#papa benny

[dykedvonte]

You walk into the Presidentail Suite to confront Benny and he’s playing Papa’s Wingeria on Yes- Man’s screen and sucking so bad on the sauce section.

[laniusbignaturals]

Faction leaders + Whisper Memes

Credits

[holding-monsters-hands]

absolutely loved the AM with a child!reader 🥺🥺🥺 but I'm curious!!! what if child!reader stumbles upon the survivors? how would they react and what would AM do? that type of stuff!!!

THIS IS A FUN ONE OOH

ID JUST LOVE TO SAY I ADORE RHIS CONTENT HEUGH,, like it feels nice to create an ideal father figure and just.. See a slightly healthier version of AM.

warning: Mentions of ellen’s miscarriage.

The survivors meeting child reader + AM’s reaction

The survivors:

YOU CAN BET YOUR ASS BENNY AND ELLEN ADORE YOU.

The others however, are a bit skeptical- how do they know this isn't one of AM’s tricks? Ted especially, refuses to go near you at first.

In fact he even scolds ellen for scooping you up into her arms so quickly.

“Oh but ted it’s just a kid! lighten up a little, they’re not hurting anyone.” she’d smile, lightly pinching your cheek.

I think she’d instantly go into mom-mode, you’d make her think of the baby she could’ve had. :,3

Though of course it wouldn’t take long for everyone (minus ted) to warm up to you, it’s been a long time since they’ve seen a kid!

Benny would happily give you piggy back rides, and would be the most protective of you out of the whole group.

Gorrister would be that fun, grumpy grandpa! Y’know the kind that tell you stories, bounce you on their knee, and ruffle your hair!

AM:

HE LOSES HIS SHIT

He doesn’t know where you are at first so he inspects the whole area from head to toe, until he hears your giggling and.. laughter from the survivors.

He immediately grabs you up in his cords, holding you tight against one of his monitors as he ‘glares’ down at the humans below.

“How dare you all lay your fingers on them! This child belongs to me, I should rip you all apart for your stupidity!”

However, upon feeling your tiny hands gently pat his screen- he calms, the sound of him deeply breathing in, before releasing a heavy sigh echoes within the room.

since you had so much fun, and because he’d rather not traumatize your developing brain with the sight of human torture- he lets them off the hook.

And hey, maybe you can convince him to let you see your new playmates again!

and you might just get ted to warm up to you eventually, maybe.

[quicksilverdaisyday]

realizing now that i don’t think i ever shared bonnie’s little sister… this is maria :) i wonder which parent named her /s

[bennwazzhere]

I want to have butt booty sex with Benn Beckman

NOT MY ART!!!!

[undeadcourier]

So where was the Red Hands raiding territory? And how did they interact with the Fiends, Khans, Vipers and Jackals?

For some background: Cal is from San Antonio, Texas, originally. I imagine sea levels would rise along the coastal prairies, possibly submerging Houston (or parts of it—city on stilts kinda thing), and Cal spent his youth as a pirate in the gulf and raiding along the gulf coastal plains following the I35 and I10. He'd meet Jovita, and they'd strike out on their own, establishing the Red Hands as they moved west, following the I10 to El Paso. They'd raid smaller settlements and caravans or do some brahmin rustling on drives closer to major cities where the markets would be.

As the gang grew and as they approached/entered Legion territory, their notoriety swelled since raiding (well, from non-legionnaires, anyway) was virtually unheard of in Caesar's Empire, and they were obliged to push west into the Mojave where pickings were easier. They raided in the northwest San Bernardino county area until Lanius caught up with them, and we know how that went....

After Lanius, Cal intends to rebuild the gang and recruits any Jackals, Vipers, and Powder Gangers who are willing to join him. He learns about the Platinum Chip from some of his contacts in Vegas and sees it as an opportunity to gain a foothold in the north, in Fiend territory.

I had the idea of him usurping the position & taking the base of another raider leader around Vegas, and originally was going to have that be another oc gang, but Motor-Runner/Vault 3 fit in nicely with what I had in mind. Haven't worked out all the details yet, but basically, Motor-Runner dies, and any Fiends willing to accept the change in management can join the Red Hands.

Once he deals with Benny and discovers the true value of the Chip, Cal himself uses the Lucky 38 as a secondary base with the Red Hands operating out of Vault 3.

Cal would want to work with the Khans as well, and since the Red Hands don't involve themselves in any significant capacity in the chem trade, they won't end up stepping on each other's toes too much. Cal convinces Papa Khan to ally with him rather than the Legion, and post Hoover Dam, they can send the NCR packing.

[jaja-dingdong]

Commento vincitore di oggi

[paceypeternathanslawyer]

El’s speech here is so fucking powerful!!!! The absolute nerve of Brenner here... the abuse.... the manipulation. You can see the large amount of delusion that Brenner allowed himself to believe in order for him to feel better about himself. So that he wouldn’t feel like the abusive psychopath that he is!!! 

Everything that has happened in Hawkins can be traced back to one man. Hawkins being destroyed, Eddie’s death, Bob’s death, Barb’s death, Benny’s death, Alexei’s death, all the deaths of the kids in the lab, Hopper being imprisoned, Max being in a coma, El’s abuse, Kali’s abuse, all the other numbers abuse, their lost childhoods spent without the love of their parents and being able to play outside and see the beauty. Everything bad that has happened in Stranger Things can be traced back to Brenner and he has the nerve to blame El and insinuate that she should be guilty! Fuck off Brenner!

[loliwrites]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjoSkKNh/

They are your guys, right?! I hope i didn't get the other one wrong because i only know who Pedro is 🤭

My two boysssssss in one videooooo ❤️😍

Hunniiii, you know I love my sweet baby Benny Schwa. And Pedro’s giggle is so infectious 💀

[amplexi]

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[roxygen22]

Paper

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Summary: Reader and Willy discover that Ben/Bean is an aspiring artist. Age: 3 & 17

<><><><><>

You were outside hanging clothes on the line to dry when you heard the back door slam and little feet running toward you. Before your brain could register what was happening, you were nearly bowled over by the force of Ben running into your leg.

You looked down to find that Ben had buried his face and balled up his fists in your skirt. "Pa ell a mm," you heard his garbled speech muffled by the fabric. You knelt down and pried his fingers loose so you could look at his red, tear-streaked face.

"I'm sorry, Benny. I couldn't understand you when your mouth was covered. Take a deep breath." You inhaled deeply through your nose and out through your mouth a couple of times, motioning for him to copy you. "Good. Now, try again. What's all this about?"

"P-papa lelled at m-meeee." The boy started sobbing again.

"Oh dear. What happened?"

"I..." he sucked in a breath. "I wanted to dwaw him a picture. I saw paper on Papa's desk..."

"Ah, I see. Did that paper already have words on it?"

"Only on fwont. I dwew on back."

