#with all my keys. and my steel toe boots.

[steampunkedparm]

"of course you have carabiner's."

yeah??? how else am i supposed to hold my keys?????

[bi-writes]

bestfriend!roommate!simon asks you to come with him on a night out. it is not quite the evening you were expecting.

more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 5/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mentions of death, fem!receiving suggestive touching, oral(fem!receiving), simon is an ass man, simon "i wont say it out loud but thats my girl" riley

simon was standing outside of the diner. he was in his usual spot outside, leaning along the brick wall in the alleyway. you knew it was him by the small light that flickered every so often--simon was smoking his routine cigarette as he waited for you.

simon was true to his word. ever since you began working night shifts at the diner, you weren't allowed to walk home alone. it was non-negotiable, not to be discussed. someone would pick you up at the end of your shift, and if no one could make it, there was a car waiting outside, a driver poking his head out and asking for your name. and that driver would stand, shaking a little, nervous, as they walked you to your door and said, "was told if i didn't see you go inside and lock the door that...i-i wouldn't be driving with two hands anymore--"

simon did not cut corners. he did not say "tonight will be fine--she doesn't need me." simon did not get comfortable, and he did not let safety and routine ease his fears.

he had made that mistake once before, and he had nearly lost everything--nearly. he would never make that mistake again.

the bell chimed above the door as you came outside. simon tossed the cigarette onto the ground and stubbed it out with the steel toe of his boot just as you came near. you looked up at him as he came out of the shadows, smiling just a little.

"hi, simon."

"luv."

he wrapped a hand around the back of your head, bringing you close and kissing your forehead through the mask. you closed your eyes when he did this, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at the gesture.

"i need to ask you a favor," he said as you began to walk home. you put your arm through his, holding onto his bicep as you tried to skip the cracks in the pavement.

"sure, simon. what is it?"

"'m goin' out tonight. meeting with someone, at the pub. need you to come with me."

you looked up at him as he brought you to a stop before you were crossing the street. you frowned a little, laughing, confused.

"u-uh...sure...i'll come." you snuggled into his arm, resting your chin on his shoulder. "what's the occasion? need me on your arm so you can stay silent while i do all the talking?"

he grunted a bit, shaking his head.

"no. we're just going to a pub. in an hour."

"sheesh, not a lot of time for a girl to get presentable," you joked.

"you always look beautiful," simon murmured, putting the key in the front door and opening up the apartment. he put a hand on your back as he guided you in first. "that's a mad way of thinkin'."

you smiled to yourself as you went into your bedroom. you pretended not to notice the way his hand lingered on your back, or how it grazed the hem of your skirt.

when you came back out, it took every ounce of simon's self control not to groan out loud. you had his favorite jeans on. a light wash, ones that hugged your waist no nicely and accentuated the curves of your ass in a way that he couldn't see as well when you wore a skirt or a dress. and you were wearing heeled boots, ones that made you sit so good, made you a little taller, your walk just that much more sensual.

"im ready."

you shrugged on a leather jacket, and simon grabbed a black jacket of his own, fitting it on over his hoodie. the pub was only a walk away. it was somewhere you had been before; they had cheap pints and good greasy food, and the bartender called you doe--he liked your soft eyes.

you let go of simon's arm as he opened the door for you. the pub was warm, and the chatter was quiet and lively. the yellow of the lights and the smell of cigarettes and beer was so familiar and nice. you went for the bar, but simon put a hand around your waist, bringing your attention to the back of the room. your eyes fell on a man, someone with a beanie and an army green jacket hunched over a glass of single malt.

you let him redirect you, and when you finally went to sit at the table, a stern, weathered face with indiscernible blue eyes stared up at you. simon took a seat next to you, his hands folding on top of the desk.

"what...what is--"

"this is captain john price," simon interrupted you. "he's my commanding officer."

you straightened up in your seat suddenly. the captain had his eyes on you, looking you up and down--not in a rude or threatening way, more like he was just so curious. his gaze was gentle, and finally he held out his hand for you to shake. you clasped your hand in his, giving him a firm hold, and the man finally cracked a smile under his unusual mustache.

"nice to meet you," you said softly. "i...i-i'm sorry, i...i don't understand..."

"i need you to sign some papers," john said finally. "if that's alright with you, ma'am."

"ma'am? am i your mother?" you raised a brow, cracking a bit of a smile. "no need for the formalities. i'm under the impression you're the one getting simon home, so let's not beat around the bush, john."

at the use of his name and no other title, john smiled. he gave simon a look, something as if to say, i like this one. you tilted your head to the side.

"you want me to sign papers. let me see them."

john pulled a wad of papers from the inside of his jacket, sliding them over to you. you took them, unfolding them and skimming the words. there was only one set of words you needed to pay attention to before you folded the papers back up.

NEXT OF KIN

your head snapped to the side, looking at simon with an incredulous face. your lips parted, your bottom lip trembling.

"what the fuck is this? huh?"

simon clicked his teeth.

"please--"

you moved to leave, but simon had an iron grip on the back of your chair. you bared your teeth at him, hissing under your breath.

"i'm not signing shit, you asshole," you snapped. "what the fuck is this? if you wanna die out there, that's your fucking business, but don't put that shit on me, simon--"

"i need to know that if somethin' happens to me, that you're gonna be straight, so quit your whinin' and be fuckin' realistic," he said lowly. "if something happens to me right now, you don't get anything. and i can't go...i can't go out again without you signing those papers, do you understand me?"

"why do i have to do this?" you glared at him. you tried to be angry, but your eyes were glossy. you were terrified, and your heartbeat was pulsing in your ears. "why can't you just put my name somewhere and just--"

"we're not married," simon explained. "and if things go wrong...i want you to have everything. and i mean...everything."

you closed your eyes, sniffling as you tried to keep in the tears. you felt his hand touch your shoulder gently, soft circles to try and relax you.

"sign the papers," simon whispered. "just sign'em, and we can go home."

"no, i'll go home, and you can sit out in the fucking doghouse and think about how well it'll go if you ever ambush me like this again."

you flipped the papers back over, snatching the pen from john's outstretched hand and beginning to sign messily the highlighted lines on the papers. you finished, shoving the stack back across the table before kicking the chair out from behind you. it knocked simon's arm off roughly, but you just glared at him before making your way to the bar to sit. simon watched as the bartender poured you a generous drink.

"she's fuckin' pissed at you, and she sits at the bar instead of going home?"

"she's not allowed to go home without a ride," simon murmured. "a rule she knows well."

"sounds a bit--" john's voice cut short when he met simon's hard stare. john cleared his throat, tucking the papers back into his jacket. "'m gonna make sure these get filed."

"tonight," simon demanded.

"tonight," john echoed. "be all squared away."

simon folded his hands in front of him, swallowing hard as he looked at you at the bar. there were a few tears running down your face. simon hated seeing you cry; he hated even more that he was the cause of that pain, but in his eyes, this was a necessary evil.

"she's beautiful, simon."

"watch it, mate." there was no malice behind simon's response--it was more of an acknowledgement that yes indeed, she's beautiful. "this goes nowhere, cap'n. not johnny, not gaz, not laswell--"

"i know," john nodded. "i'll get it done."

john stood up to leave, and simon held onto his hand as they shook hands. he pulled him closer, staring right into his eyes.

"she gets...everything. every single bloody penny."

john nodded, letting go of him and finding his way out. simon turned his head back to the bar, watching you carefully. a man came up to you, presumably wanting to buy you a drink, but you spit something out at him which the man didn't like. simon leaned back in his chair, smirking under the mask when the man waddled outside with his hand holding his crotch and a hard, red face.

when simon closed the door behind you after stepping inside the apartment, you were quick to come closer to him. his hand twisted the locks, and then your arms were around his neck, hugging him close as you breathed in the scent of him. all of the sudden, you didn't hate the smell of cigarettes. burning cigarettes meant simon was breathing in, sucking in breath, alive.

"i'm sorry, luv," he murmured into your hair. "'m sorry i cornered you like that, but i needed to--"

"i just don't like thinking about it, simon--what the fuck would i do without you?"

"you've been without me before."

"not by choice, never by choice," you snapped. "you leave. and i just miss you." you push off the hood over his head, smoothing a hand down the back of his balaclava. "i know what you do is important. i know you're good at what you do. but while you're off saving the world..."

"don't do this to me," simon hissed. "don't play that fuckin' card."

"i can play that card all i like after tonight," you growled. "you wanna throw all that responsibility on me? the burden of carrying your cross if a bullet goes through your head? tough shit, simon! while you're off saving the world, i'm the one that gets left behind! i'm the one sitting at home, biting my nails until they bleed because i don't know if you're dead or alive!"

the room was quiet. so quiet, the creak of the floorboards sounding under you as simon gripped your hips tight. you beat a fist against his chest, letting more tears fall.

"it's not fair, simon," you whimpered. "all we've been through...everything that's happened..." you hiccuped gently. "it's not fair, you're so...you're so mean..."

"mean?" he looked hurt. a flash of it crossed his eyes, something sad.

"yes, you're mean," you whispered. "what you do to me is so mean..." you leaned in. "you touch me...you kiss me...you give me everything but then you expect me to just..." you sucked in a shaky breath. "...i don't know what i am to you, simon. i don't know what you want from me."

simon grunted at that. he was terrible with words. he didn't know how to express what he felt for you, how to tell you that you were it. that maybe instead of making you sign those papers, he should've gotten onto his knees and begged you to marry him. tied a thread around your ring finger and made price bear witness. but you were...this was already too far. living with you was too far, touching you was too far, tasting you was too far--he had enough self-control to leave before he went too far, but it killed him when he walked away from you.

so he got down on his knees. he turned you around, pushed on the small of your back until you were kneeling against the couch, ass up on your forearms as he found the button on your jeans and tugged them low. you didn't stop him, but you were still crying softly. simon wasted no time, getting behind you on his knees and tugging your panties down. he spread your ass with both hands after tugging his mask up, wasting no time as he leaned forward and buried his tongue between your folds.

"dunno what to call you," simon murmured. "no idea. all i know is that you're mine, luv--" you shoved your face into the cushions, whining as he slurped noisily, tracing letters into your cunt with his tongue and pressing kisses to the wet skin there. you were always so good for him--he never needed to get you ready, never needed to get you wet, you always seemed to know or maybe you were just that fucking needy for him that you were always this pretty between the legs when he was around. you were such a good girl--waiting, watching, smiling, she's so pretty, she's so beautiful, she's so good to me.

simon wasn't going to let a title take away the things you deserved if something happened to him. the comfort you needed, the security you were never promised, the love that simon always had but never voiced. you deserved it, and so help him, he would give it to you--he would take care of you even if he was six feet under, and there wasn't a move he didn't make that wasn't planned without you in mind.

how do i get back to her?

how i do i leave her without leaving?

how do i make sure she isn't lost even if she doesn't know where to go?

simon was the first man you ever loved. and he would be the last.

you were drooling. your eyes fluttering open and closed, your cheek squished against the cushions as simon ate your cunt from behind. it was filthy, deranged, sucking on your clit in the same place that you ate dinners and watched movies--now it was one of the places that simon ruined you again for any other man or woman or anyone who had their eye on you.

perfect, sweet little cunt--tight, tasted so good, something that could satiate the hunger on a man like him for days over. and simon was hungry. he had trauma; trauma that crawled into his dreams and turned them into nightmares, something that kept him from looking at women the way a man like him might, but he never felt that way with you. fuck, he was hard the minute he saw a sliver of your soft skin, had no problem gripping your plush ass in both hands and eating you furiously, not even a flicker of something angry in his head.

his brain turned off whenever he was with you. sex felt inevitable--hearing your cries wasn't something he wanted, it was something he needed. an angry need, one that had his tongue slipping up your folds and teasing your puckered hole before moving back down and curling inside your pretty cunt.

"c'mon, luv...c'mon, give it to me...give it to me, 'm not gonna ask again--"

you sobbed into the cushion as you came, rocking back against his mouth. you giggled with pleasure as you slid onto your stomach, simon's hands dragging your panties back up as he pressed soft kisses to the meat of your ass.

"'f someone comes around askin', sweetheart, you know what to tell'm."

you belong to a ghost. and that isn't a lie.

[echoalyssa]

Counterparts | Brian O’Conner

The night air is warm, almost comforting. The city of Los Angeles seemed to have decided to go to sleep tonight. The city, normally bustling with life, was quiet, peaceful. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks up at the moon.

I’m standing in front of Mercy Park’s garage checking the oil level of my bike. My brother Logan is lingering by the bay doors, rearranging a stack of Husky jacks that really did not need to be rearranged. He was skeptical about me going riding with someone outside of our crew, but I had known Brian for years.

He drove with Dominic Toretto. Toretto’s crew were technically our rivals as we worked out of the same part of LA. Though Dom and Kaneko, the leader of the Mercy Park Crew, had come to an agreement to coexist.

We’d decided to leave the JDM’s at home tonight. It was perfect weather to take the bikes out and we’d both been neglecting the machines.

         The loud thrum of Brian’s bike alerts me that he is around the corner. I glance at Logan and narrow my eyes at him, begging him to go back inside and talk to Toby or Ximena. He was ridiculously worried about Brian considering his girlfriend’s dad was the cop who had almost brought us all in. 

Brian comes around the corner and pulls into the garage’s parking lot. He nudges the kickstand out with his right booted foot and then turns the key in the ignition to shut the machine off. He tugs his helmet off, revealing his blonde curls and striking blue eyes. The smile that he aims at me is intoxicating.

