#if you saw the terrible typo on this no you didn’t and in my defense i had roaches this morning i’m tired

[housefinches]

iwtv fans, spoilers allowed, is this a show i can watch on a good day or is it so sad that it’ll ruin me and i should wait?

i wanna watch it for claudia if that gives you any insight into what my experience will be

[screams-in-writing]

:)

Hey, wanna see if I can make some tears happen?

Because here’s some depressing angst from a much later chapter of the fic.

FYI, it’s 1st pov Mr. Puzzles, with some Smg4, 3 and Mario cameos. No context but for the fact that Mr. Puzzles screwed up badly by making some poor decisions. Also, typed this up on the phone, but since it was flowing really well kept going; so possible typos.

-

There was something of a numbness that had fallen over me the moment my neck suddenly, and quite miraculously, no longer ached terribly as it had before. 

The enormity of what had just happened…

What had just been done, and just where it was I was now…

I could not make sense of it, even if I knew all of the pieces that had led up to this point, and it was only my fault that it had happened due to foolishly believing I could het away with one more passenger to my mind, without malicious intent for once. 

I understood why I was here, even if it hurt me more than I thought possible to know that it was because of a misunderstanding I doubted I would ever have a change to explain, or make up for. 

I’d been at rest, so I’d been within my mind when I had been forcibly (painfully) dragged back to my home world. 

As much as I didn’t want things to end between us like this, there didn’t appear to be much hope that I could get back to your world without assistance, when I still wasn’t at my best.

There were a number of things that could have been done in that moment. 

I could have done a dramatic emergence from my metal head, all dramatic flair with a showman’s smile to hide all the pain and regret and grief that had not yet had time to settle in.

I could have just come out and faced whatever consequences for my actions in my world and your adjacent one, as I figured you’d been the one to ask Smg4 to bring me back home.

A home where I would only ever be alone due to my actions that had sent me careening through the air into your world. 

I could have run; been a coward and faced nothing but loneliness and a loss to do much more than just exist, now that I wouldn’t be actively dying in another world because a man with a tv for a head shouldn’t have been able to survive there.

I chose…to do nothing. 

Attempting to do anything, whether for good or my own purpose, led me to here, so I just wouldn’t come out from my mind. If I didn’t do anything, then I wouldn’t hurt anyone, and I could be left to my misery if what could have been if I had just stopped and thought about anyone apart from myself. 

There wasn’t even a plan to have my screen turn on to face anyone who’d be there upon my rather dizzying return to this world. 

Not even that plumber’s grating voice, which normally would have had me on the defensive, did anything to draw me out of hiding.

Nothing, until there was an incessant tapping on my metal head, and with memory of the last time (dratted trash compactor and its nightmares) I reluctantly, and wearily, turned on my screen. 

Smg4 was there, standing a healthy distance away from me, while wearing a nervous expression as if expecting me to do something. 

“Ugh, great, you just had to try and talk to the tv freak.” Smg3 was a little closer, glaring at me and were it possible, bristling as if he were holding back a tirade of words and possible desire to get into a fisticuffs situation. “I could have already gone back to my cafe but no, you had to bring him back right now. My poor little Eggdog is all alone at the cafe!”

“Don’t you have any customers?” Smg4 appeared grateful for a distraction.

“Yes.” Smg3 turned his ire on the other man. “My cafe had lots of people when I had to leave there, and come here, with you.”

“Mario doesn’t think he saw anyone.” 

Ordinarily, I would have grimaced, but upon seeing that my screen was on, Mario, who, up until said screen turned on, brightened upon. “TV man! Hello! Play Mario some telletubies!”

I don’t say anything to that.

I say nothing at all.

I merely waited for one of them that wasn’t Mario to address me, already resigned, if pained, over the idea that he was likely never going to see you again. And then, Smg4 unwittingly drove that point home with a remarkably reasonable question. 

“Why did you do that?” 

