had been moving, eager to draw them both nearer and stoke the fire hotter.  Each time her hips moved forward, she could feel Ty’s tantalizing hardness against her, as if through clothed and not clothed at once. That sometime-sense of cloth only tempted her more, eager to really feel him with nothing in between. As her hips pivoted between them, Dipper’s hand traced much too lightly over her hip. She was distantly aware, maybe informed by seeing from the outside, of how her back arched,  how she whimpered into Ty’s unceasing kisses as Dipper teased. The tips of her fingers just ghosted towards the junction of Mabel’s thighs, making the most maddeningly delicate contact with her yearning flesh. Her hips strained more needfully, chasing the whisper of Dipper’s touch along with the heat and hardness that belied Ty’s own need.

Ty’s hand moved from her hip, starting fires all along her side as it glided up her waist, across her ribs, coming to rest in the valley between her breasts. Dipper’s fingers connected with the seat of Mabel’s hunger as Ty’s palm set fire to her heart and she felt blinded by need. Need was all that remained, need to feel them, need to protect them, need to never leave them, need to lead them in this dance until they shuddered with exquisite torment as she did now. The need was too great, much too great.

For a second, Mabel did not comprehend that she had wakened, nor at all that she’d been dreaming in the first place. After all, she could still feel Dipper behind her and Ty before her. She could still feel Ty’s erection straining towards her, her hips dancing hungrily between the two of them. The fire of need still burned in her so hot that she thought she might break. Ty was no longer kissing her, she realized, and it hit her like a slap in the face. When did he stop? She wondered, her mind sluggish, Why did he stop? She opened her eyes, hoping for some elucidation and it hit her like a bucket of ice water poured over her heat.

Ty was asleep, his face only inches from hers on the pillow. His expression was slack, his lips parted slightly as his breath came slow and deep. His eyes were closed, the eyelids flickering slightly along to some dream no doubt purer than her own. The arousal that had burned clean and bright in her gut only an instant before turned suddenly to stinking shame, spitting and bubbling like pitch. Her hips froze, her heart raced unevenly. Tears prickled her eyes and she scrambled out of the tangle of her siblings’ limbs. She couldn’t be around them right now, their guard down, their sleeping faces innocent and calm, their trust so deeply misplaced in her. Mabel managed to make it into the bathroom before the tears overwhelmed her. She shut the door with one hand while covering her mouth with the other. She couldn’t let them hear her, she couldn’t let them know. They had moved on, they had never felt this in the first place. She was the sick one, the one who had felt more than she was meant to, who felt it still as much as she tried not to.

And she was even worse than she’d thought. Humiliation and guilt swelled in her anew at the thought of the way she’d been grinding against them, the way her body had been so eager to use them for her own pleasure while they slept. She sank to the floor, one arm hugging her knees while the other hand still muffled the sound of her sobs. Much as she loved them and they loved her, maybe it had been a mistake to come here in the first place. It was too much. Too much temptation, too much risk that she would lose one of the people she loved most. If one of them had woken, how confused, how betrayed, how used they may have felt. Her heart broke at the very thought of making either of them feel anything but safe.

She cried until her tears were spent and her butt was asleep from sitting on the floor. She pulled herself up shakily and reluctantly met her eyes in the mirror. She looked frightful, her face red and blotchy, her eyes bloodshot, her hair a stormcloud of frizz. Mabel stiffly washed her face with cold water, so cold it made her hands ache, but it felt refreshing to the heat of her inflamed face. She dried her face and blew her nose, and impatiently dragged a brush through her hair until it looked a little more manageable. She brushed her teeth, prolonging her time hiding from her triplets.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, the sun was coming up and birds were singing. She looked out at the Mystery Shack lawn, carpeted in fallen leaves. The forest blocked the horizon from her view so she couldn’t properly see the sunrise, but she could see the sky pink and mauve above the tops of the trees. The day dawned serene and crisp, the world cleansed and enlivened by yesterday’s rain, but within her a storm raged on. Bracing herself, she turned away from the window to look back at the futon. Dipper and Ty had closed the gap between them that Mabel had left, facing each other with Dipper’s head under Ty’s chin and their hands clasped together loosely between their chests. Her heart ached with love for them and a big part of her wanted to climb back into their loving arms, but she couldn’t. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back, instead walking into the kitchen to busy her hands and hopefully her mind.