He dismounts his bike and crosses the distance towards me. I open my arms for him immediately. His arms go around my waist, and I loop mine around his neck. He smells like oil mixed with an earthy undertone. Brian holds me for a good minute before he steps back and flashes me with that grin again. 

“It’s been too long.” He glances over your shoulder and raises his hand in a wave, “Hey Logan!”

I hear the garage door close and know that my brother has finally left us alone.

“You look good.” I murmur back to him. And he does, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. He has his steel toes on and a thin gold chair dangles around his neck. He’s showered recently, his hair bearing the signs of water. Though somehow there is a dirt smudge just under his jaw, as if he just can’t quite seem to stay away from the grime of working on cars.

Brian pokes the tip of my nose with his index finger and then glances at the garage behind me. He tilts his head in the direction of the street. Even though both crews were on good terms did not mean that we should be hanging out together in broad view.

I pull my hair into a loose braid before sliding my helmet on. Brian starts his bike again, throwing a leg over. He maneuvers it backwards so that he can pull back out onto the road. It’s currently wrapped in white with the signature Toretto decals on the gas tank.

My own bike, a Kawasaki Ninja is blacked out. I went for stealth. The machine roars to life underneath me. Brian nods in my direction and together we rev the engines before taking off down the road.

I let Brian lead; I didn’t mind where we went as long as I would get an adrenaline rush. He takes us through a few side streets before we hit the ramp to the highway. He turns his head, checking to make sure that I am still behind him.

The second he confirms that I am still following behind him like his little shadow, he tucks and takes off down the empty highway. My heart soars as I accelerate after him. The red needle on my speedometer quickly craws into the triple digits.

We’re absolutely soaring, breaking felony speeds, but neither of us have plates. The wind whips his t-shirt around, making the fabric crawl upward so it bunches around his chest and exposes the hard planes of muscle. 

There aren’t many people out on the highway, but we weave through the ones that are. We’re perfectly in sync, reading each other’s movements without needing to communicate. I give the throttle a little more and go surging past him, but only for a moment. He overtakes me. It continues like this for miles, each of us going for the lead. The city is a blur around us.

I outstretch a hand to the wind, feeling the way it pushes my arm back in because of the speed. Anyone who saw us together must have been in awe, we give off an almost ethereal aura. Yin and Yang. Light and dark. One and the same.

We were brothers. But bound by more than blood. We were twins as well. Counterparts. Gangster princes of the city we met.

No amount of words could describe the perfection of the moment between the two of us. A picture would do no justice.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, one mistake and we would be dead, but there was no fear. Only the urge to go faster, to push the limits. That was the thing about Brian, he understood. That if speed was to lead to our demise, we would go out smiling.

Almost too soon, Brian drops a hand to his side, signaling that he is going to take the next exit ramp. He leans into the turn and checks once more, that I’m behind him. We maneuver down a few side roads and then come to a stop atop a hill. The stars are bright tonight, almost defying nature. 

Brian dismounts his bike first, and then he’s in front of me. I haven’t even finished setting up my kickstand before his hands are pulling my helmet off and his lips are brushing against mine. I sigh into him, trusting that I can tip toe the bike and kiss him back. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of my chest

He pulls away but rests his forehead against mine, his fingers brush the strands of hair that had escaped my braid back behind my ears. “I missed you.”

The only response I can find is to pull him back towards me. There wasn’t much time to spare for either of us, both crews were constantly traveling for boosts, but the time that we did have together… we savored it. Loyalties to the crews aside, the two of us would always come back to one another.

[soulofapatrick]

Home Is Where The Heart Is - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: After a brutal fight against raiders with Ellie you feel like your bond with her and everyone in town is broken but Joel is there to show you otherwise

Words: 3k

Warnings; blood; injury

Notes: Platonic Ellie x reader too. I need more of this Joel; long salt and pepper hair and scruff cuz fuuuuckkk me man he looks fine af 

Y/N’s POV

People stop and stare as we make our way back into town, Ellie’s sat upon Indiana with the two kids, trotting behind us. One is cradled in her arms being only four and the other is behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. She’s wild eyed and clinging to the four year old like a lifeline while I have the mother stumbling beside me, arm over my shoulder as I take most of her weight and Indiana’s reins are wrapped around my left arm so Ellie can keep the kids safe. We’re covered in blood, me the most as I may have gone on a killing rampage after finding the kids locked up in those cages. 

Tommy and Maria are rushing towards us, the gates slamming shut behind Indiana and causing the kids to cry out in fear, my heart breaking even more. Others are joining us, Jesse escorting the mother towards the makeshift hospital Jackson has with a promise her kids will be safe and reunited with her shortly but she needed medical care first. The reins are being taken from me and I’m stepping towards Ellie who is standing by Tommy, the kid still cradled in her arms, and she takes a step back. My world comes crashing down right then and there, the look of fear in her clover eyes when she sees me moving towards her, it draws a lump in my throat and I’m digging my nails into my palms to keep myself calm. Dina’s putting a hand on my arm, being one of the only people to know about my past and why I was so triggered by the raiders keeping this family hostage. 

I’m throwing a glance back at Ellie when Dina begins leading me away, watching how Tommy and Maria are tending to her and the kids until they disappear around a corner. Dina’s firm hand in mine being the only thing grounding me from breaking down right then and there in the snow as I don’t know if I want to cry or scream or both. I’m angry and I’m hurt and I’m not good with emotions so all I can do is focus on her tight grip on my hand as she leads me home. 

“N-no, Dina we can’t… Ellie-“ My voice cracks at Ellie’s name. She won’t want me being in the same house as her anymore. The look in her eyes said it all back there and I know… she won’t ever look at me the same way again let alone look at me.

“We need to wash the blood away and I’m sure Joel will want to know.” She steels me with a stern look as I pull against her hand, digging in my heels but somehow she’s overpowering me and pulling me up the porch steps. She doesn’t hesitate to dive a hand into my pockets and pull out my keys so she can let us in. Joel’s jumping up when he sees me covered in still drying blood, mouth open in protest but silenced by Dina holding a hand up to him before she turns back to me, “Shoes off and go run yourself a shower. Now.” 

I don’t argue, toeing off my boots and heading for the stairs, keeping my eyes down and shaking off Joel’s hand that reaches out to touch my shoulder lightly. The soft sound of emotional hurt he makes is another stab in my gut but this time they’ve twisted the knife and the floodgates of blood and tears all at once. I’m trying to hold in the sob as I sprint up the stairs, hearing the quiet mumbles of Joel and Dina and wanting to drown them out. My heart is pounding in my ears and I’m struggling to breathe, stumbling into the bathroom door before slipping to my knees inside. I’m having a panic attack and I try so hard to remember the tricks Tommy taught me, pressing the flat of my palms to the freezing porcelain, focusing on the contrast of temperature against my burning skin. Hands touch my shoulders and I’m spinning around, pinning them down until I realise it’s Dina. She doesn’t flinch and there’s no fear or hatred in her gaze and I’m falling, my cheek pressing to the cold floor as she watches. She leans over and brushes a strand of my blood-matted hair off my forehead and I’m squeezing my eyes shut to try and stop crying but it doesn’t work. 

Dina’s pulling herself to her feet and I wait to hear the bathroom door open and close but instead the sound of the shower being turned on reaches my ears and the heavy pounding of the water against the bottom of the bath seems to blur out any possibility of thoughts. The comforting sound of the water mixed with the cool tiles calms my heart rate enough to drag myself into a sitting position, eyes sliding open to see Dina watching me from where she’s sat atop the counter, waiting me patiently to come around. Her smile is soft, her curls more prominent in the steam the hot shower is producing and I want to cry again but I can’t. It’s not the time. 

“Ellie’s scared of me.” I croak, voice sounding wrecked and Dina’s gaze soften as she gently shakes her head, watching me pull myself to my feet, legs shaking from exhaustion. My hands tremble as I struggle with the buttons on my shirt until familiar hands are slapping mine away and deft fingers make quick work of it, helping me slide it off and it goes straight in the bin. I manage to kick my jeans off and Dina turns away so I slip out of my underwear and into the welcoming warmth of the shower. It draws a sound from my lips as my muscles begin to ache and the open wounds that adorn my skin let themselves knows. All I can focus my attention on is the way the water runs red, not stopping or fading back to clear until Dina’s sighing and she surprises me by stepping into the shower with me but fully dressed. 

I should be yelling at her, asking what the fuck she’s doing but I can’t muster the energy to. Jesse; Dina and I have a pretty chill friendship and we’ve had to look after each other after particularly tough patrols or raiders getting into Jackson. Jesse had to help Dina snap out of her shock one time after her first kill of a raider and the three of us just sat in the bathroom, Jesse cleaning the blood and mud from Dina while I had my back to the door. It was the first time I had truly felt comfortable around people and I trusted them with my life, loving to see how happy Jesse and Dian were together. I hope Jesse doesn’t kill me for this, I’m the one who’s naked not Dina but it still feels strangely intimate. Dina’s definitely pretty but I’m not one to swing that way, especially with the weird bond thing Joel and I have. 

“Joel?” I ask as Dina massages the shampoo into my scalp the water running even redder than before and my eyes are slamming shut because Ellie’s right. I am a monster. 

“He’s gone to talk to Tommy,” She coos soothingly before speaking up again, a smirk in her voice as she washes the shampoo out and moves onto the conditioner, “What was he doing waiting in your house anyway, with a key by the looks of it.” 

“I…” I have to actually pause as I’m not sure why Joel was waiting for me here. I usually come back from patrol, shower then head down the road to his for dinner, “I don’t know.” 

“Well, he was so worried, thought you were hurt,” She grinning, I can feel it without turning around, shivering when she rinses the conditioner out and runs her fingers through my hair to tease out any more knots clinging together. It hurts but I don’t even wince as I deserve it after what I did today, “Joel was ready to shove me aside and come up but I didn’t think you’d want him seeing you so vulnerable just yet.” 

The shower is turned off and Dina’s stepping out, leaving the room dripping wet head to toe before a towel is flung through a crack into door and I hear her race to the spare room as both her and Jesse keep spare clothes in mine. The privacy giving me time to dry myself and pad to my room, shutting the door behind me with a soft click as Dina’s footsteps can be heard on the steps before the familiar sound of the kettle boiling is following. 

“I’m staring at myself in the cracked mirror an ache in my chest as the person I once knew is not the person staring back at me. Instead, it’s someone with bags under her eyes and a heavy weight of the past crushing them, leaving their mouth constantly turned downwards, eyes dull and eyebrows always in a scowl, no brightness or warmth to any part of them. Staring back is a shell of the person you once used to be, learning to slowly adapt and love again within the safe confines of Jackson. The walls may keep me safe but seeing others, like the mother and sons in pain and danger, makes me feel selfish for trying to be happy and build a life when they’re getting tortured and killed everyday. The scar across my cheek reminds me that I was once the person chained up and tortured for information I didn’t have and I was the one being saved by Tommy like I did that family. Maybe… Just maybe there is a possibility I deserve love and-

The opening and closing of the front door has me shaking my head, grabbing the first clothes I find in my drawers and haphazardly pulling them on: it’s a pair of grey baggy sweatpants and a somewhat matching sweatshirt in a deep blue colour. I’m drawing my damp hair up into a ponytail and before I can even open the door to head downstairs and find out why Dina left my bedroom door is being pushed open. Crowding the doorway is an almost shy looking Joel, salt and pepper hair shining in the sunset pouring through my window, beard finally having joined his hair in colour over the last year, tanned skin warm and glowing and a light pink dusting his cheeks. He’s still got his brown winter jacket on and that worn baby blue scarf tucked into it and if I weren’t so worried about Ellie hating me and the family I brought in I’d be on my knees for him already. I haven’t got much resolve after today and the things this man and his large hands do to me is almost embarrassing. He’s holding a steaming mug of what smells like coffee and the mug looks tiny wrapped in his hand.

“I-I thought you might like some company?” Joel’s stuttering and blushing and I’m just nodding, moving to my bed and he follows, setting the cup on my bedside table. He’s moving back to close the bedroom door, shrugging off that jacket and scarf to put them across my desk chair before finally sitting on the edge of my bed. I don’t think twice about pulling him down so he’s laying on his back and slotting myself under his left arm, laying my head on his chest over his heart so I can feel it beating comfortingly against my ear, “I’ve got you.” He coos, fingers gently pulling the hair tie from my hair so he can card his fingers through it and my eyes are fluttering shut when his blunt nails massage my scalp. 

“Ellie hates me now, doesn’t she?” My voice shakes and I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see his expression as he continues to soothe my hair and scalp. 

“She doesn’t hate you, she just needs some time to process. She’s never seen you…” He trails off, chest rumbling when I push a hand under his shirt, feeling his soft stomach rise and fall with every breath. He may not have a six pack but he is in no way unfit, his pecs well defined and if you run your hands over his chest you can feel the beginnings of six packs but he’s perfect the way he is: equal parts buff and soft. 