I shut my screen off before any of them could see the broken expression that was about to take the place of the more weary one. When I spoke, it was soft, nearly inaudible, all bravado and spark gone. “None of you would believe me, so I won’t waste your time.”

Smg4 was quiet.

“Are you kinnfing me?” Smg3 scoffed. “Oh that’s rich. You love to hear the sound of your own voice, so why not boast about all the lousy tricks you used on someone that trusted you there.”

I…said nothing, nor did I do anything.

For all intents and purposes, I likely resembled a simple old television that was turned off.

There was some murmuring, but that wasn’t enough for me to bother to turn my screen or to even listen in as I allowed myself to drift within my mind. 

It was a cold comfort. 

Artificial.

There was no one here but myself, and the countless tvs that surrounded me, floating and doing nothing. 

Much like I, myself, was no longer doing anything. 

I didn’t even look or question way that someone had picked up my metal head and carried me along for quite some time. 

It was relaxing, in a way. 

I didn’t have to do anything, because if I did, I would only make things worse.

Everything was already such a mess.

Were I to attempt to explain myself, after what I put Smg4 and his friends through, the explanation would only be hollow words to those them; they didn’t have the whole picture, so how could they judge me without that?

…but they could.

Smg4 and the otheres already had enough to judge me for, no matter the progress I’d made in the world adjacent to this one. 

It didn’t matter that this was all a horrible cluster of connected misunderstandings, but I wasn’t a fool. 

I knew that trying to talk about what really happened in the other world with you at present wouldn’t go over well. With what I was perceived to have done, and how quickly Smg4 and 3 had been to devise a plan to wrench me from your world back to my own…it was too soon to try and mend what had clearly been broken by my own arrogance by believing that things would be just fine, and that there’d be no consequences other than a light scolding.

Perhaps I was a fool after all, to believe that I could experience one of those happy ever after endings I’d watched of so many shows. 

The long walk ended when I felt my metal head being placed in some quiet place.

As before, I didn’t bother to turn on my screen. 

I didn’t want to see where I was.

It was cold.

I could sense it distantly.

There were footsteps that receded from me, as Smg4 could be heard calling out to someone else farther away. 

He’d said nothing to be.

I thought I may have heard the sound of a door close.

That was it, then?

Nothing else was said or done to me, apart from placing me somewhere like an unwanted piece of hardware?

I wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or disappointment, but if even Smg4 had no need for any further conversation with me, then I would remain exactly where I was. 

Within my mind, I curled my body up as tightly as I could. My wrapped wrapper firmly around my legs as I tucked my long limbs up to my chest. I pressed them to my chest snugly.

A static, glitching noise slid out of me.

With a fumbling hand, I forcefully muted myself  before burying my screen into my knees. With the extra silence I tormented myself with the fact that even my mind couldn’t block out the pathetic tears I could no longer even shed.

I would stay here, in my mind, where I couldn’t bother anyone trapped in any of the channels either. 

It had been made abundantly clear, over and over, throughout everything from first finding Smg4 to being punted into your world, and all the way to now, being back here that…that…

Curling my frame up into as small as a ball as best I could with my lanky limbed body, I kept kept my face pressed to my knees despite my whole body being wracked with tremors from unalloyed the emotions battering into me at once. 

Unshed tears were witnessed by no one. 

Anguished, despairing screams of grief, anger and self-loathing were locked behind a muted voice, unheard by none but myself. 

Because even muted, I could internally hear everything in this place that I’d created within my own mind. The tv screens all around me went dim, and the vibrancy of everything in my mind dulled. 

My shoulders slumped, even as I kept my arms wrapped around my legs beneath the knees. Screen staring at nothing, I felt a squeeze within my chest I’d not felt before, as I came to a concussion I’d been avoiding for some time now. 

No one needed me.

No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, and no matter how much I attempted to understand…to try to see more than just myself and my need to meet perfection by any and all means.