Dipper and Ty would wake to the smell of food wafting from the kitchen. It was unlike Mabel to wake up earliest, but she knew they wouldn’t question it if she claimed it had been to make them breakfast. That was the kind of nice thing she did, wasn’t it? She was feeling so out of sorts that she wasn’t even sure. She made eggs and chicken sausages she found in the freezer, she made a fruit salad from the couple fruits she found in the kitchen, meticulously cutting strawberries into roses the way she had learned in her very brief stint as a baker’s apprentice. She was buttering toast when Dipper dragged her feet into the kitchen, “Mornin’, chef of the future,” she said, her voice hoarse from sleeping. She yawned, “I see you’ve been busy.”

“Couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d make myself useful.” Mabel replied, unable to meet Dipper’s eyes as she filled the electric kettle and turned it on. Mabel hadn’t noticed it before, but it was definitely something Dipper had gotten for the Shack.

“Everything okay?” Dip asked, sensing something in Mabel’s tone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Mabel responded automatically, pretending the toast buttering required all her attention, “Just a, uh, bit of a headache.”

“Aw, well, hopefully food will help,” Dip observed, but Mabel could practically hear the wheels turning in her sister’s head, trying to suss out what was actually wrong, “We didn’t really eat like normal humans yesterday and maybe you just have low blood sugar.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it.” Mabel said, knowing full well that that wasn’t it.

“I…” Dipper started shakily, running a hand through her hair, “Have a bit of a headache myself.” she finished weakly, taking a mug from the cabinet and dropping a teabag in it. Mabel looked at her out of the corner of her eye as Dipper turned the kettle off just shy of a full boil and poured the water into her mug. She hadn’t noticed at first, but Dipper did look a little rough around the edges. She stirred a little bit of sugar into her tea, set in on the kitchen table, and said simply, “I’ll go get Ty up.” and left the room.

Mabel stood in the middle of the kitchen for a second, a slice of toast in one hand and butter knife in the other, unable to move. She heard the groan of Ty stretching in the next room, the muffle of some words passed between her siblings, Dipper’s laugh. I don’t deserve them, the guilt told her. Stiffly, she began setting food on the table, grabbing paper towels and silverware, salt and pepper. She continued bustling around after Dipper and Ty had seated themselves at the table, thinking of more things they might need and frankly, scared to have to look either of them in the eye.

“Hey, Mabes,” Ty said, “Why don’t you hit the pause button and eat something?”

“Okay.” Mabel said, carrying two jars of jam to the table and setting them down by the plate of toast and lowering herself into her chair. She doled food onto her plate automatically, thinking she wouldn’t be able to stomach a bite of it, but was surprised to find just how famished she was when she started eating. Maybe Dipper’s right, she thought against her better judgment, and low blood sugar is most of the problem.

The triplets had spent enough time together over their lives that it was natural for silences to sometimes fall between them. Most of the time those silences were comfortable, sometimes even comforting. It was very seldom that they felt awkward or strained, but the one that fell as they ate their breakfast was tense. Mabel tried to keep her focus on her food, but once the minimum of her hunger was sated the food turned to ash in her mouth and she found herself just moving bits of sausage and egg around her plate with her fork. She glanced around the table at her siblings, found Dipper staring into her tea and Ty smiling wryly to himself.

He laughed suddenly, dropping his fork, getting the attention of both his sisters, “Remember the summer before college?” he asked casually, making Mabel’s breath catch in her throat, “When we’d just laze around and make out all day? I had, like, the most random dream about that last night.”