I’m gasping softly when the rough pads of his fingers ghost over my cheek, drawing me up to meet his gaze, honey eyes soft and warm as they search my face. Gentle fingers traces the scar down my cheek, nothing on his face but warmth and… love? It’s almost overwhelming and I’m letting my eyes slide shut, leaving into his warm palm that is now gripping my jaw, parting my lips when his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. His name tumbles from my lips in a broken whine and it’s as if the world is answering my prayers when plump lips meet mine in a soft kiss. My hands find the thick scruff of his beard, dragging my nails lightly through it and eliciting an addictive sound that I swallow. Moving my hands to tangle in his hair and pull lightly, deepening the kiss and opening my mouth for his searching tongue. Joel surrounds me in every way, his scent intoxicating, lips tasting of coffee as if he’d stolen a sip or two on his way up the stairs and his kisses leaving me dizzy with wanting more. 

He’s pulling back too soon, stopping my lips from chasing his like I want to and honey eyes darker as he whispers out, “Y/N stop, I…” He takes a deep breath, hand cupping my cheek and thumb rubbing my cheekbone, “I want this, you don’t know how crazy I am for you but you’ve just been through something big… I want to know your feelings back are real and not just… not just adrenaline.” 

“Stay the night?” I rush out, chest heaving with nerves and his eyes search my face again before he’s nodding and rearranging us so he’s spooning me. His left arm is under my neck, tucking it under my pillows so I can use both as a pillow and his right is resting on my hip but it’s not enough. I’m intertwining our fingers, pulling them to my lips to kiss his knuckles before letting our interlocked hands settle over my heart, a small smile on my lips when he presses a kiss to my neck and begins to whisper soothingly until my eyes are growing heavy. 

*

Rolling onto my back, stretching, I’m greeted by Joel watching me with a soft look in his eyes, propped up on his elbow and fingers moving to brush my hair out of my face as he speaks quietly, as if trying to not ruin the moment, “Hey there baby girl.” 

“Hey Joel,” I whisper back, raising myself to lean on my elbows, our lips a hair’s breadth away and his breath fanning over my face as I say the three words he wants to hear, “I meant it.” His lips are meeting mine in a gentle kiss, beard scraping against my chin and cheek but I would gladly suffer all the beard burn in the world to have him kissing me the way he is. He’s laying me back down and slotting himself over me, our bodies fitting together like a prefect jigsaw puzzle and the strangely comforting mix of burnt coffee, a woodsy musk I know is his cologne and something citrusy sweet has me reeling. I’m tugging at Joel’s bedhead, loving the longer look he has adopted over the last few months and my breath is being stolen with every push and pull of those tantalising lips. 

“Y/N!” The door flies open and Joel’s rolling to sit next to me as we jump apart, Ellie standing in the doorway. Her mouth is hung open as her clover eyes flit between me and Joel, my heart pounding so loud I think they both can hear it as Joel’s placing a calming hand over mine. Ellie’s face twists and soon enough she’s beaming as she yells, “FUCK YEAH I GET TO CALL Y/N MUM!”

Mum?

“You don’t hate me?” I ask quietly as she sits on the bottom of the bed, legs crossed and facing us. Guilt fills those bright eyes but she’s shaking her head and I’m yanking her into a hug that I really need. She laughs sweetly, throwing her arms around my shoulders and burying her face in the crook of my neck. 

“I could never hate you Mom. You mean too much to me, you were protecting us,” She pulls back, hand holding one of mine, “I was pretty badass the way you shot down every single one.” 

“I love you.” I whisper, glancing between her and Joel and they both smile. Before I can ask they’re both tackling me into a hug and I just relinquish any fight I was going to put up as this is what I want. Ellie’s curled up in my arms between me and Joel as he looks at me with one emotion I never thought I’d get from him: Love. 

It fills my chest with pride and I’m reaching out for Joel over Ellie’s now passed out form and he’s meeting me halfway, interlocking our fingers and pressing a kiss to my forehead over Ellie. This is really happening. I have to blink a few time in shock as yeah, Ellie is asleep between me and Joel and there’s a new found sense of place and belonging filling every corner of this house. Maybe things will be okay. They work out in the end. 

Always. 

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

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[locking-the-tomb]

Third Read Notes & Soundtrack

I wallowed for about 14 hours after finishing my Nona reread and decided to start over again and write myself some summaries during The Wait.

Gideon the Ninth Chapter 1

In which we learn Gideon is a goob but we love her.

Gideon is escaping. She stole a security cuff key but left the cuff on until the morning of. She's taking her sword, her "shoes" - later called steel toed boots- , and her smut mags. Her clothes are all synthetics. She has enough hair to brush. She knows about chocolates and fancy hotels, somehow ... from mags? From Wake/mom's niche is 22 flights of stairs up to the landing field, which is still at the bottom of a deep tunnel. There are lamps on but they're low. She's kicking apart lumps of "rubble" but that's not further described. She eats porridge from a plastic bag then throws the bag over a rail somewhere. There's a balcony area. Skeletons with red eyes go to pick snow leeks.

There are white castle doors at the bottom, "three bodies wide and six bodies tall". She talks about the figures carved into the area above the doors and remembers screaming as a kid about them creeping her out. I wonder what they are, maybe related to the killed generation? How much trauma from a two year old survivor of all the kids dying?

Muster call (20 Bells) calls back the skeletons.

That's when the Marshall/Crux stomps in to accuse her. Gideon says, "say my shuttle exploded, I died and it was such a shame". 😳 (Crux thinks great idea, will do) Introduces Frontline Titties of the Fifth. He calls her chattel. He wears a big knife over a shoulder.

He gives an impressive number of threats. Gideon wasn't bothered by Crux's threats. But then he invoked Harrow and her "palms prickled". He leaves and Aiglamene enters. Gideon says she's tried to enlist 33 times. Aiglamene has a badly repaired missing leg and a scarred face.

Gideon lists what's happened when she's tried to leave before: jammed in lift, turned off heat frostbite in three toes, poisoned. She clarifies that she's indentured not a slave and claims she's not of fiscal use there. She says she will "you can quote me 'do my duty to the ninth' ". Gideon goes on a rant about "your lady" with a host of great insults, then gets slapped.

"Nobody had ever loved her in the ninth". Aiglamene was the reason she got to have a sword and training. "I'm naturally demeaning". Aiglamene walks away and Gideon falters a bit but sticks.

"Nav was a Niner name". Mentions the prison as a bubble halfway up in the atmosphere. At the end of the chapter we get the limited story of day-old Gideon being in a bio container plugged into the suit of a braindead woman who had fallen in a suit down the shaft 18 years ago. None of the Ninth necromancers could get her ghost to do more than scream Gideon three times then she fled.

"They chipped her, surnamed her, and put her in the nursery". I don't think they mention the chips again, interesting. She was kid #201. Where did the kids come from? Had they been harvesting gametes and growing them? Because the "old" people going into the doors were heavily outnumbered by skeletons. Then two years later it was just her, Harrow (who still hasn't been directly introduced as other then Lady), and Ortus. By 10 she "knew too much and that she could never be allowed to go". Of course. Because that's when Harrow had opened the tomb and her parents had died. She had started trying to escape when she was 4.

Thoughts. What's up with all the plastic? Isn't plastic from petroleum? How would Pluto have petroleum?

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 8

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. PSA!! I re-worked the last scene in the previous chapter! (It's just different dialogue and a lot of it was cut to fix the pacing.)

Anyway. Very excited to share this chapter! :)

We spend all day scavenging.

Apparently some people want to start heading to Fort Benning, but Rick wants to stock up before we even think about it. We can't really drive across half the state when we don't even got toilet paper, after all; let alone food or gas.

He leads us from town to town, stopping at random shops, houses, and doctor's offices along the way, in search of supplies. Everybody stays behind in the cars, keeping watch, while the men drag themselves into building after building, coming back more empty-handed each time. I can tell it's starting to weigh on Rick. The last thing anyone ate was that potato salad, and our water bottles are all pretty much empty. We're hungry, tired; miserable — A group made up of growling stomachs and parched mouths.

Ahead of us on the road, Rick honks once and sticks his arm out the driver's window, pointing to a small supermarket he wants to loot.

He takes a left turn, and we all follow him into the parking lot, ready to rinse and repeat.

Everybody parks in front of the store.

My Dad shuts the engine off.

"I'll be back in a bit." He gruffly tells me, pocketing the keys. "Be good. Don't go nowhere unless it's with Dale."

"Okay, Dad."

"And if a walker comes up to the truck, what're you gonna do?"

I sigh. "Scream real loud."

We've been having this exact exchange all day, every time he leaves. We don't talk about nothin' else.

We're not really on good terms, but we're not really arguing, neither.

I think we're at a truce.

That's what happens when two people really want to fight but are deciding not to.

He slowly nods.

Then he grabs his crossbow, hops out, and slams the door behind him.

I watch him re-group with the other men, and they walk off together for the fifteenth time today. It's a pretty dismal routine.

I pass the time waiting for them to come back by reading my book. Dad found it for me back at the book shop. I've been reading it all day. It's about a scruffy cartoon dog named Hairy Maclary, and back home, I used to have almost the entire collection. I think it's why he picked this one. Reading it gives me a familiar comfort that he can't give me right now. It even makes me forget about how hungry I am after a while.

Beside me on the middle seat, there's a pile of other things my Dad's scavenged so far.

On the bottom is an ocean-themed blanket, two pillows, and an armful of clothes that he found in a stranger's house. When we sifted through them, I found a pair of socks that fit me. I slipped them on underneath my new boots. I also found some black jean-shorts and a big, green shirt with a purple frog on it. Frogs are pretty cool. I shimmied them both on to replace my pyjamas. Dad found himself a new pair of steel-toe boots, grey jeans, and a button-up that he ripped the sleeves off. We kept the rest of the clothes as spares.

There's also a half-empty box of bullets, a hammer, craft scissors, and one battery, which took him all morning to accumulate.

My tummy gurgles as I turn the page.

Nobody's found any food yet.

If we could eat batteries or bullets, we wouldn't be so hungry right now, but that's not how it works.

Sighing, I continue re-reading Hairy Maclary for the fifth time today, savouring it by painstakingly studying each picture.

It wastes about ten minutes.

"Whatchu readin'?"

I jump.

Whipping my head to the right, I see Shane walking toward the truck. Oh, God. He just might be the last person I wanna talk to right now.

He reaches the open window and casually crosses his arms over it, but his cheerful demeanour doesn't rub off on me. I try to scoot backward, but the pile of clothes quickly gets in the way. He's standing way too close to me. If he leaned forward just a little, the brim of his cap would touch the side of my head. I don't like that. His military dog tag twinkles innocently in the sunlight. Walsh, it winks at me.

Randomly, I become aware of the fact that there's nobody else around. Something about that isn't right.

"What are you doin'?" I ask.

Don't he know my Dad will shoot him for talkin' to me?

"Oh, you know." He shrugs, smiling. "Thought I'd clock out for a bit, maybe take a lil' break. Nothin' crazy."

Uh... sure.

I don't think Rick would let anybody take a quick break. Not in the sorry state we're in right now. No way. I think he's out here in secret.

He nods toward my book. "So? Whatchu readin'?"

Silence.

"Looks good." He jokes. "I'm a lil' jealous, actually. Maybe once you're done, I'll have to borrow it off ya, huh?"

More silence.

I fold the book in my lap, shielding it from his eyes. I wish I could do the same to my entire body. I don't wanna be doin' this right now. It's like being in the CDC again, that awkward stand-off cloaked in darkness — Only this time, we're in broad daylight.

He clears his throat.

"Your, uh—? Your Dad find that for you?"

"I—"

This is makin' me mad, now. Don't he remember how angry my Dad got before? Does he wanna get shot?

He might be acting stupid, but I won't make the same mistake twice.

Shane is not my friend. Shane is a bastard cop, and I hate him, 'cause I hate bastard cops. I really, really hate bastard cops. Looking at him makes me angry. It makes me even angrier than lookin' at Rick made me, and Rick killed my Uncle Merle, but Shane — Shane ruined everything. He's the reason the car rides are silent now. He's the reason my Dad doesn't feel like the same person no more. He's the reason I couldn't just get belted and be done with it. He just had to walk in. Bastard cop.

He's supposed to save people, but I don't feel very saved.

I just feel angry.

"I ain't talkin' to you." I muster up the dirtiest, nastiest glare I got. "You're a cop. A bastard cop."

His eyes widen.

He wasn't expecting that.

"I'm—" His brows shoot up, and he lifts one hand in surrender. "Harley, I'm just a friend. I'm just here talkin' to you as a friend, okay?"

"You ain't my friend."

"Well, I like to think that you're my friend. And... friends worry 'bout each other, don't they?"

He's worried about me?

I see where this is going.

I don't wanna talk about what happened at the CDC.

"You ain't," I sneer, "My friend. How many times I gotta tell ya?"

I pretend to go back to reading my book, 'cause I want him to go away — just like I wanted him to go away when we were in the CDC. When he talks to me like this, Shane makes me feel like a wobbly tower of cards, ready to fall. He makes me feel like everything I ever knew was just a fairytale, or a straight up lie, like Santa Claus and the Easter bunny. He makes me feel like I'm someone worth feeling sorry for; someone who needs saving.

Well, I don't need saving. He's just gonna have to go save someone else if he wants to do it so bad.

I've been staring at the same word for a whole minute, puffing angrily out my nostrils. I hold the book so tightly that the pages start to crinkle under my thumbs, stretching thin, thin, thin, until they're about to rip under the pressure.

Leave me alone, I wanna scream in his face.

"Can I ask you a question, Harley?" 

I take a deep breath, glowering up at him through my bangs.

He glowers right back.

"Is your Daddy your friend?"

"Wh—?"

The page rips.