I had nothing to show for it.

I was alone again.

The area around me grew dimmer than before, greying here and there in place of the vibrant colors of before. 

I just…stopped. 

Tv head and screen sagging against my knees, I made myself as small as possible while something seemed to crack and shatter into pieces within me as I finally just…stopped moving. 

Hanging suspended in my mind, my face eventually shut off while still muted, as I drifted.

It was safer for everyone that way, wasn’t it?

It was safer you and your roommates; for your whole town.

It was better for Smg4 and his crew, to not be reminded of the bad times that I’d orchestrated and been a part of toward the end of it.

It was better for both worlds if I just stayed away, and didn’t bother anyone anymore. That way, no one would have to put up with me any longer.

The channels that people were trapped within when I came here within my mind?

Gone.

I released them back to their homes, since this world would accept them and because, much like Smg4 and the others, they didn’t want nor need me. 

And you…

You…

There was a traitorous twinge in my chest, of unfamiliar grief yet bitter understanding of your actions due to my foolish assumptions and decisions I’d made so carelessly.

After all was said and done, my own arrogance and confidence led me to the same conclusion as before, despite the struggles to have it be otherwise. 

No one…

…wanted me.

[adarlingwrites]

Taste

Summary: The blue bard is sickeningly sweet for Astarion's preferences, but he'll never forget her taste.

Author’s Notes: Taste is a collection of retellings of Astarion's scenes with the player character from the Baldur's Gate 3 early access, but with a little more embellishments. Plus, it has glimpses of my tiefling's backstory.

I had horrible, horrible artist's and writer's block and I needed to get this out of my system to get the creative juices flowing again. Please excuse any typos or lack of quality.

Larian give us the bard class pls I am begging of you

I - Blueberry Wine

The time for rest has come.

Bedrolls are strewn on the campgrounds, and most of its inhabitants are already asleep. Nothing can be heard save for the crackle of fire, the chirp of birds in the woods, and soft snoring.

If it wasn’t for their common goal of removing those damned illithid tadpoles from their heads before they undergo ceremorphosis, the members of this party wouldn’t even spend five minutes within each others’ presence. Now, they’re sleeping in one place. It takes some measure of trust for that.

The dreams of the tiefling in their ragtag group aren’t sweet tonight, to say the least.

Brows furrowed as another nightmare wormed into her psyche, the tiefling tosses and turns in her bedroll, a thin film of sweat giving her forehead a slight sheen in the firelight. Eyes shooting open, she choked back a gasp, lest she wake up her companions in the camp. The crackle of the campfire and the smell of burning wood gave her some semblance of comfort, at least, reminding her of distant memories.

A warm hearth, a kind face, the smell of freshly baked blueberry pie; simple comforts from her youth that she missed terribly.

The comfort that accompanied the nostalgia was enough to make her drift back to sleep. Woefully, it didn’t stop the nightmares from coming back, now centered around the tiefling’s early years.

Small, bare feet pitter-pattered on the wet pavement, frantic gasps escaped her dry mouth. Choking back a sob, more people went after her, shouting, hurling words that scraped her heart.

“Stop! Thief!”

“Devil!”

“Slay the demon!”

Lungs burning from exertion, the little tiefling whelp coughs, rasps for air, and slides under a cart. In the dark, she can see a narrow alleyway, which she scurries into. The men run past her hiding spot, cursing and muttering amongst themselves. Relief floods through her as their torchlights grew dim.

Safe, at last.

Her trembling arms had been holding on to precious cargo; a stale loaf of bread, wrapped in linen. It’s not a delectable morsel of steak, or rich bone marrow, but it’s better than the rocks she grinded with her sharp teeth for breakfast.

As she takes it out of the cloth, a stone drops in her stomach and horror twists on her young face. The tiefling isn’t holding a loaf of bread, but a severed head of a drow. A scream threatened to escape her throat and pierce the night air, but the tiefling maiden could only gasp as she felt a presence behind her.

