#i wanna pop em in my mouth and just go to town

[spirallingstarcases]

no rock is more edible then grape agate. fight me on this

are these is not candy

[rosewaterandivy]

a fool without a cause | track 1: the plan (fuck jobs)

🎶 My body is a temple, how much d’ya think I could get for it? 🎶

summary: a meet ugly

word count: <700 words

warnings: 18 + for eventual smut, empire records AU | The gang are in their early twenties, college-aged, cursing, name calling, vague mentions of crime

a/n: ah yes, this brainrot sees the light of day. here we go!

Series masterlist | Playlist | Currently spinning: 

Eddie Munson was decidedly not a morning person.

So his presence at the old opera house of Recycled Books & Records before his usual shift was startling, to say the least. Even more so was the fact that he seemed to be awake.

Smoking a cigarette by the service entrance of the building as the sleepy town of Hawkins rose to greet a new day. Leaning against the wall like he could not be bothered to hold himself upright in his usual spot near the graffiti’d red devil. Just minding his own business, enjoying the last drag from his cigarette when a Prius careened around the corner like a bat out of hell.

He stubbed out his cigarette in an abandoned planter that had long ago been sacrificed for the cause. RIP Audrey II. Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the wall waiting to see who emerged from the car. It was well-maintained, from what he could tell, a ding or two on the bumper with a sticker that proclaimed ‘Ask me about my lobotomy!’

It also had an above-average stereo system, based on the volume and reverb of the baseline thumping from the car. Eddie could just make out the driver in the front seat singing to themselves as they flipped the visor down to mess with their hair. He can faintly hear the impassioned exclamation of “There will be feasting and dancing in Jerusalem next year!”

The driver bopped in their seat to the rest of the song and donned a pair of wayfarers that would give Harrington a run for his money. The engine was finally cut, and the door opened and you stepped out, still singing the final verse of the song you made your way to the sidewalk in front of the store.

Eddie straightened up a bit at that. Around his age, if he had to guess, give or take. Sporting denim cut-offs, Converse that had been beat to hell, and a flannel tied into some sort of cropped thing which he very much approved of. Now, it wasn’t that this mystery girl hadn’t intrigued him, just a rather unfortunate case of foot-in-mouth-syndrome.

Case in point:

“What the hell were you listening to?”

And yeah, that was on him. His tone could’ve been more genial and less frustration laced with exhaustion. He scrubs a hand down his face, mortified at his implication.

A slow turn accompanied by a withering stare. “Excuse me?”

“Sounded like some indie shit.” He leans against the wall again, “Weird choice of hype song s’all I’m saying.”

“Huh,” You scoff. “Well, I don’t recall asking for your opinion, dickbag.”

“Woah there, sweetheart! Wouldn’t wanna give a guy the wrong idea there.” He shoves his bands in his pockets, “I mean, at least it wasn’t Fall Out Boy or something.”

“Fall Out Boy is pop-punk, first of all.” Followed by a huff, an arched brow and crossed arms. “My apologies for not rolling through with Between the Buried and Me or some other prog-metal bullshit, I didn’t realize I’d be in the presence of the arbiter of taste this morning.”

Oh.

Eddie likes the scathing bite to your retort more than he should. He appreciates a good banter, thinks you can give as good as you can take.

He shrugs, benevolently. “S’not your fault you don’t have good taste. Can’t win ‘em all.”

“Isn’t it time you drop dead from emphysema or something?”

And before he can reply and dig himself in deeper, Hopper unlocks the front doors of the store. Without so much as a goodbye, you turn on your heel and leave.

Great job Munson, another successful human interaction!

Eddie yanks open the service door and stomps into the employee lounge. And makes himself comfortable on the couch, mentally replaying the interaction and highlighting everywhere he’d gone wrong.

On the bright side, at least he’d never have to see you again.

Famous last words.

[warnersister]

Chapter 9 - Please, not another 5 years

The Highwayman Series | Chapter 8 | Chapter 10

BANG

The fire has shot and you whimpered, grasping at Rooster’s shirt as you struggled to gather your breath. Slowly, you unpeeled yourself from his neck and turned. Cain was lying dead on the ground with a clean bullet wound between his eyes. Bradley finally loosens his grip on you, and you sprint to your father, dropping to your knees besides him “hey baby, don’ don’ look at me.” He says, embarrassed for his little girl to see him in such a state. You shake your head and your eyes well up with tears, smiling at him “don’t be silly, daddy. ‘m right here” you comfort, stroking the side of his face then looking to Bob. “We’re gonna have to try find the bullet somehow, gonna have to get him to stick it out” you turn and search for the doctor’s wife, one of the many shallow on lookers who just watched on in horror. “He’s alive! Get ‘im! Get the doctor!” you instructed, and she snapped out of her hypnotic trance and ran back inside to collect her sleeping husband.

A few moments later, a pyjama-clad doctor hurries out to the scene before him: ignoring the dead traveller and going straight to the Sheriff “plugged the wound, aint hit nothin’ serious, just need to dig it out ‘nd stitch ‘im up” Bob explained and the doctor raised his brows in surprise “physician back in Sacramento” Bob says quickly. “Grab a big sheet, a..a bed sheet, or somethin’!” the physician demands and penny rushes outside with her finest table cloth “will this do?” she asked and the doctor nodded “perfect. Go steady with ‘im now, don’t know where that damned bullet is” he said, as the men managed to slide the sheriff’s limp figure onto the cloth and heave him off the ground and into his practise, lying him on the table as all hands busied themselves trying to both help and comfort their beloved town’s protector. “m’kay daddy, just let ‘em do their thing” you tell him, kissing his forehead “I love y’, sweetheart” he smiles and you shake your head “I love ya too, daddy. But don’t say that, don’t say nothin’. You're gonna be damn fine. I know you love my momma but you aint leaving me yet, not like this” you tell him “you're just like her, have her eyes” he says dreamily. “he’s goin’ into shock” Bob says “nothin’ y’can give ‘im?” you ask and the doctor shakes his head “no, ma’am. Nothin’ strong enough within a week’s travels. Bob searched into one of his deep pockets, pulling out a rattling jar of pills. “two o’ these should do the trick” he says and the other two eye him wearily, but with little option, they pop two into the man’s mouth “swallow ‘em” you tell him and he does so “there, tha’ comfier?” you ask and your father nods.

“M’sorry miss, but could ya wait outside? Gonna have to do things to your daddy you don’ wanna see.” He says and you sigh but understand, nodding “thank you, Doctor Bates” you say “he’ll be alright, darlin girl. Go on now” he says with a small smile for additional reassurance, but it sure as hell didn’t make you feel any less queasy. You step outside, and jake is stood at the other side of the door, face white and covered in blood. “tell me tha’s his blood” he smirks “sure as hell aint mine, pretty girl” he says and you run into his arms, relieved, allowing him to embrace you as your body goes limp against his. “c’mon, lemme clean y’up” you tell him, slowly making your way into the saloon and over to the sinks kept in the bathrooms, wetting a rag to drag across his face. “your daddy alright?” he asks and you exhale shakily “he says so, but he looks ready to see my momma again” you say and he strokes the hand tending to his face with his calloused thumb that produced a shockingly caring touch. “he’ll be alright, baby” he comforts and you offer a small smile.

“I love you” he says and you smile genuinely, tears welled harshly in your eyes as you wrap your hands around his neck, face now clean “oh, I love you too, Jake” you tell him and he wraps both arms around your waist and pulls you in to a tight hug, not letting go as long as you’d let him hold you. You pull back and allow him to wipe the tears from beneath your eyes “there’s my pretty girl” he says and you laugh “scared, don’t know about pretty” “y’ll always be pretty t’me, darlin” he admits, kissing you gently before reaching into his breast pocket and thumbing the object inside.

“god this aint how I wanted t’do this” he sighs “but I love ya, so damned much ‘nd I think it might kill me if I don’t do it now” he says, descending from your touch onto one knee “but please, don’t make me go another five years without ya, honey. I need ya. We can settle down, twelve kids, get married, build a home, cattle ranch ‘nd all” he lists as you smile down at him “but please, d’me the honour of bein’ my wife, will y’ marry me?” he asks and you throw yourself into him “’s tha’ a yes?” he chuckles and you nod vigorously into his neck “of course it’s a yes, jakey” you whisper, allowing him to slip the small band onto your finger. “god my daddy’s gon kill ya” you say, jokingly “don’t worry baby, he already promised.”

Chapter 8 | Chapter 10

[valorxdrive]

"So there's more out here than just the planet this [traverse] town is on? And you can go to any of them with that weird ship?"

Considering their circumstances, Sora found it a moot point to follow any Keyblade-kind established laws. There was a certain camaraderie he's always felt for those who were seemingly set to voyage upon the stars.

Sitting at the mom n' pop pizzeria amidst the city had left to face that premise. "That's the gist of it. In fact, that's been the main motion of things before either you or me really came into the picture. A ton of stars, worlds full of life--" That leads to the unspoken question that settles between them. Unable to get a clear or concise idea on Tem's goals, part of him wondered if she missed home even remotely.

From the way her curiosities gauged however, it left him with doubts, but he kept his mouth shut on such matters.

"Does that get'cha in the mood to hop up n' head out there?" Another morsel of freshly baked cheese and tasty sauce briefly quiets him, a hum of approval easing from his throat.

"From how I've seen it? There really is no limit when it comes to the Realm of Light. Considering all the traveling me n' my gang then, we haven't even scratched the surface." Yet, Sora doesn't sound one bit disappointed about that. Speaking about the methods of travel, he decides to be stark on the matter. "It's one of my options now days, there is my power I can use for another means of travel-- Only limit is that I have to be familiar with the world."

...

"Do you wanna see 'em for yourself?"

@batoushoujo

[gamerbearmira]

(SA)

The town was respectfully quiet as Isabela let out a scream and jumped the leader responsible. Camilo was right behind her with tears in his eyes and a snarl on his lips.

No one could blame the two. Not when energetic sweet little Mirabel was lying there. Lying there looking almost dead and pretty crispy.

"It wasn't...it was supposed to be a joke...it wasn't..." One of the boys, and God he was Isabelas age. He was Isabelas age and had picked on a girl six years younger than him and done...done this!

Alma and Delores came running over, the listener having ran to get her grandmother and was pale in the face.

Alma looked shocked at the sight of the fight and how no one was stopping it.

"That's not a joke! Jokes are supposed to be funny!" Camilo snarled and his fist broke a few teeth in the boys skull.

"Camilo! Isabela! What are you two-" Alma began to demand they stop this madness, unable to believe her eyes at how Isabela was acting...

"You nearly killed her! You could have killed my baby sister!" Isabela was looking feral as she bit, scratched, punched and kicked. All sorts of plants springing up, certainly more than mere roses or vines. But no one was paying attention to that right now.

Almas voice caught in her throat and the air left her lungs all at once as those words registered in her mind. Could have...

"Where's Mirabel?" Alma demanded glancing at Delores who lead her over to where Julieta and Pepa and Luisa were gathered under a large tarp that someone was holding over them as the cold rain fell in waves and thunder crashed over head.

Alma collapsed to her knees, her face falling in horror at the sight and her skin going as pale as her second daughters.

The two continued to go nuts on the boys until there was a raspy choked cough. It immediately distracted them as they turned towards the sound and almost seemed to teleport over.

"Wh...what?" Mirabel cracked her eyes open slightly, and Luisa sobbed at how bad the left one was, completely white and the scar over it was horrible, and used her white eye to look up at everyone. She was squinting at them.

"Mira! Mirabel can you hear me?? Julieta asked and Mirabel gave a choked raspy laugh.

"I'm burnt not deaf..." Mirabel muttered and Pepa felt an almost hysterical laugh well up at that.

"We need you to hang on Mira. Just hang on okay?" Luisa was almost frantic as she held the tarp over her sister, mama and aunt.

"Course. Wanna meet my primo...not going anywhere." Mirabel said although the burns on her mouth were popping and bleeding at her talking, and her voice was definitely raspy.

Mirabel blinked slowly and her good eye squinted at everyone again.

"Wanna meet me? Why?" Camilo asked popping up beside his mother who immediately wrapped him in her arms.

"Not you...Abuelo says there's a new one...I wanna meet the baby..." Mirabel blinked slowly and she was feeling weak but was holding on. Everyone felt their breaths get knocked out of their lungs. Did...did she just say...

"Buelo says hi...an he loves us..." Mirabel said and she was being fed little bits of her mamas food to not irritate her burnt mouth and throat too bad but it worked slower like that.

Alma felt like she was in a horrible dream as a golden butterfly landed on Mirabels nose and she gave a small half smile.

"Not goin yet Buelo. Wanna meet baby."

BEAT EM UP⁉️

I’m putting the fight on WorldStar <333 Nah but jokes aside. Camilo is right. Pranks and jokes are supposed to be funny, and for the most part harmless. The fact that Mirabel ended up in such a horrible state, goes to show that this was not funny at all. AND THE FACT THAT THEY TRIED TO DEFEND THEMSELVES…UM…WHAT 🤨 You are 15-16, take responsibility for your actions. Face the consequences.

Poor Mirabel, I know they was telling her not to go towards the light 😭😭 And Pedro just pulling up like

“Hey I love you but it’s too early and like. You got a primo on the way, so like…don’t die please.”

And Mirabel was like oh ok. Regardless she would’ve pushed through anyway so. She do be surviving ‼️‼️‼️

Mirabel:

Ok I’ll stop 💀💀

[spacedoutman]

【𝕻𝖞𝖌𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓 | 𝕬 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖚】

(𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 17)

Description: Kiss was the perfect name for the infamous bank robbers who kissed everything goodbye to go out in a blaze of glory. Wreaking havoc on 1930s America, what happens when the chase ends?

♥ Paul Stanley x Reader

Note: The files are scattered around my desktop. I also got some things wrong so I had to correct it!

Warnings: None for this chapter

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 18 / 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 16 / 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 1 / 𝖆𝖔3

Bobby sat back, taking a long deep breath. The old sofa creaked. He threw one leg over the other and popped a beer. “So you’re here to do illegal business?” He questioned sharply, raising a brow. “I ain’t the guy—I’ll tell you that for sure.”

“No, Bobby.” Ace said softly, massaging his shoulders from behind.

Bobby shooed him away like a fly. Ace quickly backed up. Shadows swallowed him. You glanced around the moment Bobby’s eyes veered to the bottle. The room was dimly lit by the slightly open windows. Every archway looked like a portal to space. “They wanna’ rob a bank, you know?” Ace cooed, barely audible over the crackling record player.

You wanted to smash your head into the table. Gene sat, legs open, arms sprawled on the chair—like Bobby’s house was his. Bobby loosely grabbed his elbow. “You know,” Bobby scratched the nape of his neck and gulped, his eyes darting. “I, er.. Jesus...”

“-Bobby, tell em’ about your gang!” Ace whined over him.

Bobby deflated—if he could any more. He closed his eyes. “You know a thing or two, don’t you?” Gene asked expectantly, leaning close. Bobby nodded tiredly. “If you come with us, we can pay you a thing or two.”

“How much dough?”

“You know a place, don’t you?”

Bobby nodded. “Several, actually.”

“Then I’d be willing to make a special compromise, just for you.” Gene said in a low voice, pointing quickly—and searing with passion. “How would you like that, mister McAdams?” Bob looked up. He sighed long and slow.

“What do I got to lose?”

Gene smirk-grinned.

“We’ve got a prosperous career ahead of us, just you wait!”

Gene held out his hand. Bob shook it firmly.

“I can’t wait.”

Your eyelids had been replaced by bags of bricks. Ace kept shaking your shoulder since you were at the wheel. Every word he eagerly chimed would fly in one ear and out the other as you rubbed your temple. The road weaved in and out of itself. Gene and Bob passionately talked in the back. Bob confided in Gene about a few things—or were you remembering it wrong?

Either way, the thought of Paul made your heart flutter.

Gene and Bobby walked inside, chattering all the way. You an Ace leaned against the car. You shook your head, pulled back your shoulders—nothing could drag away that cloud of fog hanging over your head. You rubbed your eyes.

“You’re tired, ain’t you?” Ace playfully fisted your shoulder.

“Yeah..” His smile was contagious. “Honestly, I am too, but it’s all good.”

“I-”

“Hey!” His cheery grin shone like the sun. “You wanna go in and get sometin’ to eat? Wouldn’t hurt, ya’ know?”

“Sure!”

Later.

“I don’t know you, Bobby, but I like you.” Paul smiled a little. The city’s commotion proved as a nice instrumental for the singing birds. A solemn song rang on a church bell.--City? You had to be the only one who knew it was just a bigger town. The others looked at it like it was a city.

“I’ve got a little experience.” Bobby happily shrugged. “I mean, it’s also always nice to have someone who can help, you’ know?”

“Absolutely.”

You leaned close, laying your head on Paul’s shoulder. Paul ran his hand down your arm, stopping at your wrist and caressing it with his thumb. You grinned. “Ya’ll have promise, from what I’ve seen.” Bobby said happily, leaning back. “And when do you plan on hittin’ up that bank?”

“As soon as possible.” Gene spoke over Paul who’d just opened his mouth.

Paul pursed his lips. Bobby looked away for a moment. “We should set off tonight and get there in the morning. I’ve got some guns at my place.”

“Sounds excellent.” Gene gave a nod, smiling.

Before you could count to ten, the bustling town surrounded you. Rustic buildings crammed in for a spot by the road. The wind cradled the trees, rattling their branches. Paul wrapped an arm around you, planting a long kiss on your head. You sunk into him while Gene and Bobby chattered in the front. Ace awkwardly squeezed between you and the door. He tapped his foot, staring out the window.

“See that precious hunk over there?” Bobby’s voice exploded with passion. He jabbed his finger into the window. Gene turned, eyes bright and brows raised slightly.

The fading brick building shone like a pirate’s cove. Bank hovered over the door, bleached by the sun. “I do.” Gene pressed his fingers on his chin. “She’s a beauty.”

“Right she is.” Bobby steepled his fingers. “And you’re one lucky guy, lemme’ tell you. That cash is gonna’ kiss you.”

Gene snickered. “What are we waiting for?” He turned-

“Wait.” Bobby took the wheel. “Someone’s gotta’ stay in here—and you gotta’ park a little ways away. We need a driver.”

“Okay—well, who here can drive?” Ace said like it was the funniest joke in the world.

“I think your lover should, Paul.” Bobby turned around. “But that’s just my opinion. They’ve got a damn good head on their shoulders.”

Paul looked down. You looked up at him. “You sure you’ll be alright?” His brows drew together, he held you tighter.

“It’s the easiest job, if you think about it.” Bobby blinked away his glassy eyes. “You just have to swoop around for us, that’s all.. but you wanna’ face away from the bank.”

“But park somewhere where I can see you?”

“Yup—and make sure to park in a different spot, but don’t look too suspicious.”

“People around here seem to be minding their own business.” Gene squinted, his eyes darting from one head in the crowd to the other. “We won’t have much trouble.”

“Alright. Pull up in front of it.” Bobby pat Gene’s shoulder, his voice lowered. “And when they leave, Y/N, make sure you wait a moment before pullin’ off.”

“Okay. How long?”

“Long enough to where it looks like you’re bored and.. uh, wanna’ do something else.”

You nodded quickly, clutching Paul’s hand. His warmth sent happy chills down your spine. He grinned. “Sure thing.” You purred. Gene pulled up. Bobby closed his eyes, took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

“time’s up, boys.” He sighed. “We’re headin’ in.”

[outpost51]

😭

🌳

for the snippet asks fuck me up man

Snippet Asks

🫡 with gusto! let's hurt ourselves with helix bc the prologue really popped off actually

😭 share a snippet that will break our hearts

None of the sticky-outie bits on a turian were attached to the skeleton, and even if they were, all of his sure as hell weren’t anymore. In a fight with just biotics, the trained spec-ops bastard would have won. She hadn’t been taught by anything more substantial than a few shoddy extranet videos she watched in secret. Her amp was barely functional, much less combat-ready.

Maybe the Alliance was scared of the rabid animal too.