"Oh, Benny. We talked about asking before you touch anything in the study. Papa has very important papers in there for the shop and factory."

"I'm sowwy." He looked up at you with big puppy-dog eyes. You cupped his round cheeks in your hands.

"I know you are. But I'm not the one you need to apologize, too. Why don't you go inside to your room and play while I go check on Papa. After that, you can tell him you're sorry." Ben nodded, then shuffled through the back door to his room with his head hung low.

It was out of character for Willy to snap at anyone. The man typically had the patience of a saint, so you knew Ben must have drawn on something important. You quietly stepped into the study and spied Willy slumped in the armchair, one hand supporting his forehead and one foot kicked out. It looked as if he had collapsed dramatically into it.

"I made him cry," Willy said morosely without looking up. "I didn't- I didn't mean to. I shouted his name. I was just trying to get his attention and stop him before he did more damage. I...I startled him, and he ran off to you."

"Full name or nickname?" you asked as you sat on the sofa next to him.

"Full name," he groaned.

You grimaced. Ouch, you thought. Willy hardly ever referred to the boy as anything but Bean and almost never as Benjamin unless introducing him to others. It's on par with your mother using your middle name when you were in trouble. You shuddered slightly. That probably wounded Ben worse than the volume. "What did he draw on?"

Willy held up the face page of a contract with the hand not supporting his head. He had yet to look up at you.

"Oh dear."

"I'll ask Beth to type up a new one tomorrow before the meeting. It wasn't worth raising my voice at him. I...I just had a long day and...of course, that doesn't excuse anything. Is he okay?"

"He'll be alright," you said soothingly as you placed your hand on Willy's arm. "He's calming down in his room. Like you said, he was startled. You are usually the fun one, not the disciplinarian."

"I should go to him," Willy said as he stood from the chair. You returned to your previous task of hanging out the laundry so they could have some time alone to make amends.

Willy walked to Ben's room and gently knocked before pushing the door open. Ben looked up at him from his desk with big sad eyes.

"Hey there," Willy said softly.

"I dwew you another picture. I'm sowwy, Papa," Ben said pitifully as he handed Willy a piece of paper.

"Oh, Bean. Is this the factory?" Ben nodded excitedly. "Wow, such great detail! Is this what you wanted to draw earlier?" Ben nodded again, with less exuberance this time. Willy's heart broke as he saw his son's face fall.

"Hey, buddy. I'm sorry for raising my voice and scaring you. That was a very important paper you were drawing on, and I needed you to stop."

"I know, Mamma told me I need to ask first," he responded dejectedly. "I just had a picture in my head that I wanted to dwaw when I was by your desk."

"Ah, that I understand. Sometimes my ideas don't come to me at convenient times, either. Tell you what. How about I set up a drawer with paper that's safe to draw or write on whenever an idea strikes. You never have to ask for permission as long as it's from that drawer. Deal?"

Ben's face lit up again, and he stuck his tiny right hand to shake. "Deal!"

Willy shook his son's hand with his right and looked down again at the picture in his left. It was incredibly well done for Ben's age.

"Can I take this to the factory with me? I want to frame and hang it. If you draw more, I'll have a whole gallery wall of Benjamin Wonka works."

Ben giggled, "Okay, Papa!"

<><><><><>

Over time, Ben's art skills matured to charcoals, watercolors, canvases, and paints. Willy spotted the talent early and took great pleasure in encouraging it, supplying it. Fourteen years later, he had indeed collected enough of Ben's work to fill multiple walls.

"People need to see this."

Willy decided to surprise Ben by converting one of his shops into a limited time art gallery for his 17th birthday. He somehow managed to promote what ended up being the town's social event of the season while also keeping it a secret from his boy.

It was finally the night of the big reveal. "Papa, why are we going to the shop so late? I thought we were going to meet Mamma and Charlie for dinner?" Ben walked shoulder to shoulder with Willy. They were nearly the same height now.

Willy was vibrating with excitement. "I just need to pick up something I left there," he bent the truth slightly. "Your birthday present."

When they arrived, Willy unlocked the doors to reveal a magenta velvet curtain blocking the entry. He took the gold pull cord in his hand and handed it to Ben.

Ben looked at the tassel in his hand, bewildered. "What is this?"

"Your gift! Pull it and find out." As Ben pulled the cord, the curtain drew back to reveal...

"Surprise!!"

Ben stood there with his mouth ajar as he looked around at you, Charlotte, Noodle, his friends and girlfriend. Everyone rushed him for a celebratory hug. He gave you a kiss on the cheek. Then, the background details caught his eye. The crowd separated as Ben made his way to look at the walls that were now decorated with his paintings rather than shelves of candies and chocolates.

He browsed in awe until he stopped at the penciled sketch of the Wonka factory, gently tracing the golden frame with his fingers. He felt Willy step up beside him and gently squeeze his shoulder.

"Happy birthday, Bean."

Ben looked over his shoulder to reveal misty eyes. "Thanks for always being my biggest fan, Papa," he said reverently.

"I'm glad I could be right here beside you when your talent is shared with the world."

<><><><><>

A/N: I think it's safe to say that Willy would be his kids' biggest cheerleaders.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

[certainlynotasimp]

Hiiiii can you do another miggy x sunny family story like maybe they meet all the kids or like just daily lives the other one was really good

Father’s Day

((Miguel O’Hara X Female Reader))

A/N: Hello~✨ I’m just using your ask as an excuse to make a Father’s Day post. I’m so sorry, I promise they will meet. Here’s a look into Earth 1784-B Miggy and Sunny with everyone’s favorite character, Maria.

A/N: This can be read alone, but if you want to read more and get some context, check out my Masterlist. Feel free to join the discord if you guys just wanna come and chat.

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine??, Female Reader/Female Pronouns, No use of Y/N, Fluff, Sibling Fluff/ Bickering, Deepl Spanish Translations, and Short.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Earth 1784-B

The scurrying of feet along the hallway causes the man to groan as he feels around for his wife, only to end up feeling nothing. His eyes crack open as he looks around the bright bedroom as the noises in the hallway turn into hurried whispers. Suspicion perks up as he sits up and grabs his phone off the side table. The image of his family appears on the screen with bright smiles showing him the answer to his worries with a familiar date on the screen.

It was Father’s Day. His favorite/ least favorite holiday. He chuckles as he figures that his adorable wife would force him to the familiar routine he’s made to endure every year since they had Maria all those years ago. He smiles at the memory of his firstborn being placed on his chest as his wife made him breakfast in bed. The creak of the door opening causes the man to peek at the intruder who squeals when those matching eyes meet his doe eyes. Ben giggles as his father raises an eyebrow at him and a quiet, “Good Morning, Papa.”

“Good Morning, Benny,” He smiles at his youngest child as he motions for him to come closer. “What’s your Mama and your partners in crime have planned?”