Wine red eyes still heavy with sleep met with alert, ruby ones. She isn’t dreaming any longer.

In the dim firelight, she sees him. Astarion.

Truth be told, she doesn’t quite know what to feel about the posh elf. Astarion’s handsome face and fair curls are easy on the eyes, but it only reminded her of how hellish she looks in comparison due to her infernal ancestry. His sharp, calculating eyes puts her at unease, even when his gaze isn’t directed towards her. He has a way of making people feel beneath him, like vulnerable prey. Serenity is not exempt from that, despite her efforts to be pleasant to him. Not to mention, Astarion’s attitude and mannerisms reminded her of the uppity nobles she had the displeasure of encountering in her colorful past.

In short, he’s a handsome fellow with a revolting attitude, at least to Serenity’s standards. Lust and indignation battles with each other in the tiefling’s psyche.

It doesn’t help at all that the elf is fond of calling her pet names, such as “sweetheart” or “dear”. No one calls her such sweet things with genuine intent, not after she saw the drow’s head on a pike, and to hear them from his condescending mouth stirs something dark in her heart.

It especially inflames her whenever he calls her “darling”.

She wanted to pounce on him. However, she wasn’t sure what she wanted after that.

Tear his pretty face asunder with her nails and watch his handsome features contort in agony, perhaps? Or watch him writhe underneath her in a more… carnal manner as she takes out all of her frustration by mashing her ravenous mouth against his lovely lips?

Maybe both?

“Oh, Serenity. You have no need for that sort of… decadence,” she thinks to herself.

Alas, her body says otherwise.

“Shit,” he says upon meeting eyes with her, distracting the tiefling from her thoughts. Serenity didn’t expect such a vulgar word to come out of his pretty mouth, and she didn’t expect the gleaming fangs inside of it either.

How could she not see it the first few times?

The dead boar they found on the road, the fact that she had never seen him consume any food, and the wolfish way he eyes her neck when he thought she wasn’t looking should’ve given it away.

Astarion is a vampire. Worse, he's a vampire who’s intending to sink his teeth in Serenity’s neck.

Whatever terrible things she secretly wanted to do to him, she had no chance of enacting them in this situation. Hells, if anything, Astarion is the one with the capacity to do terrible things to her. The tiefling will be at his mercy, if she doesn’t act fast. So, why isn’t her body doing anything to move?

Heart racing, she needed to say something, at least.

“Stop,” Serenity warns him, voice low, baring her own sharp teeth. The tiefling had considered smashing her precious lute over his head as a last resort. Before the bard can lash out, he pulls back, alarmed.

“No no, it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” Astarion hastily blurts, panic evident in his voice. “ I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just needed- well, blood.”

The elf’s admission confirms it; Astarion is a vampire, a creature enslaved to sanguine hunger.

At that moment, an expression that Serenity hasn’t seen on the elf before twists his features: guilt. The vampire knew he’s betraying her trust, and it shows.

“How long since you killed someone? Days? Hours?” Serenity asks, on guard now, but still sitting on her bedroll.

Eyes widening, Astarion’s tone becomes defensive. “I’ve never killed anyone!” he exclaims. Then, his expression turns grim. “Well, not for food. I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds! Whatever I can get.”

The lass feels slightly reassured that she’s not dealing with a blood-sucking serial killer, but the possibility of him lying puts her on edge again.

“But it’s not enough,” the pale elf speaks again. Serenity half expected him to say this, he did try to bite her after all. “Not if I have to fight. I feel so… weak.”

And there it was, the last thing she expected from him: vulnerability. His reluctance to show weakness was written all over his face. Perhaps it wounds his pride? Regardless of the doubt she has for him, it changed Serenity’s perception of the vampire ever so slightly.

“If I just had a bit of blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.”

Now this is a pleasant surprise. Astarion saying please? Is this a dream?