"'Cause I can tell you what friends don't do." He raises his brows, leaning closer. "I can tell you that friends don't pin ya down 'till you're crying, Harley. I can tell you friends don't shout; don't make ya feel scared. They don't whip ya with belts, Harley. Is that what you think friends do?"

I struggle to speak. I feel like I'm being accused of somethin' I didn't even do.

"I don't kn—"

"Yes, you do. Lemme ask you again." Shane cuts me off. "Your Dad. Is he your friend?"

Yes, is my immediate thought, and I'm— I'm angry again, 'cause this is exactly what I'm talkin' about when I say Shane makes me feel like everything is a confusing trick. I don't like this question. I don't like that he's even asking it. Yes, my Dad is my friend.

I'm overwhelmed with the sudden urge to defend everything he's ever done.

I open my mouth to answ—

"No." He answers for me — Sharp, like a scolding. "No, Harley. He is not your friend."

"Yeah, he is." I'm shocked. "He is my friend."

I love him. If Shane thinks he can just walk over here and start bad-mouthing my Dad, then he's wrong, 'cause it's not gonna work.

"No. He's not." Shane scolds again, but I refuse to listen to him. I'm reminded of my old teachers again. Whenever I was flunking a simple math question, they'd get angry at me, but they couldn't show it 'cause that's not very nice, so they'd settle for sighing and speaking to me very slowly, instead. That's what Shane does. "I know you think he's your friend. I know you think you love him. I'm not saying you don't, sweetheart, okay? I'm not saying that. I'm saying sometimes friends hurt us, Harley, and we need to have a good, hard think about whether or not we want 'em to keep hurtin' us."

"Well—? I—?"

I realize I don't have anything to say. I have a good, hard think about what he means, instead. A friend? A friend hurting me? I think he means my Dad. Yeah. My Dad's my friend and he hurts me, sometimes. It not that hard to understand. At least it wasn't, not until Shane came along and started lookin' at my Dad like he was some type of monster. The dead people, they're monsters, but not my Dad. I swear it's that simple.

"I don't wanna talk about this." I grumble, glaring down at Hairy Maclary as he chases a butterfly.

"Well, I think we gotta, Harley." Shane insists. "This is important. I'm tryna to help you here."

"I don't need your help."

"Why's that?" He asks patiently.

"Because I don't care 'bout any of that stuff." I'm hating all of this. "I ain't scared'a him."

"You see, I don't believe that." He squints. "I don't think you believe that, either."

I am not afraid. I just have to believe this.

"Yeah, I do." I argue.

"Harley—"

"Yeah, I do."

He gets frustrated, gripping the windowsill.

"'Dad, I'm scared'." He quotes. "That's what you said. That's what you said to him, Harley."

Oh. He heard that. Of course he heard that.

"Well, y-yeah, 'cause I was scared of the dark." I dismiss. "It didn't mean anything. Who cares?"

"You're scared—? You're scared of the dark? You're scared of the dark. Okay. Okay." He takes a step back, rubbing his hands down his face, collecting himself. He laughs but he's not finding anything about this funny. He grabs the window again, harder this time. "You really think I don't remember how you ran off in'a them woods and we all had to high-tail it after you, that night camp got over-run? How it was pitch-black, and you didn't even hesitate? You're not scared of the dark, Harley. Don't lie to me. I don't want my friends to lie to me."

"You're ain't my friend." I groan. "Sophia is my friend. Glenn is my friend. My Dad is my friend. Not you."

"You know what?" Shane gives the door a shake. "Why is that, I wonder? Why am I not your friend, but he is?"

Finally, a question that isn't confusing.

"Because he's my Dad, that's why."

I expect Shane to answer straight away, but he doesn't. He just stands there, raising his brows higher and higher with each second that passes. I frown at him, waiting for him to do something. Eventually, he just shrugs. "That's it?" He sasses me. "That's all you got?"

Well... Yeah.

He's my Dad. Is that not enough?

"He protects me." I'm quick to add. "He makes sure I'm safe. He cares about me. He does up my buttons."

"Anybody can do that." He scoffs. "I can do that."

"No. No, you can't."

"Gimme one good reason why."

"'Cause you're a—"

"And don't gimme any more of that bastard cop nonsense, 'cause I don't wanna hear it. Gimme something real." He makes a fist and beats his knuckles against his breast pocket. "Somethin' from in here. Somethin' from the heart, Harley. Somethin' you haven't heard anybody else say first."

Stumped for words, I try wracking my brain. He's a bastard cop. No, I can't say that.

"Come on." Shane pressures me. "Somethin'. Gimme somethin'."

I go through all the reasons I shouldn't want Shane as a friend.

He's mean? No, Shane isn't mean. I had fun catching frogs with him, and he was even gonna build me a tyre swing before we got forced out of the quarry. He constantly puts himself in danger to provide for the group. He looked after Carl and Lori when Rick couldn't. No. He's not mean, but my Dad doesn't want me to be friends with him. My Dad's word is law. That's a good reason. Yeah. I'll say that.

"It's not allowed." I tell him. "That's why."

"What does that mean?" Shane scoffs. "Do you even know, or is this just him speaking again?"

Oh. It is. I'm just recycling things I've heard before.

Why am I doin' that?

Whatever. I'll think of something else.

"Uh—" I struggle. "You-? You're—?"

I can't come up with anything.

Shane shrugs. "You don't have anythin' else for me?"

"You're—"

A bastard cop.

It all comes down to those three same words.

"You're-You're-You're—" Shane mocks me. "Come on, girl. Think."

I give up.

"I can't, okay?" I finally snap, and in one big huff of anger, I throw my book at his chest. He was right. I can't think of any reason why I should hate him. Not even one. All my thoughts are my Dad's thoughts, and when I try to create new ones, it's just a twisted mess of words and ideas that have never even come outta my own mouth before, only in through my ears. It's just a trick. It's impossible. "You win, okay? There's no reason for me to hate you. S'that what you wanna hear?"

"Finally." He chuckles, picking my book up off the ground. "Good. Good girl. That's what I'm talkin' about."

He holds it out to me.

I snatch it off him.

"I don't hate you." I grouch. "Never did. You win."

"Nah, I think you won." Shane rests his hip against the door with his arms crossed. "You learnt somethin' new just now."

"What?"

He looks like he's proud of me when he says, "How to think for yourself."

How to think for yourself.

What does that mean?

My Dad never taught me how to do that, I don't think. He's taught me everything else I know, like how to skin fish, use a compass, and do up my laces, but he hasn't taught me this. Shane taught me this. I guess I've graduated from learning how to catch frogs. This is a little trickier, but I think I understand. Thinking for myself is like a game — Say something Dad has never told me to say. I don't think I'm very good at it.

I must look a little unsure, 'cause he reassures me, "This is good. This is the first step of somethin' really good for you, okay?"

"Really?" I ask.

Shane seems to know a lot about this.

"Really." He smiles. "Now does this mean you're gonna drop that whole I-hate-your-guts act?"

"Oh. Um..."

I really want to hate Shane. It makes everything so much easier. If we're not friends, then that means I don't have to listen to him talk about what happened at the CDC, and I never wanna talk about that again. But I said it myself, just now. There is no good reason to hate him. He ain't mean, he ain't bad at protecting people, and he definitely doesn't hate me back. He wants to be my friend.

If I don't accept, I'll just be making myself look like an idiot.

I guess he tricked me into becoming friends. I don't know how he did that, but it worked.

"Fine. I'll be your friend." I give in, smiling lightly. It feels a little like admitting defeat, but also like breaking free of something I was stuck in. I don't like hating people. If Dad didn't do it first, I don't think would have ever hated Shane. "But on one condition."

I hold up a finger, putting on a serious face.

Shane smiles, "Shoot."

He's looking at me like no matter what I say right now, he's already gotten what he wants.

"My Dad can't know."

This is very important. I might not hate Shane, even if I am still annoyed with him, but my Dad hates him. He also hated Ronnie, and Ronnie ended up in a grassy ditch in the woods behind our house, with his face beaten to a lumpy, sticky pulp. I don't want that to happen to Shane.

"You know, you're a very smart girl, Harley." Shane lowers his voice. "That's right. Your Dad can't know."

I nervously pick at the skin on my lip. "I've never kept a secret from my Dad before."

"That's alright." Shane soothes. "That's good. That means you're a good person. I'm a good person, too. But this here is our secret now, okay?"

"So, we're friends now? You promise not to tell?"

"That's right." He says. "I promise. You know why?"

"Why?"

"'Cause I won't ever do anythin' to put you in danger, Harley. I want you to remember that."

He puts his hand on my shoulder.

I won't let anything happen to you.

That's somethin' Dads say to kids. That's something my Dad's said to me. But Shane's not my Dad. He's not anybody's Dad.

When we first arrived at the quarry, I remember thinking that Shane and Lori were Carl's parents. Whenever the other kids wanted to play with Carl, they would always go ask permission from them, just like they'd ask permission from Carol if they wanted to play with Sophia. They'd also hover around him all day, making sure he wasn't getting into trouble, and put him in time-out when he was.

Only parents are allowed to do those things. 

I think Shane also thought he was Carl's Dad, 'cause when Rick returned and he wasn't allowed to do those things anymore, he seemed sad.

"Like... how you protected Carl?" I guess.

He gives me a squeeze before letting go.

"Yeah. A little like that."

"But why? Why do you wanna be friends so bad?"

He thinks about it for a minute.

Eventually, he settles on an answer.

"Because we both know it wasn't the dark you were afraid of, sweetheart." He tells me, sighing. "That's why."

I look down at my boots, embarrassed.

It wasn't the dark I was scared of. It was my Dad.

I guess Shane figured it out faster than I thought he would.

I hate that I can't lie to Shane like I can lie to myself. He must've been real good at interrogating people.

"Earlier, you asked me why I'm out here — Why I'm talking to you." Shane says now. I look up at him. "I'm doing it because no one else will. Not Rick. Not Lori. Not Glenn. Not Sophia. Not even your Dad. None of your other friends can help you the way I can, Harley, because they didn't see what happened in that room. They don't know, but I do. And that's very special to me, okay? It's special to me because it means I can help you. And I needed to make sure you were my friend before that can happen."

I start to frown. I do not want his help. That wasn't part of the deal.

Shane gives me a serious look, like he can tell what I want to say. "I know you don't want my help. I know you're angry. You're confused, and I get that. That's okay. But you need to understand that as your friend, I want what's best for you. And what's best for you, right now, is for you to realize that there is someone here who knows what you're going through. Someone who... just wants to help. Someone who's on your side."

I don't know how he plans on helping me. I don't wanna know, either. Cops puts people in jail. There's no jail anymore, but there is rope, and there are places to tie people up — Like shopping cart bays. Jim. I remember how he thrashed. I remember his screaming. I don't want Shane to get beaten, but I also don't want my Dad to get left. I have to choose one. I'm sick of choosing, but I have to. I know who I'm gonna pick.

"Shane, I know we're friends now, but my Dad is my number one friend." I really hope he understands. "Please don't do nothin'. Please don't help."

This makes Shane angry.

He licks his teeth; works his jaw.

I can tell he's already tryna puzzle out how he's gonna trick me into agreeing to this next.

"Please." I ask nicely. "We can still be friends. We can color together. I don't have my crayons no more, but I think Rick found some pencils, before. We can use those. I'll let you do my hair, too, if you want. We can even play tag. Just please don't take my Dad away."

When my Dad got taken away for killing Ronnie, I was sad almost every single day until he came back.

"I need him." I tell Shane. "I love him. Please don't help."

He just keeps giving me that angry look.

I recognize this look, I realize.

It's the look he gave my Dad at the CDC.

Blood-lust.

I realize I'm begging for the wrong thing.

Shane's not gonna take my Dad away.

He's gonna kill him, just like I thought. That's how he thinks he's gonna help.

"Wait." I frown. "I didn't mea—"

"What is going on here?"

I snap my mouth shut.

I look out the window. It's Dale, near the RV. He quirks one hairy eyebrow at us. I glance at Shane. I watch as he slowly re-directs that murderous look onto Dale, and I worry that something bad is going to happen. His veins pop out from his forearms as he grips the window.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Dale asks, disgusted. "Don't you realize what Daryl would do to you if he saw this?"

Shane's jaw muscle ticks.

"It's okay." I quickly intervene, holding up my book. "He was just askin' about my book."

It's true, he was.

At least, he was at first.

Dale ignores me.

"I'm sure he won't appreciate you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, I can tell you that much for free."

Wow. He's pretty brave for sticking up to Shane like that.

"Welp. I wasn't askin', Dale." Shane laughs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head. He seems to think Dale's nothing more than a pesky little bug that he doesn't wanna deal with. He drops his hand. "You know what? I ain't doin' this. I got more important places to be."

He pushes himself off the truck.

"Nice shirt, kiddo." He mutters.

We watch him walk all the way back to the supermarket, one hand on his gun.

That didn't go so well.

As soon as Shane is back inside, Dale turns his suspicious eye on me. "What did he say to you?"

He wants to kill my Dad because he cares about me.

"Um. Nothin'."

"Are you sure?"

Aw, man. I don't like lying to Dale. He's so nice.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"Okay," He lilts. "As long as it's not anything me or your Dad should know about."

Oh, God.

"Nope."

I put on my most convincing smile, like I'm posing for a picture.

He eyeballs me for what feels like forever, trying to decide if he believes me or not. I don't think he does. I know I should tell him the truth, but I can't. If Dale tells my Dad that Shane wants to kill him, he's gonna ask how he knows. He's gonna have to tell him that I was talking to Shane, and that just means I'm gonna get belted again. I'm tryna forget all about that, not have it happen all over again.