She caught sight of her reflection in a dark store window, hunched over and heaving, mouth and hands dripping blue as the mutilated remains of what was once a person only in physical form twitched and gurgled at her feet. Maybe they were right to be.

“Jesus Christ, Janey,” came a wheezy laugh behind her. “My pops woulda loved your ass on Shanxi.” Jerry had already struggled himself free by the time Jane made it to his side; she had to catch him as he stumbled away from the wall.

She hacked up a wad of blue blood and phlegm over her opposite shoulder. “That one just looked like a regular blade,” she remarked. The manic wobble in her voice betrayed her confidence. “Just gotta get you gelled up, you’ll be alright.” The further they got, however, Jerry’s weight kept increasing as he leaned on her more for support, and with how much she’d used her biotics and moved around in general without eating, she didn’t think she could make it all the way back to her brother.

“Janey, I gotta… gotta sit down,” Jerry rasped. He gave her no choice in the matter, sliding off her shoulder to drop heavily onto a bench. “Just go on ahead, I’ll read a magazine or something.”

She shook her head. “Nobody left behind, Smith.”

“Don’t you go backtracking on me now, Miss N5.” His weak smile was interrupted by a coughing fit. They both ignored how the bloody saliva didn’t even make it halfway down his chin before it congealed. “That Icarus-Texas shit hurts like a bitch.”

Because it’s thickening your blood in your veins, her brain helpfully replied. She closed her mouth tighter so the echo wouldn’t make it out. “I’ll get Cohen, steal one of those electric carts—”

“You know that’s not gonna do anything, Janey.”

She did. It didn’t mean she didn’t want to be ignorant of the fact. To let herself be foolishly optimistic. “We’ll come back for you.”

“You better,” he chuffed. “Don’t let ‘em put me in those stuffy-ass blues.”

Jane pretended to clean the blood from her face with her sleeve and coughed to hide her sniffle. Alliance Marines didn’t cry. N5s didn’t cry. The leader of the Tenth Street Reds didn’t cry. But she’d be the only witness left alive, right? Jane Shepard could cry. Just a little. She’d earned it. She slumped onto the bench next to him and leaned over until she could rest her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“For what?” He sounded tired.

She shrugged. “Everything. Being a dick. Snubbing all of you. Cutting myself off.” A bitter laugh built under her breath. “You know I really thought about going to that stupid dance?”

The weight of Jerry’s cheek settled on top of her head. His scruff tugged at her roots with his smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she snorted. When he dropped his Firestorm in her lap, she didn’t push it away. “I couldn’t find a dress that made my arms look pretty. Didn’t wanna make you the talk of the town for the wrong reason.”

“Shit, Jane, you’d be pretty in a trash bag.” Jerry nudged her with his shoulder and nearly slipped off the bench. “I’d a’ still tapped it.”

Jane couldn’t stop the ugly, wet sputter of laughter, but the gentle motion of Jerry’s growing smile could. Had the circumstances been different, she might have called him a pig. It didn’t feel right. Instead, she sat up and held his face steady to kiss him. Just once. Quick, chaste, one last attempt to wrap up his affairs so he wouldn’t be stuck here forever. His cheeks were clammy under her palms. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Give ‘em hell, Janey.”

He was gone before she could fully ease him onto the bench. She was gone before his body could cool further than she could pretend he was just resting while she went to get help.

🌳 share a snippet featuring nature of any kind

They had made it half the short trek to the attached resort when a rush of cold smacked the back of John’s head and sent him sprawling. The bright, breathless laugh gave away the culprit before he even got up to look, but when it turned into a sputter, he panicked, worried that would be it, that they had moved too fast —

Jane launched a retaliatory snowball at Jerry, causing him to miss his next throw and hit Ahmed square in the chest. Ahmed froze. In the alpine forest behind them, a tree branch cracked under the weight of perpetual winter. The entire group whirled on it out of Alliance-honed instincts, then, upon realizing the source, laughed it off and turned back to Ahmed just as he crumpled into the red snow at his feet.

Somewhere in the distance, John heard a muffled shout about snipers. Hands jostled his shoulders, shoved at him, urged him to move. He was vaguely aware he’d told Ahmed to get moving, get to cover, but Ahmed remained frozen, eyes dulling slowly as the life leeched out of him into the steaming slush. He didn’t reach for his backpack, so John grabbed it for him. He could run faster unencumbered. Something solid — a pistol, still warm from its last shot — was pressed into his hands, his finger manipulated over the trigger. Frozen vengeance, blood-red and hungry for more, rose up from the ground and rushed past to crash over another poor soul. Heat splashed onto his face, stinging like bacon grease in the cold.

“Move your ass, John!” Jane barked, a knife still buried in the throat of a flickering ghost —

No. A man. Armored, armed, bearing a tactical cloak and an unknown crest on his pauldron. But Elysium was safe from pirates. It had orbital defense. It had armed guards at the spaceport. They’d only gotten through security with weapons at all because they had prior clearance.

[every-dayiwakeup]

(HIP-HOP MUSIC PLAYING)

GUY: This is Free City. Look at this guy. He’s one of the sunglasses people. And the people who wear sunglasses are heroes.

(HIP-HOP MUSIC CONTINUES)

(GUNS FIRING)

GUY: They have a devil-may-care attitude and they run this town.

You are so hot.

Oh, I know.

GUY: See? That’s not even his car. Or his wife.

(GUNS CONTINUE FIRING)

GUY: For the sunglasses people, they get to do anything they want. They go on all sorts of missions. They got cool hair, cool clothes. I mean, laws aren’t really laws to them. They’re more like mild suggestions. Like, I don’t think he’s gonna return that car. Or that nice lady. … See what I mean? Hero.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(ALARM BEEPING)

GUY: My name is Guy, and I live in paradise.

(EXHALES)

GUY: Good morning, Goldie.

I’ve lived here in Free City my whole life. I’ve got a best friend, I’ve got a goldfish, and I work at the bank. What more could a guy want?

NEWS ANCHOR: (ON TV) Sunday should be warm and sunny with just a scattering of drive-bys. Great day for the beach, but not Hitman’s Beach, which will be mined and sprayed with high-caliber fire from a renegade gunship stolen by…

GUY: And every morning, I start my day with the most delicious coffee in the whole, wide, whole world.

Medium coffee, cream, two sugars.

GUY: You know it. Mmm. Mmm! That is unexpectedly hot. Jeez, that’s good. It’s like losing my virginity, but in my mouth. Thank you for making this with such love.

You’re welcome.

GUY: (LOUDLY) Officer Johnny!

Have a good one, Guy.

GUY: Don’t have a good day, have a great day!

GUY: (LAUGHS) Hold the fudge. You mean to tell me that nobody snabbed up those bad boys? Today is the day.

Like every other day.

GUY: I’ll be back for those.

GUY: Oh! So close.

Mmm! This is the greatest cup of coffee of all time. I wanna write a song about it.

GUY: I wanna dance to that song with my body.

BUDDY: (LAUGHS) I love my life. There’s something about finding your lane and just staying in it.

GUY: That’s why they call ’em comfort zones, they’re so damn comfortable.

(MAN GRUNTS)

GUY: Oh, Joe! Mondays, am I right, Joe?

You said it, Guy.

GUY: Yeah.

GUY: In Free City, I have everything I need.

GUY: Don’t have a good day… have a great day.

MAN: Thank you.

(CHUCKLES)

Take care.

GUY: Except one thing.

GUY: Seem happy.

Oh, come on, don’t worry about that, Guy. You gonna find someone.

GUY: Oh, it’s okay, Bud. Feel like I’ve been looking for her forever, you know? Maybe it’s not meant to be.

Everybody down on the ground!

(GUN FIRES)

(WOMAN GASPING)

(ROBBER WHOOPS)

(GUY GRUNTS)

GUY: (SIGHS) I know the woman I’m looking for.

Oh, let me guess. A woman with an offbeat sense of humor.

GUY: Sense of humor.

BUDDY: An obsession with feel-good diva pop.

GUY: Diva pop. Yes, that’s her. She’s rented space in my brain and she won’t move out. And you know what? I don’t want her to.

Well, guess what? She won’t move either in or out. You know why? ‘Cause she doesn’t exist. She’s just a fantasy. It’s a fantasy.

GUY: That’s cruel. You’re cruel. You’re being rotten right now. Rotten.

BUDDY: I’m being real.

Nobody try to be a hero. This will all be over soon.

(CHUCKLING)

So how about it? Beers on the beach after work?

GUY: Of course we’re going for beers on the beach after work.

(CHUCKLING) That makes me so happy.

GUY: (CHUCKLING) Me too.

Your commitment to your craft is admirable.

[dogtorari]

“They say they don't fuck wit' me (Cheese)

But I say they can't fuck wit' me

Just like the air, I'm everywhere

How you say it's up with' me?

Pop-poppin' shit, you would think I went to school for chiropractin' (poppin')

Lookin' good as hell today, just sent my nigga five attachments (look at this)

Why did you confront me 'bout a nigga? Man, you bitches backwards (stupid ass)

They come at me 'bout niggas who I don't even find attractive (ugh)

I don't know the nigga, I just seened him on the town before

I can't be up in her face, I took her nigga down before (nah)

When I lose a nigga, I just pop out and go find some mo' (easy)

Soon as I feel like my time get wasted, then it's time to go (deuces)

They say they don't fuck with' me

But I say they can't fuck with' me (on gang)

Just like the air, I'm everywhere

How you say it's up with' me? (huh?)

Them bitches should've stayed down

They could've been up wit' me (too bad)

But all they doin' is talkin' down

'Cause they can't get up wit' me (lame ass)

My ex fuckin' on my old friend, both they ass some fuckin' clowns (haha)

Thinkin' that she got one up on me, she got my hand-me-downs (lame ass ho)

He thought wasn't gon' have to stand on shit, like he was handicap (thought it was)

Make that nigga stand on that, now his ass can't stand me now

High as fuck, I'm lit, yeah, I don't smoke no Swishers (nope)

Slidin' with' my gang and them, look at them like sisters (that's gang)

These bitches be lovin' to go out sad about these niggas (ugh)

I don't wanna hang with' them, they don't handle business (they can't hang with' us)

They be goin' for anything, but I can't go for none of that (none of that)

Why would I go chase you? If I know you gon' come runnin' back (fuckin' dumb)

Cut everybody off, lately been feelin' like the lumberjack (fuck 'em)

They really got me fucked up, and I wasn't goin' for none of that (none of that)

She the type, the nigga make her mad she go and tweet somethin' (ugh)

Me, I'm kinda ratchet still so I'm the type to beat somethin' (beat 'em up)

I can't love you, baby, like yo' bitch do, so don't leave her (keep that bitch)

He gon' choose her every time 'cause it's cheaper to keep her (hahaha)

Can't say yo' name up in my songs, might not fuck wit' you tomorrow (nah)

Can get my feelings hurt today, I won't give a fuck tomorrow (that's just me)

Ain't fucked up 'bout no credit score, I might be rich as fuck tomorrow (duh)

Every day the sun won't shine, but that's why I love tomorrows

Ridin' with my twin and 'nem (skrrt), and we all look good as fuck (gang)

She say she my opp but I don't know her, had to look her up (fuck is you?)

I know that I'm rich, but I can't help it, bitch, I'm hood as fuck (woo)

I've been on these bitches neck so long, sometimes my foot get stuck (ah)

I can't put you in my business (no), you might wish me dead tomorrow (yeah)

Bitches be on dick today, sing every word of "Up" tomorrow (Up)

Bitch, I still got cases opened, keep your mouth shut tomorrow (shh)

Play with me today then get some sleep, you know it's up tomorrow (woo)

Fake bitch, that's why my friend fucked on your nigga (ah-ha)

Both you bitches pussy, I think y'all should scissor (ah, ha, ha)

She bought a chain, I bought the same one, even bigger (bitch, it's bigger)

She throwin' shots, that's how I know I got her triggered (ah)

I don't speak dog, ho (woof), I don't care what no bitch say (no)

I stay on her mind, I got condos in that bitch head (ah)

She say she don't fuck with me (who?), who said that you can, ho? (No)

That nigga a munch and he gon' eat me like a mango

Long ass weave, it be ticklin' my ass crack (ah)

Wonder what I'll do tomorrow that these hoes will be mad at (huh?)

All y'all bitches sweet, and I always get my lick, boo (facts)

I, I fight for my bitches and I'm fightin' over dick too (that, that, Cardi, yup)

Can't say yo' name up in my songs, might not fuck wit' you tomorrow (nah)

Can get my feelings hurt today, I won't give a fuck tomorrow

Ain't fucked up 'bout no credit score, I might be rich as fuck tomorrow (duh)

Every day the sun won't shine, but that's why I love tomorrows

Can't say yo' name up in my songs, might not fuck wit' you tomorrow (nah)

Can get my feelings hurt today, I won't give a fuck tomorrow (that's just me)

Ain't fucked up 'bout no credit score, I might be rich as fuck tomorrow (duh)

Every day the sun won't shine, but that's why I love tomorrows”

- GLORILLA 💯❤️

[frenziedslashers]

×VSC×

Hello hello!!

I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while so aaaaaaa

Sinclair brothers (or just one of em if you don't wanna do all three) with more of a soulmate AU? We'll go with the red string soulmate AU (pretend they wouldn't just snip it please wdkbddk) but their soulmate ends up being a guy/trans guy?

I have no idea if I already requested to you aaaaaa so sorry if I did already!!

×Vexelier×

Bestie, I'm having horrid gender dysphoria rn so I needed this request to work on tonight 😭 thank you <3

To make it easier for my small brain. Only you and your soulmate can see your string. Not really sure if it's supposed to be that way or not, but figured I should clarify lmaoo

Sinclair Brothers Red String Soulmate AU (Discovering their S/O is a guy/Trans guy):

Bo Sinclair:

Bo had always wondered who his S/O was, how they acted. Were they stubborn? A model? Annoying? Did they share similar interests?

He would never admit that he thought of these things, though. If anyone ever asked he'd tell them, "if it weren't for ma and pops, I'd chop the string off and never worry about it again."

He never would though, honestly? The thought of having someone out there who potentially matched his crazy was the only thing keeping him going sometimes.

He would hope that you found him, knowing he couldn't leave his brothers to go galabanting for someone he didn't even know.

After some time he would lose hope. Keeping the string just in case, but he figured you didn't care. He assumed you found someone to be happy with, forgetting about poor Bo. Even if the two of you were soulmates.

He would flirt with the girls and even some of the guys that rolled through, but it was really just for the hell of it. Let off his sweet southern charm, but none of it mattered. They weren't you. They didn't have that stupid little fucking string around them.

He'd be even more upset if Lester and Vincent found their soulmates. Hating life to the point he lashed out on each victim, growing more violent. Feeling as empty inside as when his parents died. Nothing ever worked out for him.

The day you got closer was the day he felt nauseous. The string used to be loose, wavy, tangled around everything it seemed. But today? Oh boy, it was tight. Almost like if he tugged it hard enough he could pull you into his arms.

He was anxious that whole day. Palms and brow sweaty. Ordering his baby brother to drive around and look for any nearby folk. To lead them in town.

Lester obeyed like it was nothin' new. Not even thinking twice about it.

When he saw you his whole world froze up. The string, it led right to you! But.. you weren't a girl, like his parents always said you'd be.

He was feeling all sorts of emotions, shock, fear, anxiety, excitement, joy. It was almost too much. The way his throat tightened and his mouth dried up. He couldn't even even say anything to sweet talk you, he was in too much of shock.

You'd have to say something first to get him to stop basically staring into your soul.

"Hey..?" "Jesus Christ, you're here."

He'd be frustrated with how nervous he is, he wouldn't even care if you were a guy or not. Just glad that the person the world claimed was his other half was right there, in arms reach.

"Yeah, I guess I am." He wouldn't even know what to say or do, finally breaking a smile. "I always thought we'd never meet," "well, figured I ought to come find you before we died."

He would order his brothers to not even so much as touch you. Taking the rest of the day to get to know you, get on the basic level of things. His flirtatious, cocky attitude soon busting its way through him. Once he knew for a fact that this was really happening.

He'd feel happier than he ever has, really. He can finally flirt and mean it. Mean all the dirty, and even innocent remarks he makes towards you.

He would probably hide the fact he kills people from you, ease you into it. He would enjoy your company for a while before he told, though. Afraid you'd leave him and snip the line yourself if you found out.

You. His handsome babe. Who he could hold, kiss, talk to, anything. Maybe the world was finally changing for the better. Maybe it was worth waiting and not snipping the line.

If you did and you were okay with it, he would be grateful. If not, and you wanted to leave. Well, he'd understand, but he'd learn never to get attached again.

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent was sure that he'd never actually meet you. He never wanted to leave Ambrose, this was his only safe place. His only home.

Plus he was a freak! Half of his face was corrupted. Bo was the pretty one, he was the hideous creature. He would always be the one unworthy of love.

He'd never dream of cutting the string, though. Even if sometimes he hoped you would. Too frightened to even think of what your reaction would be.

Would you laugh, stare in shock? Make fun and mock him? Cut the string and leave the instant you saw him? The thoughts he had scared the living hell out of him.

Lester and Bo would be there to reassure him.

"Hey, if ya got a string, someone's out there mean'ta be with ya. Looks or not, ya can't change faith, Vince." Bo would reassure him. Yeah, easy for him to say. People who weren't even his souldmate wanted him.

When the string seemed tighter than usual he didn't think much of it. Until he saw you standing in front of him. Panicking when he accidentally snuck up on you.

Your smile made him drop the supplies he was holding. The chuckle you let out was what he imagined true beauty sounded like.

"Oh jeez, ya scared me! Didn't mean to wander, just caught a glimpse and thought this museum seemed pretty neat,"

He would be in a complete panic. Hands beginning to shake as he stared at the string attached to you. Pointing when you seemed to not notice it much.

You look down, then back to him. Watching the man basically shiver in front of you. Panicking a bit yourself that it may be due to your appearance, or the fact you were obviously the same gender as him.

"Am I not what you expected?" He could hear the disappointment and sadness in your voice. The way you rubbed the back of your neck and looked down.

His eyes would widen, shaking his head 'no,' and his hands, frantically. He'd curse himself for his inability to speak, well.. More so his refusal. His facial structure made his voice so nasally and gross, he hated it so much.

He didn't really want to speak, but the worry and regret on your face made his stomach knot up. His heart beating quickly as he shuffled his feet. Hands fiddling with each other.

"No, you look nice." He would say, clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes to the floor. Moving his hair to cover his mask more than before. Hoping you didn't notice. Hoping to God you didn't hate him.

His awkwardness and quiet voice coaxed you into feeling more relaxed. Thankful that you being a guy wasn't what seemed to have him all worked up. You could tell now it was something else, something more personal.

"You weren't expecting me now, were ya?" He'd shake his head 'no,' again. Hoping you'd take note that he wasn't too into talking.

"Me being a guy doesn't bother you?" He'd shake his head 'no,' again. Eyes flickering up to yours. Face tinting red at the mere fact that he was making eye contact with you. His stomach felt like a zoo of butterflies. Hoping you would forgive him for how awkward and nervous he was.

It would take him a long time to warm up to you, but he'd make an effort to get closer to you. You were his soulmate, after all. Your looks did intimidate him, though. You were just so God-Like to him. He couldn't help but draw you when he had the time.

His brothers would do the explaining. Filling you in that Vincent and Bo were conjoined twins, about his deformities and anxiety. Plus how he rarely talked due to the deformation of his face. Causing his voice to sound nasally and hoarse.

Vincent would be thankful that they explained it. Especially if you're understanding. Which you better be, or else he may shut down and not even try to get close to you. Feeling as if it'd be pointless in the end.

It'd take months before he removed his make for you, but when he did you'd know he felt more confident around you. Plus that he trusted you more, which after being around him for that long. You knew that meant a lot, and you cherished the moments where he trusted you enough for any of that.

Expect to find drawing of yourself in his work room, and for him to keep you away from him and his brothers murders. He can't risk you getting hurt, even if you wanna help.