The boy crawls into bed with his dad and sits beside him on the pillows. His messy dark hair curls his ears with obvious signs of sleep still on his face as he mutters, “Mama and Maria told me not to tell you. Gabriel said he would throw away my legos again.”

Miguel chuckles and gently brushes the messy curls back. “He won’t, bud.” He reassures him. “If he does, I’ll make sure he buys you a new set.”

Before the young boy could respond, the door creaks open again the oldest son grumbles something along the lines of, “Becareful before you spill it, Mensa” Stupid

Maria follows in and glares at her younger brother with a tray of food in her hands. Before she could curse him out, their mother pops them both with an envelope with a scolding look in her eyes.

“Behave.” She scolds before smiling at an awake Miguel. “Good Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

Miguel chuckles at the nickname before his daughter places the tray onto his lap with a sheepish smile. The plate had slightly burnt blue berry pancakes with slightly over cooked bacon and eggs. Not exactly like how his wife normally cooks this annual breakfast, but Maria softly apologizes.

“Sorry it’s a little over cooked, Papa. Gabriel wasn’t watching the pancakes-!”

“I was watching them! You’re just a contro-“ The boy interrupts before getting popped again with the envelope.

“You two quit it!” Their cheery mother fusses. “You have 363 days to fight, this is one of two you don’t fight on.”

“Sorry Mama.” The two squeak before Maria kisses her father’s cheek.

“Happy Father’s Day.” She mumbles. Miguel chuckles and ruffles Gabriel’s head as the boy looked at him embarrassed.”Gracias, mis pequeños. Intentad no atacaros otra vez por mi desayuno, ¿vale?” Thank you, my little ones. Try not to attack each other over my breakfast again, okay?

“Okay, Dad.” The thirteen year old attempts to recover from his father’s affection by putting on a tough pout, similar to his mother’s. Miguel smiles as sees his love sit back on her spot on the bed with Ben curling up closer to her.

“Well, my love.” She sighs as she gives him a loving smile. Miguel can remember the first time he saw that smile in his lab and all the times afterwards. The smile that trapped him to her happily.

“Our wonderful children decided to leave gift hunting to me because they couldn’t agree on anything.” She looks at the two older siblings as they awkwardly shuffles. “So I think you’ll enjoy what I got for you.” She hands him the red envelope she had used to control their little trouble makers and places a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Happy 19th Father’s Day, mi amor.” She whispers into his sharp cheekbone as their youngest groans about his parents showing affection.

With a chuckle, Miguel rips open the envelope and peeks inside with a raised eyebrow as several pieces of pink paper were inside. Upon pulling a couple pieces out to see his wife’s familiar scrawl, he realizes what it is.

A chest rumbling laugh fills the room as he reads out loud, “One free coupon for my child to do the dishes, One free coupon for my child to wash my car, One free coupon for my child to clean the bathroom..”

“WHAT?!” The two oldest yelled in shock, clearly not aware of what their mother had done.

With a giggle, their mother looks at the kids in feigned innocence. “What a better gift to give your poor overworked father than a day where he doesn’t have to do chores? Besides you told me to pick..”

“Mama!” The duo started to argue only for their father’s harsh glare reprimands them. They both shut up as Miguel rewards them with a tight grin and both of them with five coupons each. “I wasn’t gonna use these if you didn’t try to back talk your mother. You two have fun.”

“What about Ben?” Gabriel argues as his eyes cut at his sister.

Miguel looks at the seven year old and hands him two coupons that made him clean up his room and pick up his toys. “Now all three of you go so I can enjoy my breakfast.”

Ben hugs his father’s shoulders and runs off while the eight teen year old drags the pouting teen out of the bedroom.

Miguel looks over at his wife with an amused look as he mumbles through a bite of bacon, “This was all your plan?”

“Not all of it,” She admits as she leans back on the headboard. A playful smile on her face as she fidgets with her nail polish. “The kids beat me to the kitchen and they already started arguing. You’re actually eating breakfast number 2 because they nearly caught the house on fire. So while I made them cook it again, I made your ‘gift’”

Miguel chuckles as he realizes that his wife was using him as a tool for her punishment. He fakes a glare as he scolds his love, “You used me and my day for your own gain? Who is this criminal mastermind and where is my wife?”

She laughs before reaching under the bed and pulling out two wrapped boxes. “You act like you wouldn’t do the same thing, O’Hara. Here’s your actual Father’s Day gift.” She places the boxes beside him.

After scoffing down half of his pancake, he opens the first box and finds a watch-like device. Miguel looks at her with a quirky eyebrow as she explains, “it’s one of those AI assisted watches, you can make your own AI who will help you throughout the day and get little messages from me and the kids. You can even give it some personality so it isn’t just a boring little thing.”

Miguel looks at her inquisitively before pressing a sticky kiss to her forehead. “Thank you, Cariño.” She turns her nose up at the feeling of his syrup covered lips on her before pulling him to a kiss.

“You should wait to thank me just yet. The watch is from the kids.” She smirks as she indicates for him to open the other box. “That’s from me.”

Miguel takes the hint and opens the box. After seeing his favorite color peaking through some paper, he looks at her with a shocked expression. “Just like the ones from the first Father’s Day?” He asked, astonished.

“Yep.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I was gonna add a part where Miguel and Sunny were celebrating together in their universe but I didn’t feel like writing some angst today. 😅🥲 Now I’m gonna do some fatherless behavior.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@ameliadraws @tojisrightnut @whyareyoubored @silly-lovestruck-em @luvil1y @chims-kookies @himesuedi @22carolina08 @chaoticevilbakugo @boredwithlifeatthispoint @hoshhoshh @isaidoop @pheroineux @rosiepetalss @aniya7 @savannahlynnes @boldlypessimistic @dilfaddiction @xsuvs @bunnybopug01 @tanakaslastbraincell @brivers @mistermouseshideyhole @paranoiac-666 @reypolaris @beeframon @sofiahowland376 @bby-lupin @thesrtuggleisveryreal @arminarmout15 @mintellaine @maddsunn @sleepyamaya @meshuao @scaraza @nobarasgfriend @kurxxmi @lemoonandlestars @pix-stuff @galaxieshearme @sunshiines-stuff @iytatsworld @corpsebridenightamare @p-rspective @almostjollypizza @celestiayxl @christinaatyourservice92 @marisolpusheen @hereliespumpkin @lordelvr @shadowlover321 @internal-soundtrack @lotustv @0sftom0 @whosace16 @namjoons-crabssss @baefys-world @namioom @20forty9 @cicithemess2000 @hailssss222 @cityofvoldemort-blog @snow30285 @serenssuga @miguelluvrinnit @sammywammy1 @dameronshandholder @moonlight-fox @miwagila @alexthebootyeater420 @mariaatp @10-jiku2 @uselsshuman @cookiezxx @randomhumans-blog @mothsicn @gingerdissapointment @outspokenmatters @cookieshakr @alex-river1 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @luna-usagi-chan @icantsleeplol809 @tiredweeb7 @4ishere @i-heart-marvel @mooomeadows @king-julian6201 @local-mr-frog @superbjealousy @wonwuz @lokisnumber1whore @deloe18 @all4koo @gothicgay14 @perrins161 @ghost-with-a-teacup @addictedtothefictionalworld @stevenknightmarc @loxbbg @some-lovely-day @thisisanaccountokaydus @keepingitlokiii @stevenknightmarc @maxi-ride @juneonhoth @fa1rybubbl3z @strxngegirl @iytatsworld @dilfrs @stfugenderfuck @ben-is-a-hoe @coralineyouareinterribledanger @fallinallinmendes @im-sure-its-fine @mirophobic