Besides, Dad already knows Shane wants to kill him, and he's not gonna do anything to put our new friendship at risk, anyway.

It's fine for now.

After a while, Dale gets sick of studying me, and he nods.

"Well, how about you come read your book in the RV? It's getting pretty hot out here."

He's not wrong. It's hot today.

"Oh, did you got that fan working?" I ask hopefully.

Like I said, we've found just about everything except for food — Even a new table fan, thanks to T-Dog.

"Sure did." Dale smiles. "It's working like a charm. Come check it out."

I hop out of the truck and into the soupy, summer heat.

"Can you read my book to me?"

He ruffles my hair. "Sure thing."

"You gotta do a funny voice for Scarface Claw. He's the evil cat."

He laughs.

Dale's a little different than Shane.

He doesn't have to ask to be my friend.

An hour later, the RV door opens.

I lift my head, the cool breeze from the fan fluttering across my face. I watch Rick stumble inside. He's drenched in so much sweat that it looks like he just took a long, hot bath in his clothes. He steals a rag from the drying rack and smothers his face in it. The little fan whirrs politely.

"Any luck out there?" Dale shakes out his newspaper, peering at Rick over his spectacles.

Rick tweaks the faucet on, shoves his head underneath it, and licks up the five little drips that come trickling out, moaning.

Gross.

"Doesn't look like you struck gold in the water department." Dale deadpans. "Any food, at least?"

Rick slides onto the floor, panting heavily.

When he peeks one eye open to glance at me, I belatedly turn the fan towards him, and he sighs in bliss.

"I just need a minute."

I'm literally fanning Rick off. I'm not sure if that's funny or not.

The RV door opens again.

My Dad walks in with Morales, both of them glistening like cuts of oily pork. Dad dumps his crossbow against the wall and crouches in front of the table. He turns his face this way and that against the breeze of the fan, ruffling out his wet hair. He gives my knee two pat, pats, to thank me. I smile just the littlest bit. Morales slumps on the kitchen, huffing and puffing.

Dale laughs at this weirdly entertaining sight. "So? Talk to me, here. What'd we find?"

Rick nudges my Dad out the way to feel the fan better.

"Scoured everythin'," He gulps, wiping his dripping brow. "Top to bottom, left to right. Hell, we even broke open the damn registers, but nothin'. Not even a chocolate coin. Cans were busted all over the floor. Rats were shittin' in the rice. Glenn almost got bit. Shane disappeared for a while; said he got cornered in the break room. Full-scale disaster, is what I'm tryna say."

Shane disappeared, alright, I think, glancing at Dale to try gauge his thoughts.

He just shakes his head.

"I take it we're not considering rat-casserole, yet?" He asks.

"Nah. Trust me, we would'a." My Dad scoffs. "But the dead ones were already chewin' on 'em."

Ew.

I think I'd rather eat frog legs.

Morales gestures My turn now, so I pivot the fan onto him next.

"I don't see how we're gonna make it to Fort Benning the way things are," Rick says. "But we can't keep doin' this."

"What's the plan, then?"

"We do what Shane suggested." He shrugs, looking around for objections. There aren't any, so he makes a cutting gesture with his open palm. "We power our way through to Fort Benning — Straight shot. We wipe our assess with leaves. We eat whatever game Daryl can find. We boil river water. We sleep in the cars. I'on care. I'm not risking our lives for this anymore. It's not worth it."

"Fan's pretty worth it." Morales sighs wistfully.

Dad side-eyes him, as if to say, You serious?

"And when we run out of gas?" Dale chimes in again. "RV's only gonna make it three more days, tops. And I don't even want to look at the radiator hose. It's hanging on by a thread, and barely, at that."

"We siphon." Rick simply says. "We drive and we don't stop unless it's to siphon or sleep. That's how it's gotta be from now on."

Drive, siphon, sleep.

Drive, siphon, sleep.

It don't sound fun or nothin', but it sure beats scavenge, scavenge, die.

"As for the hose," Rick rubs his sweaty, stubbly chin, before pointing at my Dad. "You're sittin' next to a mechanic. Daryl can do check-ups every few miles, and if somethin' really goes side-ways, we can just pull one from another car. There's a solution to every problem. Problems, I can handle. Full-scale disasters — Not so much. That's why I'm choosin' this. I believe we can do it."

This group is strong. It's like a glue that won't let up.

"As long as we don't gotta make more jerky." I mumble.

One by one, they all chuckle.

It's been a long day.

"Alright... Let's get a move on, then." Rick shakes his head tiredly as he stands back up again, against all odds, his smile a beacon.

The sun clips through the window like a golden floodlight, slowly sinking; slowly burning.

"We're runnin' outta daylight."

The fan continues to whirr like a happy kitten.

Author's Note.

Shane... the master manipulator!

That was one jam-packed conversation I had to get down, ahaha.

And Rick... I just love clowning on him every now and then. He's so corny and fun. The last scene in this chapter might be my favorite in the entire story so far, it's just so random and simple.

Please let me know what you thought about this chapter!!!

Sending love! :)

[lostgirlfandom]

Just a Security Guard Part II

Pairing: Eventual Frank Castle x GN!Reader x Matt Murdock

Warnings: Talk of Readers past, being experimented on

Words: 1.2k

It took The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen two weeks to find you. Which you were actually expecting one of them sooner than that since your public records with the security company wasn’t that hard to get in to.  

So, you were not all that surprised when after you got off of working a day shift at 8 at night, that Daredevil was sitting in your living room.  

-

You sighed as you opened the door to your apartment and throwing your keys on the side table. Putting your jacket and vest up on the coat hanger, you then bent down to until your steel toe boots and kicking them off under the bench along the wall.  

Walking further into the loft apartment, you turned on the living room light and blinked at the sight of Daredevil standing next to balcony doors. His head was tilted down and had one of his ears turned towards you, his helmet on and his hands to his sides.  

“You took a lot longer than expected.” You stated as if you were talking about the weather. You watched the Devil’s head twitch to the side as you crossed your arms. Leaning one of your hips against your couch, facing him.  

“You were expecting me?” He asked shocked. You couldn’t tell but his brow was frowned as if he thought you were a little weird.  

“I figured you and that other guy would show up sooner or later. This address isn’t exactly super-secret.” You shrugged and watched him intently. He wasn’t looking at you head on like most people... He also had his eyes covered.... Blind maybe.

He was silent for a moment. “While that is true... Y/N Y/L/N apparently didn’t exist till sometime after the New York Invasion. It’s like you just-”

“Showed up out of nowhere? Yeah, that’s what happens when you’ve been experimented on by a Nazi organization since before you were born.” Your voice hardened. You sighed and turned to your kitchen to grab a beer. “If we are going to talk about my shitty life, might as well have a drink. You want one?” You asked from your spot at the fridge.  

He shook his head as he took a hesitant step forward into the living room more. His hand subtly went out to feel for a chair or couch, with you watching his movements with sharp eyes that took in his body language. He found a chair and sat in it with his elbows on his knees. “You worked for SHEILD.” he stated.  

You sighed as you popped open the top of the bottle. Taking a sip, you walked over to plop down onto the couch with your legs open in a comfy position and your upper body leaned back against the back of the couch. “Somewhat... I was on file as an intern but I technically worked as an Avenger.” You scoffed.  

He sat up straight in shock and his jaw had fallen open. “You’re [Alias]” He whispered.  

You snorted. This guy was smart to connect the dots. “Yeah, until I retired a couple of months ago cause of the Accords. I had to leave... My supposed friends were at each other's throats and I had to get out of that environment. Of course, the government is giving me an allowance for being under Hydra’s thumb and then saving the world a few times.” You stated sarcastically. “I was tired of being under someone's control. And I was fine till you and Asshole show up at my job.” You looked at him pointedly, although knowing he can’t see you but he got your point.

He gave a scoffing laugh. “We didn’t mean to bust in at the time. It just happened. Frank and I don’t exactly get along”

“Frank?” You asked with a smirk. You took a slow sip as he clenched his jaw. You smirked. “It’s alright, I already know the Punisher is Frank Castle. I got a lot of friends that know shit.”  

There was a moment of silence as he processed what you said. Before changing the subject again. “You just have super strength?” He asked with a soft head tilt.  

You sighed and looked down at the beer bottle in your hand. “No... I have something similar to sixth sense, not a lot surprises me anymore since I can usually tell something is going to happen. Although, I was paying attention to you two instead of my surroundings. I was also trained by Hydra at hand-to-hand combat and became a weapons expert. I was an experiment trying to recreate the Super Solider Serum...It was pretty successful... except my brain is hard to control. They tried to brainwash me like Winter but it wouldn’t take.” You gave a hefty sigh as you took another sip of your beer. “Apparently I was too smart,” You sneered through the sarcastic comment.  

Devil licked his lips before asking, “How... How did you escape?” He asked softly. His tone was soft and he felt a pinching in his chest at the sound of your story. He felt the pain inside you from all the years of being controlled and not being allowed to do anything you wanted and his fingers twitched as if to reach for you.  

You licked at your top lip before sucking in your cheeks at the memories. “Captain America found me.” You stated simply, with a small truth in the statement. Of course, you weren’t saying everything that happened to you... just a CliffsNotes version.  

He clenched his jaw but nodded at your answer. He then spoke slowly his next question, “Are you safe here?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well, no one really knows who I am except for the government. Otherwise, my identity is safe here.” You smiled. “I appreciate the concern though.” You said through soft chuckle.  

The tension in his shoulders was relieved some as he internally sighed in relief.

“Why did you come here anyway?” You asked with a tilted head.  

He didn’t answer for a moment. “I was curious... you took down those men easily... well, took them down easier than Frank and I. They had threatened to shoot you if we didn’t cooperate.” Devil leaned back against the chair he was in with his hands on his thighs. “It’s why we let them chain us down like that. We both knew you were innocent.” He tilted his head and gave a soft grin. “Which I appreciate. I actually want to repay you somehow.”  

You smiled crookedly and shook your head. “You don’t have to. I don’t help people to get repaid. Plus, it looked like you weren’t exactly in a good spot to get out of that situation.” You gave him a small tease.  

He let out a soft scoff like laugh. “I wasn’t, was I...”  

There was a small silence. Which you took the opportunity to examine Daredevil. He was extremely attractive, making you smirk to yourself. Licking your lips, you took in his top part of his suit which was like a second skin against him, showing off the shapes of his stomach and chest. His thighs were filling out his pants wonderfully.  

You were knocked out of your thoughts as he stood up, giving you an even better picture to file for later. “I have to go... there is... something going on a few streets away.”

You grinned and sipped your beer. “Go ahead... I’ll see you later then.”  

He licked his lips and smiled. “Talk to you later, Y/N”  

Devil walked over to your balcony and jumped down from your second story apartment.  

You shook your head to yourself. ‘Him and Castle are gonna give me a heart attack...’

[gracien-system]

So uh

we might be starting a new project.

Had some random inspiration.

Hope y'all enjoy this prologue/first chapter.

8:13 am, October 10th, 2026. I wake up with the first trappings of a migraine, groggily looking across my room. At first I thought it might just be a regular morning, then I saw a black cat run across the hallway outside of my door.

I jumped to my feet, getting dressed as fast as I could, and grabbing a combat knife from a nearby shelf.

See, my life has been far from an ordinary one. I’ve seen many things, done many things. I’ve been involved in the supernatural, been part of rituals, been the target of rituals. But one of the most consistent things I’ve experienced throughout my life is this:

Any time I’m about to be in life-threatening danger, I see an ethereal cat run across my vision. It’s always the same cat. Black as shadow and faster than god, always early enough to let me know I need to move, never early enough for me to get answers before the fact.

I dashed through my apartment, not having any clue what the danger would be, but knowing that there would be something coming and soon. The walls around me were gray and overall normal, the floors hardwood and vinyl, the space overwhelmingly ordinary. I always made a point to never get too at home in places like these – knowing how often I need to run, the only place I can truly get used to is my car, but even that’s shaky, knowing my luck.

I guess that I have at least a few minutes before I’m fighting for my life, so I throw on the rest of my gear before bolting out the door. All in all, I’m wearing a plain white t-shirt with a kevlar vest underneath and thin jacket overtop, alongside tan cargo pants that hold a garter sheath and holster, both filled with their respective weapons – a custom made tempered steel combat knife, and a well-maintained .308 caliber 5-shot revolver – and a pair of steel toe leather boots.

An outfit designed to both fit in with a crowd and give me enough protection to survive a firefight, if a bit stereotypical.

After finishing the relatively short process of suiting up, I grabbed my wallet and keyring before leaving the apartment, speed walking my way to the parking lot. 5 minutes later, as I’m entering my car, I hear the distinctive sound of an armored vehicle speeding its way towards me. No sirens, not police. I turned the key, the car started. A relatively old thing, but still working perfectly fine in spite of age and the number of firefights I’ve been in.

The armored vehicle revealed itself to be a van, windows tinted so thoroughly they were almost black, the van itself was clumsy to turn, obviously far heavier than standard – armor plating, probably has at least 6 people in it, maybe more.

I pulled out of the parking space as 4 men exited the van from the back, and made their way towards my apartment building. They looked like special forces, but had a few things that made me realize they were something else. An emblem from an organization I had seen a few times before, and had the displeasure of dealing with again, it seems.