Lester Sinclair:

He'd be a lot more like Vincent than Bo, just more of a sickly romantic. He'd fanboy about you any chance he got.

"I bet'cha they're the pretties’ thing out there," “Oh I bet’cha they’d jus’ love Jonesy!” “Do ya think they’d like truck rides ‘n’ bones?” “Bo’re you ev’n list’ning?”

Would definitely daydream about holding you. He’s so touch starved

Probably has his house set up so he has a spare room just for you. That way when you meet you have the choice of sleeping in your own room. Instead of having to feel as if you have to sleep in the same bed as him.

He’d probably talk to himself at night and pretend it was you listening. He’s weird like that.

Bo would make fun of his baby brother when he’d zone out. Claiming he has a ‘love sick gaze,’ and that he’s gunna ‘scare ‘em off with how in love ya’re.’

Lester would just shrug and smile with pinkened cheeks. He wouldn’t care, he loved the thought of you too much.

When the string got tight he’d get excited. Basically going out on a drive for people without even having to be told.

When he saw you walking down the road he nearly screamed out of excitement and raw joy.

“Hey, ya need a ride?” You’d stare for a moment, but then realize the string that he held between his fingers. Smiling over to you like an excited dog.

“Well, I can’t say no to a li’l’ hospitality from a fella such as yourself,” you’d have him in giggles, pure joy radiating from this man as you climbed in.

Lester couldn’t give two shits if you had no arms and legs, you were you. His soulmate, gender was just a concept to him. He would respect you, so long as you respected him. Plus, if anyone could love him when he was as weird and unattractive as he thought he was, that was a plus. He was just happy to have someone who cared.

He would be showing you off to his brothers ASAP. This is an important part of his life, 10/10 experience for him. He will most definitely be rambling to you the entire ride, too. Answering any questions you have, even if he is a bit shy with some. He’s just too happy.

“Oh we have to let’cha meet Jonesy now!” He’d exclaim, shooing you back to the truck to take you back to his home. Going on about his beloved fury companion. He just hopes you like dogs, or at least his dog. Lester would be sleeping in the doghouse with him if you didn’t allow him inside, even if you were his soulmate. Jonesy was there first. He was like his son, honestly.

He’d be absolutely ecstatic if you liked his dog. Smiling fondly when the two of you interacted. It’d be like a dream come true for him. Having to pinch himself to be sure it wasn’t another daydream.

He’d spend the whole week getting to know you more. Telling you everything about himself that you wanted to know. Spending as long as he could doing everything he ever wanted to do with you. Letting you do the same.

If you wanted to sleep in the room he had just for you, he couldn’t care less. He was just glad you chose to stay with him. Expect him to be up and waiting for you to wake up, though.

If and when you choose to lay with him, he will be shaking like a leaf. He’s not used to someone being in his bed, besides Jonesy. Let alone touching another person.

You’d have to ease him, let him know you wouldn’t break and you wanted touched. If you don’t, please tell him! He doesn’t wanna overstep boundaries on accident!

Would definitely love holding and being held by you, either would be fantastic and he would melt!

If you find out about his and his brothers hobbies and you’re okay with it, he’d let you tag along with him. Lure victims into town.

His hand is either holding yours, or on your thigh when you go with him, though. Even if it’s just the two of you, it’s just where his free hand will always be. You signed up for this, at this point.

You’re his, and he is yours. This is a mutual thing, so please, touch him back. He’ll smile like a big bafoon.

[lis-likes-fics]

Hey there I was wonder if I could have Carlisle x pregnant reader and he’s really possessive and protective of her and smutty please 😊