Still, the tiefling wanted to dig deeper at the truth. Brows knitting together in concentration, she knew better than to use the tadpole, but the damn thing established a psionic link with other infected individuals. 

Serenity pushes into the vampire’s mind to search for the truth.

“I- what’s this? What’s happening?” Astarion blurts, experiencing slight discomfort from the intrusion.

Pushing deep into the elf’s cracked and quivering memories, Serenity strains as she sifts through centuries worth of them, until she has reached its heart. There, she found herself in Astarion’s shoes; quite literally. She sees dark eyes that commanded her to feed, and instinctively, her body follows suit. Serenity, experiencing this through Astarion’s memory, opens her mouth, biting down, but not into a tender, pulsing neck. Though she wanted to recoil in disgust, there was no other choice; she couldn’t physically resist. The choice had been made for her- no, made for Astarion.

Astarion’s fangs pierce the twisting body of a rat - the only thing his master allows him to eat.

In return, Serenity’s own memories leak through the cracks of her psyche, and Astarion finds himself in the body of a wee girl with horns too big for her head. Ravenously, he inhales the sweet, buttery aroma of a freshly-baked pie resting on a windowsill. Astarion’s hands, now small and of bluish color, reach for the baked good with caution. A warm, ash-colored hand presses on his shoulder, and he sees the smiling face of a tall, drow man. Instead of hurting him for attempting to steal, the dark elf ushers him to a table, and offers him a slice with a compassionate smile. Serenity will never forget her first taste of the buttery pie crust, the sweet blueberries, and a hint of lemon and salt.

Now, Astarion will never forget that taste, either.

The connection between them severed, Serenity takes a moment to collect herself.

“You ate animals because you were forced to. Not because you wanted to,” she mumbles, eyebrows knitted together. Is it sympathy? Or perhaps his experiences reminded her of her own relationship with food?

Whatever it was, the tiefling’s perception of Astarion drastically shifted. On the surface, Astarion is a noble who turns up his nose at folks like her, but in truth, he suffered under the hands of a cruel master.

Being a pompous ass is a defense mechanism for him.

“I- yes,” Astarion says with resignation. “Yes, I ate whatever disgusting vermin my master picked. So, you can see why I’m slow to trust you,” he continues, and Serenity swore the expression he wore on his face tugged a few strings in her heart.

“But I do trust you, and you can trust me,” Astarion tells her.

Serenity thinks it might not be fair for her not to. How can she say that she can’t, after she saw his past for herself, and he didn’t show any hostility towards her for intruding upon his darkest, most haunting memories?

“I do. I believe you,” the bard responds, and she can hear his relief when he mutters “Thank you.”

Perhaps Serenity had judged him too harshly in the past. The drow who took her in cultivated compassion in her heart, and it’s beckoning to her.

“Do you need blood?” Serenity asks him, and there is genuine surprise on his face.

“I was about to ask,” he tells her, expression shifting into something more pleasant. “I only need a taste, I swear.”

“As long as you don’t take a drop more than you need,” Serenity replies, loosening her clothing slightly, her smallclothes peeking through.

“Really?” he asks, and he sounds almost eager.

“I- of course. Not one drop more.”

That damn vampire flashes her a smile that sends lightning rippling through her veins.

Astarion’s yearning eyes flicked to her exposed flesh, barely making out the purple tinge on her bluish skin as blood rushed from her chest to her face. Seeing where his eyes are roaming, Serenity feels her heart racing faster, and she swiftly lies down, back turned away from him. The tiefling bard is not about to let her companion see her flustered state.

Face inches away from her head, Astarion catches a whiff of the tiefling’s scent. He quietly thanked the gods that she didn’t smell of sulfur or rotting meat; instead, the bard smells of ash from freshly burned incense, laced with a warm, spiced scent.

The vampire holds her gently, delicately, until he strikes.