I let out a sigh, thanking whatever god gave me the cat, and cursing whatever god made me deal with these fuckers again, as I pulled out of the parking lot and began driving aimlessly towards the edge of town.

[dimpledcherry]

Mechanic!Eddie Headcanons

it’s been a few months - and its Christmas season - so this calls for a part 4

a link to previous parts!

the cold hits hard in Indiana so naturally the shop get cold

queue Eddie never-felt-the-warmth-in-his-life Munson coming in a vest and t-shirt under his overalls 

yes overalls are the winter wear

he will always be rubbing his hands together blowing on them when he’s in the back office waiting for a car to come in

winter time means fixing heaters and replacing loads of batteries

he defo parks his van inside the garage because he’s against having to scrap the ice off it more than once a day

ohmygod when he’s worked there for a while - long enough that Wayne is confident Eddie is going to sick to it for a while HE BUYS HIM STEEL TOE CAPS FOR CHRISTMAS

The two of them are lounging on the sofa after their make shift small Christmas dinner, the sink is clear of dirty dishes, the trailer smelling faintly of roast potatoes and mint sauce, the tv is blaring old Christmas movies and the lights from the tree gives a cosy feel to the whole thing. 

Wayne’s in his arm chair, coffee rested in his hand and on the arm, Eddie is sprawled across the 2 seater, legs dangling of the edge slightly. The two sit in a comfortable silence, only filling it with “want another drink?” or snide remark about what they’d do the character position, followed by the other man laughing and completely disagreeing. It was love - pure familiar love that the two of them had grown to accept as their chunk of normality. 

They’d shared their gifts this morning: Eddie giving Wayne a new mug and a few new plaid shirts he’d found in a thrift shop in the high street, Wayne gifting Eddie some new patches and a new ring. 

As the film drew on, Wayne silently got up, leaving his coffee by his chair and going out to his car. The late evening gifts were a Wayne trade secret. From Eddie’s gorgeous guitar to the keys to the van he rolls around in - all late evening ‘before you go to bed, I love you’ remarks. 

“Where you going?” Eddie shouted as his Uncle opened the door, leaving it open, “You’re about to miss the most unexpected twist!”

His sarcasm made Wayne chuckle, “Gimme 2 seconds, boy.”

“You’re letting the heat out!”

Wayne walked back in with a box. It was retained, wrapped in red plaid paper. Eddie’s eyebrows arched at his Uncle. Wordlessly, the elder shut the door, sitting back down in his chair, Eddie following him with his eyes and sitting up. “Did your receptionist finally reveal her undying love for you?” Wayne cocked a brow, lips straight. “Don’t look at me like that - what’s more romantic than a show of love at a time of year like this?” There was teasing in Eddie’s tone.

“Boy, shut up. This is for you.” 

“Your receptionist ain’t really my type-”

 “You're an idiot- it’s from me.”

“But we’ve already given each other our gifts..” He wiggled his hand, the new ring glistened.

“Yes, but I forgot one.” There it was. The small, almost missable, Wayne smirk. The same one Eddie learnt to develop in time of confident happiness.

The present was thrusted into his hands, Ed sat it on his lap, opening it, eyeing his parental figure every now and then. The plain box created more confusion. With squinted brows, pursed lips and a tilted head, he opened the box. Inside sat 2 well conditioned Doc. Martin steel toe cap boots. 

“Holy shit Wayne- I can’t accept these!”

He couldn't help the blistering smile, “You can and you will. If you’re going to be running around that garage for years, you ain’t doing it in them sneakers of yours.” The infamous some how always clean white reeboks. When Eddie looked at Wayne, there was nothing but love, appreciation and something heavier in his eyes, “I know how much you enjoy it there, boy, how much at home you feel. And I also know how you don't like all the protective gear, so I thought these were the best way to keep a little part of you safe.”

Eddie just smiled. Smiled the same way he did when he was 6 and Wayne let him mess around on his old acoustic, the same smile when Wayne helped him pin up the first poster, when Wayne showed him how to stitch. It was the little things, the feelings behind the actions. 

Wayne started Eddie on the trend of a flask of hot coffee 

So every morning Eddie was pull into the garage, jump out the van - him and his flask - and sit behind the desk letting the heat warm him up

The boys would tease him when it snowed

“Got snow in your hair, Gorgeous!” 

“Too cold for ya yet, Girlie?”

Can just imagine him complaining every 5 minutes: “Its so cold!” “Can we please buy more heaters?” “How are you lot not cold?”

Queue him being told: “You’re so dramatic” “How are you Wayne’s boy? That man used to run around his truck in a t-shirt in this weather!” “Thought that hair of yours would keep you warm.”

He is always shocked whenever he goes into his drawers / tool box and the tool he’s getting is cold

He’s known for alway playing his music too loudly but this time of year, he does it do he can dance to it to keep himself warm

Oh he’s gotta go do the rubbish? take in a delivery? Yeaahhh he’s palming that job onto the new apprentice 

[fallen-angel-92]

History Untold

Books. Maps. The pasts hidden away within the confines of temples, palaces and ancient relics. Even the most hidden of relics have a way of appearing. Calysta Matteo knew this all too well. Now she must come to terms with everything in her life and decide if she is ready to commit to her hearts wants.

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” - Laozi

“Dammit. Where in the world did I put that map?” Calysta Matteo, muttered angrily as she scoured the table that was piled high with papers and books.

“It’s right here, mama,” A soft female voice spoke to her right, dark brown eyes met golden optics, smiling,” Thank you my little Hurricane.”

Taking the paper from Hurricanes hand, she looked at the small Cybertronian with warmth in her eyes as she pushes up her glasses,” I think it’s time for us to take a break don’t you think?”

Claysta watched as Hurricane’s wings flittered up and down in excitement as she spoke with a hurried tone,” Flying?”

She nodded her head, replying,” Yep. We’ll go flying. I’ll drive around under you on the ATV so when you are tired I can drive us home.”

Hurricane nodded her head happily as she asked,” May I have energon before we go?”

Calysta nodded as she got from her place at the table, and headed into the kitchen where she made her way toward a small black refridgerator, opening it up and pulling out a small little blue bottle before turning to Hurricane, handing her the bottle watching as she began to drink it happily. Calysta chuckled as took the now empty bottle from Hurricane, placing it into the sink as she turned back to the youngling watching as she begna to jog toward the front door. Her metal peds clicking against the wooden flooring, as Calysta followed suit with a tired smile.

As she walked past the table, she glanced over at it once more with a frown decorating her face as she quietly muttered,” Grandma… What were you looking into?”

“Mama! Come on!” Hurricane called out from the front door.

She quickly turned to the youngling as replied,” Alright I am coming!” Returning her attention back to the youngling she made her way to the front door.

Calysta could see that Hurricane was bouncing happily as she watched her quickly put on her black steel toe boots. She pulled down her blue jeans over her boots as she stood up with a grin,” Alright. Let’s head out.”

With a giggle Hurricane quickly exited though the front door, with Calysta following behind her, and locking up the door with keys she swiped from the side table that was next to the door. Out in the front of their small little one story home was a car that was a truck covered with a tarp and a black and red four wheeler ATV was sitting next to it. Calysta ran over to the ATV, climbing onto it as she switched her key from the house one to the key for the ATV. Once she started it up, she looked over at Hurricane with a smile,” Ready?”

Hurricane nodded as she ran toward the road, jumping into the air as she transformed into a small version of a FM-14 Tomcat and began to fly down the road Calysta quickly turned her ATV around and followed after her daughter, down the road she drove until she veered off into a off road path. Calysta would glance up at Hurricane who never really flew out of her range, when they came upon a small clearing, Calysta stopped her ATV and just sat upon it, closing her eyes and allowing the wind to caress her face. 

She then heard the sound of metal scrapping against metal followed by the sound of Hurricane landing next to her. Calysta opened her eyes, turning slightly to see Hurricane looking at her with a confused expression. She laughed a small bit as she spoke softly,” I am just enjoying the crisp, clean air. It’s something I never got to enjoy back in the city.”

“Oh? What was it like in the city?” Hurricane asked softly, Calysta turned to look at her with a frown,” It’s crowded. People don’t respect boundaries or others. It can be a nice place one moment, but a cruel one the next. Especially when the sun rests and the moon rises.”

“Did you hate the city?”

Calysta let out a hum as she responded,” To an extent, but most of my time was defaulted to a library or conservation work at the museum. Never really more of anything else.”

Just as Hurricane went to ask more, a ringing echoed through the forest causing them both to pause before they began to giggle. Calysto reached into the compartment on the side of the ATV and pulled out her satellite phone. A smile spread across her lips as she flipped the thick black antenna upward, as she glanced at Hurricane and said,” It’s auntie Aren.” before she pressed the green button, “Hey Aren! ”

“What’s up, Little Mama? How are you and Hurricane doing?” Her friend asked with a hint of amuesment.

“Hurricane and I have been doing good. So what’s up?” Calysta asked with amusement as she glanced over at Hurricane who was giggling near her.

“Are you and Hurricane home by chance? Cause I’m getting kind of cold and I have something to talk to you about,” Aren asked with a cheeky tone.

Calysta blinked for a moment as confusion before quickly spitting,” You hoe! Are you here!?”

She could a deep rumble as if she was sitting in a large vehicle, however, it was over ridden by Aren laughing as she replied back,” Yes you bibliophile! Now you and Hurricane hurry up! I aint got all day!”

“We will be there in ten minutes, tops!” Calysta replied excitingly as she turned back on the ATV, out of the corner of her eye she could see Hurricane bounce happily before she quickly ran a bit aways form her and jumped into the air and transformed.

Calysta quickly hung up, put away her phone and turned her ATV around, following Hurricane back to their home. As they got closer, Calysta slowed a bit as she noticed a large blue with red flames Peterbilt 379 semi-truck. Calysta quickly looked up, just as she was about to call out for Hurricane to stop where she was at, she watched with a hint of suspicion as Hurrican flew right next to the truck and transformed. Calysta quickly punched her ATV to get to her daughter’s side when Aren exited the truck and pulled Hurricane into a hug.

Calysta stopped next to them, her eyes glanced at the truck before she turned her attention toward Aren and Hurricane and smiled. Just as the dark skinned woman turned to face her, Hurricane quickly chirped out innocently,” Mama! He is like me!”

Calysta blinked watching as Hurricane pointed to the truck that was next to Aren. As it sank it into her mind what exactly Hurricane said, Calysta’s eyes widened in fear, quickly she jumped off her ATV and ran over to Hurricane, pulling her behind her as she faced her friend. Aren quickly put up her hands as she said,

“Whoa! Hang on now! I promise Boss bot here is not an enemy. You know I wouldn’t put you or Hurricane in danger, Calysta.”

“Boss Bot?” Calysta parroted weakly as she held Hurrican closer to her body.

Suddenly, the sound of familiar sound of metal against metal echoed around them as the semi began to change and a large mech stood in front of them and spoke in a soft, yet commanding tone,

“My name is Optimus Prime. I am the leader of the Autobots. It’s nice to meet you both.”

Calysta could only stare in awe at him, and deep inside she knew that her and Hurricane’s world had just been turned upside down.

[maddieautobot273]

Silk & Cologne (49)

A Miguel O'hara x OC series - link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 49: Motherly - previous chapter (X)

Words: 4.5K+ words

Warnings: PG for implied threats of violence

Summary: Lisa's mother is in town for Mother's Day and to see her daughter perform for Marvel Day.

///////

I didn’t remember JFK International airport being so lively when I first came here over a month ago. It was one of, if not, the busiest airports in the world. Travelers from all over the world come here. After all, it was the city where dreams were made of, where it’s been waiting for you .

Thanks Alicia Keys and Taylor Swift. 

My palms were beginning to sweat as another group of passengers walked through the arrival gate. I stood up on my toes, trying to search for any sign of my mom. A sigh escaped me as I planted my feet flat on the floor as the crowd cleared. “She’s not there either,”

“Breathe, mi Mona Lisa, she’ll be here,” Miguel’s voice was warm as he soothed me, offering me a small smile. He wore his go to black leather jacket with a red t-shirt, jeans and black slip on shoes. “I’m sure she’s just grabbing her bags,”

Another sigh escaped me as I leaned my head against his arm to anchor myself. “You don’t know her like I do. She’ll pack for a weekend getaway as if she’ll be gone for a month,”

“I know you’re nervous,” Miguel gently reached around me with one hand, his arm hooking around my lower back as his hand rested on my waist. “But everything will be fine. Just focus on spending time with her,”

I managed to turn my head to meet his gaze, his eyes pouring a reassuring look into my direction over his red sunglasses. Miguel seemed so calm and collected on the outside, I was beginning to get jealous of his nerves of steel. But one quick glance behind his back and seeing the death grip he had holding the flowers he bought for my mom in his other hand made me quickly retract that jealousy. 

He was just as, if not more , nervous than I was. Here he was putting on a strong front and comforting me when part of him was shaking like a leaf. This poor man was really having it rough right now, and that would explain why he was up earlier than I was after agreeing to spend the night with me at my apartment so we could pick up my mother together. 

“Those are lovely flowers by the way,” I smiled, looking back at his face. “She’ll love them, and you,”

Miguel scoffed, a soft chuckle escaping him as he looked down towards me. “Kind words, Lisa,”

I motioned with my finger for him to lean his head down and with a soft smile, he obliged, planting a soft kiss to my lips. Even now that we’ve been officially dating for quite a few weeks now, there was this strong connection that I felt between us. I’d go as far to call it a web even. 