Author's Note: First of all, I am so sorry for my tardiness. This was requested like two months ago. Here it is now, again I'm sorry. I started writing it and took the longest time to keep coming to it. Procrastination is a bitch. Thank you so much and now enjoy reading this fluffy smut! ❤️

~~~

Possessive, Protective, and Pregnant

Y/N smiled as she waved to her brother, Sam. She'd stopped by the reservation today to visit her pack before returning back to the Cullens place, a container full of Emily's amazing chocolate muffins in her bag, eager to dive in.

"Don't eat 'em all in one night! You might also wanna talk to Carlisle, don't keep it to yourself too long!" her sister-in-law called.

Y/N nodded as she rolled her eyes a little. "Alright, Emily. See you later. Bye, Sammy!" Her big brother waved at her as she drove away. She didn't really know why she was so eager to have the muffins. She didn't usually like sweets and things all too much, but she couldn't wait to eat one - so much so that she opened the container and grabbed one, eating it in her car on the way back to the house.

Stuffing the container back into her bag, she got out of the car after finishing her muffin and headed inside. She was greeted by Carlisle, who kissed her cheek happily. "How was your day with your brother?"

"It was fun, I enjoyed myself," she smiled sweetly.

"I'm glad." He paused for a moment, taking a couple breaths in before asking, "Is that…chocolate?"

She shrugged, "Uh, yeah. Emily made some." She slowly pulled the box out of her bag to show Carlisle. He eyed her with a confused look, "You hate chocolate."

She shrugged, looking away a little, "I mean, I don't mind chocolate."

"No," Carlisle chuckled, "You told me you absolutely hated chocolate."

"Well, uh, people change?" she offered. He smiled as he shook his head, his hand on her waist. He kissed her gently.

~

Y/N fidgeted with the top corner of the page in her book, bored to death as she had nothing to do. Carlisle was in his office, doing some late work. He'd thought she had already gone to sleep - she did announce that, after all.

But to be honest, she was too bored and too awake to sleep. She'd thought reading the book would help, but she sighed and gave up on it as she stood from the bed, stretching her limbs.

Maybe cuddling would help. Just as she was going to do just that with Carlisle, she decided against it. He was working, she didn't want to disturb him.

So instead she decided to get a midnight snack - or after midnight snack. It was almost one-thirty.

She stepped lightly as she made her way to the garage, opening and closing the door quietly to not make noise. She didn't want to alert Carlisle. Living with vampires made her excellent at sneaking.

She pulled the box slowly out of the closet, keeping the noise low. She opened the lid to the box and smiled at her secret stash of sweets. She had no idea why she had it, but she wanted sweets.

She pulled out a chocolate bar, breaking off a piece and popping it in her mouth. She smiled as she sat there, savoring the sweet treat.

She was there for a while, divulging herself in her sweets. She didn't overindulge, but she didn't quite enjoy herself.

When Carlisle finished work for tonight in his office, he headed to the bedroom to see Y/N. When she wasn't in the bed, his brows furrowed and he started searching the house for her. She wasn't in the living room, or the kitchen. He checked the bathrooms that were unnecessary before she came but she wasn't in.

When he reached the garage, he opened the door and froze at the door with a confused look. "Y/N?" he asked.

She froze and slowly turned to look up at him, a hand held up to her mouth holding a cookie. She took a bite from the cookie and nervously said, "Hello, Carlisle… What's up?"

He blinked a couple of times, walking over to her, "What on Earth are you doing?"

She shrugged, dusting her hands off, "Uh…midnight snack?"

"You hate sweets," he accused again, "Why do you have a whole box of them?"

She sighed, "I dunno, I just want sweets."

Carlisle looked her over, taking the pack of cookies she began reaching for. She'd already eaten an entire sleeve. He set the box to the side, "Are you alright?"

Y/N chewed her bottom lip, trying to formulate the sentence she'd been so scared to admit. She tried to reach for her cookies, but he held them out of reach. "You'll get sick," he scolded, "Tell me what's wrong."

She sighed heavily before deciding just to blurt it out. Just rip it off like a band-aid.

"I'm pregnant."

Carlisle froze, and Y/N winced. She waited anxiously for him to react, to do something. Carlisle smiled and she calmed. Then he chuckled lightly and shook his head, "No, you're not. It's not possible."

A weight fell over her before she sighed, "I am. I'm a werewolf, so I can have kids, and well… maybe that's enough. Plus, I took a test three times. I didn't know how to tell you, I didn't want…"

Carlisle's smile had fallen. When she trailed off, he laid a hand on her cheek, "You didn't want what?"

"I didn't want you to leave me," she muttered, looking away.

He frowned deeply, cupping her face with both her hands now so she would look at him. She searched his eyes as he gazed into hers. "Y/N," he spoke softly, "I could never leave you. And you can tell me anything. You shouldn't have to be afraid. I love you, and I want the best for you. I'll never leave you."

She smiled and asked, "And…what about the baby?"

His smile grew again and her heart felt light. He told her, "Well, I've got to start thinking about names."

She chuckled as she hugged him tightly. She was elated by the fact that he was accepting her.

~

The next couple of weeks was spent with heavy preparation for the child. At first, everyone was concerned because the baby would be half vampire. Surely that had to be dangerous for Y/N, right?

But the child was also part werewolf and Y/N wasn't human. She was stronger than a human, she could handle a vampire baby.

The news was quick - too quick even - to spread across the town. The Cullens were having a baby.

They got lucky too - the baby grew close to the same pace as a normal one would. No one would be concerned about how quickly Y/N's belly would grow, Carlisle predicted six months. It was early, yes, but it was long enough that no one would question it.

Only two months in and Y/N realize just exactly what it meant to be Carlisle's mate. She knew he was protective, yes, but it truly surprised her just how protective he could get over her.

Especially when it was just some kid.

They were out getting groceries for the house when some punk kid walked past them. He saw her belly through her shirt and chuckled slightly, "Heh, that's a big one."

He was given no escape as Carlisle grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him over without hurting him. He let go of him and the kid looked between the two of them.

"Was that appropriate?" Carlisle asked as he looked down at the kid, the disappointed dad look written all over his face.

Y/N tried not to laugh.

"She's pregnant, not 'big'. Even if she was, that isn't something you need to be saying about anyone, regardless of the circumstance. I want you to apologize."

The look Carlisle gave intensified and she could have sworn the kid shuddered. He turned his gaze to her and spoke, occasionally glancing back at Carlisle, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I won't do it again, I swear."

She nodded, "Thank you. Go on before he continues his lecture."

The kid swiftly thanked her and left. She smiled up at Carlisle, shaking her head, "You know I'm a werewolf right?"

"Of course, dear."

"And that I know how to take insults and remarks?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you should have to," he kissed her forehead and they continued walking.

She laughed lightly as she kept walking with him. He told her gently, "I'll always protect you. Even if it is from punk kids calling you 'big'."

Y/N shook her head as she laughed, hand tight in his hold as she walked with him. He looked down at her, a smile on his face as he watched her. She looked up at him, "What?"

He shrugged, "You're glowing." She chuckled again.

Continue reading here...

Dr. Cullen taglist: @folkeverandalways

[tootiredmotel]

Give him the real thing

For @floral-cas 's event!!! First time writing from an outsider/oc's pov so bear with me. Huge huge congrats on your milestone K!!! You are a PILAR of this lil community and we all love you 💚🌺💚🌺💚🌺

Read on ao3. 1.7k words

"Alright, uh… confession. I got no idea what I'm doin' here."

He looked around the shop like a monster was about to pop out of any corner. Like the carnations were going to bite him and the pots lined up on the windowsill next to them would come to life and crush his feet. The poor guy looked terrified, but it's nothing Maya hadn't handled before.

"That's what I'm here for. What's your name?" She asked, sensing they'd be there a while.

"Dean."

On any other day, Maya would've been resenting a burly, middle-aged guy with no idea what he wanted coming into the shop twenty minutes before closing, especially on a Thursday. Jade had their A.A. meetings on Thursdays so Maya was alone for the evening. But this Dean guy? He looked so lost, so nervous, so utterly out of place. There was something else about him that made her want to help, too. Maya wasn't sure what, but she'd figure it out.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Maya. Let's start with this: why are you here today, Dean?"

"Anniversary tomorrow."

Concise and to the point. Maya made a mental note. She also noted how he wiped his palms on his jeans and clenched his jaw. Nerves.

"How many years have you been together?"

That got a smile out of him. "A lot. A whole lot. But this is, uh. First wedding anniversary."

She donned a wide smile. "Congratulations. That's wonderful."

"Yeah. Thanks, thank you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, still not meeting her eyes.

"Doing anything special?"

"Nothin' fancy. My brother and his wife are taking the kiddo for the night so, picnic in the backyard, lookin' at the stars, all that cheesy romantic crap."

His words didn't match his tone. It was evident Dean was absolutely smitten, Maya recognized the look, and he was making an effort. He was filled to the brim with giddiness and adoration for this person, and it shone through from him just thinking about them. Jade still looked at Maya like that every morning and night, and so did Maya at them. Every day since freshman year of college. Maya's chest swelled.

"Thing is," Dean continued, a bit more relaxed now. "Cas knows all about this stuff. We got this huge garden behind the house that I'm not allowed to even touch. There's a million books about nature and trees and flower meanings on the shelf, and Cas has read all of 'em. I didn't even know flowers had meanings, I don't know jack shit about any of it, but…"

"You want to impress Cas."

"I wanna impress Cas. It's gotta be good." 

"You've come to the right place then." Maya kept an eye on Dean as she circled the counter. He was studying the pride flags hanging in the window with a clenched jaw, and Maya went on alert. She pulled out the binder they kept in the drawer and plopped it down in front of him a little harder than she needed to, calling his attention. "My partner Jade is more of a nerd about this stuff than I am, but they made this for situations like these."

Dean read the cover, Jade and Maya's Quick Guide to Flower Meanings, and smiled. "Nice."

They spent forty-five minutes walking around the store, binder in hand, slowly constructing the message Dean wanted to convey with his bouquet. He was adamant on it containing blue, so Maya went for the Forget-me-nots first. “Love and hope,” said the binder, which she deemed fitting enough for a first wedding anniversary. 

Dean looked like someone content with his life, and he agreed when Maya suggested they look under the happiness category. “Well, Cas makes me happy,” he said, and they settled on Felicias, also blue. 

Dean eventually got comfortable enough and leaned over to look at the binder in Maya’s hands. “Think there’s anything in there for grace?”

Highly specific, but possible, Maya thought. “Let’s find out.”

And they did. Plumerias, white.

“Anything else?” She asked him. Dean donned a thousand-yard stare as he thought about it, and Maya figured this man had been through a lot. More than she could ever imagine. She was glad he’d found some peace.

“Freedom,” Dean said finally. Freesias, white as well.

It was an odd bouquet, Maya admitted, but Dean was an odd man, and he looked happy with it. He was still nervous, still out of his element, but there was more excitement in the twinkle of his eyes than anything else.

“Cas will love it,” Maya assured him, and he beamed. She still knew very little about this Cas person— Dean could speak a lot without really saying anything, careful and reserved, even dancing around using gendered pronouns for Cas, which Maya found interesting—, but she could see Dean was living a happy life as their husband. That was good enough for her.

“Here’s hoping,” he said as he handed over his credit card, but he seemed a lot more sure than hopeful. He knew Cas would like it, and Maya couldn’t help a sense of pride grow inside her. Dean also put some cash in the tip jar and left with a smile. A good day’s work, and maybe a new friend in town.

---

“Maya?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

Jade poked their head in the door, beaming at Maya as she ran the books in the back room.

"There's a gentleman asking for you."

"By name?"

Jade nodded. Maya sent them a questioning look, to which they just shrugged. If Jade wasn't all that worried about it, Maya supposed there was no reason for her to be either. She made her way out, squeezing Jade's hip as she passed them, and stepped up to the counter. The trenchcoat-clad man smiled at her.

"Maya?"

The depth of his voice caught her by surprise, but she recovered in time to reply "That's me."

The man smiled wider. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Cas. You might not remember, but last week you-"

"Did you say Cas?" Maya couldn't contain her interruption, or the eagerness as she asked: "Dean's Cas?"

Cas's smile widened even more, which she didn't think was possible. It was blinding, and Maya, even in all her queerness, could definitely understand what Dean saw in him. "That's right."

Dean’s fixation on blue flowers suddenly made sense too, as she noticed his eyes. "He adores you, you know. You're his heaven and earth."

Cas's smile faltered at her words, and Maya feared she'd said something wrong.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping."

“No, no, it’s alright.” He looked down at his wedding band, and his smile returned. “He’s all that and more to me.”

Cas stared at his ring for a second longer. It was silver and had a small blue gem embedded into it. Maya could swear it appeared to swirl with light.

“Dean spoke wonders of you,” she said.

He looked back up at her. “You, too.”

She blinked in surprise at that.

“I loved the bouquet. I thanked him for it, over and over, and every time he said you were the miracle worker. That he was clueless the whole time and couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not true,” Maya deflected, a steady heat rising to her cheeks. “He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. And, if anything, he and I couldn’t have done it without Jade’s expertise.” She gestured toward her partner, helping a customer at the other end of the shop, and also tapped the binder, which was out on the countertop today.

“Then I suppose I’m here to thank both of you.”

He reached into a tote bag that Maya hadn’t noticed he was carrying and pulled out a plastic container. “We run a small baking business out of our home. These are on me. Apple and honey tarts.” He placed the container in front of her. On top of it was a label that read D&C’s Pastries. “They are also gluten-free, just in case.“

“What’s going on?” Jade asked, approaching Maya’s side with an expectant smile.

“Jade, love, do you remember Dean? From last week?”

“You told me about him, yeah, wedding anniversary.”

“Well this is Cas,” she gestured to him.

“Dean's husband,” Cas interjected. Jade and Maya shared a knowing smile. “I just wanted to drop these off as a thank you for helping Dean. Apple and honey tarts, gluten-free.”

“That is so sweet of you,” Jade exclaimed, eagerly taking the pastries. Maya rolled her eyes fondly at the pun, which Cas didn’t seem to catch.

“I was just doing my job,” Maya said. “But thank you.”

“Papa!”

They all turned to the child, blond and adorable, running excitedly toward Cas. At the door, where the child came from, stood an exasperated Dean.

“Jack,” Cas started, scooping the child in his arms. Jack wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. “I thought I told you and Daddy to wait for me at the café, I wasn’t going to be long.”

“He missed you. We both did,” Dean gazed at him as he approached. “Dude, what are you-”

Dean scanned over the scene he’d just walked into and seemed to realize what was happening.

“So that’s what the tarts were for. Hey, Maya.”

“Hi, Dean.”

“And you must be Jade,” Dean said, extending a hand toward them.

“Yes! Heard about you, nice to finally meet you, Dean.”

“You too. You and that book of yours are life-savers. If I’d known the tarts were for you guys, I would’a made more.”

“These are more than enough, thank you. In fact, here...” Maya turned to a vase of daisies they had on a shelf and pulled out three. “Now I feel like we’re even.”

“Not by a long shot,” Dean said as he took his flower and Cas’s. He put his behind his ear, and Cas’s in his trenchcoat’s lapel, as Maya handed Jack his own flower.

They all promised to not be strangers, and kept their promise. Dean and Cas would bring over baked goods, and in exchange, Jade and Maya would let them take home a potted plant for their garden. Jack would always leave with a small flower in his hand, a different one every time, wrapped in Cas’s arms as he explained the flower’s origins or symbolism to his son. Dean would be the last one out the door, always turning back and mouthing a “thank you” to Maya. Every time, without fail.

And every time, Maya would think that she wanted what they had. Happiness, peace, a family, unconditional and true love. And every time, she would look over at Jade, and know she was well on her way.

[ashasmonsters]

The Skateboarder

Female reader x Female orc (Morn)

Citrus rating: Lemon

Content: brief alcohol, stupid memes

Words: 9k

Morn reached between the legs of some intertwined partygoers, retrieved a beer from the strategically placed cooler, then opened it on the strike plate of the living room door. Some of it foamed out and fell on the carpet with the bottle cap but she didn't seem to care. The owners of the sorority house didn't care either.

"...so yeah, she said I stank and got up and left." Morn finished her tale of an attempted one-night stand.

"She didn't even touch you yet?" You asked, leaning in close so she could hear you over the thumping music. As was usual for parties like these, you and Morn had carved out a corner where you could be ignored by everyone else and gossip.

"Well, yeah, but not below the belt. That's what pissed me off. She was all over me all night and as soon as I say I want her to go down on me, she insults me and leaves."

"I mean..." you grinned, unable to resist, "did you stink down there, though?"

Morn punched your shoulder and chuckled.

"Fuck off, it's not like roses and daffodils are the norm. You know, it's like I always say..." It was Morn's turn to grin mischievously.

"Don't fucking say it. I swear to God, Morn. I'm going to laugh really hard and everyone's going to look at me weird. " You pleaded. You knew what would come next; Morn's favorite turn of phrase that she managed to use more often than one would think.

"—like I always say, good pussy smells like the heat coming out of the PS4."

You were true to your word. As you caught your breath between peals of laughter, a few partygoers did in fact stare at you. Despite your prior protests, the stares didn't bother you that much. Here in Morn's gossip corner, all that mattered was whiling the time away until the other half of your group was ready to leave. Dera's whereabouts were unknown but Lash was visible in the corner of the room.

"Looks like Lash's plan is all coming together." You noted. Morn turned to look as well; she was aggressively making out with an Elf boy. He licked her tusks. You grimaced.

"Goddamn. When Lash wants something she gets it."

"She mentioned that guy... what, like, yesterday?" You asked. "From staring at him across the classroom to heavy petting in less than twenty-four hours. That's a new record."

"Makes me feel like I'm not even the same species," Morn complained, finally turning away from Lash's public display of affection. "I know Orc boldness is a stereotype but it's not one I'd mind living up to."

"That's not Orc boldness, that's Lash boldness," you chortled. "Don't be down on yourself for not having it. Besides, she's not looking for a one-night deal; if that Elf doesn't call her back tomorrow she's gonna have her week ruined."

"I guess that's true..." Morn sighed.

"Morn." You firmly squeezed her shoulder and stared at her. "I love Lash to death, but you've never called me at three in the morning crying over the end of a week-and-a-half-long relationship. It's okay to not be dating a new person all the time."

"Yeah, I know." She finished her beer and smiled a bit.

"Besides, if you were hunting down an object of desire every time we were at a party, I'd have no one to chill with. Morn's Gossip Corner is the only thing getting me out of the dorm on Friday nights."

"I'm glad to be of service." She dramatically saluted. "You're right, though. I guess it's just the party atmosphere that makes me forget sleeping around and dating have drawbacks."

"Definitely the party vibe getting to you," you affirmed. "Speaking of sleeping around, though... where's Dera?"

"If I had to guess, upstairs. Text her." Morn suggested.

You pulled out your phone and opened the group chat, aptly titled "THA HOOLIGANZ 👩‍💻👩‍✈️👩‍⚕️🕵️‍♀️" and sent a message:

You: dera where tf are u, its almost been an hour

Almost immediately the indicator that Dera was typing popped up, followed by her reply:

Dera: upstairs. firbolg football player. huge 🍆

"Oh, god." You gagged. Morn pulled out her phone in response to see the cause, then had a similar reaction. She started tapping away at her phone's keyboard.

Morn: damn, dera, chill. we just wanted to make sure you were ok.

The typing indicator preceded yet another reply from Dera.

Dera: lol ok mom

"She's got an attitude tonight, sheesh." Morn shook her head and put her phone away.

"I think tonight an early exit might be a good idea. Dera and Lash seem pretty occupied," you said. You couldn't find Lash or her Elven paramour in the room anymore.

"I think you're right. Text the group and tell 'em we're leaving."

You nodded and did so, receiving 👍 responses from both Dera and Lash after a short pause.

"Let's go." You got up from your place on the sunken-in couch and helped Morn up. The two of you navigated through the fire code-violating sorority house to the front door, where you met the cool night air and the odor of cigarettes. Morn's skateboard was next to yours, propped against the thick trunk of a long-dead tree.

"I don't wanna go back to the dorms yet. It's not that late," Morn said, checking her watch.

"Pizza?" You suggested.

"Pizza."

Before long you were both skating into the night. The entire university town was built into the side of a mountain with the greek life houses at the top, making it a breeze to fashionably exit parties like this one. There were a few drunken revelers to dodge on the way down, but once you cleared the sororities and fraternities it was smooth skating. The incandescent streetlights flew past as century-old houses gave way to newer corner stores and parks. Before long, you and Morn were skating through the thick of the city on a course set for Main Street.

The pleasant sound of plastic wheels on stamped concrete was soon married with the aroma of cheap, indulgent pizza. You wouldn't have needed any senses other than smell to know you arrived at your destination: "Get Stuffed," the type of place where a slice was a dollar and you could write on the walls. As was usual for the time when Friday became Saturday, it was packed with the university crowd; too packed to even sit inside.

You and Morn shimmied to the counter and ordered your usuals. Fortunately, Get Stuffed had nailed speedy service and it was only a few short moments before you were on your way out with greasy pizza on flimsy paper plates. You set your skateboards on the curb and sat on them, side-by-side.

"Thanks for fleeing with me," Morn said, folding her slice of pizza and tucking her loose black curls behind her ear.

"Anytime, Morn." You mimicked her pizza fold before noticing something about the beanie she wore. It was oddly familiar, so you delayed your first bite. "Hey, where's that beanie from?" Morn looked at you, chewing.

"This thing?" She tugged at the chunky burgundy yarn. "You should know."

"I should know?" You mused, finally chewing on your first bite of pizza. It was just as greasy and gratifying as you expected it to be. Then, as realization dawned on you, it almost fell out of your mouth. "You kept that thing for this long?!"

"Of course. It's a good beanie. It's lasted... what, since second grade?" She smirked. "It's one of the best birthday gifts I've gotten. Thanks, by the way."

"Thank you for holding onto it," you countered. "The memories... wow."

"That was the birthday party where we had a sleepover afterward. We played tag, and—"

"Oh, no," you moaned, remembering.

"...you ran so hard that you threw up." Morn giggled. Your cheeks still burned at the vivid memory. You almost forgot crocheting Morn's beanie, but you never forget throwing up at someone's birthday party.

"It's crazy we've been friends for so long." You gracefully changed the subject and started working on your pizza slice in earnest.

"It's not that crazy. You've always been there for me."

"I mean... I try..." you were hiding your blush, feeling warm as Morn readied to shower you with compliments.

"Like the time Chrissie Becker rejected my invitation to prom. You started crying when I started crying, and I hadn't even told you what happened yet." Morn giggled warmly. "Or when our families went camping together and you let me share your sleeping bag when I forgot mine."

"I couldn't just let you sleep on the ground!" you sheepishly defended yourself against the flattery.

"Even though you knew I kicked in my sleep." Morn looked up from her plate and smiled at you, her tusks glinting under the streetlights.

"You're more important to me than my shins," you said quietly.

"Hah!" Morn laughed heartily, bumping her skateboard into yours and wrapping an arm around you. "You're more important to me than my shins."

In Morn's embrace there on the sidewalk, you melted. She had such a way of effortlessly making you feel safe and loved. She had been there for you as well several times and was damn good at it. You enjoyed the feeling so much that you just sat there quietly until she got a little worried.