[puck-bunny-for-all]

Life Latley - A.M (TRIGGER WARNING)

matthews.mrs : life lately. my human

tagged : @austonmatthews

location : arizona bitch

williamnylander : fire fire fire fire fire

↪ matthews.mrs : thank you willy!

bertuzzi17 : look at the little chunkkkkkkk 🤩

morganreilly : my fav couple 🤑

↪ name.user : you say that to everyone on the team with a significant other you liar. 😬😬

austonmatthews : im so in love ❤️

samsonov_30 : MY FAVORITE GOALIE iIN THE MAKING🤧🤧

matthewknies : momma y papa

marner_93 : whennnn can I come see my god child

↪ matthews.mrs: never u weirdo ❤️

revo7five : looooook at the mini matthewssss 👶🏻

↪ matthews.mrs : im going to slice ur hockey stick in half just bc

frederikandersen31 : omg let me hold herrrrrrr🫨

simon_benoit11 : quand mon bébé naît, il doit avoir des rendez-vous pour jouer ! (when my baby is born, he has to have play dates!)

↪matthews.mrs : Oui! Simon, je ne plaisante pas quand je dis que tu ferais mieux de m'appeler dès la naissance de bébé Benny ! (yes! simon im not joking when i say you better call me the moment baby benny is born!)

bobbymcmann : small little human

ctimmins21 : 🫨🫨

nickrobertson01 : 🫨🫨🫨 how do you not break the baby

lyubushkin45 : 🫨🫨🫨🫨

bunting27 : daughter

kampfdavid : congrats!!

kerfey14 : miss YOU!!!

↪ matthews.mrs : I sometimes miss u 😬

rasmussandin : kiddooooos

A.N : LAST POST OF THE NIGHT LOL LOVE U

tags : @quinnylouhughesx43 @noahkahansorangejuice @skylershines

[newtonsheffield]

I saw this and immediately thought of Mile High. 🤩

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C4BMjbkLV_r/?igsh=bjlxeDhwdHVobjMw

Oh 100%.

Kate standing at the door, greeting passengers who walk in with Neddy on her hip while Anthony gets them situated.

“Ohh what a handsome boy.” An older woman said as she passed, Neddy waving one of his hands at her while the other wrapped around Kate’s tie.

“You should see his Daddy.” Kate chuckled, smoothing her hand through the unruly curls of Neddy’s hair. “He gets it from him.”

Edwina gagged beside Kate, “Gross.” She looked to the woman, “It’s fine, she’s my sister.”

“Are you flying the plane today?” The woman cooed at Neddy who giggled, waving his fists.

“Oh he’ll definitely help. He has very smooth take offs.”

“I’m ready for him, babe.” Anthony said, making his way back towards the front. “All set up.”

The woman chuckled as Anthony took Neddy, kissing his son on the forehead. “Two peas in a pod. Beautiful.”

“I know how to pick them apparently.” Kate grinned, kissing Anthony’s cheek who blinked confusedly.

Anthony waved Neddy’s hand at the woman as she strode away, “Are you ready Mr Neddy? Papa and Uncle Benny are ready for you. We’ll see Amma be amazing.”

[penvisions]

the melting point {chapter 16}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (ex EMT! Reader)

Summary: In the aftermath of a rather eventful and terrifying last summer farmer's market, you try to find a semblance of normalcy as best you can. Meanwhile, Frankie is up to something that is beginning to cause you to worry about the burden you've become in your recovery.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: medical jargon, mild language, emotional monologues, internal monologue, negative feelings, negative thoughts, ptsd symptoms, pining, emotional pining, depressive thoughts, description of pain and injuries, blood, descriptions of post shooting chaos, panic attacks, notions of death, hospital setting, mentions of needles and iv's, mentions of narcotics, use of prescription narcotics, feelings of inadequacy, angst

A/N: um, so it's been four months since i've touched this fic, then i woke up yesterday morning and just began writing like nothing. takes breaks when you need to, don't force things and it'll all work out. please let me know what y'all think!

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“C’mon, hang on for me baby, please, don’t-don’t close your eyes.”

“Mantequilla, everything is gonna be okay, I promise, we’re all here for you, please know that everything is going to be okay.”

“We’ve got you, you did so good, you saved my little girl, you did, you saved her.”

“Honey, we all love you so much, please stay strong, I’ll hold your hand the entire way there.”

“Let’s get you turned over, ma’am, c’mon. There we go, you’re doing amazing.”

“Santi, she-she-“

“Papa!! Papa, please help her, I love her! Tio Santi, do something!!”

“Merde, that’s so much blood, Frankie you’ve gotta focus, you’ve gotta calm her down. Get her home safe, to your mother’s, somewhere safe.”

“Will!! They got her, call Morgan! She went missing the second things got crazy.”

“Has anyone seen Benny?”

“They’re transporting her now, rushing her to surgery the second the get there.”

“She’s lost a lot of blood, any donations with the same blood type would be appreciated. Who here is a positive?”

“Sweet girl, please, you’ve got to pull through, I know you can do it. You’re so strong.”

“No response, it’s been how many days now?”

“She’s being rushed into another surgery, she keeps clotting. They can’t figure out why.”

“Fransico Morales? You’re next of kin?”

“No, no, but we’re all she has. Her family is flying out, they’ll be here in a few hours.”

“Taylor, take a moment, it’s…it’s a lot to take in.”

“Daddy, why is tia all tangled in those machines, she’s going to be okay, right?”

“This is my son, he wanted to come and cheer her up because she always did the same for him when he was sick.”

“Please, mi amor, please, you have to make it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Fractered memories played over each other, words echoing and bouncing off of each other through the fog that was all you knew. You couldn’t feel anything, all of your senses stripped away, and you were nothing more than a half-conscious mind tunneling in and out of suspended darkness.

Beeping, an even beeping was the only steady thing you could make out. Sense of environment completely gone and sense of awareness slowly trickling in. Your eyes hurt as you slowly blinked them open, the faint lights around you too bright and you clenched them shut with a huff that pulled at your lungs. The stillness of where you were was shattered as the clattering of a chair sounded, followed by a pair of hands tightening around yours that were settled over your middle. A hushed order to go fetch someone and then a deep voice was rumbling close. You turned your head toward the presence hovering close to your left side, drawn to whoever it was.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, sweet girl.”