I wasn’t sure if it was part of my Spider-Sense, but with everything that had been thrown at us, everything we went through, I felt as if I had known Miguel longer than we actually had met. I’d get butterflies around him easily, but his presence brought me peace, and he made me feel safe. With Miguel behind me, I felt like I could take on the world.

Maybe Lyla was right. I had it bad . 

“Well, well, you two appear to look cozy,” A familiar voice purred in delight.

I immediately pulled away from the kiss, eyes wide as I glanced over to see my mother standing nearby, clapping her hands excitedly. She had long blonde hair down to her shoulders wearing a cozy white sweater and a green sleeveless puffer vest over top. With blue jeans and ugg boots, she looked like she was dressed for a light winter. 

‘ I get cold easily ’. It runs in the family, despite where I grew up. 

“Mom!” I flew open my arms as I approached her, wrapping my arms around her. “I missed you!”

“Oh, I missed you too, dear!” She giggled happily, her body swaying as she hugged me back. 

Giving her one final squeeze, I pulled back, draping an arm around her shoulder as I stood at her side. “Mom, I’d like to formally introduce Miguel O’Hara. . . my boyfriend,” I smiled softly as our eyes briefly met. 

The wink he quickly flashed me from behind his shades made my heart skip a beat. I was so shocking happy I could call him that for real this time, especially telling it to other people. First my friends and now my mother of all people. It felt good, and I could sense that Miguel felt the same just hearing it. 

“Ma’am,” Miguel greeted, offering my mother a polite bow. 

I could practically feel my mother’s gaze narrow onto Miguel, sizing him up. I didn’t exactly blame her, considering the last relationship I was in didn’t exactly go too well, and that was putting it mildly. I was terrified she was going to stalk around and analyze his form like she was the judge at a prized dog show, but thankfully she stayed put beside me. 

I felt awful for Miguel at that moment. He stood frozen like a deer in headlights. Finally my mom spoke up and her expression changed dramatically. 

“Oh, such a nice man, and handsome too!” My mother seemed to practically fawn over him, and I could see a drop of sweat run down the side of his face as he blushed, chuckling nervously. 

“Gracias señora, es muy amable. ” Miguel smiled at her, his head tilting slightly to the side. - Thank you, ma’am, you’re too kind.  

My mother gasped, hands coming up to her mouth. “He’s bilingual? Oh, I love your accent!” 

“Moooom,” I cautiously glanced over, a silent warning. 

“Oh, right, I promised to not overdo it, you’re right,” My mother quickly composed herself, brushing herself down before whispering over to me. “He’s so handsome !”

When it comes to my mother and whispering, she always thinks no one can hear her when she does it. So when I noticed the toothy grin on Miguel’s face as he tried to stop himself from snickering, I immediately knew he heard her. ‘ I’m sorry, ’ I apologized through the bond. 

‘ Are you joking? I’m having a blast. Besides, I see where you got your adorableness from. Among. . . other things,’ Miguel teased with another wink as I felt a shiver down my spine. 

I could feel a flush darken on my cheeks and immediately coughed to compose myself. I’d get my payback later when not in front of my present company. Speaking of presents. . . 

“Mom, Miguel was kind enough to get you a little welcome gift,” I smiled sweetly as I motioned towards Miguel, squeezing her shoulders. 

“Really?” Her eyes lit up in surprise. 

Miguel’s eyes widened briefly. In his nervous state, he had completely forgotten about the flowers he got. Coughing in his other hand to clear his throat and compose himself, he flashed a thankful look towards me before he revealed the flowers, a beautiful bouquet of pink, red and white carnations. “Welcome to New York, Mrs. Kendrick,”

My mother’s eyes lit up at the gesture, “Oh please, call me Janet,” She accepted the flowers, smelling them briefly. “These are lovely, thank you, Miguel,”

“We’ll give you a lift to the hotel so you can drop off your things and then we’ll scope out the Marvel Day festivities,” I smiled as I took the handle of her suitcase with one hand and then linked my other arm with hers. “Dinner is our treat,”

“I can’t wait! I don’t think I’ve been to an event here since the Macey’s Day parade in ‘85,'' Janet beamed.

Miguel led the way as the three of us exited the airport. He had traded in his Ferrari for a four seater Mercedes Benz. I handed Miguel her suitcase before hopping into the backseat with my mom. Miguel flashed me a knowing smile as I winked at him from the back seat before he closed the trunk of the car.

Of course I was going to sit with my mother who I hadn’t seen in months. Miguel climbed into the driver’s seat before turning to look back towards us, his red sunglasses dropping briefly from the bridge of his nose. “Where to, ladies?”

“Four Seasons, Miguel, thank you,” Janet smiled as Miguel nodded towards her and started the car. 

My mother glanced over to me, squeezing my hand tightly. In that moment I realized how much I really missed her and gave her another quick hug as Miguel pulled out of the parking lot. After the drama over the course of the last few days, I really needed today.

///////

The streets were lively for the Marvel Day celebrations with events and booths all over the city. Marvel themed food stalls, games, fan artist alleys, and so much more. Not to mention all the great cosplay.

‘If I see one more Spider-Man cosplayer and try to call them Peter or notice they’re missing a gizmo, I’m going to lose it,’ Miguel groaned through our mental bond, clearly getting frustrated. 

I could imagine his biggest thing about visiting me in my dimension is that he can take a bit of a break from being an actual superhero and just be a person. He works and interacts with a multiverse sized team of Spider-Men and Women in his home dimension, and now it appeared for the one weekend of the year, he was seeing more of them here. I instinctively reached out, squeezing his shoulder. 

“We’re almost there, you’re doing great,” I reassured him softly. 

“Is everything alright, dear?” Janet asked. 

I quickly realized I had responded to Miguel out loud and back through our mental spider bond. My cheeks flushed immediately as I glanced between them, fumbling my words. “Oh, uh–!”

“I get anxious sometimes when driving,” Miguel quickly chimed in as he offered my mother a glance. “Only during rush hour. It’s atrocious here,”

“Ah, yes, I understand,” She nodded. “Poor Lisa has something similar. That’s why she never got her driver's license. The poor girl nearly fainted during her driver's test!”

“Mom!” My flush burned even darker. 

“There’s nothing wrong with not learning how to drive. Besides, our city is a metropolis, you didn’t have to,” Janet smiled sweetly towards me. 

“Not in this economy anyways,” I muttered softly.  

‘You’ll just have to be stuck as being my passenger princess. A shame really,’ Miguel teased again through the bond and the embarrassment I had previously felt was replaced with a cozy warmth. 

That’s two now he’s gonna get payback for.

It was hard to navigate due to some of the streets being closed for the weekend, but we finally made it to the hotel my mother was staying at. I helped my mother out of the car as Miguel carried her luggage with him and the three of us walked inside.

Since I was picking my mother up from the airport, I had unfortunately missed the opening ceremony for Marvel Day. But Hannah came in clutch and shared some pictures in the group chat. It looked like the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ team was part of the performance before they’d start performing their charity showings of the Rogers musical later tonight. 

“That looks so much fun! I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to see it with you guys :(“ - Lisa 

Our performance wasn’t even until tomorrow night and I was already getting butterflies.Just seeing all the decorations and the various events made me realize that this was actually happening. I was finally going to perform in front of an actual audience again. 

“No worries, Lisa! Say hi to your mom for us! Will we see you scooping out any of the events at all before tomorrow?” - Hannah 

“Yeah, Miguel and I wanted to show her around the city a bit before dinner. I’m sure we’ll run into each other at some point,” - Lisa 

“Bussin!” - Toya 

“Nobody says that anymore bro -_-” - Touga 

“:P” - Toya 

My phone suddenly vibrated, receiving a notification. I didn’t see a new message pop up in the group chat. After scrolling back, I realized it was a private text message from Hannah. 

“Have you heard at all from Kasey since the other day?” - Hannah 

My heart sank a little as I frowned at the message. 

“No, I haven’t,” - Lisa

While a part of me was still sour about the comment she had made during our initial argument, I knew she had other stuff going on in her personal life. Deep down I know she didn’t mean what she had said, and was probably just stressed and going through a rough time. But it still hurts.

Still, I should try and give her the benefit of the doubt. 

“Is everything alright with her family?” - Lisa 

“Yeah, she came back late yesterday. I chatted with her for a bit. She hasn’t called or texted you?” - Hannah 

“Miguel, would you be a dear and wait down here while Lisa helps me put away my things? We won’t be long,” Janet smiled sweetly after checking in at the front desk.

My mother’s voice snapped me out of her trance as I had realized how quickly she had checked in. Miguel was hovering near me as I had taken a seat in the lobby before I quickly stood up, putting my phone away.

“Oh, sure, of course,” Miguel nodded politely. He then looked over towards me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, offering him a smile. 

‘Are you sure?’ he asked me. 

I nodded, squeezing his hand. “You’ll be fine on your own for a few minutes?” I asked him with a concerned look. 

“Yes, mami ,” Miguel rolled his eyes, his voice dripping of sarcasm. - mother

“Smartass,” Lisa grinned as she nudged his side. 

“Who’s smartass am I again?” He matched my own grin, his fangs threatening to poke out. 

“Mine, of course,” I pecked his cheek before turning away. “We’ll be back,” 

“I’ll confirm our dinner reservation in the meantime,” Miguel nodded, his expression relaxing after the affection token. 

I followed my mom to the elevator as we went up to her floor. The elevator chimed as the doors pulled open and we walked down the long hallway to her hotel room door. “Let me get that for you,” 

“Thank you, dear,” Janet smiled as I unlocked the door for her, allowing her inside first. 

I followed close behind, pulling her suitcases along. The room was a two bedroom suite with plenty of space, a washroom and a balcony that overlooked the streets of the city. Even from up here we could hear the distant sounds of celebration from the festivities happening down the street. 

I brought up one of her suitcases onto one of the beds, pulling back the zipper. “Okay, where do you want all of these—“ 

“Are you alright?!” Janet suddenly grabbed my shoulders, turning me around to get a good look at me. 

“Mom, what’s wrong?” I asked her, shaken up from her sudden outburst. 

“He hasn’t done anything to hurt you or pressured you at all into anything?” She asked me back, her hands coming up to cup my cheeks. “He’s so tall, and those arms! He looks like he could snap you like a twig when you’re not looking!” 

“Mom!?” I gawked at her, carefully grabbing her wrists to pull her hands away from me. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Well can you blame me? I hardly know anything about this man and seeing you two all, well, cozy had me worried!” She stated.

My face fell at her accusation. Ah, so that’s what this is about. 

“Mom, I promise, everything is okay,” I soothed her as my fingers snaked up to intertwine with hers. “Miguel has been nothing but a gentleman to me,” 

“You’re absolutely sure?” She asked me. 

“Yes!” I sighed, wrapping her into a tight hug. “He has more than proved himself to me. Miguel makes me really happy, mom,” 

I could feel her arms lace around me, squeezing me tightly. “. . . He didn’t take you to a nightclub on your first date?” 

Ugh, Ji-Ho and his so-called standards? Barf!  

I pulled away, letting her see the smile on my face as my eyes poured into hers, “Try a romantic Italian restaurant. One of the best in the city,” 

Her eyes lit up instantly. “Really?” 

I nodded softly. My lips then curled into an almost sinister grin. “Speaking of Ji-Ho. . .”

Janet’s eyes suddenly lit up, willed with concern and worry. “What about him? Did he tank his career? Is he dead?!”

“Nope,” I shook my head. “Better than that,”

“What, what, tell me!” She shook my arms vigorously. I thought she’d tear my arms off.

“Well, as fate would have it, Ji-Ho was dining with some friends at said same Italian restaurant Miguel took me to for our first date. He was being the same as he always was and after we had a brief yet exhausting conversation, Miguel took it upon himself to have a word with the hostess and got him kicked out of the restaurant,” I recapped the story with a proud grin.

Janet gasped loudly, her hands instantly covering her mouth. “In front of everyone?!”

“Well, discreetly, of course. Turns out he wasn’t acting like a model customer anyways, so the hostess took the opportunity to politely inform him and his buddies to vacate,” The grin never left my face as I leaned against the bed, “Miguel came back to the table, poured me a glass of wine as he reassured me I was safe, and we continued our romantic evening,”

A romantic evening that ended with a kiss in the rain straight out of a movie. I’ll keep that part to myself for now. It was strange, but I wanted to keep that part to myself for now. 

“He did?” Her eyes sparkled in delight. 

“He picked me up at my apartment, surprised me and my friends with roses and brought me back home after,” I smiled knowingly. 

“Oh, the Mercedes?” She asked me with a curious glint. 

My smirk grew wider. “That night it was a Ferrari,” 

She leaned closer. “How much money did you say he makes?” 

“Mom!” I gawked at her again, recoiling back as I shot her a not super serious look. 

“What?” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just a question.”

“That doesn’t matter!” I rolled my eyes as I glanced back at the suitcase. “Besides, I’ve tried asking him and he won’t budge,” 

“He sounds very humble,” Janet smiled gently, placing her hands on her hips.

“He’s humble, kind, handsome, charming, and super smart,” I sighed, my heart fluttering as I thought of all the things I admired about him. “He’s a little rough on the outside, a bit of a temper, but deep down he’s very compassionate when you get to know him,”

”I just. . . I don’t want your heart to get broken, sweetheart. Not again,” Janet squeezed my hand tightly. 