"Hey, did I tease you too much?" Her wry grin had been replaced with a slight frown and sympathetic brow.

"No, no..." you reassured her, savoring the dreamy feeling. "It's all good. I'm glad you're here with me. I'm glad we're... friends," you stumbled a bit over the last word.

"Me too," she gave your shoulder a little squeeze.

You both finished your pizza in silence, enjoying each others' side and the ambiance of the city street. After a moment you both tossed the greasy plates into a trash can and skateboarded back to the dorms. The courtyard was where your paths diverged, and after bidding one another goodnight and farewell, you parted. You shared your bed that night with a familiar feeling. Embarrassment, shame, and maybe even guilt. All for the way your heart skipped a beat when she put an arm around you, or the unstoppable smile when she recounted her memories of you. You weren't super familiar with love, at least not in the way Lash and Dera were, but the way Morn made you feel in recent months was more than simple friendship. You agonized over the thought that she wouldn't return those feelings. It was a miracle you managed to sleep at all.

Saturday morning arrived, and with it, a text. You groggily pulled your phone into bed with you to read it after rubbing the sleep from your eyes. It was from THA HOOLIGANZ.

Dera: hey sorry about my sass last nite. i figured y'all left early and that's cool, i was kinda doing my own thing anyway

Lash: LOL sameeee. anyway, does anyone want to meet up for coffee or something? i’d rather be hungover around you guys than my parents 😭

You considered the offer; it would be nice to actually see Lash and Dera after missing them last night. Your moment on the curb with Morn still bothered you, and a distraction from that would be nice.

You: im down, where u wanna go

Dera: u know that cute little cafe on that corner? main street i think?? the one thats literally 100% pink???

Morn: you're thinking of tokidoki cafe! i'm down to go, that’s my spot!

You sighed. This outing wouldn't be very good for distracting you from Morn if Morn was seated across from you.

Dera: thats the one. lets gooooooo

Lash: yes. literally right now. start running

Morn: thanks, but I think I'll skate there. see y'all in a bit

You: same

The morning air was crisp and cool in the way spring mornings always were. It was a shame Lash and Dera were too busy downing aspirin and chugging water to truly enjoy it. Your skateboard served you well as a means of transport on mornings like this; you and your friends were the rare few students who didn't usually sleep in on Saturdays, so you enjoyed the empty sidewalks. The soft plastic wheels gripped the concrete well enough to accommodate any street corners.

The cafe was 100% pink, as promised. The sweet, pillowy smell of crepes mingled with the robust aroma of coffee and met you as you hopped off your skateboard. The tiny size of the place made it easy to tell you were the first to arrive. You ordered the latte-crepe combo that took up the most space on the menu and sat while you waited. You were idly scrolling through your phone when you heard the rhythmic thumping of a skateboard wheels on slabs of sidewalk.

She looked painfully good as she stepped through the cafe's front door. The morning sun made her long black hair golden around the edges and she still wore that damn beanie. Her tusks poked out from her smiling lips when her eyes met yours. Illuminated by sunbeams, her well-toned arm showed every muscle and vein as she gripped her skateboard by the trucks to carry it in.

"Good morning!" she beamed at you. The employee behind the counter smiled at her knowingly.

"The usual, Morn?" he asked.

"Yep!" She quickly answered before sitting across from you, the pins on her denim jacket jingling. "You got here quickly."

"Yeah..." you answered weakly, your conversational skills still recovering from the way Morn held you last night.

"You weren't drinking last night, were you? You alright?" Of course, Morn immediately picked up that something was the matter. It would be stranger if she didn't.

"I'm fine. Where are Lash and Dera?" You deflected. As if on cue, your phone buzzed. THA HOOLIGANZ chimed in.

Lash: lol srry, throwing up. cant make it

Dera: yeah same.

"Unbelievable. Those girls can't seem to show up anywhere lately." Morn had a slightly disapproving tone. She tapped away on her phone.

Morn: this is going on your attendance sheet

Lash: see u in detention, dera

Dera: enjoy your crepes you two!

You chuckled at the exchange.

"That's more like it. I like when you smile." Morn chimed in. "Do more of that."

The waiter saved you from needing to respond by stopping at your table with your orders. A steaming, folded crepe landed before you covered in a sauce just as pink as the rest of the cafe. A warm latte arrived with it and you wrapped your hands around the warm mug. It soothed you a little.

"Morn..." you began, not quite sure what you were going to say. Was this it? Were you going to lay your feelings on the table right here, right now?

"What is it? You can tell me anything." Morn leaned in over the table. "I can tell something's been bothering you lately."

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You didn't even know how to begin; should you preface it with an apology? Some sort of explanation or disclaimer?

"I don't even know if I can tell you. Like, if I can get the words out," you said before sipping your latte. You savored the taste, hoping the espresso would ground you somehow. At the very least you wouldn't be expected to talk with your mouth full.

"There's no rush. I just... I want to help. I've known you long enough that I'm sure there's something I can do." Morn hadn't even touched her crepe yet.

"Let's just, um, eat." You answered.

"Good idea. I'm sure you'll feel like yourself once you've eaten and the coffee starts kicking in." Morn nodded to herself, cutting open her fruit-filled crepe. You similarly started to work on yours. The two of you ate in silence and, for a moment, you did feel better. Fully focusing on the aromas, flavors, and textures of your breakfast stilled your trembling hands. The slightest bit of confidence grew within you halfway through the meal.

"I... um..." the words slowly formed in your mouth. Morn paused, setting down her fork and knife and looking at you intently. "I fell in love. With someone I don't think I should be in love with."

Morn listened but said nothing. She was thinking.

"How do you know it's love?"

"What?" you asked.

"How do you know it's not just a crush? Or, you know, lust?" Morn inquired. You considered the question carefully. Memories of platonic cuddles, impromptu sleepovers, and late-night conversations with Morn came to mind.

"It's love because it's lasted way longer than any crush. I trust this person, and they trust me. I'm not like Lash, pining for the new guy from across the classroom; I know this person really well."

"I see." She paused again. "Why would it be bad to love them? Wouldn't a good history make a romantic relationship easier?"

"Only if they felt the same way..." you sighed and nestled your head in your elbows.

"Ah, right..." Morn looked sheepish. "Well, personally—and I do mean personally, so it might not apply to them—if I had a long-time friend that I had feelings for, I would just tell them."

"Really?" Your eyes widened.

"I mean, yeah. If I and this person had such a long history of trust, then I would trust them to still be friends with me afterward if they didn't feel the same way. I'm sure it would be awkward for a while, but I really don't think it would be, you know... destructive or anything."

More memories came to you. More times where you felt completely open and vulnerable with Morn, and when she did with you. Times when you comforted each other and shared secrets under blanket forts and playground swings and gymnasium bleachers. Words formed inside your mouth, desperate to make themselves known to the world. Perhaps now would become another one of these memories. You'd look back on it in the future and remember the smell of pink crepes in the pink cafe.

"Morn... I have these feelings for you. I'm talking about you."

You fought the urge to cover your mouth, and you didn't stutter or stammer in the slightest. Though working up the courage was difficult, letting the words go was one of the easiest things you had ever done. Morn didn't react much; an eyebrow rose slowly as she finished chewing. The silence was agonizing.

"I'm happy you trust me enough to share that with me," Morn said calmly. You wanted to shout that's all?! but held your tongue. She took a sip of her latte, clearly in no rush to say more.

"So..." you began, well and truly lost. All your effort had gone into mustering courage and now you had nothing left. Even your anxiety and worry had gone, and you were strangely content, though eager, to hear Morn speak.

"So..." Morn parroted, "does that mean you want to... you know, date me? Like, romantic dates, not besties dates. Kissing dates."

Again, your impulses screamed duh!

"Um, yeah..." you said sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. "I'd like that, but... only if you'd like that too."

She sipped her latte again, still calm.

"You know, over the years, I've imagined what we would be like if we were romantic with each other. Like, girlfriend-girlfriends. How could I not? We've known each other for so long."

You nodded, bidding her speak more.

"I never knew you wanted that. I can't imagine how you felt; I could tell something was wrong but I couldn't figure out what." Morn set the mug and her cutlery down, intentionally and warmly looking you in the eye. "I think...

You didn't even breathe.

"I think we should give it a shot." Morn smiled widely. "Does that sound good to you?"

"Yes, yes it does," you finally drew breath. If Morn was feeling a similar tumult of emotions that you were, she was hiding it considerably well. Morn wiped her lips and tusks with a napkin and got up from the table.

"Well, I've got to visit mom and pops tonight, but we've still got Sunday tomorrow. How about we have our first real date then?"

"Uh, sure!" You sat there, dumbfounded. Was it really going to be this easy?

"Cool. I'll let you pick where we go, just like most of our... non-date hangouts," she said, turning to the cashier. She gestured widely to the table. "Put it all on my tab."

"You have a crepe tab?"

Morn chuckled. Making her way to the door, the sunlight caught her hair and skin deliciously.

"I'm a regular. Anyway," she grabbed her skateboard, "see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow." You answered. She gave you one last toothy grin and stepped out before gliding out of sight, disappearing past the edge of the window. You rested your chin in your hands and sighed like a lovestruck teenager in a coming-of-age movie. Before long, your window-gazing session was interrupted by an employee.

"All done, ma'am?" he asked politely.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, I was spacing out."

"No, it's all good. Thanks for coming by, and if you don't mind me saying..." he looked somewhat pensive.

"What?"

"Don't tell Morn I said this since she's proven that she could snap me in half like a twig, but... speaking as the crepe guy she visits several times a week, I think she's a good match for you."

"But you've never met me before. Maybe once or twice, but—"

"She's told me all about you. All good things, don't worry. It's less about you and more about how Morn talks about you. She gushes when she mentions you, seriously." He paused awkwardly then started to clean up the table. "I've said too much."

"No, thank you," you said. "It's good to know."

"Glad I could help. Anyway... um, thanks for coming in." He waved at you as you got up and left. You nodded and made your exit.

Back at your dorm, you couldn't decide if you wanted to pace or lay in bed and kick your legs. You had so much energy inside you, trapped. It was equally nervous and thrilling. You wondered how Morn kept herself so well composed; something in the back of your mind nagged at you, wondering if it was because she didn't really feel that strongly for you. Enough, you thought to yourself. Morn was your best friend for almost as long as you could remember. She wouldn't toy with you like that. Hell, she explained her entire thought process on the topic before you even confessed to her.

You decided to pace to distract yourself. Those thoughts weren't helpful. Right now you had to choose a place for your first officially non-platonic date. It was never this hard to pick a place to hang out with Morn before...

Then, an idea. It sprung into your mind out of nowhere, and it just felt right. You made sure that the place was open on Sunday, checked the ticket prices... it was perfect. You readied your phone to text Morn the details... but Lash had already sent you a private message. You opened the notification.

Lash: yo how did crepes go?? sorry i no-showed

Your brow furrowed a bit. Lash's random interest was a bit strange, even more so since she was hungover. A dehydrated, vomiting Lash was bedridden for a good half-day in your experience.

You: the cafe was cool! the crepes were good

Unsure if you should be forthcoming about your new development with Morn, you figured they could find out tomorrow once your first "real date" was underway. A change like that would likely be a big deal in your friend group, so a text message wouldn't do the announcement justice anyway.

Lash: how's Morn?

You: shes fine? did something happen??

Lash: no lol, just wondering lol

Two "lol" in one text? You wanted to indulge your suspicions and investigate further, but you decided to leave it at that. You had a date to arrange.

You: still at your parents' place?

Morn: yeah, I'll be back in town tomorrow though

You: k, cool. does meeting at the aviary at 2pm work?

Morn: yeah definitely! what made you pick the aviary?

You: idk if you remember, it was so long ago, but it was the first school field trip we went on as friends

There was a pause as Morn's typing bubble hovered on your screen.

Morn: 😭OMG YOURE SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY😭

Morn: i cant wait to see you tomorrow!!!

You: me too 💕

Your phone landed on your bed with a thump and that nervous energy returned with a vengeance. More pacing, more leg-kicking, even some giggles. This situation felt both extremely real and like a scene from a movie; you never imagined this sort of thing happened in real life, especially in yours. Against all previous expectations, things were going fine. It was thrilling, scary, and made your heart race, but it was going fine. The homework you had to do took a back seat to your excited daydreaming and scheming about tomorrow. You thought about how you would greet her, how you would hug, if and how you would go for a kiss, walking while holding her hand... predictably, sleeping that night was incredibly difficult.

In the morning, you finally executed the plans you fantasized about prior. You decided to err on the side of being overdressed, picking an outfit that wasn't formal but still a little more special than what you would usually wear. You showered, brushed your teeth, swished some mouthwash, and even flossed! Breath mints, a small assortment of Morn's favorite snacks, and an extra water bottle found their way into your bag. If you were going to overthink, then you would take advantage and be overprepared as well. Squeaky clean, dressed to impress, and with a heftier bag than usual, you skateboarded down to the aviary intent on arriving ten minutes early.

The journey was uneventful save for your steadily increasing heart rate. By the time you were waiting for her by the entrance gate, you were fully flustered. You stood still with a kind smile on your face, but anything more complex would have been asking too much of you. The mental rehearsal in your mind's eye ran over and over again: smile, say hi, hug. Smile, say hi, hug. These were all things you had done with Morn before, but with platonic intent instead of this newfound "why not?" intimacy. With how calm and composed Morn had appeared throughout this whole process, you felt as if you were at a disadvantage somehow. You worried in a juvenile sort of way that she was too cool for you.

The way she pulled up to the aviary in her car didn't help that worry at all. Her ride, an old, angular, black thing that roared like a beast, was her pride and joy. She had practically built the thing herself with the number of parts she swapped out of it. It was fully manual and she had the skills to maneuver it gracefully into the parking space. Out from it stepped your actual, honest-to-god, bonafide date.

She smiled at you and your brain melted. You held up a hand in a sort of mellow wave, offering a faint grin. By the time she closed the distance, your simple three-step plan was gone with the wind. Luckily she also decided that greeting with a hug was the correct choice and you were in her embrace quickly. You paused before realizing you should probably return the gesture and wrap your arms around her as well.

"It's so good to see you! You look great," she said, pulling away and looking you over.

"You too..." you breathed, taking your own chance to get a proper look. Her outfit was just as sleek and dark as her car: a pair of black jeans with accompanying boots, a matching leather jacket, and of course, that classic burgundy beanie to top it off.

"Shall we?" She extended a green, competent hand to you. She wasn't wearing her driving gloves today, which was good for your composure; otherwise, you would have well and truly swooned. You accepted her grasp and she gave your hand a firm squeeze before strolling with you to the ticket booth. Thanks to your student IDs, you got in with discounted admission.

The aviary itself was fairly large, and on this particular Sunday, you and Morn practically had the place to yourselves. Other than the idle chatter of a few other scattered visitors, there was only the sound of wind in the leaves and bird calls. The two of you meandered between the exhibits, chatting but not about much in particular. Instead, you were simply content to enjoy each other's company and look at the birds. The birds liked looking at you, too; at one point a pair of free-roaming peacocks followed you and Morn around the aviary.

"Looks like it's a double date," Morn quipped, gesturing to the two plumy birds. They were both mostly brown and lacking the massive, fan-shaped tails.

"They're a pair of girls too. Male peacocks are the ones with the crazy feathers," you noted.

"It's almost like having Lash and Dera tagging along." Morn chuckled. "In fact, if they keep failing to show up these birds would make good replacements."

You looked at the two peacocks, who had started preening each other's feathers.

"Do you think they're besties or girlfriends?" You playfully asked. "That's some pretty intense preening."

"Maybe they're both, like us." Morn wrapped an arm around you and offered you her shoulder. You melted again. "If you had feathers, I'd be preening you right now."

"If I knew how to return that compliment, I would." You said, deliciously rattled by her closeness and warmth.

"I have an idea... if you're cool with it." Morn kept holding you close, turning to make eye contact with you. You faced her and realized how close you were. Trapped in her gaze, you couldn't speak. You gave a faint nod.

The first thing you felt was her tusks on your cheeks. They met the corners of your mouth, pressing gently just before her lips met yours. In reality, the kiss was a quick peck. In your mind, time froze. You could no longer hear the birds calling or wind blowing, only the sound of your heart beating like a drum and a feeling like fire in your chest. Morn pulled away from the kiss with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry if my tusks poked you. I'm still getting the hang of that."

"Hey, practice makes perfect, right?" you let slip with a suaveness that surprised even you. Morn's eyes widened in surprise before she let out a hearty laugh.

"That's the spirit!" She cheered, squeezing you hard. "I'm gonna hold you to it, so be aware: I'm gonna kiss you a bunch more before we're out of here."

"That's fine by me." You couldn't do anything else but giggle. Morn gave you another peck immediately after, angling her head a bit so her tusks didn't have such a lead on her lips. Your first kiss with Morn was perfect as far as you were concerned, but this second one was a bit more graceful.

"Better?" she asked.

"Better."

Your stroll through the aviary continued in this fashion: chatting about this and that, generally gushing about each other and punctuated by more quick kisses. It was strange to have a first date with someone that you knew so well, but you weren't complaining in the slightest. Each kiss felt natural and fun, not nerve-wracking and awkward as in the dates of your past. Before all this, you scoffed at yourself for wishing that there was a switch you could toggle to go from best friends to girlfriends, but so far it seemed to work precisely like that.

To the sound of your giggling, the sun was poised to set soon. The aviary closed early because it was Sunday, and you found yourself with Morn leaning against the gleaming hood of her car. You saw your reflection in it, the two of you framed by the orange sky. She came to your side, attaching to you like a magnet.

"It's probably time we headed home, huh?" she suggested.

"Yeah, probably," you replied reluctantly. "I almost don't want it to end."

"It doesn't have to." Morn smiled. "Did you really think I'd kiss you goodnight and leave you on the curb?"

You giggled. That would certainly be the plan for a first date with a stranger, but this was Morn.

"You could come by and hang out with me in my dorm for a bit?" she asked.

"I'd love to." You answered. Her dorm building and yours were right next to each other, after all. She stood up from the hood of her car and opened the passenger side door, offering the seat to you. Not long after stowing your skateboard in the trunk, you were cruising through the city streets bound for the university. Morn's focus made the ride a smooth one, her hands expertly gripping the steering wheel and gear shifter. She wore a focused but pleased expression as she deftly maneuvered the growling vehicle.

"Oh!" Her concentration broke. "We should get food! We haven't eaten at all."

Tires squealed as she veered right, making a turn she wasn't expecting to make. You gripped your armrest and giggled. The engine roared and, within moments, delivered you to a drive-through whose location Morn seemed to know by heart. She was so familiar with it that she blew past the lit-up menu and instead went directly to order.

"Don't worry, I'll get you something you'll like." She reassured you before making it out of the drive-through, takeout bag in hand, in record time. The bag landed in your lap and delicious smells wafted from it. You were tempted to peek inside and sample its contents, but even while entranced with Morn's driving skills you knew eating in her car was a no-no. Untoasted Pop-Tarts during a late-night study session on her bed were okay but her car was like a temple. You folded the top of the bag to make it easier to resist the temptation.

After she had parked and gotten out of the car, you followed her with takeout bag in one hand and skateboard in the other. This late on a Sunday night, the sky was a deep navy. Stark white light from the lamp posts illuminated the web of pathways that connected the dorms, parking lots, student union, and myriad other places you'd typically skateboard solo to.

A few beeping locks later, you made it to Morn's dorm room. Like yours, it was spartan and tiny, but it belonged to her and her alone. You set the bag down on the solitary table and determined to chow down, but Morn caught your attention. She sat on the twin-sized bed that you had shared with her many times before; platonically, of course. She had an expression that you couldn't quite decipher.

"You okay?" You asked, not sure where to begin.

"I'm great, actually," she said, brushing her hair out of the way so she could look at you. "Sorry if I overdid it with the kisses earlier—"

"You didn't," you interjected.

"I just... It felt great to kiss you. I don't know if it's just my nerves, or the newness of it all, or something else, but... I'm kicking myself for not making the first move on you sooner." She looked away, blushing a forest green on her cheeks. You sat next to her on the bed before she could say anything more.

"Hey, don't feel bad just because I was moping for a bit. The fact I was so worried is proof that you can't really know how someone feels about you until you ask. Even if you were friends since forever ago." You reversed the usual arrangement by wrapping your arm around her. She chuckled softly.

"I can't believe I was stressing myself out over random sorority chicks at parties rejecting me. Being with you just feels so much better than the dating apps and the parties and shit like that," Morn sighed. "I know it's technically only our first date but I really think we're something special."

"We are special," you held her tighter, "we went on our first date after... what, a decade and a half of knowing each other? That kind of history sure beats cheesy Tinder pick-up lines."

"Sure does," Morn punctuated her sentence with a kiss. Instead of giving you a quick peck, she pressed her lips into yours even harder. Within the privacy of her dorm room, your heart fluttered at the notion of Morn being able to do whatever she wanted to you. You felt the beginnings of her tongue at your lips, then she pulled away and took a deep breath. Her face was inches from yours as you caught your breath.

"I really like kissing you," Morn uttered. "Now that we're alone... are you okay if I really kiss you?"

"Really kiss me?" you teased. She got even closer.

"Please?" She played along with her best begging tone.

"Go ham." She kissed you again, giggling at your choice of words with her lips pressed against yours once more. She immediately cradled your head in her strong hands, gently placing you into a reclining position. There wasn't much room, but she managed to fit alongside you in the twin-sized bed all without breaking the kiss. You opened your eyes after pulling away to breathe, and all you could see were her dandelion-colored irises.

"I'm gonna go again," She said, smiling. "I just had to get a good look at you first."

"You can do whatever you want, Morn." You grabbed her arm and placed her hand on you. "Just don't keep me waiting."

Morn kissed you hard for the third time, the hand you held now caressing your body ravenously. As her tongue gently played at your lips, her hand found its way to your chest and played with your breasts. She hardly gave you time to gasp, coming back to your mouth with fervor. Her tongue met yours in earnest now, both of you closing the space on the bed between you. Her body flush with yours, you could feel every muscle as she held you close.

You felt one of her legs settle in between your thighs, and you whined into her mouth as she teasingly rubbed you against it. Even fully clothed the sensation was electric, no doubt due to the person giving it to you. Many nights alone had involved fantasies just like this. Now they were coming true.