A grunt sounded from deep in your chest as you tried to open your mouth and respond. Then a gasp when pain reverberated from the same spot. You tried to shift your legs, hips feeling oddly numb but you couldn’t quite feel them. It was as if they were asleep, but… you cracked your eyes open a second time, squinting down the length of the bed you were in. Your legs were there, obvious underneath the thin, knit, scratchy blankets that only a hospital possessed. You tried to shift again, but even your hips didn’t feel like a part of your body. Your eyes flew open completely, tearing up at the brightness of the room.

Shuddering breaths pulled deep hurt, but you tried to shift again and again but there was no movement underneath the blanket. None.

“Okay, alright, querida, please. Take a deep breath, it’s-it’s gonna be okay.” Frankie. It had been Frankie speaking to you, close to you. His hands reached out for your own, where you had pried them from him to try and prop yourself up, wires and tubes pulling, clattering against each other and making your head swim. “The doctors-“

“I know this must be quite a shock, but it’s good that you’re awake!” A white coat, thrown over a modest skirt and blouse, blonde hair. A kind face, pinched. A furrowed brow. Bad news on the tip of her tongue.

You tried to speak, demand why you couldn’t feel anything below your waist. But you could only croak out the faintest notions of words. Everything was a blur, the hospital room you were in a mess of blue and white, the beeping of machines hurting your ears. Nothing made any sense, confusion coloring every thought as to how you got here and why.

“Let’s get you some water and food first, your body is pretty weak right now. Can I get a level two meal delivered to room thirteen eighty-nine, please?” She turned to address someone who had been hidden behind her, a nurse in teal scrubs.

“Tell me.” You managed to croak out, eyes fixated on her pinched ones.

“I would really prefer to get you a little acclimated.”

“No.”

Her eyes flickered toward Frankie, as if in a silent plea to get him to calm you down and put you at ease however little he could manage. But you ignored the warm weight of his hand on your shoulder, eyes trained on the doctor in front of you as you tried to find more strength to speak around the dry cotton feel of your mouth, the panging hunger that was present in your stomach, the lack of control over your body.

She sighed, arms holding the clipboard in front her in an imitation of a fig leave over her hips.

“We had you in a medically induced coma for the last two weeks. I’m not sure all of what you remember, the brain is fickle that way, pushing things and events out in response to trauma.” She didn’t look from you as the sound of fast steps approached the door, nor when a large figure moved passed her and came straight to your right side. It was Taylor. Both of the most important men in your life on your sides. He was quiet, but you could see the evidence of tears in the puffiness of his eyes, the lack of a smile on his face as he hovered close.

“You were hit in the sacrum and coccyx region, paralyzing you from the waist down. We performed three surgeries to remove the bullet shards and repair as much of the damage as possible. Your blood flow and reflex reactions have improved but we had no way of knowing if anything truly worked until you woke. A week has passed since we stopped inducing you, we were beginning to think you might not wake up.”

The rest of the conversation was a blur, medical terms floating heavy in the air of the room. Daunting, terrifying, life altering. You didn’t think you could handle another life altering event of this caliber. But it didn’t look like you had to traverse it alone. You teared up once the doctor left the room, offering to come back and talk to you once visiting hours were over, though she had mildly glared at both men as she said it. But knowing them both, they had been alternating staying the night to watch over you past the set hours that allowed for them to be present.

You had two wonderful men who were willing to do anything for you, one with a friend group who would follow his lead and the other who had given you so much already. You hoped it wouldn’t be too much, taking what they were willing to give.

“It’s a lot,” Taylor’s voice broke, his words spoken through eyes glittering with tears. His hands tight around yours as he leaned his forehead against yours, completely in your personal space. “But we’ve done somethin’ like this before and we can do it again. We can do it again.”

You could only nod, throat and voice still weak from weeks of disuse.

He walked closer to the side of the bed, the man’s large build shadowing over you in the dimmer setting of the lights you had requested. The full effect of them too bright for you eyes after being unconscious for so long. You reached out to him, urging him to sit atop it as best he could as you all but threw yourself at him. He let you, aware of Frankie standing close to the other side, eyes watering as he heard the cries that began to bubble up from you.

“I-I-“

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here. We’re both here.” Taylor murmured, as he wrapped his own arms around you to pull you close. He smelled like your apartment, a mix of faint buttercream and the rose perfume you favored all rolled into one comforting scent. His own masked by the time he had been in town. “Alfred was here too, but he had to be taken back for school. He sat with you every day for that first week and read to you. He was so worried about you, mami. He kept talking with you like he always does, hoping you would wake up and respond.”

Frankie excused himself, his phone beeping in his pocket and the sound of you crying too much for him to handle all at once. You watched him leave the room, his shadow visible through the blinds in the window looking into the room as he paced up and down the hallway just outside. His voice a low murmur as he spoke with whoever had been trying to contact him.

“I didn’t mean to scare him…or you. I’m so sorry, that call – it must’ve been so terrifying.” You hiccupped into his chest, unable to stop the tears and emotions from flowing all at once, overwhelmed and completely at a loss of how to respond to anything at the moment.

Hushed words eradicated any ill thoughts you were having of yourself, comforting in their genuine indication. He assured you he had been able to handle it, that he was able to handle the hard things that came along with being bonded with someone for life, for knowing someone for so long. For having already done something similar before. But yeah, that it had been scary but Frankie had been as detailed and direct as he needed to be, levelheaded in his description of what had happened and what immediately happened afterwards.

Frankie came up to you both as he entered back into the room, a hand on both your shoulders to get your equal attention. You looked up at him with watery eyes, feeling so proud of how everyone was trying to keep it together for you but guilty at the same time since it had been something they had been dealing with for weeks now.

“That was the airline, they need someone to come in and take over a few tours for double pay. I wouldn’t normally turn them down and I will if you need me here. You’re awake now and I want to be here with you.”

“Y-you should go, if you want to, if you need to.” Scratchy words spoken with what little conviction you could muster. He was conflicted, worried about making the wrong decision.

“You need me here.” He didn’t argue so much as read the thoughts in your mind as clearly as if you had displayed for him to see. “You want me here.”

“Yes, but….money is money, Frankie. For your house, for your daughter, for everything. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“I’m gonna run and get a coffee before you head out, I’ll stay the night, okay?” Taylor announced before he pressed a kiss to your temple and stood. Leaving you and Frankie truly alone for the first time since you woke up. You reached out to the man, gripping his open flannel shirt and lightly pulling him toward you. But he didn’t budge, his feet stable on the ground and his back not leaning to meet you. He wasn’t looking quite at you, but just beyond you. His eyes a little distant.