Dipper put her tea mug back down, and Mabel could swear her sister’s hand was shaking. She realized her own hand was shaking, her fork rattling slightly against her plate. Is he serious? She wondered, how could he be saying this offhand, like it’s normal conversation? She found herself wishing she could be as brave, so it surprised her to hear her own voice, “I had a similar dream.”

“You did?” Ty asked, his eyes searching Mabel’s, giving away his doubt, his hope, and she could have sworn, his desire.

“Y-yeah,” Dipper chimed in shakily, before Mabel could respond, “I… actually, I did too.”

Silence dragged on at the table for a few seconds, but this one felt much different than the last. Ty was the first to break it again, “I… that’s not what I expected you guys to say. Wow, okay.” he ran his hand through his hair, “I was all ready to apologize and for you to be upset but now, I…”

“That summer has been on my mind a lot.” Mabel admitted softly, her heart pounding, “I… didn’t think you guys thought about it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Dipper said, turning to look straight into Mabel’s eyes, her gaze insistent, “I live here! Under the same roof where I… where we…” Mabel laid her hand on Dipper’s where it rested on the table between them.

“Sometimes it feels like that was the last time anything made sense.” Ty admitted, “I-I know it didn’t, but compared to the rest.”

“It was the last time we were all together for more than a week,” Mabel said, her voice growing a little solemn, “I didn’t think that summer was ever going to end.”

They looked around at each other for a minute before silently agreeing, all standing up nearly in unison to clear the table. This was not a conversation to be had without hugs, and they all knew it. Upon returning to the living room, they all hesitated for a moment before climbing into the bed, as if they hadn’t spent the last two days barely leaving it. Mabel forced herself to get into it first, lying a little stiffly on her back. Ty and Dipper followed suit on either side of her, although they were all careful not to let their bodies actually touch.

“I didn’t think that summer was going to end,” Dipper said in a measured tone, and took a deep breath, “And I really didn’t want it to.”

“Me neither.” Ty and Mabel said at exactly the same time.

“I wish I’d known how to talk about it back then,” Ty continued, and Mabel hated the sound of the regret in his voice, “I couldn’t say to you two what I couldn’t even admit to myself.”

“What do you mean?” Mabel asked, her heart was fluttering eagerly at the implication, thinking of the things she herself had been unable to say back then.

Ty sighed heavily, running his hand down his face, and Mabel’s heart lurched at the sight of the tears standing in his eyes, “I… god, I remember saying some just dumb shit about hormones and sexual need,” he scoffed, “As if it was ever about getting my dick wet. But I was an idiot, and that was so much easier than admitting how… that it was…” he took a deep breath and held it for a second, before managing to whisper, “That I love you.”

Mabel didn’t realize how close she’d been to tears herself until she heard her own relieved sob. Each of her triplets tentatively put a hand on her shoulder and she could feel Ty gearing up to apologize and she couldn’t let that happen, “I love you too!” she practically wailed, “I love you both and I did then and I do now!’

Their arms closed in around her and she could feel their tears mingling with her own, could hear the soft hitch of Dipper’s crying as she said, “I love you both too, I love you both too.” They held each other and cried for a few minutes of disbelief before Dipper said with a half-laugh, “We’re so duuuuumb.”

Ty laughed too, but Mabel just smiled, “Seriously, I mean,” Ty impatiently wiped the tears from his face, “We talk about everything, why did we never talk about this.”

“I never ever ever would have thought it’d go like this,” Mabel said, her voice still thick with sobs, “You don’t really ever assume your siblings are in love with you too.”

“Well, turns out we are?” Dipper said, a little incredulous and maybe a little giddy, she lightly turned Mabel’s chin towards her and kissed her. God, was it better than she remembered. Probably better than it had ever been, she’d never kissed her knowing that her love was returned.

“We definitely are,” Ty said into her ear, before kissing her cheek, “By some twisted miracle.”