Desperately, you began grinding yourself against her leg. You chased the sensation as far as you could, moaning into Morn's kiss. Just as you felt yourself approaching the edge, she removed herself from you. Her leg pulled away and the kiss stopped. You opened your eyes, bewildered. Morn had gotten off the bed and kneeled just next to it, her eyes level with your aching need. She grabbed the waistband of your bottoms before looking you in the eyes again.

"You said you didn't want me to keep you waiting," she grinned, tusks glistening. "This okay?"

"It's more than okay... stop teasing me!" You whined. She nodded, pulling your bottoms off entirely before hovering in between your legs. You could feel her breathe on you through your underwear. God, she was so close; you twitched with each puff of warm breath. Her tusks brushed against the inside of your thighs. With a tentative finger she eased your underwear out of the way, gently planting kisses all around your bare mound. She held your legs in place as they twitched and reacted to her electric touch. She deliberately avoided your tender nub with her warm lips. She was playing with you.

"Morn, please," you begged. She paused to look up at you and give a toothy grin.

"You're so cute when you're frustrated," she teased, quickly going back for more. She felt unimaginably warm against your already hot entrance. It wasn't unlike all those other times you melted at Morn's touch, only now it was so intense you couldn't help but let out gasps and squeaks. She held nothing back this time. Hungrily, she lapped at your slit, each lick finishing with a flourish on your sensitive little nub. You mewled in time with her curling tongue.

"Oh! That's— ah! So good!" You moaned, your back beginning to arch as you squirmed around on the mattress.

"You flatter me," Morn uttered between licks, looking proud. You saw something in her eye before she let go of one of your thighs and brought her hand to your entrance. Her tongue didn't let up at all as she slowly introduced one of her substantial fingers. It fit comfortably inside you at first, but you gasped hard when it started moving. Morn added another soon after, stretching you deliciously.

"I'm gonna come if you keep that up," you panted, your face burning red and lungs desperate for air.

"My pleasure," Morn said before redoubling her efforts. Her fingers curled inside you, making a "come hither" motion that made your hips rock. By this point, Morn's tongue had trouble staying on you as you writhed. You gasped with every finger curl, well and truly lost in the heat of the moment.

"Ah! Morn!" You cried, rocking yourself against her fingers desperate for more. She gave up on trying to lick your nub, instead palming one of your breasts with her other hand and pinning you to the bed. With the new leverage, she worked your insides with her fingers, pumping them in and out of you with her muscular arm. You could see sweat beading on her taut green skin.

"Come for me. I wanna see you come," Morn urged. You could do little else but cry out and oblige her. Your body spasmed hard as you cried out gibberish interspersed with her lovely name. Her fingers didn't stop rubbing against your inner walls, leaving you breathless and faint and tightly wound around her. The coiling pleasure within you finally snapped. Your back arched, completely leaving the bed as Morn pressed her lips into yours. She kissed you hungrily as you wailed into her mouth. There was nothing in your mind but the feeling of her fingers coaxing you through the height of your bliss and holding you there for as long as possible. When the pleasure finally started to subside and your breath returned to you, Morn finally withdrew her fingers and lips and wiped her forehead. She smiled at you wordlessly.

"I love you, Morn," you said, panting. There was nothing else to say, nothing else on your mind. If you had given yourself that sort of bliss on a lonely night, you would be drowsy and lethargic. Instead, with Morn turning her love for you into pleasure that made you cry out and curl, you had never felt more alive. She gave you a moment to catch your breath. Leaving your lips unkissed, she sat by your side and stroked your hair.

"I love you too," she planted a quick kiss on your forehead. "Are you tired?"

You shook your head enthusiastically. Sure, you would likely be sore in a few hours, but you wouldn't dream of denying Morn more of you.

"Good, because I wanna get off too." She chuckled and pecked your lips. Undressing herself completely, she helped you out of what clothes remained until you were both completely bare. You were completely flush against her on the bed once more, your skin perfectly complimenting her green form. Her body was toned and full, muscled yet smooth. Even after all you had just been through, the sight of her still made your heart skip.

"I've always wanted to try this. Spread your legs," she commanded, gently grasping your ankles. You complied and she lifted one of your legs aloft just in front of her as if about to hug it. Still holding your leg pointed toward the ceiling, she straddled your dripping warmth with her own. She eased herself onto you and those lovely electric feelings returned. She moaned for the first time, her pleasured sounds like music to your ears.

The position was a little awkward and bent your back in a strange way, but the feeling of her slick sex pressed against yours was delicious.

"I'm gonna start moving," Morn said. She initiated a gentle rocking motion that made you both gasp. The friction between the two of you felt gorgeous and you soon found yourself reciprocating with your hips. Interlocked and sharing the same squeaks and mewls, you wanted desperately to kiss her but couldn't. You had to lay there at her mercy as Morn clung to your leg and ground herself into you. She doubled up on her pace.

"Oh, shit," Morn groaned, both with pleasure and with effort. She had the same expression as when she was driving; when her head wasn't thrown back with a sigh, she was looking at you with love but also intent. Her grinding made you moan and her glare made you shiver delightfully. You had never felt anything like this before, nor had you even fantasized about Morn pressed up against you like this.

"This feels amazing... ah! Morn..." you sighed between yelps when the friction between you peaked.

"I—I..." Morn gasped, her entire face contorted and flushed. She had brought you to your peak once already, and now you wanted nothing more than to see her reach her own ecstasy.

"Please, Morn, come," you pleaded, mirroring her own urgency when she had brought you to orgasm earlier.

"No, I... Shit, I've got a cramp." She sighed, this time tinged with disappointment as she stopped her grinding. "Ouch." She gently disentangled herself from you, rubbing her thigh. The realization that her creased brow had come from pain and not pleasure embarrassed you a bit, an emotion that Morn echoed.

"Hey, it's okay." You sat up and held her shoulder. Her eyes were downcast as she massaged the cramp out of her muscled thigh. "Just so you know, I'm having a great time."

"You were having a great time." She winced as she shifted her kneeling weight on the bed. "Serves me right for thinking I could fuck like a pornstar on the first date, huh?"

"I already came once, Morn," you reminded her. Sitting alongside her, equally naked and sweaty, there was a clarity in the air that made it effortless to speak your mind. You felt bold, yet comfortable. You felt like you wanted more of Morn's body. "Let me take care of you. I think I can make this work."

"Take the lead, babe," Morn relented. The way she said babe made you giddy inside, but you were focused on her now. "Just mind the leg, it still freakin' hurts."

"Morn, when I say I'm gonna take care of you, I mean it. Just lie down," you said, easing her onto her back. With the positions reversed, you had a moment to look her up and down. Laid bare before you and anticipating your next move, the sight of her awoke something within you. Something that told you not to hold back.

You practically pounced atop her, squarely laying yourself on her body. She met you with a kiss that you eagerly returned. You channeled all your built-up desire to please her into that kiss, at the same time aligning your mound with hers. It took a few tries, but eventually, you found the angle where your clit could meet hers without requiring pornstar-style flexibility. Pleasure jolted through both of you and she broke the kiss to gasp.

"Told you I could make it work," you grinned, focusing now on the movement of your hips. You started slowly at first as to not tire yourself out but quickly increased the pace as the coiling warmth inside you grew. Instead of kissing her, you buried your face in her shoulder so you could hear her sing. With every roll of your hips she moaned, louder and louder as you humped her harder and harder.

"Oh, god, babe," Morn panted. You could feel her frenzied breath on your neck as she cried out. You could feel your own orgasm building but all you cared about was her.

"Tell me how you feel," you commanded, maintaining your hips' pace. "I want you to come so bad."

"Keep going," Morn grunted. "I'm close, I'm so fucking close!"

You furthered your efforts, grinding your desperate nub into hers with vigor. You panted as you began to feel tingles in your extremities and your breath became impossibly tight. Morn matched your desperation, her hips weakly pushing upwards so that her mound would meet yours sooner. Just a little more! More! You shouted to yourself mentally as Morn's hands squeezed your waist to signal her impending orgasm.

You frantically let go of her body with one hand, giving up precious leverage in order to make sure Morn couldn't escape the pleasure you were giving her. There was nothing you wanted more than to reach the peak together. You gently caught her pearl between your fingers and rolled it as you ground into her, drawing out deep moans from her. She spasmed in your grasp, gasping in time with your own pleased sighs.

"Oh god!" She cried out, throwing her head back into the piled-up blankets. Her whole body tensed and you could feel each of her rippling muscles press against you in a desperate bid to ride out her orgasm. You followed soon after, the air forced from your lungs as an explosion of tingling warmth knocked the wind out of you. All you could do was cry out with her and press your nub into hers where your hand was still at work. You rubbed and rolled, trying your best to prolong the mutual climax before finally catching your breath and collapsing into Morn's tired embrace.

With your body limp and your face buried in her neck, you could feel her breasts rise and fall with each breath. You held each other loosely for a moment, just listening to her breathe. After only a few heartbeats, she started giggling.

"What's so funny?" you asked, lifting your heavy head to look at her.

"Nothing," she stifled her giggles, a tear rolling down her cheek. "That was just really, really good."

"Are you crying?" You asked, concerned but secretly proud of your handiwork.

"No, I'm not crying. I'm tearing up, there's a difference," she chuckled. "Thank you."

"Thank you. You're the one that started it," you cooed, stroking her hair. "plus, you ate me out first so I think I owe you."

"It's on the house," Morn sighed contently. "But you're still on me... could you roll over, please?"

"Oh, sorry!" you quickly shifted your weight off of her and onto the mattress.

"Don't worry about it, I just figured the bed was softer than me." She chuckled again.

You said nothing, instead opting to resume your embrace with her from the side. She reciprocated, rolling over so she could be the big spoon. She wrapped her arms around you snugly.

"Ah, shit," Morn cursed under her breath.

"What? What's wrong?" You craned your neck a bit to see her golden eyes in your periphery.

"Our food is definitely cold by now," she grumbled, "and I don't have a microwave."

“I’ve got snacks in my bag.” You replied.

Morn readied a compliment, but delayed when both your phones buzzed. THA HOOLIGANZ had something to say.

“What is it now?” Morn rolled over and grabbed her phone, reading the messages as they rolled in. You did the same.

“What the…?”

Lash: did you two kiss yet???

Dera: they did more than that 😳😳😳

Morn shot you a look of disbelief before tapping away frantically.

Morn: wtf are you guys talking about?

You: ^

Lash: the crepe date! u two are dating now right?

You: what do u mean crepe date? the breakfast u failed to show up to u mean??

Lash: lol, relax. we just thought you two needed some time alone. for the record, i was actually hung over. me and dera just agreed you two needed to talk it out

Dera: seriously, u look at Morn the way she looks at crepes, and she looks at u the way Lash looks at literally anyone

Lash: or the way u look at dudes bulges

Dera: shut up

“I…” Morn began, jaw agape. “I don’t know if I should be mad or amazed. I’m both.”

“They set us up like lonely freshmen.” You shook your head, chuckling.

Lash: u two are dating now right???

Morn: yes dumbass

You: can confirm

Lash: CUTEEEEE

Dera: morn fucks on the first date. respect.

You: wait how- what?

Dera: ur in Morn’s dorm right

Your texting was interrupted by three solid thumps coming through the wall.

Dera: i’m right next door and these dorms are made of fucking paper

Morn: hey, i’ve dealt with hearing every single time you slept with some guy. fair is fair

Dera: no judgment from me!

Lash: suddenly i’m glad i still live with my parents…

You put your phone down as you really didn’t have much to say. Morn gave up on it as well, your phones resting together on the floor. She resumed spooning you and a moment later, you felt her chest start to heave with laughter; a hearty laugh loud enough for Dera to hear through the walls. You joined her, laughing until your diaphragm ached. The whole situation, the realization that Dera and Lash knew before either of you did and that they had a master plan… utterly ridiculous. It was like something out of a movie, yet with your arms wrapped around one of Morn’s, completely real. You feared this was all a dream, and as soon as you succumbed to sleep in Morn’s cozy twin bed, it would dissolve.

Morn could tell sleep started to take you.

“I love you,” she whispered into your ear. She squeezed you tight. You had never been more sure of anything in your life that Morn would still be cuddling you when you woke up.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day four of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was Sunglasses!

Steve has a lot of secrets. Too many probably.

Most teenagers’ secrets are things like sleeping with the wrong people, smoking the cheap shit the jocks pass out, broken curfews and failing grades. He’s got all of those too, but Steve's secret runs much deeper than that.

His is the kind of secret that’d have men in black suits coming to take him away, or at this point, more than a decade after letting him go in the first place, putting a bullet in the back of his skull and calling it a day before any trouble comes up.

He’s been stuck in Hawkins all his life. Been fed the knowledge about the world off a silver spoon he didn’t ask for. His first five years of life are well forgotten to shock therapy and to the lab, where they intended to use him and the rest of the kids like him as weapons. Pawns in their big game of life.

But Steve was different. He could turn his powers off, make them undetectable by the machines they hooked him up to. They thought he was just a failure, so after so long, they wiped his brain with their very own cocktail of drugs and just let him go. Adopted him out to a middle aged dink couple who wouldn’t run their mouths about where their little bundle of joy came from as long as their pockets were lined with enough hush money, and that was that.

It didn’t take long for them to realize though, that he wasn’t as normal as they had been convinced he was. Not even knowing he was doing anything wrong, little Stevie would have outbursts, or small tantrums as momma always tried to convince everyone who told her Steve was too much for her to handle.

These weren’t just normal crying fits though. Anyone who got near him would be just as sad or scared or frustrated as he was. A single sob from that boy had enough power to crack the foundations of the family home.

Most kids when they have a cranky morning will get on the nerves of their parents, but Steve could disrupt the whole neighborhood without even realizing it. And that was his power.

They didn’t have a name for it, really. The range of what he can do is too broad, too undefined by anything else. There was a telekinetic girl, a pyrokinetic he’s pretty sure is dead now. But Steve was just special. Part of what made it so easy to go under their radar was this, but it also made him a risk.

The only reason he wasn’t immediately reported and given back to the bad men was the power this frail boy carried. It scared Ruthie and John, and they decided that they’d rather face the men at that lab again than a seven year old who could accidentally destroy them with his emotions.

So they kept him, and certainly kept their distance. They forced him into a little mold of how to behave properly and made him take pills to weaken his powers. They send him to behavioral therapy and make him act like he’s not a failed government experiment. A fact which he only learned a couple of years ago after his pills worked a little too well at messing with his memory that he forgot to take them, and memories came flooding back.

For the same reasons, Steve’s bored of being careful. Bored of following all the rules and being passive, just pretending he’s like everyone else so mommy and daddy dearest are safe. He starts getting a little riskier, testing what he can do, since this is the first time he’s ever really had control over his ability. He finds a link with other people and their emotions, something of an empathy power, but he doesn’t get far in his research, because his plan very quickly goes to shit when Billy Hargrove rolls into town.

Where to begin with Billy. That boy makes him feel all sorts of things he never even considered. The very first day he showed his unimpressed (but very impressive) face at Hawkins high, Steve cracks his windshield. Oops.

He was able to tap into that control and tone it down, but that reserve dwindled the more he’s around Billy, and from there it just spirals. Bending the basketball hoop on accident, exploding light fixtures, giving everyone in the school headaches. It gets to the point where Steve has to come to terms with the fact that he had a crush on Billy, and that he has to do something to get it back under his control before somebody gets hurt.

That and he doesn’t want to get caught now. He just got back into the swing of using his powers before Billy interrupted his calm. Going back there, or whatever else might happen, is the last thing he wants for himself.

He settles for a pair of ray bans.

It’s stupid, but when Steve was still young and all but popping his mommas brains every single time he cried, she was desperate to find a way to get him to stop. She started to notice he’d concentrate hard on one thing and another would happen, staring at a lamp until it shattered, looking into her face until her ears started to ring and pop. So she does what she can to break that subconscious focus. Puts a barrier between him and all that he’s hurting. A plastic, race car themed barrier, but it does its job, and it worked every time until they got him on meds. So now that he’s old enough not to just tear the damn things right off his face, he figures it’s worth a shot.

Because nothing had made him this emotional, this out of control since the day he found out the truth about his past. Billy is special, and the very last thing he wants is to lose control and hurt him.

He still feels like a dope walking into the school with a pair of shades on. Everyone starts to stare in that way he tries not to let remind him of the lab and the doctors standing in circles around him, prodding and waiting for a reaction. Steve thinks wearing sunglass inside is the least weird thing to happen in the halls of a highschool if Tina can come in with a perm high enough to touch the ceiling, but whatever. He’ll get over it.

The fact that nothing’s exploded from how on edge he is, mostly from wondering if his momma’s trick will work and not because of their judgement, is a very good sign.

Boldly, he decides to put it to the ultimate test, and approaches Billy.

In his head, he’s so focused on just going to talk to Billy, he has nothing planned to say to him, but he thinks he would’ve forgotten anyways, what with the lazy smile Billy flashes him when he notices him approaching.

Steve’s gaze quickly darts past Billy to check for damage to anything, the racing in his chest from just a look like that typically enough to at least crack a window. Maybe he’s not as confident about this as he thought, or maybe Billy’s just really good at making him flustered.

Doesn’t matter, because he’s at the other boys locker before he has time to process what he’s doing, “Lookin’ for somethin’ Harrington?”

“Oh, yeah, I was just checking for uh, my fans. Yeah, they follow me around everywhere, you know?” It’s bullshit, and it sounds more than dumb coming out of Steve’s mouth, but it makes Billy laugh, real low and raspy and that’s a win in his book.

“That what the little disguise is for?” Billy hums and taps his temple, clearly referring to the sun glasses perched on Steve’s nose.

“Oh these? No, I uh, wear these ‘cause of the uh.. because I wanna sleep in class and down want the teachers to know?” His answer comes as more of a question than anything, so he’s grateful when Billy seems to be more interested in his excuse than the subject at hand.

“Pfft, yeah right. I’ve heard you sleepin’ on the basketball bus. Ain’t no way your snoring doesn’t get you caught before your eyes do.”

Steve just waves him off, laughs with Billy even if his heart isn’t in it.

Billy closes his locker door, switching the subject as the scenery switches. It’s all a distraction to Steve, but he forces himself to look Billy in the face as the other boy asks him, “Seriously though dude, you okay? It ain’t like you to switch up your look. You’re not hiding anythin’ under the shades are you?”

“Nah. Just been thinking, I’m not the King because I’m not cool anymore, right? So I’m tryin’ to look a little more.. interesting.” Steve’s not a very quick or good liar, despite the military guarded secret that is himself and the little black number seven carved into his arm, and he can tell Billy doesn’t buy it.

He’s a good sport though, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and assuring him with a little jostle, “Aw, Stevie, you're cool in my book. At least as long as you quit comin’ up with reasons not to hang with me, yeah?”

“Yeah, I- alright. I can do that. Sorry for flaking so much though. Didn’t realize until you said something.”

“S’Cool. Just meet me at the quarry after dark and it’ll make up for it.” Billy offers, obviously trying to play up the coolness neither of them apparently actually have, and Steve can’t help but call him on it. “It gets dark at like, four-thirty, five o’clock anymore?”

“Fine. Meet me at nine, pretty boy.” Billy smirks, dropping his voice to add knowingly, “And lose the shades. I think you’re much more interesting without ‘em.”

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

Darlin'

Warnings: the Punisher themes, blood, gore, violence, kidnapping, Agent Madani (cause she's a trigger warning for me XD), sweet Frank

Word Count: 9095. This is a long one. Buckle up! MINORS DNI!

Her father looked at her with his heart in his eyes, her face bruised and marred.

“Darling, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, patting her hand. She smiles at him.

“It’s okay.” She croaks, cracking her cuts on her face when she smiles bigger. He pats her lips with a paper towel, applying a couple drops off water to her mouth. “Chapstick in my purse, dad.” She coos, giving him a chuckle.

“Of course, baby.” He smiled, kissing her forehead and digging into her purse for that little tube of chapstick. She takes it, putting some on and sighing in relief. “I hired a bodyguard. Don’t fight me this time please. A different bodyguard; one more your style. Maybe you won’t run away from this one.” He chides, giving her a half-unimpressed look.

“Pop, it’s not my fault. He was old and boring.” She whines.

“Well, you can rest assured this one is not old or boring.” He chuckles, waving someone in. This beast of man, with broad shoulders, a strong jaw, and a dark look walks in. Her eyes drink him in. His all black apparel, tee shirt, cargo pants, military boots.

“Wow.” She whispers, “definitely not old.”

“I thought you might enjoy his company more. Since he doesn’t talk and he can’t be persuaded to take you out onto the town at three in the morning for waffles.” Frank chuckles. “Can you be persuaded to take her to get waffles at three in the morning?” He asks, jabbing a finger at the man.

“No, sir. I just think it’s funny that a bodyguard could be, sir.”

“Great. Military.” She heaves a sigh and rolls her lips together.

“This is my daughter, Kat. She’s my baby. I need you to promise you’d give your life to keep her safe.” Her father explains, her eyes watching the gold watch on his tan wrist.

“Sir, can I speak to you in the hallway?” He asks, looking at the door.

“Sir, you know who I am right?” He asks, looking to the man with a partially confused look.

“I’m Frank Castle. I killed so many people the US government lost count and gave me a new identity. But please justs call me Frank.” He explains, and her father’s eyes widen for a moment.

“You are Frank Castle. Wow.” He whispers.

“Yeah.” He nods.

“Alright, well. My daughter, Kat, she’s my world. Do you understand that?” He asks, looking to Frank and seeing him nod.

“Yeah, I get that.” He swallows hard.

“Good, now. My daughter is my whole existence. I love her with everything I have. She’s in the hospital because some men were looking for me and she wouldn’t give me up. If you’re ever in that situation, and she’s with you, tell her to give it up. Okay? My life is not valuable if I lose her. Understood? So if she’s ever kidnapped with you, please, give them whatever information they ask you for, okay? And when she gets released today, I’m putting the two of you in a safe house so she can heal.” He offers giving her a smile through the window, waving. Something about the sweet woman laying in that hospital made Frank almost feel weak. His stomach seemed to turn.

“Okay, and who’s supposed to be posted anywhere else near it? I’ll kill on sight if I don’t know them.” He states as calmly as his own name. Her father, Gianno, grins and claps Frank on the shoulder.

“Your huge. You’re a killer. And it’s sweet.” He chuckles, leaving Frank outside for a moment as he goes to talk to his daughter.

“Honey, I need to tell you something, okay? When you’re released in a few minutes, I’m going to have you quietly placed in a safe house away from me. Okay? Until you’re healed. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? Is Hercules going?” She giggles, pointing to the large man with his back to the door. Her father just nods and laughs. “Then I am not mad. I’ll be holed up in a one bedroom apartment with that sweet, huge man and I cannot wait.” She explains.