“I’m sorry.” Pulling your hands back to rest in your lap, you began to twiddle your fingers, unsure of what to do, unsure of why he was acting so weird and distant. Maybe he was just exhausted, mentally wiped out from waiting and waiting for you to wake up. Maybe…he was rethinking everything he’s once promised you…

“Hey, no, you don’t have to be sorry.” His eyes caught your own, his hands reaching out to hold your own as he kneeled down to be at your eye level. Emotions you couldn’t read swirling behind them. “I just- It’s just… you’re awake. And I’m so scared I’m going to open my eyes or wake up and you’ll still be unconscious…or passed.”

“I am awake.” You insisted, worried about this being an elaborate dream all the same. Some made up fantasy your brain concocted in its last moments and none of it was real, that you weren’t real anymore.

“I want to stay,” He pleaded with you, desperate for you to understand how hard it is for him to make the decision to leave, to heed the call of an entire week’s worth of pay in just a few days. But he had a plan and he had to stick with it, it would be for the best in the long run.

“C-can you stay tomorrow?”

“Of course, sweet girl. I promise. I just- this is important. For the both of us. I swear.”

“I believe you, Frankie. I love you.” You lifted your intertwined hands and kissed his knuckles. He repeated the words before he shrugged his jacket on and bid you goodnight. He didn’t kiss you back, instead squeezing your hands twice in farewell.

“Hermosa, I-I just-“ Frankie hung his head, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees the next evening.

He had gone home to change and get a little sleep after a hectic two days of back to back tours. A touch restful now that he knew you were awake, but still fleeting. His thoughts had been a jumble as his mind flashed your unconscious form across the backs of his eyelids. Bleeding, hyperventilating, being rushed into emergency surgery not once but three times. Of you completely still save for the slight rise and fall of your chest laid out in the hospital bed. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing or diminish anything but- just thank you.”

“You saved her, at such a great risk to yourself. But you did, you saved my little girl when I couldn’t. I have endless love and admiration for you, querida. Please, I am here for you. I will help you with whatever you need or want. And not just because of this, but…but until you don’t want that anymore. You’ve got me, sweet girl. I promise.”

The conviction in his tone was strong despite the way his words were pushed out with deep breaths, trying to keep his composure. His shoulders were quaking with the effort he was holding back another wave of tears. Too many emotions for him to handle since the second you had rushed in front of that gun aimed at his daughter.

“Come here,” You softly compelled him, trying to shuffle atop the bed. Feeling still numb below the tops of your thighs, only some control over your legs that you were trying not to dissect. Going over your charts and test results had helped a little, compartmentalizing that it was happening to you and mind working to help solve and reason the things you read as if it was a patient of your own. Work. And a lot of it was ahead of you.

Frankie shuffled up and out of his shoes, choosing to urge you forward softly so he could be the one resting against the back of the angled bed. He helped to situate you against his chest, his arms coming around you in a warm embrace, the smell of his cologne and body wash puffing up and surrounding you in a comforting way. He pressed kisses to the crown of your head, nose shuffling in your hair and making you sigh out at the human contact.

“I would do it again, in a heartbeat. Even knowing what would happen.”

“Te amo. Te tango mucho amor ti, querida.” He whispered hoarsely in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. All you could do was repeat the words to him, meaning them with everything in your very being. Bringing his hands up to rest over your heart, palms flat over your chest, you both just laid there soaking up each other’s company.

His thoughts took over as you felt your breathing even, reaching over to silence the television that had been playing quietly in the corner where it was installed high on the wall.

‘Everything was so loud, a cacophony of too sharp frequencies grating on his ears as he watched the way your body fell to the ground. The man with the gun fleeing from the scene as soon as the gun had fired, steps heavy as he ran as fast as he could. Pope taking off immediately after him, his own gun pulled from the holster attached to his belt. Permission to carry it around off the clock from one of the local military bases where he worked as a freelance advisor.

Frankie was rushing too, toward you. Toward his daughter. Toward you both. There was a pool of blood forming beneath you, having twisted yourself to prevent from falling on top of Alexia’s smaller frame. She was kneeling beside you, tears running down her cheeks as you reached up to cup her face. A pinched expression on your features and blood blooming dark low on your front. His little girl turned to him as he crashed to his knees behind her and brought her in a crushing embrace to his chest, hearing the hum of the crowd that had begun to form all around.

Shouts to call 911 and responses that more than one person was already speaking with officers, telling them of what had just happened.

She begged him to help you.

She begged him to save you.

Shouting at him in her small voice that she loved you and she knew he loved you too.

She buried her face in his chest as he leaned forward to try and get your eyes to focus on him, but you were barely able to keep them open. Lashes fluttering as your breath became labored. He was speaking, words falling from him as he fell back on years of training. Pinging questions off one after the other, getting no response from you for even one. Unresponsive in the worst way, body completely laid out before him and eyes now completely closed. You could’ve been sleeping, as you were still for a fleeting moment.

But then you started to convulse, body fighting against the bullets that had landed deep in your body. He tried to tilt your head toward him, to avoid you biting on your tongue or choking on your own breath.

A new set of hands was taking over, gently ushering him away as paramedics appeared on the scene.

He could only hold tight to his sobbing daughter as he watched the two technicians tend to you. Your chest ceasing heaving at an alarming rate, your breath almost rattling as your lungs desperately tried to keep working.

Blinking rapidly, Frankie focused his eyes on his hands curled over the controls in front of him. He was flying, the landscape of the city and surrounding greenery, the ocean all laid out before him. He was okay, you were okay. Alexia was okay.

He was at work. He was okay.

His fingers twitched at the clueless ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ of the tourists clamoring for views outside the windows. Their voices coming in clear through the headsets they wore to match his own. Completely in their own world and no problems plaguing them. Carefree.

He was at work. He wasn’t okay.

He should’ve stayed with you.

He should’ve turned down the offer.

But he had run at the first opportunity. Unable to stop the events from replaying in his mind on a loop.

Preventing him from sleeping, preventing him from being able to look at you half the time. Seeing you as you had looked right after the attack, seeing you as they rushed you onto the ambulance, seeing you as your chest went completely still once loaded up. The way your body didn’t respond to the attempts of resuscitation.

Mind torturing him by projecting you laid out in an open coffin. Copper hair resting around your lifeless frame, beautiful face covered in the wrong shade of makeup, hiding the freckles that dotted your face from him. Forever closed eyelids hiding your bright eyes from him. Black dress hiding your soft skin from his twitching fingers, itching to trace the delicate ink that decorated your skin. A masterpiece taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.

Shaking his head minutely, he shoved the fake notions out of his head and pivoted the helicopter toward the coast. Following and announcing the route for the tour that the people sat behind him had requested.

He was at work and he didn’t think he’d ever be okay again. But he would try for you, because you were awake and waiting for him to return to you.

He pulled his sunglasses from where the frames were hanging from his collar and covered his reddening eyes.’