Astarion sinks deep, fangs like shards of ice piercing her neck. Serenity lets out a gasp, and her face contorts into an expression of pain and discomfort. Thankfully, the pain is quick and sharp, and as the vampire continues to feed, it fades gently into throbbing numbness. The bard feels her blood coursing through her body, into Astarion’s mouth, who sucked and slurped it hungrily.

He leans forward, one arm almost draping over the bard’s torso to support his weight, while the other still holds her head. Palm running through her short obsidian hair, he stops as they touch one of her horns, hand enclosing into a fist around it. Gently tugging, the elf tilts  her head for better access.

Astarion’s lips are wet from his meal’s blood and sweat, and his own saliva. They glided on the sensitive skin ever so slightly as he pursed them and sucked harder. Serenity found her breath catching in her throat from his actions, pulse quickening as her hand flew to grasp Astarion’s arm, filed fingernails turning white at the end.

In a figurative and literal sense, she’s holding on to dear life.

“Ah, Astarion, that’s enough,” she mewls, hand moving to grasp his hair, fingernails running through his scalp. Not enough to hurt, but enough for the vampire to snap out of it due to the sensation it produced.

The vampire moans, almost carnally, then it is followed by a surprised, questioning grunt. Serenity’s pleas, and the scrape of her fingernails took him from his trance-like state. Immediately, he removes himself from her neck, swallowing thickly.

“Oh. Of course.”

Serenity sits up as he pulls back, light-headed from the blood loss. She turns to the pale elf, her breathing ragged as her fingers gingerly pressed on her bite wound. The tiefling felt a blush creep on her face, neck, and pointy ears as she gazes upon Astarion’s face. In the firelight, she can see that his pupils are blown out in ecstasy, and blood is trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“That- that was amazing,” Astarion purrs, wiping off her blood and bringing his fingers to his mouth, savoring it to the last drop. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel…”

He pauses, and Serenity stopped breathing for a moment.

“Happy,” he continued, sighing in contentment as he gave her a gentle, genuine smile.

Serenity had to blink a few times to confirm that she wasn’t seeing things.

She clears her throat, hoping to dissipate the delicious tension between them. “I look forward to seeing you fight,” the bard says to him, drawing her knees to her chest.

“Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing,” Astarion responds, bowing ever so slightly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more… filling.”

The pale elf turns around and just like that, he is back to normal, snobbish self.

Serenity slumps back on her bedroll, exhaling slowly as her heart finally slows down. Her body crashes from the surge of adrenaline and the blood loss. Turning her head, she watches as the elf stalks towards the forest; stronger, more confident, and ready to hunt.

“This is a gift, you know,” Astarion tells her, back still turned from her, looking over his shoulder.

“I won’t forget it.”

Serenity won’t forget it either.

It didn’t take long before Astarion found a deer in the forest. As he drank the beast’s blood, he couldn’t help but compare the taste to Serenity’s blood. The animal is more filling indeed, but now? Nothing compares to the taste of the tiefling’s delicious blood.

She is the first humanoid he ever tasted, after all.

And how will he describe her taste?

The darling tiefling is bubbly, gentle, and sweet, much like her demeanor; almost sickeningly so, for his standards. It’s comparable to the Monastery of the Yellow Rose’s blueberry wine: a fragrant dessert wine he had the pleasure of consuming with delicate cheeses and light cakes back when he didn’t have any fangs.

Or perhaps he had associated her with the fruit due to her memories mingling with his.

Either way, when he said that he won’t forget it, he wasn’t just referring to the favor she did for him. Astarion was referring to Serenity’s taste as well.

Meanwhile, in the camp, Serenity draws her lute to her chest, plucking the strings softly in an attempt to lull herself to sleep. It doesn’t ease her into slumber like it usually does. Sighing, she squeezes her thighs together, heat pooling between them as she recalled the vampire’s lips on her pulsing neck. Perhaps it’s not the lute that she should be plucking at.