“Wow, you know you can’t sleep with him, right?”

“And if I did. I’d never tell you. Who’s packing my stuff?” She asks, looking at him quizzically.

“Lyla is, currently. I figured if any girl knew what to pack it’d be her.” He laughs. The door opens, Frank nodding to her father.

“Hello! I’m Doctor Haas. I’m here with the paperwork for you, dear.” The woman nods with a gleaming smile. Handing over a clipboard, Kat signs the paperwork in record time and happily changes out of the gown. “We’ll grab a wheelchair from the hall and--”

“No! No, please. No wheelchair. Between pop and Hercules I’ll be fine. Honestly. I wanna walk out on my own.” She whines, standing on quaking legs.

“Alright! No problem.” She smiles, giving her a nod and sending her on her way.

“Honeybun, maybe you should think about using the--”

“No! Pop, I’m not using it.” She gingerly steps into the hallway. Frank looks down at her for a moment, taking in the situation. Before he can say a word, she looks up with shimmering grey-blue eyes and a pleading smile. “I can’t use a wheelchair. I have to walk out of here.” She whispers, gripping his hand.

“Okay.” He whispers back. With a look at her, he tucks her under his arm, holding her up at her waist to keep her on her feet. Even when her legs start to give way at the exit door, Frank holds fast and gets her quickly to the car.

“You can do it.” He whispers as the steps get closer and closer, the car only a yard away. “Come on. If anyone can do it, you can. You didn’t take a wheelchair because you know you’re strong.” He coos, getting her to push through the last ten steps before collapsing into the SUV.

“Thank you.” She whispers, hugging his neck as he lifts her onto the seat. He climbs in next to her, buckling her in.

“Safe house.” Her father states as he gets into the passenger seat with a little smirk on his face.

“Tell me, Hercules. Where are you from?” She asks, gripping his bicep and gleaming up at him.

“Queens.” He smiles, his eyes scanning around them while he talks to her.

“You married?” She asks, looking at the necklace that hangs around his neck.

“I was.” He states, looking out the windows for suspicious cars.

“Ah sorry. Divorced?”

“Killed. My wife and two kids.” He states, looking to her with pain in his eyes.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” She coos, patting his shoulder. “God I’m tired.” She murmurs, tipping over onto his shoulder and falling asleep. He gently leans her to the other door onto the padded seat back and sits back up, eyes scanning again.

“Mister Luccianni, that silver grand am to your right, has been following us for the past two miles.” He states, grabbing for his weapon. “Gimme the go, I’ll smoke em.” He offers, narrowing his sights and putting his finger on the window button.

“Stand down. They’re your test. You passed. Good eye. Is she asleep?” Her father asks as they pull into a parking garage.

“Yeah.” He nods, the car coming to a slow stop in a parking spot.

“The silver car has her things in it. It’s the most common car in the state of New York it seems. So, Lyla, her best friend is in the car. She’s sex-crazed and will probably hit on you. She’s got Kat’s things and she can help put them in the apartment. Now. Next, I need you to carry her in, as unsuspecting as possible. It’s midday and people are out and about. Try not to give yourselves away. Lyla is dressed in a mover’s uniform. Short brunette, pencil straight hair. There will be neighbors out. You two are newly married until you get in that door.” Her father debriefs him with a smile and gives him a nod.

“Got it, sir. Is she to stay in the apartment all the time? Will she sneak out? What do the men look like who did this to her?”

“Don’t keep her cooped up the whole time, she’ll go crazy. Call a driver first. The driver confirms with you. You bring her out as your new wife. You get into the car. She will sneak out. Lyla will probably convince her to sneak out so they can go wine tasting or something. Lyla’s a good girl, but she’s crazy. The men who did this? They look dead.” He answers all the questions and he nods. Frank found her interesting. “She’s been engaged, but never married. He was killed, much like your family.” He coos, looking at his daughter with a loving, sad smile. “Alright, it’s time to go in.” He smiles, letting Frank get out first, scooping her out of the seat and starting towards the door.

“What-what’s happening?” She asks. Half awake, half asleep, the jostling is all to familiar and she kicks out, diving to the ground and waking up immediately. Frank stares down at her with wide eyes and a little smirk.

“You good now?” He gruffs, sticking out a hand. She takes it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry.” She whispers as he tucks her under his arm.

“It’s okay, hunny. Those men can’t hurt you again.” He states out loud, his big hand covering the side of her face and holding it against his chest. “We’re married when we leave this aparment.” He hushes as they walk, never missing a beat.

“Well, alright then.” She giggles loudly, letting him keep her against him. As her father lets them into the apartment, Frank almost has to peel her off of him. “Aw, c’mon hunny! I’m not done cuddling.” She whines, making grabby hands at him. “You’re so warm.” He just chuckles, heading into the room with her father and other guards to discuss what the next plan is. A knock at the door has Frank’s undivided attention. Peeking through the peephole, he sees the described woman who was bringing her things in. He waves her over, signaling to be quiet.

“Is this Lyla?” He asks, covering her mouth as she gasps. She nods violently, grabbing for the handle. Frank’s hand is faster, tugging hers away. “Go over there.” He hushes, pointing behind the couch. Huffing, she rolls her eyes and wobbles to the couch. Frank carefully opens the door and finds a petite woman with a cart full of suitcases. “Name.” He barks, hand resting on his pistol.

“Lyla. I’m here for welcome party.” She grins so widely Frank finds it odd, but when he peeks out, he sees a neighbor looking over at them.

“My wife must’ve invited you! C’mon in!” He cheers, waving her in and shutting the door. “The arsenal arrived.” He chuckles, waving Kat over.

“I’m so happy to finally see you!” She cheers, gripping her best friend in a warm, tight hug. When Kat groans at the slight throb in her ribs, Frank’s head flips back to them.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” She assures, heading into the bedroom and Lyla follows, dragging the bags along with her. Frank laughs, heading back into the room with her father and guards again. She curls up onto the couch after waving goodbye to her best friend. Frank had tossed his jacket onto the couch with his duffelbag and when she saw his coat, the only blanket-like thing near her, she draws it to her and covers up with it.

“But we’ll head out so you two can get better acquainted. The fridge and cupboards have been stocked up for you. Drinks are in the island, as well as wine in the cabinet. If Lyla tries to kidnap her, just shmooze her with wine tasting.” He chuckles, kissing his daughter atop her buised head and stepping out.

As she wakes from her nap, she sees the most glorious sight. A glass-walled shower with frosted glass and her bodyguard’s naked body in said shower. He climbs out, wrapping the towel around his waist. Combing through his hair, he feels eyes on himself and looks out the open door to see she’s awake.

“Hey, hot bodyguard.” She gives an awkward wave, jaw still on the floor.

“Hey, Kat.” He waves, dropping the towel just outside of her eyesight, returning a moment later dressed in a gray tee shirt and jeans, hearing a audible groan.

“It’s Frank, by the way.” He chuckles, offering a hand.

“It might be wise to know my newly wedded husband’s name. In case the neighbors ask.” She laughs, patting the couch with an inviting smile.

“You should shower.” He ruffs, helping her to her feet. “Doctor said first night you shower, try not to lift your arms too much. So I’m the best you got.” He smiles, a little excited to see her naked, frosted glass or not.

“Great. So you’re name is Frank, you’ve known me twelve hours, and now you’re going to see me naked? This is a fucking treat.” She rolls her eyes, but Frank just laughs.

“You didn’t think you’d be the only one to get a show, did you?” He asks.

“Hey now! I happened to wake up at the right time. That’s not my fault.” She laughs, defending herself as she gives a grin.

“It is now, c’mon, doll.” He chuckles as she digs through the suitcase for underwear, a bra, and a shirt. She’d found shorts already.

“Did you just call me doll? Should I call pops and tell him you already have a crush on me?” He just rolls his eyes as she walks to the bathroom. Tugging off her sweatpants and underwear, she feels exposed, but she can’t get her shirt off. Snapping her fingers, she hooks the t-shirt’s collar onto the towel hook and tugs the shirt off, sobbing when her arm is raised so high. Frank comes through the door.

“You okay?” He asks, looking around her to find her shirt hanging on the hook.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” She nods, letting Frank’s eyes drink her in. “Actually, Frank? Can you unhook this? I can’t get it.” She whines, pushing on her bra with one hand.

“Sure.” Unhooking her bra, his knuckles brushing her smooth skin, his eyes travel down the gauze pads that pepper her back.

“Those have to come off too.” She whispers, meaning the gauze pads. He peels each one off gingerly to find a variously shaped cigarette burns on her back.

“What the hell?” He whispers, his finger running between the burns. She shivers at the intimate touch and he jerks his hand away. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s okay.” She whispers, putting Frank’s hand back on her shoulder and letting him trail down again.

“It looks like a constellation.” He whispers, pulling away his hand.

“Thank you.” She coos, letting the hot water start.

Frank washes her back and shoulders, gentle around her burns.

“Thank you.” He puts the loofa down and steps out of the bathroom giving her a little privacy and himself a little space. He didn’t know why he felt this way, but he wanted so badly to kiss every little mark, trailing down her back. Huffing to calm down his nerves, he heads to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Not finding any, he mixes up a couple mugs of hot chocolate.

“So, uh, no coffee. But, I found some hot chocolate.” He smiles. Offering a mug of steaming hot cocoa.

“No coffee?” She asks, looking at him like he’d just sworn at her.

“Right? No coffee.” She pulls out her phone and sets up a delivery for starbucks in the morning.

“I probably shouldn’t drink any, anyway. It’s late, ya know. I should sleep.” She groans as they finish off the hot chocolate.

“Yeah, you hit the bed. I’m on the couch.” He explains, pointing to the bedroom.

“No, no. I can’t sleep there while you--”

“It’s my job. Okay? So you get in there and go to bed.” He orders, letting her get up and walk to her room.

Almost an hour passes when he hears her voice softly muttering under her breath.

“Darlin’?” He asks, looking into the dim room to see her thrashing on the bed, a scream filling the room. He bolts to her bed, grabbing her shoulders and hugging her against him. “IT’s not real. It’s not real. You’re in a safehouse. You’re name is Kat. You have a bodyguard named Frank. Your father is a mob boss.” He whispers things that are real as she comes out of her nightmare.

“Thank you.” She sniffs, curling into herself. He sits gently on the edge of the bed and draws her against him.

“No problem. Sometimes I get ‘em too.” He ruffs, looking at her with a small smile.

“Really? How do you make them go away?” She asks.

“I killed the men responsible.” He offers a crooked smile and she laughs. “Go to sleep.” He coos, smoothing her hair as she starts to drift.

“Oh, Frank? Tomorrow morning there’s supposed to a delivery driver at the door. I ordered coffee for the morning.” She smiles, letting him hug her against him, resting his chin atop her head.

“I’ll try not to kill them.” He hushes as he hears her lightly snoring. Sleep starts to push his eyelids closed and slowly, he leans back against the headboard, exhausted. Soon, she’s climbing on him in her sleep, cuddled as close as possible under his chin and on his chest. His arms curl around her instinctively. Safety washes over her as she peeps through one sleepy eyelid to see Frank so close to her asleep. Smiling, she tucks her head back under his chin and goes back to sleep.

A knock sounds at the door, waking them both out of their comforting bubble.

“Ssh. Don’t move.” He rises, scrubbing his face and stalking silently to the door. She takes a ten from her wallet and slides it under the door. “Put the coffee down, take your tip and walk away.” He demands, never opening the door. Once the man’s out of sight, she slips out and snatches the two coffees and the small bag of coffee grounds.

“Frankie!” She calls, handing him a coffee when she finds him standing in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Yes, coffee.” He chuckles, taking the cup and sipping the hot caffeinated drink.

“Thank you for last night. Ugh, sounds weird to say like that, but you know what I mean. I didn’t have a nightmare when you slept there. Can-I just-well-sorry. It’s stupid.”

“Nah, ask.” He assures, sliding a plate across to her.

“I just wondered, you know, if maybe--if you wanted to--possibly sleep in the same bed again. It doesn’t have to get weird. I just--that was the first night in almost two weeks I didn’t have another nightmare. It was exhilarating.” She stammers, so afraid of what the big brute might say.

“That’s fine.” He nods, sitting down to eat, but not before he pats a hand to her shoulder.

“So tell me something about you.”

“I was in a special forces military ops.” He offers, finishing his plate in record time.

“Wow, that’s explains your nightmares.” She wags her brows, almost halfway done with her plate.

“No, it doesn’t. My family was shot in a park. While I was there. It was meant for me but they didn’t get me. They got my son, my daughter, and my sweet wife.” He husks, his throat starting to close. Springing from her seat, fork clattering to the plate with a glass ‘ting’ she jumps into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and gripping tight.

“Christ, I’m so sorry. My husband was shot down while working with my father. The bullets were meant for my father, but the killer got the wrong info.” She whispers, and Frank’s arms wrap around her, hugging her tight to his hard body.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, letting her hold him for what seems like hours.

“Frank? Can you promise me something?” She asks as she leans back a little.

“Sure.”

“Promise me you’ll do everything you can to stay alive. Okay? You’re a good man, Frank, and I don’t want to be the reason you die. I--You could walk out and I’d understand. You can leave.” She assures, elbows resting on his shoulders. Frank rises to his feet, towering over her and grabs her chin in his thumb and first finger.

“I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I already made a promise to your father to keep you safe if it kills me, so his negates yours. Sorry, hunny.” He hushes, grinning at her.

“Ugh, no fun.” She whines, tugging her face away from from his warm, firm grip and finding a sweatshirt to put on. It was chilly, Frank found it soothing, but his roommate not so much and she came back into the room in his black hoodie, almost drowning in it. He couldn’t hide the the small chuckle. “Hey Frank? Do you think we could go out today?” She asks, rolling the sleeves once so she could use her hands.

“No. I think we could not.” He mocks in a high pitched voice. She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts. Frank huffs, not sure if he should take her out. Grabbing his phone, he dials her father. “Why do you need to go out? We have coffee now, what else do you need?” He asks.

“I want fresh veggies from the market. I’d love to make something for dinner but all we have are like--lettuce and carrots.” She complains through a hand at the fridge in exasperation.

“Lettuce and carrots, fresh veggies! By the way! And you’re complaining.” She grabs his hands and gets right up to his chest.

“C’mon sweet husband of mine. Don’t you want to go out with your new bride?” She asks, jumping a little in excitement.

“Darlin’. Listen to me-- Yeah!” He answers his phone as her father calls him back.

“Hey Frank! You rang?”

“Yeah, your daughter wants to go out to the market right down the block. She wants to buy some veggies. I’m on my A game, sir. If you’re fine with it, I’ll take her.” He offers, shushing her with his hand clasping over her mouth. She looks at him with a smile, Frank feeling his heart swell.

“If you believe you can handle it, I don’t care if you two love birds go out.” Her father chuckles. “Put her on quick.” Frank puts the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” She asks.

“Hey baby. Listen to me. I don’t care if you two leave, but you have to stay at Frank’s side. You have to stay glued to him. You understand?” He asks into the phone, his expressions matching his words as if he were speaking to her face to face.

“Yeah, pop. Like glue. I love you!” She smiles into the phone, her father saying it back before they hang up.

“You ready?” He ruggs, offering her an elbow after letting her put on her white Gucci sneakers with her shorts and Frank’s sweatshirt. Sweater paw on his elbow, they leave arm in arm. His grips her hand as they step out. “Also, I’m Pete, your Honey.” He smiles, earning a half-upset look from her as they get into the elevator.

“Alright Pete.” She coos as they get into the car waiting for them. Driving them the two blocks, Frank gets out first, eyes scanning the perimeter. Finding nothing alarming, he nods to let her out. Her sweater paw reaches for his arm, but his hand cups high on her hip, pulling her against him as they walk through the market. “Aw hunny, over here! Some tomatoes! And some fresh basil, oregano, thyme, and ooh! Parsley!” As the two pay for their vegetables at each stand, Frank notices the man a few yards back, following them. Frank tries to hurry her along, but she’s intrigued by every stand and wants to look at everything. With two bags of veggies, a bag of chicken, and a grin as wide as Frank’s chest, he convinces her to get in the car just as the man reaches for her. Frank’s hand comes down hard and fast. When the man sees Frank’s face, his heart hits the floor and he turns, running away.

“Hunny, did that man just run the other direction?” She asks, looking to him as he shoves her into the car and they get into the apartment as fast he can. Once in the door, Frank’s hands graze over her body to be sure of no injuries, but she laughs it off.

Stepping into the kitchen, she opens the cupboard and heaves a sigh of relief.

“Thank god they brought cooking wine.” She assures, reaching but not quite grasping it. Climbing onto the counter and grabbing the wine bottle, her hand slips and she falls backwards but she and the wine bottle, never hit the floor.

“You are so clumsy.” He chuckles, righting her small frame and handing her the wine. “What are you making?” He asks, looking to her with a smirk.

“Chicken cacciatore, my nonna was the best at it, but I try my best.” She smiles shyly as she starts cooking.

As Frank takes his first bite, his eyes roll back and he moans. His reaction catches her offguard and she looks at him with a confused smile.

“It’s good. What can I say?” He shrugs, giving her a smile.

“Right, thank you.” She coughs, going back to eating her own. It didn’t taste like home but it almost did. She was happy to have it. She thinks back to earlier when the man trying to attack her saw Frank and ran away. It was remarkable yet a little unnerving. “Hey, Frank? Why did that man run away from you?” She asks as he takes a bite of dinner and looks up from his plate. His eyes are calculating, not sure what he should say. He assumed she knew about him. Since her father had found out, he assumed that she knew.

“I uh, I killed a lot of people. Bad people, but, still alot of people.” He wags his brows, holding his breath.

“How many?” She asks, taking another bite as if this were small talk.

“Thirty five.” He coughs, trying to disguise it. She looks up for a moment and a grin crosses her face.

“Wow, thirty five? My father’s record for one day is only ten.” She blabs, continuing to eat.

“It wasn’t in one day. I killed all the people responsible for my family’s deaths. Everyone.” He hushes, looking at her as she continues to eat. When she glances up, her eyes meet his and she gives an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Frank. Holy shit!” Her fork clatters to her plate and she jumps to her feet. “Frank Castle! Holy shit! Oh my god! You’re Frank Castle! Holy fuck.” She stammers over and over, staring at him with wide, loving eyes. “Sorry, most girls crush on celebrities, but not this one. I mean, you are a celebrity, a dead one. But still, wow. You are beautiful.” She coos, staring at him. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. Wow, Frank Castle. I gotta call Lyla! She’s never gonna believe this!” She crows like a teenage girl, fumbling for her phone. “We used to watch your news pieces and when you killed all those people in prison, amazing.” He plucks the phone from her hand and he laughs.

“No out calls.” He laughs, trying to compose himself.

“Oh come on! I just made the discovery of a century, and you won’t let me call my best friend?” Whining, she stamps a foot like a child and he gives her a half smirk.

“I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“Stop calling me that.” She huffs, her playfulness gone for a moment.

“Why?” He prods. A knock sounds at the door, making both of them jump. His hand grips her wrist across the table and he creeps around, putting her against the wall. Sneaking to the door, he looks through the peephole to see Lyla standing there, but instead of her giddy self, she’s rather squeemish, shifting from foot to foot, looking around nervously. Frank carefully opens the door, but it comes blasting in on him, sending him soaring into the couch.

“I’m sorry!” Lyla sobs as three grown Russian men shove in, grabbing Frank and throwing fist after fist into his face. Looking for her, one Russian reaches over the counter to grab her, but she stabs him with a knife in the arm. The man growls, yanking his arm back. Dislodging the knife, he tosses it aside to find she’s gone. Hunting for her while they kick Frank. A gun shot echoes and one of the Russians falls to the floor. Lyla stands with the gun in her hands, tears in her eyes as another Russian jumps on her, grabbing her by the hair and throwing her into the wall. Kat finds a gun in Frank’s bag and she shoots the large man beating on her best friend and just as she points the gun at the one on Frank, she sees the man’s dead body flop over onto another of the Russians. Frank rises to his feet, blowing air out his nose, blood spraying as he did so. Foot steps slow and calculated as he walks to Lyla, her scared whimpers enough to break Kat’s heart as Frank grabs the front of her shirt and drags her to her feet.

“You brought them here?” He growls low, his voice dark and feral.

“I-they were gonna kill my mom and me if I didn’t tell them.” She whimpers, tears falling down her face.

“And they almost killed you and her.” He barks, pointing to Kat, who stands in shock, quaking with a gun in her hand. Frank limps to her, slowly drawing the gun from her hands and placing it on the couch. “It’s okay.” He whispers, letting her drop her head to his shoulder. She hiccups and then sobs, gripping the back of his blood soaked shirt.

“Frank--you--you’re--” He covers her mouth with a bloody hand, shaking his head.

“I’m fine, darlin’.” She huffs and smiles, tears staining her cheeks. When her eyes lift over her shoulder, she sees the front door still wide open. Giving a shriek, she slips from his grip and slams the door, locking every deadbolt and chain before running back to Frank and gripping him tight.

“Frank, you-you’re bleeding.” She coos, carefully taking him to the couch. Appearing a moment later with a kit in her shaking hands. “Lyla, grab the bottle of rum from the cupboard. Also, it’s Frank fucking Castle!” She cheers as Lyla brings the bottle to her. When her eyes finally meet the man’s face she gasps.

“Holy shit. Your serial killer boyfriend is real.” She laughs, trying to calm her down. Taking a couple swigs from the bottle, she offers it to Frank.

“You want any?” She asks.

“Nah. Really I’m fine.” He hushes, letting his hands cover hers.

“Shut up, Frank.” She nips, swatting away his hands. Cleaning up his face, she puts a couple butterflies on the cut on his forehead, and a bandaid on the little ones on his cheek and chin.

“Darlin’ c’mon. Stop it.” He huffs, pushing her hands away. Jabbing a finger into his chest, earning a groan.

“Quit. Calling. Me. That.” She bites, clapping the kit closed and stomping to the bathroom to put it away.

“What’s her problem?” He huffs to himself, grabbing his cellphone and dialling her father.

“Yeah?”

“So the friend we thought we could trust, not so trustworthy. I need a discreet clean up crew.” He explains, when he sees her appear again. She hooks her arms under the man’s arms and drags him over to the pile of two more bodies and groans in disgust. “Hey, quit touching those.” He hushes, covering the mic on the phone.

“No! I want them gone.” She cries, tears starting to fall down her face.

“Ssh, it’s okay. Calm down.” He cuddles her against his strong body and coos in her ear.

“Clean up crew is on it’s way. Now, tell me my daughter is okay.” Her father’s voice calls to Frank.

“She’s fine, sir. She was cracking jokes earlier.” He chuckles, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“Good. The clean up crew is four men. They’ll bring a laundry cart up, say they’re here for pickup. You let them in.” Her father says as someone knocks on the door. She dives for the pistol and points it at the door, quaking as Frank carefully opens it to find a two laundry bins and four men.

“Sorry, she’s still scared.” He offers, reaching out and pulling the gun from her hands.

“It’s okay, sir. We just want to remove the bed bugs and get you cleaned up.” The man informs, putting the bodies into the carts and cleaning up in less than an hour. A deep breath escapes her as she sags against Frank, relaxed. His arm closes around her shoulder and he pats her clothed back.

Two Weeks go by, fun had by the two holed up in a small New York penthouse.

“Hey doll, I’m gonna head down for coffee. Don’t let anyone in, okay?” Frank’s gravelly voice washes over her for a moment as he walks through the door. “Lock all of these. I’ll knock twice and call out to you.” He smiles, patting her arm before stepping out and shutting the door. Frank listens as the door locks click, breathing out softly. He was nervous to leave but he hadn’t heard a sound, and there were other men posted outside the room and the building.