No sooner had Mabel’s lips parted from Dipper’s than she turned her head so that they met Ty’s, still hovering by her cheek. The same explosive unity that had bloomed in her kiss with Dipper filled her anew. She could hear Dipper’s smile at seeing it. A moment later, she knew exactly how Dipper had as she watched Ty kiss Dipper. She had seen them kiss before, sure, about a decade ago and without the heady knowledge that they were all of them in love. They went on that way for some time, passing the same kiss back and forth between them, eyes bright and tears drying on their cheeks.

Mabel and Dipper were kissing again, the very tips of their tongues exploring just past each other’s lips, when Ty said absently, “Sooo about those dreams we had…” They broke their kiss to look at him, to see what it was he was getting at. He was twisting a lock of Mabel’s hair between his fingers and his eyes glinted playfully when they met hers, “What exactly was I doing in your dream?”

Mabel’s mouth grew dry as she considered the question, drawing to mind again each luscious detail of the dream in question, “Well, uhh,” she cleared her throat, feeling her face growing hotter, “You were kissing me, mostly,” Ty nodded, a smile quirking up one corner of his mouth, “And… and you had your hand on me.”

“On you where exactly?” he teased, as Dipper tucked Mabel’s hair behind her ear and kissed it gently, sending a small thrill through her.

“Um, my hip at first…”

“Here?” Ty asked solicitously, laying his palm flat on the hip nearer to him, making her squirm slightly. He smiled, “Funny, it was like that in my dream, too. I was kissing you and slowly,” he did it as he described it, “Moved my hand from here up to here.” His hand came to rest over her heart, between her breasts just as it had in her dream.

“Wait, really?” Dipper asked, curiously, “You did that to Mabes in my dream, too.”

“Your dream was about me doing stuff to Mabes?” Ty teased, his hand resting warm and heavy on Mabel’s chest. She wondered if he could feel the way her heart was battering against her ribs.

“No, no! It was all three of us!” Dipper corrected, flushing, “I was behind her, s-sort of spooning her, while you two were kissing and you did that thing with your hand and uhh…” Ty raised an eyebrow and Mabel gulped, “And I was reaching around her to… uh…”

“Wait… seriously?” Ty asked, and his voice was intrigued and a little husky, “This… is gonna sound crazy, but I think we all had pretty much the same dream.”

“Your dream was like that too?” Mabel asked, and it was Ty’s turn to flush. He nodded. There was a long moment of consideration, of indecision. This revelation hung mysteriously between them as they each tried to shake some sense out of all dreaming the same thing. As much as they would have loved to claim otherwise, always having been drawn to the supernatural, the triplets had long since debunked any possibility of psychic connection between them. Sure, they were pros at reading each other, but no more than anyone would be after so many years together. What were they supposed to do with this information, that this love and desire was not a curse to bear in silence, but something with which they’d all been living? The question was a complicated one, but the answer seemed simple enough, “This is stupid!” Mabel blurted out, grabbing the front of Ty’s shirt and pulling him down into a kiss. He was too stunned for a second, but quickly remembered how to kiss back. Without prompting, Dipper was scooting closer, her hands running over the both of them as she nuzzled and kissed the side of Mabel’s face, her neck, her ear. Her lips just below Mabel’s ear elicited a soft gasp that disappeared on Ty’s tongue. Dipper moved down her neck towards her shoulder and Mabel couldn’t stand it, breaking her kiss with Ty to capture Dipper’s lips again. Mabel turned onto her side to better kiss Dipper, and realized that her hips had begun swaying not unlike in her dream. Her thighs and Dipper’s rubbed against each other with insistent delicacy as Mabel’s hand found Dipper’s waist. New heat surged through her veins as Ty sidled up behind her, pressing himself flush against her, his erection unmistakable against her ass.