“I know, mom, and I’m grateful for that,” I smiled softly as I leaned my head against her. “If you’re not sure to fully trust him yet, then all I ask is that you trust me to trust him . Please?”

Janet’s eyes poured into mine, assessing my expression and trying to get a read on me that said I was faking it. But I never faltered. I knew the man I was defending. 

I shielded him from a bat demon. I could defend his honor before my mother. 

“Well, if it means that much to you, honey, I’ll try,” she nodded.

“Thank you, mom,” I sighed in relief before giving her one more tight hug. 

//////////

After our brief but deep conversation, my mom and I reunited with Miguel in the lobby before we left the hotel. The extra suitcase my mom had brought as extra things from home was for me to keep and so Miguel packed it back in his trunk to drop it off at my place at the end of the day. Until then, we had the rest of the day to explore.

Marvel Day was now in full swing. Various cosplayers filled the streets as we explored different vendors and events. It took me half an hour to pull my mother away from the 24/7 Christmas store on this block that was having a sale on all their Marvel themed accessories.

When I finally found a new vendor that piqued her interest, Miguel offered to get us all coffee, seeing the line at the local coffee shop had died down. We each passed him along our orders before he went off.

“I’ll be back,” He smiled gently towards me, kissing my hand.

“I’ll be here!” I smiled with a goofy expression. 

I watched as Miguel went off to get in line before I started turning around to join my mother again when I heard another voice call out to me. “Lisa!”

I glance over to see my friends. Hannah was waving excitedly at me while Toya and Touga hovered near her. Trailing close behind them with her hands in her pockets and a tired expression was Kacey. My face fell a little when I saw the expression on her face, but I tried not to dwell on it considering what he was most likely going through back home. 

“Hey! You found me!” I greeted them happily as I hugged Hannah.

“Told ya we would!” Hannah giggled.

“Have fun with your mom?” Touga asked with a grin. 

“I had to physically drag her out of the Christmas store just a few minutes ago,” I chuckled, shaking my head.

“Oh, that reminds me, I wanted to check that out!” Hannah smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’m gonna get a head start on decorations!”

“We won’t keep you since you’re obviously spending time with your mom, but we just wanted to say hi,” Toya offered me a kind smile. “See ya tomorrow for the show?”

“I can’t wait! We’ll kill it out there,” I offered him a fist bump and he happily reciprocated. 

“See you then,” Hannah waved goodbye at me as she kept walking, the twins following behind her.

Kacey didn’t move. She just stood there, staring at me. There was this strange uneasy look in her eyes that seemed out of character to her. 

Was she still upset about our fight?

“Hey. . .” I waved at her.

She didn’t answer me, just tilting her head to the side as she hummed. 

“So. . . I’m sorry if I pushed any buttons the other day. I didn’t realized how stressed you were, and you had a point. I should have been a little more focused. But I know we’ll do great tomorrow, so. . . see you on stage?” I offered her my hand, initiating a hand shake. 

Her eyes glanced down to my hand, accessing it as if I was offering her a once in a lifetime choice. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid and we’re square,” Kasey grumbled as she walked passed me, shoving my shoulder in the process.

I stumbled slightly, taken back as I watched her walk away. I was too stunned to speak I didn’t notice another set of footsteps walking towards me. They cleared their throat, requesting my attention as I turned.

I immediately regretted it.

“Did I hear that correctly about you being in a show?” Ji-Ho sneered, raising a skeptical brow. 

My nostrils flared as I crossed my arms over my chest. “If you must know, yes, my team and I will be the backup dancers for Metro Boomin when he debuts his new song tomorrow at the Statue of Liberty,” 

“You? Performing ?” Ji-Ho gawked with a near disgusted expression on his face. “I find that very hard to believe,”

“You thought I’d just wallow in a hole in despair after everything that happened?” I asked him, glaring my eyes at him as I crossed my arms over my chest. 

“Oh, I didn’t think , I knew ,” Ji-Ho taunted, his smirk haunting as he dared to inch closer towards me. 

“I find it odd that you’re obsessed with my apparent downfall,” I tilted my head to the side. “Afraid my comeback will outshine your spotlight?”

“You should have stayed down on the ground, broken and splintered with the glass where you belong,” Ji-Ho threatened. 

I felt my heart flutter in my chest as I stood my ground, refusing to move. I wasn’t the same girl from 2 years ago. I’d prove it to him here and on that stage tomorrow night. 

We both seemed to stare at each other, locking in a death gripping staring contest, waiting for one or the other to break first. Footsteps caught my ear from behind me and Ji-Ho’s gaze flickered for a split second before his face crumpled at the sight of the tall and knowingly more handsome figure approaching. 

“There you are sweetheart,” Miguel’s voice practically sang in relief as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, kissing my temple before he lowered his tone to a purr. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,”

I could tell by his tone alone that he was saying all of this whilst staring right into Ji-Ho’s soul. My ex stumbled a step backwards, as if he were looking at the reincarnations of Hades, and I was his Persephone counterpart. He tried to act tough, but I could see his knees buckle. 

“Who’s this?” Miguel asked with a knowing gaze. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Actually, honey, he was just leaving,” I narrowed my gaze harder towards Ji-Ho. 

Ji-Ho’s stance buckled as he stepped back, surprised by our combined stance. He adjusted the collar of his jacket to improve his already horrendous image, sneering. “Break a leg tomorrow,”

I watched him walk away and once he was out of range, I immediately leaned against Miguel, letting out a deep sigh of relief. “He’s like a leech, I swear!”

“Here’s something to cheer you up then,” Miguel smiled, handing me my coffee cup.

“Thank you,” I breathed easy as I caught a whiff of the aroma, taking a quick sip.

“You’re welcome,” Miguel suddenly leaned in close to my ear, his lips brushing against it. “ Honey ,”

I nearly choked on my coffee. 

“You’re not gonna let that go are you?” I asked him.

“On that contrary, I actually like it,” He grinned, keeping me close as we began to walk away from the vendor I was checking out. 

“Then I’ll consider keeping it and making it a regular thing,” I smiled back at him as I glance around us. “Wait, where’s mom?”

Miguel attempted to hide his snicker, but failed. “She’s back at the Christmas shop,”

Lord have mercy on my soul. 

////////

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[fearofaherobrine]

[Kit] - groans and starts to wake up. her head is throbbing and her brain feels like it was removed, used as a kickball by several large angry men with steel toe boots, then unceremoniously dumped back into her skull... and she is definitely sore all over, including places she's fairly sure shouldn't feel the way they do. She opens her eyes with heroic effort. -

-The ceiling above her is gray with some industrial looking rivets. She can hear some soft snoring and becomes aware that she's covered with a light blanket and what feels like warm rubber hoses under her feet and head. She's still naked and being snuggled from both sides. There's a little red hand attached to nothing, laying lightly over one of her boobs.

[Kit] - softly to herself- ....Wha'fuck?...

[Antonio] Stirs a bit and the hand is withdrawn. - My head... ugh...

[Kit] - looks from one imp to another and tries to get up before deciding that it's a bad idea if she wants to keep the contents of her stomach where they belong. - Ooooh.... what happened last night.. and... where are we?

[Phil] Hmm? - He glances at the ceiling. - Ah. We're home. I believe some ghosts may have visited us in the night.

[Antonio] Low key want to join them. Fuuuck.

[Phil] Tucks his hands behind his head casually. He's laying on his backpack surrounded by slack tentacles like a sleepy octopus. - What a lovely way to wake up.

[Kit] - groans and holds her head as she sits up, careful to stay covered. - I beg to differ... um... not because of the company mind you...

[Antonio] Ugh... my mate is one of those infuriating imps that doesn't get hangovers.

[Phil] Curls a tentacle artfully in the air. - Shape-shifting burns calories. It's not my fault you're a normal imposter. - He smiles sweetly at Kit. - No need to be modest. It's not like we aren't naked too.

[Kit] - blushes a little at the blurry memories as to what went on between the three of them. - I'm.. just not sure who all is around... wait... does that mean you're naked all the time?

[Phil] Yeah? - He pinches a bit of his green skin. - This is just how we are.

[Antonio] I mean... we have our backpacks, and this comes off. - He reaches to either side of his visor and pops it off. His eyes underneath are fairly human-like with black pupils.

[Phil] You just can't see our junk unless we're aroused. We've got a little slit that's hard to see otherwise. Like when I do this. - He closes his mouth and the line vanishes entirely against the surface of his front.

[Antonio] His is a bit sticky. - He makes a gesture to indicate the odd ropes of flesh that connect Phil's upper and lower jaws on both sides. leaving a few exposed teeth through holes behind the larger opening. - I'm fluffy. - He smiles and she can see the skin has a soft jagged edge.

[Kit] - ah... well, naked isn't my normal state. Do you happen to have seen what's left of what I was wearing?

[Antonio] I did not. Sorry. Last I remember we fell asleep on the bed in Doc's kitchen.

[Phil] Probably a good thing we got moved. we'd made quite a mess and they might have been upset about it come breakfast.

[missanissa71]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: KEEN DETROIT XT Soft Toe WOMENS Size 9 Mid Shoe Boots Waterproof Dark Gray Blue.

[mtnkat3]

Don't you dare give up!!!!!

Not unless you don't wanna wear googey cinnamon roll anymore..... !?!?!?!?!?

I just ate a leftover one & still got all that stickiness..... I'd rather share all that yumminess.....

Or did you decide you don't want spicy & sassy & sweet anymore..... or is it all about mischief.....

Being outta the damn loop really fucking sucks rubber dog shit that ain't on a cargo plane from china but on a damn leaky boat in August during a super geostorm kinda hurricane!!!!!

Growly pout. Sorta.

I. Want. You. My. Bears. Angels. Maverick. Mischief makers. I. Don't. Care. What. Anybody. Else. Thinks. Or. Says. I. CRAVE. YOU. . . . .

Now have you got that thru your damn heads yet!?!?!?!?!?

I am following your lead. On all of this. But you have the facts. I don't. My soul knows. But then you make me think otherwise. Twist my guts into a pretzel & make me chew my dang lips so bad they're very chapped even with balm! Wtfh do you want me to think!?!?!?!?!?

I feel your souls but I also know you close down on me. So right now..... I feel ... rudderless. I give my energy to you . . . . . I have very few friends. You.....are my priority.

So you tell me.

Have I been wrong all these years?????

Cause if you have gone thru all these years.. we've gotten this close... 1/64th of an inch here... & now you wanna snuff me out!?!?!?!?!?

I wanna kick your everlovin ass.

Shove my best, most delicious, most moist, googey, sticky, covered in creamy goodness loaded with cinnamon, & spices & nuts in your face... then kick my steel toes stiletto heeled boot up your ass!!!!! Then pour a keg over your head !!!!!

~steam is comin outta my ears!~

Why I outta.....

Prancing back into my cave to lick my wounded shattered smashed to smithereens soul & never gonna come out again.

You are it for me.

I gave you my keys.

Sniff. Wobble. Leaky.

But your throwing them in my face.

I wanna hold all your pieces & mend them... love them..... but. If you don't want me to.....

Then I will go back into my turtle shell & do only the warrior queen daughter nun bit.

Cause losing my soul's mates .....

I can't take that.

Slumped. Hurting. Blubbering. Crying. Bowed.

God.....help me.....please.....?????!?!?!?!?!?

Your broken hearted daughter

Your complex quirky warrior queen daughter

~TkP. 💔😥😳😱☔🌀🌬⛈🌊🙊🙈🙇‍♀️🙏✝️⚓🧭🕯🐯🐾🦉🐢🐐🌳🧶🧵⛓🧰🧣🧤🥾🏔⌚💡⚡🌠🗝🔱⚜💝🐻🦌🧩♠️♾🎯⚓🧭🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

M.12.5.2022 1.38pm est.

[demonboyhalo]

You have a dark aesthetic, but you're pretty wholesome actually. Maybe i havent been here long enough tho ;p

this ask is so nice and i will cherish it Anon (╥_╥) i try my best to keep my blog tone positive and comedic overall and i'm glad my efforts have been noticed! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ Despite my dark aesthetic, i'm actually not too fond of negativity/discourse lmao

Now, don't get me wrong. There is def some angst mixed in with the headcanons ive written on here (cough mostly techno centric cough) along with a lot of snippets i have in my drafts...but i'm a sucker for hurt/comfort. I always prefer to post about things that make me happy, rather than vent about things that don't, yknow?

[ernmark]

When I started this job, I was given appropriate gear: steel-toed boots, heavy weatherproof jacket and overalls that keep me warm in the dead of winter.

At first the clothes were so stiff I couldn't bend down to lace my own boots. I was told they would break in with use and time.

Which was true.

What they didn't mention was that I had to learn how to move in the new gear. How to step so I didn't trip on my own weighted toes, how to stow my keys so I don't have to take off half the gear to open the door, how to get up from kneeling, the little ways you shift your balance to accommodate. They didn't mention the muscle mass you build until the weight doesn't seem so heavy anymore-- until you barely feel it at all.

They didn't mention that even with that added muscle, sometimes working in the rain you'll accumulate so much mud on your boots that every step feels like running a mile. How you keep working until the task is done and endure it, but then you go wash the mud off your boots so you don't track it everywhere, so it doesn't weigh you down, so you can do the work again tomorrow.

Which is good to know if you're writing about heavy gear. Or trying to impersonate someone who wears it.

There's probably a metaphor in there, too, somewhere, but I'll leave that for you to decide.