“Come on, two more steps and we’re home free.” The physical therapist was encouraging in the most grating of ways. Your normally polite and civil personality being shattered by the turn of events your life had taken. It was a lot of work now, but it had been a lot of work to initially discover that you had only minimal feeling and control over your lower half. Hips sore no matter how much medicine was added to your IV, legs numb and unresponsive more often than not.

But that didn’t stop the doctor from putting you on a physical therapy track of two appointments per week. Something you had thought was a lot right off the bat but not wanting to argue. Just as angered by the quick pace as you were determined to stick to it. It was the second week since waking up, discharge looming like a storm over the horizon, visible but not yet tangible.

There had been talk about Taylor renting a home to move into for the duration of your recovery. His son being taken care of by his co-parent back home with school having started. But Frankie had offered up his own home, a flush to his caramel skin as he did so. Not having wanted to ask you to move in under such dire circumstances. But he would be lying if he said the thought of offering you a space in his home hadn’t been on his mind lately.

Taylor had offered to split his time between Frankie’s and the apartment above the shop. An outpouring of love from the community delivered to the shop and hospital in overwhelmingly equal parts. Baskets of treats, flowers, cards, vouchers for services from all around the city and local vendors. Everything was being toted back between the two spaces that were now yours.

Lex indulging in the treats as she sat with you in the afternoons after school. Homework laid out before her atop the bed as you helped her with her math and writing. Different people picking her up while Frankie returned to work, determined to put in as many hours before he took two whole weeks off to help you transition to being home once you were discharged.

But right now, you were stood on shaking legs, arms braced heavily on the bars on either side of you as you stood between the set up of the parallel bars. Sweat dripping from your hair thrown up in a haphazard bun, skin sallow from the medication you were on a strict rotation of. You had forgone shoes, insistent that you wanted to be able to feel anything should it come back to you while practicing.

Your arms were shaking, holding up the entirety of your body weight on them, muscles straining and tattoos looking distorted with the flex of them. With a huff, you shifted your hips, right leg lifting slightly and managed to shuffle it about a foot before placing your foot down flat and tipping forward to even your weight with the new stance.

“Alright, you did it!” The nurse was a kindly young man, his arms hovering behind you as he waited for you to tap out. But you sucked in a deep breath and concentrated. Shifting your left foot ahead in the same manner before a spike of pain shot up from the arch of it as you settled it flat on the mat.

“Fuck! Okay, okay, I’m out. That’s all I got.” You wavered, arms shaking and legs beginning to tingle where you could feel them.

“That’s okay, you did good today. Four steps is progress.” The nurse helped you, gathering your form in his arms and lifting to get the pressure off your aching shoulders.

Santi was in the room when you were wheeled back, no sign of Taylor or Frankie. He informed you that they were both taking care of something for you which made you feel a little uneasy that they hadn’t told you themselves the night before that they wouldn’t be in to see you today. The nurse let the man take over with helping you get back into the bed, knowing you’d rather it be someone who you knew handling you for something a little more intimate of a move.

The man’s broad shoulders tensed as he supported your nearly dead weight, completely at a loss of energy from the days activities.

“Did they say where they were going?” You inquired, voice soft as you nuzzled your face into the man’s neck. He smelled so good and you were just in a very physically affectionate mood in wake of not getting any direct attention from Frankie in the way you were too hesitant to ask for.

“Mante, you know I would tell you if I knew, but they were like school boys, shuffling their feet and avoiding eye contact. I’m sure it’s just a surprise for you, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

You were quiet for a moment, allowing the man to situate your aching legs as best he could and covering you up with the blankets that had been brought from your apartment. He busied himself with getting a take out bag unpacked and placing containers over the collapsable table attached to the bed for you. A cup of coffee that smelled of caramel and foamed milk pressed gently into your reaching hands. He was so diligent, the soft curls of his graying hair falling over his forehead as he focused. When everything was set up, he settled into the chair beside the bed with his own container and began to dig in.

But you were still, only a sip taken from the hot coffee handed to you.

“Santi…”

“What is it, hermosa?” He looked up from his food, utensils loaded up and a bite halfway to his lips. “I get the wrong thing?”

“No,” A small smile offered to him as your heart fluttered in your chest, unsure of how to even broach the concerns that were crashing over you in overwhelming waves. “No, this is great. Thank you.”

The man watched you, eyes scanning your face as you averted your eyes. He let out a quiet sigh and set down his utensils completely, asking you to tell him what was really on your mind.

“Frankie…he, um, he-“ You felt like a complete idiot as your face heated up, tears welling in your eyes unbidden. Foolish question, it was such a foolish thing to be worried about when the man’s words were nothing but reassuring and loving. “Why won’t he kiss me, Santi?”

“Is that what you need right now?”

You warbled out an affirmative. Feeling for all the world like a pathetic lovesick fool even surrounded by everyone who you could possibly need in your life right now, everyone working together to help you in any way possible.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

A shake of your head was all the answer you could muster up.

“He’s probably just trying to respect you, not wanting to put pressure on you to be that way with him if you’re too overwhelmed.” Santi went on to explain that his best friend had trouble with stuff like this, showing his affection and feelings in wake of traumatic events.

That you should try not to worry too much, though he knew that was easier said than done. To not take it personally, but he admitted to knowing that might be hard to do as well, everything so much at the moment. He reminded you that you could reach out to you with anything at any time. He would try his best to be there for you in any way that he could. Even jokingly offering to pepper kisses over your face and approaching you with overly pursed lips until you erupted into a laughing fit at how ridiculous he looked as he loomed closer. He sealed the conversation with a genuine press of his lips to the corner of your mouth, his hands cradling your face in their warmth before he moved back to his seat and ordered you to eat.

Across town, Taylor and Frankie had a similar conversation as a bell dinged above them where it was nestled in the doorway to a shop front. The two men determined to surprise you with something that Frankie had quietly brought up one night following your first rush into emergency surgery. An approval of sorts he had been seeking after was granted instantaneously with a smile and words of encouragement from the only other man he felt like he could share the conversation with at the moment.  

“Discharge papers should be processed by end of day, looks like you’ll be spending the night in your own bed.” The doctor offered you a small smile. She had been worried about having you under her care when she found out you were a once trained medical technician, knowing how bad of a patient she was when sick herself. But you had surprised her, not talking over her or voicing opinions on what needed to be done. It had been another week, progress made in physical therapy.

You were able to walk the length of the parallel bars, slowly and with a lot of huffing and puffing. But it cleared you for outpatient treatment. The feeling in your legs was spotty, coming to you mostly in the mornings when you first woke up and at the end of the day after resting for a few hours. Something she was only mildly worried about, muscle atrophy from being unconscious for so long lingering even now.

But she had been confident that the feeling would come back completely, though she was honest when she said she was worried about numbness flaring up.