He gets to the bakery just down the street and orders her coffee, and his, getting a strawberry turnover with a little smile. Paying for the items, Frank looks at the bag and coffee cups in his hand and he gives a chuckle. He thought to himself, for a moment that he could have this. This life could be his. Getting coffee and turnovers in the morning like some kind of domesticated husband, the kind of husband he wanted to be for Maria. He chuckles, shaking his head. As he gets up the stairs, he sees two guards knocked out, laying in a pile.

“Shit.” Sprinting into room, the coffee hitting the tiled floor and splashing out, splattering up onto the bottom of the sofa where they sat comfortable in each others silence for almost four weeks. His eyes drop to the blood on the couch and the blood on the table, smeared like fingers grasping for the edge. His breath hitches, trying to breathe, but he can’t. “Kat! Kat!” He shouts, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Frank Castle. It is Castle, right?” A voice calls, and when he turns, he finds a small woman standing before him, Agent Madani.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He barks, voice low and eyes on hers like lasers.

“Saving your little girlfriend you’ve been playing house with. She’s safe. Undisclosed location. Thinks her father is in questioning. No worries, nothing incriminating. But, tell me, Frank. What would you do if I weren’t watching this place, huh? I need to make a deal with her father, but he needs to know it’s the FBI. He will go to a maximum security prison for the rest of his life, but he and his daughter will be safe. The safest she can be, which I think is a little important to you.” She informs, arms crossed over her chest, watching Frank stand there, his chest heaving.

“You have her? Is she under surveillance? Can I see her?” He barks, storming towards her like a black cloud.

“After you get me a meeting with her father, Gianno Lucciani.” She retorts, not letting up. Frank steps closer, hand gripped around Madani’s neck, ready to squeeze, but he doesn’t.

“I’ll see.” He whispers, yanking away the hand around her neck he grabs his phone, calling her father.

“Frank?”

“Yeah, Gianno. Listen to me, man. You gotta come down here to the safehouse.” Frank tries to be calm but his voice wavers slightly.

“Frank, what’s wrong?” He demands.

“There’s some FBI agents here. They’re questioning Kat. They want to cut you a deal. They said they’ll let Kat go when you’re here.” He informs.

“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes.” He barks, hanging up.

“You gotta handcuff me. When he gets here, he’s gotta think you busted in and got me down first. You’re gonna wanna bring Kat back in too.” He offers. “If his daughter isn’t here, he’ll kill everyone in here if he doesn’t see her face.” He shrugs, putting his hands behind his back and letting them cuff him. They cuff his ankles too for good measure and just as they drop him onto the ground her father comes bursting into the door.

“My daughter.” He growls, gun jammed into Madani’s head. “Unlock him. He’s just her bodyguard. Pete Castliglione. You’re name is Pete right? Why is he handcuffed?” He barks, jabbing a finger at Frank on the floor.

“Yeah, listen, Madani knows. I’m Frank fuckin’ Castle. Okay? We need to see Kat now.” He barks as they take the cuffs off.

“Bring her in.” Madani calls, waving to a couple agents as they head out, returning with his sweet Kat.

“Shit.” He whispers as she piles into him, clinging to him like a lifeboat in the middle of a raging sea.

“Frank, Frank. They broke in. They-the government. They took me to a room. Questioned me. Frank, I--”

“Ssh. Ssh. Ssh. It’s okay, darlin’.” He whispers, her father stepping out into the hallway with Madani.

“Frank I said--”

“Don’t call you that, but it’s important today. Okay?” He coos, grabbing her and kissing her forehead. Her father walks in just in time to see Frank holding her tight against him. His big arms wrapped around her, making her look small and frail.

“Kat, baby, you okay?” She twists around in Frank’s grip. As he starts to let go, her hands grip tightly to his forearms and she chokes on a sob.

“It’s okay. I’m right behind you.” He coos, tugging his arms away as she stumbles to her father.

“Baby, you’re okay. Listen, daddy’s gonna be going away for a while. Okay?” He coos calmly, as if he’s still talking to the same little girl from twenty years ago.

“Daddy, what--”

“The government woman is--”

“Quit talking to me like a child!” She shrieks, screaming at him and stamping her foot.

“I’m taking your father into custody for all the money laundering, the murders of five men, and for running a drug ring underground that we now have you admitting to.” Madani informs loudly as they cuff her father and start walking him down, out into the parking lot. “Put a vest on her, call it protection, whatever you need to do to put her into safety. We’ll shoot her. Take her as crossfire. The Russians and the Cartel will be down there. He’s safest in prison. And we’ll get him there. I need Frank removed safely. Once we’re out of here, they’ll load her into a body bag and get her somewhere safe with Frank. No one tip off Frank or the father. If they know something’s up they’ll take her, whether they think she’s alive or not.” She informs her agents as they load Frank and her father into cars. When she screams at them, the firing of pistols and semi-automatic hand guns fills the air.

“No! Daddy!” She screams, running to the car, but as the car pulls away, an agent strategically shoots her in the chest twice, Frank’s heart hitting the concrete.

“No!” He cries, shaking violently in his cuffs as he tries to get out. Slamming his head into the window, he doesn’t even crack it.

“No! My baby!” Her father screams, following Frank’s actions. They leave her lying on the concrete, tears falling down his face more and more as he fights harder. Madani draws Frank from the car and drags him kicking, into another building.

“Listen!” She shouts over Frank’s heavy, deafening breathing.

“Madani, let me outta these goddamn handcuffs or I swear on Christ I’ll kill everyone in here. You too.” He growls low and hard, his eyes dark burning into the agent as she stands her ground.

“Frank. Frank, calm down.” She coos as they roll a stretcher in with a body bag. “Frank, her father’s going to a white collar prison, he’ll be safe. Frank. Calm down. I’m gonna take these off but please--”

“The bag. What’s in the bag!?” He screams. As the cuffs come off, his hands wrap around Madani’s throat, squeezing until hse’s gripping at his hands, his knuckles white.

“Frank?” Her soft voice takes his breath from his lungs and he drops Madani on the floor, her gasping just quietly in the background. “Frank I’m right here.” She whispers, rising from her bag like a zombie.

“Darlin’. Baby girl. Holy shit.” He whispers, gripping her and holding her against him.

“Frank, my dad. My dad, he thinks I’m--”

“Your father thinks you are dead, and that’s the safest thing for him to think right now. He’s going to a good prison, where he’ll be safe, but he wanted you as safe as possible, and if he, the Russians, and the Cartel believe that his only daughter is dead you are in no danger.” Madani explains, giving her a soft smile.

“My father thinks his only daughter is dead! He’s being arrested and sent to a prison? Frank?” She looks at him with betrayal twinkling in her eyes and Frank chokes, grunting at the pain. She’d never looked at him like that before. “Did you know?”

“Yeah.” He whispers.

“You knew? You helped them?” She cries, grabbing his shirt and shaking him.

“It isn’t what it looks like. You’re father--”

“Your father needed to be safe, and taking him into a facility where the cartel and Russians can’t get him is as safe as he can be.” Madani tries to explain. Kat turns, a fire in her eyes that Frank might’ve been scared of any other day. He folds his arms around her, constricting like a boa, holding steadfast as she begins to kick and hit, screaming at the top of her lungs for Frank to let go.

“I’m gonna kill you, bitch! I’m gonna kill you!” She screams, kicking and slapping at Frank’s stony arms. “Let go of me!” She cries, pushing his arms away and running for the door.

“No! Don’t go out there!” Madani yells. “There’s a Russian mob and a mexican Cartel being arrested right now with the help of your father’s information and willingness to cooperate.” She stops in her tracks and faces Frank.

“You-you knew about this?” She whispers, shaking her head in disbelief. “I trusted you, Frank.” Shaking hands run through her hair as she stands near the door, unsure of what to do. “Frank, how could you?”

“Hun, I just-I wanted to keep you safe. You’re father asked for safety. This is the best I could offer him. I’m sorry.” He explains.

“Me too.” She grabs the handle of the warehouse and walks out into the daylight, pushing her way through the throng of curious eyes and speculating lips.

“Kathryn?” A voice calls, and when she turns, a gun is jabbed into her side she knows she’s messed up. “If you move or set off that Castle, I’ll kill ya for real this time.” The thick Russian accent gruff and low in her ear.

“Eyes on the bait! Eyes on the bait. Moving southeast with a russian, six feet five inches, short black hair, two tattoos on his hands, can’t make out what they say. Getting into a van now, license plate echo-six-bravo-nine-two-eight.” Frank listens quietly before he grabs the nearest gun and charges out the door.

Eyes scanning the vans, he sees one pull away from the curb and follows it.

“Castle is on the move.” Madani calls into the mic.

Frank sets into a sprint as he follows the van. Getting into the warehouse, he listens to hear her give a scream.

“Tell us about Frank Castle.” He growls, stabbing a small pering knife into her thigh. Crying out, she looks around and something about the empty warehouse didn’t feel empty.

“I don’t know any Frank. And that’s saying something, I’m Italian.” She giggles through harsh breaths as he slaps her. The crack across her face sends Frank into a frenzy of rage, killing every man but the man who stands between him and Kat.

“Pete!” She exclaims, rattling the chair legs on the ground. The Russian man’s eyes fall to where hers are locked he raises his brows, gulping audibly.

“Castle.” He growls, looking to Frank as his eyes narrow and he tries to put on a dangerous front. When his eyes meet Frank’s he finds something feral there, something predatory, and he steps back. Frank raises a gun, shooting the man between the shoulder and heart, dropping him on the ground. Gasp. Gasp. Frank ignores the man as he draws Kat from the chair.

“You okay?” He coos, leaving her with a giggle on her busted lips.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Punisher.” She laughs as she hugs his neck, pressing sweet little kisses to his cut face. Frank Castle, the Punisher, New York’s scariest vigilante, and yet these arms that had strangled, hands that killed were comforting her; they were carressing her body with such comfort that tears fell down her face. “Are you okay?”

“I just--I’m so mad at you, but I love you.” She whispers, sniffling. He sucks in a sharp breath.

“You mean that?” He coos as he walks her to his car. Stiffening, he looks at her rigid form and stops them, looking to her with a grin.

“I--”

“I love you too.” He assures, kissing her forehead as he meets Madani at the a roof top across town. Pulling into a parking garage, he leads her to the roof where Madani waits, a small bag in her hands.

“This is yours.” She hands the bag to Kat with a smiling nod. Skeptical and mad, she snatches the bag and hands it to Frank without a second glance.

“No, darlin’. It’s for you.” He smiles, handing it back. Glaring at the bag, she tugs it back to her and opens it. Drawing out it contents, she reads over them carefully.

‘Marriage Certificate

Katalina Jane Foster and Peter Michael Castiglione

Were married at Wilson City Courthouse

July 15th, 2010’

Among the items in the bag was a social security card with her new name, and a driver’s license, passport, and the deed to a house in Atlanta, Georgia. Frank looks at her with a smile.

“Well what if I didn’t want to marry you?” She asks with a challenging smirk.

“Then I’d have to take this back.” He pops open small, velvety red ring box, exposing a dainty piece of silver jewelry with pretty little blue sapphires in it. With a huge grin on her face, she jumps into his waiting arms and kisses his face. Madani watches on with a smile as Frank loads his new bride into a car and they drive away.

[davidlikesguys02]

On A Very Special Episode...

M/n= Male name

word count= 2,847

GIF not mine also just Imagine that's you and Vision.

You're pacing around the living room rocking Tommy “Sweet, sweet Tommy, don't you wanna sleep? Daddy wants to sleep.” you sigh “if you go to sleep, I promise you will be my favorite twin.” behind you Vision is coming down the stairs “oh, come on now, darling. You know we love them both equally.” “Well, don't tell him that” Vision chuckles. “No luck with Billy”

“Tried reading to him, but for some reason, Charles Darwin’s the descent of man made him crying even harder. Oh. care to dance, darling?” “oh” you both chuckle. “It's almost like we're on a date.” “mm! Keep it down, lads, I was about to get my leg over.” you chuckle. “Vis?” “Hmm” “would you mind grabbing their binkies?” “Oh of course not. Binkies all round, I think” you and Vision set the twins down in their cribs.

Vision walks towards the kitchen “Now, I know parents aren't supposed to take shortcuts, but I think this situation calls for one, don't you?” the babies continue crying “so, go to sleep, my babies.” you move your hand but nothing happens “and go to sleep” you try again. The twins begin giggling “well, I don't think its very funny. Why won't you do what I want?”

“What's that, dear?” the babies start to cry again, you turn to see Vision has the binkies in his ears “that is not where those go” you grab the binkies and clean them “noise cancellation is not their primary function?” you put the binkies on the babies mouth and they stop crying “look, I think it's..” the twins shoot them out and start crying again.

“Vis?” “Mm” “what are we doing wrong?” “Oh don't worry dear.” Vision kisses your forehead “well figure it out. Perhaps we all need more time to get to know one another.” “maybe. Or maybe we just need some help.” the doorbell rings. “Oh” Vision walks over to the sofa and grabs a pillow to cover himself. “Hiya, kids” Agnes entered through the door.

“Oh, Agnes!” “Agnes, I was just fluffing this pillow. With my face” “oh, I was on my way to Jazzercise when i heard your new little bundles of joy were on a sleep strike.” “oh? Who told you that?” Vision asked, “uh, my ears.” Agnes chuckles, “Anyway, Auntie Agnes is here and I've got a couple of tricks up my sleeve?” “oh Agnes you're a lifesaver.” “aw”

“Very well. But be careful of their belly buttons and remember to support their heads, and when was the last time you washed... Actually, you know what? It would be... Just... Maybe we better not.” the babies continue to cry, Agnes turns to you “um...uh… Do you want me to take that again?” you turn to look at Vision and turn back to look at Agnes “uh… I'm sorry?” “You want me to hold the babies. Should we just take it from the top?”

Vision chuckles awkwardly “what?” you chuckle “oh don't be silly. Vision, lets… let's let Agnes give it a try.” you chuckle nervously “fussy babies, meet buns of steel. We dare you to stay awake” Agnes and you both chuckle. “M/n” Vision motions for you to follow him “what was that about?” “what was what?” “what was what? That, that with Agnes just now.” you turn to look at Agnes and see that she's rocking the twins

“Well, I think she just got confused for a moment. She seems fine now.” you turn back to look at Vision “but what she said, the way she looked at you?” “how did she look at me?” “well, I dint… oh.” you turn back to look at Agnes she was spraying something over the twins “Lavender. It's supposed to have a calming effect. Ralph sprays it on me every night. But there's no taming this tiger..” she chuckles “it's so strange”

You start to whisper “that's not fair. It's not Agnes fault that she has an unusually high libido” “M/n did you really not see what I saw?” there's a thud behind you two “oh. Don't mind me. I'm just looking for your dark liquor.” “what?” “not for me. For the twins. What kind of babysitter do you think I am? I'm just gonna go and check in there”

You turn to Vision “Vision, the boys haven't slept in days. You and I both need a break and Agnes is just being neighborly, that's all.” the twin’s stopped crying “do you hear that?” “hear that?” “absolutely nothing” you gasp, Vision takes your hand and you two walk over to the cribs, “they finally fell asleep” “they're empty” “then where are the twins” “dad?, daddy?” you gasp “huh”

Agnes sighs “kids” she chuckles “you can't control em. No matter how hard you try” “well, hi” “hi” both you and Vision say “how are you doing, baby?” “aw”

You wander the world with a vision Of what life could be But then the years come and teach you To just wait and see Forces may try to pull us apart But nothing can phase me If you're in my heart Crossing our fingers, singing a song We're making it up as we go along Through the highs and the lows We'll be right, we'll be wrong We're making it up as we go along And there will be days We won't know which way to go But we'll take it higher You're all I desire When the going gets tough When push comes to shove We're making it up 'Cause we got love We got love We got love We got love Baby, we got... M/nVision

You walk around your house looking for Tommy and Billy. “Tommy, Billy?” you walk through the door and see Tommy and Billy standing in the kitchen “you know, I don't miss the crying, but jeez Louise, did you have to learn to walk? You two never stay put. Unless you're innocently forming a human wall in front of the kitchen sink.” someone sneezes “bless you” “Thank you” both Tommy and Billy say.

There's a soft bark “now tell me which one of you just barked? Scoot'' you gasp “oh, boy. waiter , what's this canine doing in my kitchen sink?” you turn to look at the twins “the doggy paddle?” “Can we keep him, daddy?” “Well, I'm sure his owners miss him very much. Come on.” you grab a towel and grab the dog and start to dry them “huh. There really is no collar?” “Can we keep him?”

“He was outside. Crying, alone.” “Now, boys, taking care of a living thing is a big responsibility. Dogs need food, exercise, training, belly rubs, and cuddles. And kisses between their little ears.” “morning, M/n. morning, boys.” you show Vision the dog “Good morning, unfamiliar wet animal.” you chuckle “who is this?” “we're not quite sure. Why so formal, honey?”

“Oh, it's just a precaution really. I had a hunch someone might pop over.” the back door opens and Agnes walks through “hi, kiddos” “with exactly the item we require” “my kitchen window told me someone got a new pooch.” the dog starts barking “did you name him yet?” the dog starts sniffing an outlet “how about sniffy” “oh” Agnes chuckles. Sparks start to come from the outlet causing the dog to yelp and run away. “How about sparky?”

You chuckle and hold out your hand “well, should we make it official?” you move your hand and a dog collar appears tommy takes the collar from you. “M/n” “hmm” “Agnes was right there!” “Well, she didn't notice. She didn't even notice when the boys went from babies to five-year-old's” “that's not what we agreed upon. You made no effort to conceal your abilities.”

“Well, I'm tired of hiding, Vis. and maybe you don't have to either.” you take your hand and start to crease his cheek “M/n, we are usually so much of the same mind. But right now… what aren't you telling me?” “so, is sparky our dog, daddy?” Tommy asks Vision “what?” Sparky starts to whimper.

“Boys, your father and I don't think you're ready to properly care for an animal until you're at least…” you turn to Vision “Ten” he coughs “Ten” “ten years old” you show them 10 fingers. The twins look at each other and smile “wait, now hang on there a minute…” “wait, no, no, no.” “...you young whippersnappers.” “no, no, no” you gasp as the twins age up. “Lets just hope this dog stays the same size.” Agnes chuckles “woof, woof”

You're in the living room with Tommy sitting next to you on the sofa “sit, Sparky. Now spin. Good boy” “oh bravo, Billy you weren't so bad either, Sparky” you and Tommy both clap “that's was radical. Where's dad? We gotta go show dad!” Tommy got up and walked towards the kitchen Billy followed behind him. “Oh, hes… hes at work” “huh?” “It's Saturday” the twins turn to look at you “no, it's not. It's Monday” “this morning was Saturday.”

“There was an emergency at the office and your father had to go in. end of story. look , he just… he needed a distraction.” “from what?” “from us?” “no! No way! No” you get up from the sofa and walk over to them “sometimes” you start to walk them over to the sofa so you can sit “your dad and I aren't on the same page, but that's just temporary. Like the two of you, you might fight over toys, but he's always going to be your brother. And he is always going to be yours. Because family is forever.”

“Do you have a brother dad?” “I do. Yeah he's far away from here. And it makes me sad sometimes.” Sparky begins to bark and he runs toward the door. “Hey , sparky, what's up boy?” sparky begins to growl “something scaring him” “stay here” you tell the twins and walk outside. You see a drone and you can hear a voice “M/n this is captain Monica Rambeau. Can you hear me? I just want to talk. That's it.” you look up at the drone and your eyes begin to glow red.

You use your powers to take the drone down and you grab it and start walking towards the outskirts of Westview. You can see the force field you put around the town and start to walk through it. You come out on the other side to see a camp of some sorts. “Is this yours?” you throw the drone at Haywards feet, you can still see your powers covering the drone. They have men and women armed around pointing their guns at you.

“The missile was just a precaution. You can hardly blame us. M/n” “oh, I think I can. This will be your only warning. Stay out of my home.” “I wish it could be that simple. You've taken an entire town hostage.” “Well, I'm not the one with the guns, Director.” “but you are the one in control.” “you're still here?” you start to see the red ball of energy around your hand.

“M/n, I didn't know the drones were armed. But you know that, don't you?” she begins to walk towards you “A town full of civilians. And you, a telepath, brought a S.W.O.R.D. Agent into your home. You trusted me to help deliver your babies. On some level, M/n, you know I am an ally. I wanna help you.” “how? What could you possibly have to offer me?”

“What do you want?” “I have what I want and no one” you look at Hayward “will ever take it from me again” you raise your arm and see the familiar red glow around the armed men. They all turn their guns at Hayward and you start to walk away. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa stand down!” “M/n” “Stand down”

you use your powers to change the force field you put around making it glow red you turn around one last time and walk through again.

“Sparky! Come on boy!” “sparky, sparky” you're walking around with the twins looking for sparky. “hey , what's the trouble little dudes?” “we can't find our dog” “ah, don't worry. He's sure to turn up. Your dad wont let him get far. Sir.” “I don't know where he could've gone” you tell the twins “here, boy, Sparky! Sparky!” you hear some rustling near some bushes “Sparky”

Agnes pops up holding something that appears to be wrapped “sparky”. Agnes sighs “I… I didn't wanna come until id wrapped him up.” “What happened to him?” you ask “found him in my azalea bushes. Don't know how many leaves he ate. I didn’t find him until it was too late. Oh…. Tommy. Billy, I'm so sorry.” you turn to look at the twins and see them looking at each other and nodding.

“Wait. Don't. Don’t” they look at you “don't what?” “don't age yourselves up. The urge to run from this feeling is powerful. I know.” “It's too sad” “you can fix anything, Dad. fix the dead.” “what? no” “you can do that?” you turn to look at Agnes and turn back to the twins “I am trying to tell you that there are rules in life, okay? We can't rush aging just because it's convenient.” you chuckle “And we can't reverse death. No matter how sad it makes us. Okay? Some things are forever.”

You can hear Agnes sigh behind you “you said family is forever.” “He is family. Bring him back, dad” “bring who back?” Vision looks over at Agnes “oh, boys. Come here” the twins walk over and hug Vision. Later you are picking up some toys and you turn to see Vision walk through the back door. “How are the boys?”

“A little heartbroken, but they'll be alright” “well, it's not often you get a dog and bury them the same day.” “Well, life moves pretty fast out in the suburbs.” you grab the basket of toys and take it over to the counter “I spoke with Norm” “Oh?” you look over at him confused. “I unearthed the man's suppressed personality and spoke to him free of your oversight. He was in pain, M/n”

“Vision…” you chuckle softly “listen, can we just…” “what? Watch tv? Turn in for the night so you can change everything over again? No, M/n. you can't control me the way you do to them” you look at him “Can’t I? I'm going to bed” “no! We're not done here. What is the Maximoff Anomaly?”

“The what?” “I have to believe that this, whatever this is, was subconsciousness at first and you only recently became aware of it.” “aware of what?” you walk out of the kitchen “Norm has a family, M/n” “he has a family, and he can't reach them because you won't let him reach them!” “I don't know what you're talking about” you turn to look at him. “Stop lying to me!” Vision begins to float.

The familiar red glow around your hand appears and you begin to float in front of him “This, all of this is for us. So let me handle it.” “What is outside of Westview?” “you don't wanna know, i promise you.” “you don't get to make that choice for me M/n” he points at you “you've never talked to me like this before” you start to slowly fall back to the ground.

“Before what?” Vision raises his Voice “before what? I can't remember my life before Westview. I don't know who I am! I'm scared!” you look up at him “you are my husband, you are Tommy and Billy’s father. Isn't that enough.” Vision slowly comes down “M/n, why are there no other children in Westview.” you walk over to the sofa and sit down “oh, god. There are just stop it.”

“No. no. the playground stands empty every morning I walk to work. Why? Tell me why?” “ Do you really think that I am controlling everything? That I am somehow in charge of everybody in Westview? I'm walking their dogs, mowing their lawns, getting them to dentist appointments on time? I mean, I…” you chuckle dryly ”I don't know how any of this started in the first place.”

“M/n, what you're doing here, it's wrong” he walks around and kneels in front of you “I…” “It's wrong” the doorbell rings, getting the attention of you and Vision “I didn't do that. I… you don't believe me.” “M/n, i want to, but at this point, I'm ignoring statistics entirely.” the doorbell rings a second time you get up and walk over to the door. You open the door, and are shocked “M/n who is this?”

“Long lost bro gets to squeeze his stinking brother to death or what?” “Pietro?” he nods, he opens his arms and you and hug him “who's the popsicle?” he points and Vision.