Thought gave way to pure sensation, and Mabel lost herself in the sweetness of not holding back. Though frenzied desire simmered not far below the surface, all three of them were content to take it slow, marveling at the peace and freedom of being together. Showing love without restraint and each challenging themselves to create more pleasure and greater oneness. There was no awkwardness, no standing on ceremony, as garment by garment they shed their clothes, no room for such barriers in as sacred a moment as this. They fell into a natural rhythm, one so innate it was hard to believe they’d never followed it like this before. There was no jealousy, no competing, just joy at sharing and creating such joy.

They spent hours a blissful tangle of bodies. Mabel intermittently had an instant of self-awareness, gratitude so immense that she thought she might burst. Once while her fingers moved eagerly in the wet depths of Dipper’s heat, her mouth glued to Dipper’s breast. Above her head, Dipper and Ty were locked in a searing kiss and Ty’s hips grinded against her back. Once again, in the moment Ty finally entered her, guided by Dipper’s hands as she nibbled at his ear. And again, and again, these unbearably bright moments of need and pleasure and closeness.

She had no idea how long it went on like that, before their frenzy cooled and they fell gratefully back into gentle kisses and soft caresses. Dipper was the first to cry, but Mabel and Ty were not close behind. They were not tears of sadness, quite the opposite, they were tears of relief. There was fear and uncertainty and sorrow not far from any of their minds, but in this moment they were locked together in a thankful prayer. When their tears passed, they slept. Not on purpose and not all at once, each drifting off for a couple minutes or hours before surfacing again. Barely a word passed between them, no word able to say the things they felt compelled to say with kisses, and looks, and fingertips traced lightly over skin.

The sunrise brought with it welcome light, gradually diluting the darkness and making it possible to see each other more clearly than they had throughout the night. But it also brought with it the most unwelcome of responsibilities. Tears welled in Mabel’s eyes again, and she did not need to explain to either of them the reason. Though time had ceased to exist to them, lost in the ecstasy of each other all night, it returned now with all the dread of a death sentence. In just a few hours, they’d have to say goodbye again and go back to the agony of being hundreds of miles apart.

Ty was the first to tear himself from the bed, while his sisters tearfully dozed in each other’s arms. He came back fully dressed and sat at the edge of the bed, looking down at them with eyes full of sadness. Dipper sat up, crawling still naked into Ty’s lap to kiss his forehead and wrap her arms around his shoulders. He cleared his throat shakily and said, “Can we… this time, can we talk about this?”

“Of course.” Dipper said and Mabel nodded, “Not talking about it all this time was a really bad move.”

“I love you both,” Ty said, his voice breaking slightly, “But I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here.”

“Me… me, neither.” Mabel admitted, pulling her fingers through her tangled hair, “I… I want this, but I don’t know how it fits into life.” She crawled over to them, laying her cheek on Ty’s shoulder, “We can’t just rush into this or whatever.”

“Mabel Pines wants a plan,” Dipper joked, “That’s how you know this is serious.” They chuckled lightly, the levity and companionship a pillar of normalcy in the mire, “But she’s right. I think we have some big stuff to figure out and they’re not the kind of decisions we should make lightly.”

Ty nodded and sniffled, reluctantly agreeing, “So we still have to leave.”

“Well, I’m not going to make you,” Dipper said, stroking his hair soothingly, “But I think, yeah.”

“At least for now,” Mabel said, and took a shaky breath, “I dunno what’s gonna happen, but can we please all promise we’re not going to go this long before seeing each other again?”

Ty squeezed them both closer as they all agreed, “No way,” he said, “Home is where you two are and good luck keeping me away for long.”

“Like we’d ever want to.” Dip said, sweetly kissing Ty’s temple. She laughed humorlessly to herself, “What a mess we’ve found ourselves in.”

“And there’s no one I’d rather face it with.” Mabel said decisively, thinking of the many challenges they’d faced together over the years. Every muscle in her body was telling her not to get on a plane and leave them, but she realized that every beat of her heart knew she could never truly leave them, even if they parted. She clung to that knowledge, and held them tight, comforting herself that no goodbye between them could ever keep them apart.