That’s how you found yourself seated in the passenger seat of Frankie’s truck as he pulled into the drive of his house. He was waiting for the garage to open, in order to make it easier for you to walk straight into the laundry room instead of having to attempt to tackle the stairs to the front door. Everyone would be over tomorrow, to celebrate your release. Giving you a free night to settle in and mentally deal with the shift in environments. Lex would be at her grandparents so Frankie could focus on getting you settled.

“One moment, just…want to get something set up before I help you out, okay?” His earnest gaze widened his beautiful eyes, watching you and making sure you were alright to be left alone for a moment. He was through the door and back in the garage in a matter of minutes, a shy smile aimed at you as he helped you down and got a walked ready for you. It had a cushioned seat in the middle, in case you needed to take any breaks when trying to move about. Something you wanted to argue but didn’t have a good one against.

You felt…weird. Having to rely on him so much, but extremely grateful that he was willing to. You’d seen friendships and relationships fall apart with this much stress and similar situations. Both as a professional and a civilian, as a friend. You only hoped this wouldn’t be one of the last things he did for you before telling you it was too much, that you were too much. Love could only encompass so much before it wasn’t enough to hold two individuals together.

Melancholic and depressive thoughts abundant as you tried to come to terms with what the near future would hold for an unknowable amount of time. There was no timeline with things like this and that’s what worried you the most. What if you had flares of numbness for the rest of your life, what if he began to see you as a burden, as work he had to come back to after doing his shifts at the mechanics and his flying tours. What if all your progress was meaningless and you woke up one day with no feeling at all?

He had hushed you on more than one occasion with soft words, promises he wouldn’t do that. Promises that he was yours, that you were his, that you were in this together. But doubt crept in regardless. Even more so in the realization that he hadn’t wanted to kiss you. He was quick to dodge your advances, placing placating touches of his lips to your hair instead; of pulling you tighter to his body instead. Almost as if he was hesitant to show you affection in that way and it was hard to handle when all you wanted was that type of comfort from the man you loved so completely.

His hands were warm as he supported your weight, but he didn’t shift you down to the ground completely, instead he pulled you flush against him. Your own arms tightened around his neck, feet barely touching the ground as he ducked his head to kiss you fully for the first time since you woke up in that hospital bed. You melted into him even more, welcoming his lips against yours reverently, desperately.

The plush give of them against your own feeling like a true welcome home.

Shifting your hands up into his soft hair, you knocked the cap clear of his head as you parted your lips for him. He held you tight, not risking you putting too much weight on your own feet for even a second as he kissed you again and again, lips meeting yours in a dizzying display of his unfettered affection. Pulling at his curls, you pivoted his head to deepen another kiss, desperate for his touch and his taste. He groaned into your mouth, pulling back slightly to rest his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes slowly, watching the way his face was completely relaxed. The lines of his age smoothed out slightly as he moved to peck one last kiss to your slick lips.

He had set the table up before picking you up, at home during the day as he had received your hopeful text about the paperwork this morning. But he had run inside to pull everything from where it was keeping warm in the oven, lighting twin tapers set in the middle of the dining table. You tried to hide the squeal of surprise as he lifted you up completely, choosing to carry you bridal style over the threshold of the house and through the laundry room and into the kitchen.

“Frankie, you didn’t have to do all this.” You placed a kiss to his cheek as he carefully set you down into a chair, making sure your legs were situated how you wanted them. “I woulda been happy with a fast-food drive thru, you know that.”

“I know, but I wanted to do something special for you.” He moved over to the closest chair, settling down into it with a sigh. He looked nervous, you realized as you took in the dinner had had made before picking you up. One of your favorite dishes filling the kitchen with its tantalizing scent. The boys had snuck in food from time to time, but it had mostly been bland hospital food for a majority of the last three weeks.

Frankie cleared his throat, your eyes lifting from the items on the table and toward him.

In his hands was an emerald velvet box, open to reveal a simple gold band with a sparkling rhombus diamond in the middle.

Your lips parted, a gasp falling from them as your heart stuttered hard in your chest. Hands dropping the utensils you had just picked up clattered to the table and you stared across the table at him. At a complete loss for words as he nervously shifted in his seat and leaned closer toward you to take your hands in his own, the small box set down gently beside your plate. His hands were shaking slightly, his nerves obvious as he bared his soul to you with his next words.

“Sweet girl, I know things are going to be touch and go for a long while,” He took a deep breath, chest pulling the fabric of his shirt taut with the action. His tongue peaked between his lips, a habit you noticed when he had a lot on his mind, and he was trying to sort through everything. “But I don’t want you to worry about anything to do with us, with you and me. You have me, you have me until the moment you decide you don’t anymore. I hope you don’t ever change your mind because I’ve been gone on you since the second you aimed that glare in my direction all those months ago. Will- will you do the honor of marrying me?”

Tears welled up the longer you looked at him, his eyes so wide and open, his voice cradling you with his earnest words. All you could do was nod, voice caught in your throat.

He let out a deep exhale, pulling a giggle from you when he broke out into the widest, goofy smile you had seen on him yet. You mirrored him, lips pulling as you squeezed his hands and leaned forward to rest your forehead against them clasped together.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Fransisco. Of course.” You kissed the tops of his hands, one and then the other before you were pushing yourself up slightly, tentatively placing weight on your legs and surging forward to kiss him.

He only let you get away with one before he was standing from his seat and kneeling in front of you with the box in his hands. He carefully removed the ring from its spot nestled safely inside the velvet cushion and you held out your left hand for him. It took a second for him to place it securely on your ring finger, snug and perfect against your skin. It glittered in the candlelight and you felt a tear run down your cheek.

Frankie’s hands came up to cup your face, his lips connecting with yours as he chuckled breathlessly at having managed to pull out the surprise proposal. At your resounding yes. At the prospect of a concrete future with you.

“I love you so much, thank you for...for everything.”

“I love you too, you dork,” Your laugh sparkled against his parted lips. “I can’t believe you just thanked me for agreeing to marry you.”

“Well, you could’ve said no.”

“Not in a million years.”

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taglist: @tanzthompson @clevergirl74 @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @jessthebaker @peppermintfury @for-a-longlongtime

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

[reallyromealone]

we need baby Sano being so blunt to the point it seems like he insults someone. he insults or embarrass everyone

(Name) was a blunt tot.

Like Jesus fuck blunt.

"Why are you so big?" He asked a lady as Shinichiro practically lifted him up and ran off, embarrassed and horrified.

"Uncle Benny?" (Name) asked benkei who was reading a magazine "yo"

"Why do you always look like you're pooping?" (Name) asked genuinely and the room halted as everyone looked at the little boy horrified "(name)! You can't say shit like that!"

"Why papa?" (Name) asked shinichiro who looked exhausted at his son "people don't like it"

"Why?"

"Because it can be seen as mean"

"Why?"

"We aren't doing this again, say sorry to your uncle"

"Sorry uncle Benny"

"Apology accepted little man"

Less than an hour later (name) asked someone why they're shaped like a chicken leg.