Reaching into the waistband of her trousers, the bard gives in to her secret desires.

At least there weren’t any more nightmares for the night.

[exchangewritingsandramblings]

The ABCs of Steve and Natasha Rogers-Stark

Happy First Anniversary, Babe. Love, Steve

A is for all my love for you. I know it’s cheesy and you’re probably rolling your eyes by now, but buckle up because it gets worse from here.

Before we started dating, you sort of got on my nerves. I know now that it’s a defense mechanism, your prickly porcupine act, to push people away before they can betray you. You’ve had too many betrayals in life, and I won’t be one. 

Contrary to whatever the tabloids say, we didn’t start dating after the first battle we fought together. At that point, we had at least warmed up to each other more, and I’ll admit, I was crushing pretty hard. I wish I would have gotten the nerve to ask you out earlier, so I could spend more time with you. But after that first battle, we started to text; you provided witty quips while I provided typos courtesy of super-strength, tiny screens, and a complete lack of knowledge of technology in the 21st century. 

I started to fall even harder once you, in all your genius, designed a phone for me, taking into account my previous challenges. I was touched that you would spend time creating something for me, and even more touched that it was to better our middle of the night “I can’t sleep because I’ve seen terrible things” conversations. I was so happy to have someone to talk to who was able to understand the things I’ve seen, but I was worried that you only saw me as a friend, and I didn’t want to overstep. 

Every night we’d text, and I became very glad for the fact that I need less sleep than an unenhanced human because it allowed me to spend more late night hours talking to you. I used to daydream about a time when, if one of us woke from a nightmare, we could hold the other and talk about our fears. It would have beat curling up on the couch cuddling a blanket, for sure. 

Finally, we went on a date. Fortunately, you asked me out while I was still mustering up the courage to do so. I’m sure that if you had waited for me, we would have both been waiting for a few more months. 

Our first date was great. We went to a pizzeria in Brooklyn that I remember from when I was a child, and somehow the place is still operating. Being back there, I felt a little bit less out of my time. Yet I was sitting across from a tech genius, who I knew would drag me kicking and screaming into the 21st century whether I liked it or not. Fortunately, when your crush pilots some crazy armor connected to an AI system, you lose reservations over modern technology.

How did I get so lucky? I’m not sure. All I know is that our first date was a success, then the second, then the third… again, if it wasn’t for you being so direct, we’d probably still be waiting on our first kiss. But at the end of the first date, you pulled me over to you (with a surprising amount of strength, I might add!) and kissed me. I think I saw stars (of the red, white, and blue variety… before you feel the need to say that before me. I know you babe). 

I fell more and more in love with you after each incredible date. Time flew by, and all of a sudden, we had been dating for a month, then two, and eventually six. I knew you were special before we started dating, and each passing day reaffirmed that fact. I knew that one day, I was going to marry you. 

Just as things were going well and we had established a nice pattern of domesticity, we were called into battle again. I heard over the comms as you were shot multiple times, with one shot bringing your armor crashing down. After the battle, I rushed to the hospital to see you. That was one of the scariest experiences of my life, and I fight aliens, monsters, and all sorts of other scum for a living! But you pulled through, because you’re the strongest woman I know, and a few bullet holes weren’t going to stop you.

The day that you were discharged from the hospital, we walked out together into the sunshine. I kissed you, and asked you to move in with me, because if that hospital stay taught me anything, it was that life is too short to be timid, and I didn’t want to lose any time with you. 

You laughed at me, and I was so anxious and confused until you shut my spluttering up with another kiss. “Honeybear,” you said, rolling your eyes, “Of course I want to live together. But you’re moving in with me, not the other way around. I have that whole tower getup, remember?” I remembered that I couldn’t stop laughing, partly from the relief, and partly from your sarcasm. 

Movie nights with you became my favorite way to unwind, a tradition we started after I moved in. You’d put on a movie that you’d claim I was “deprived” for not seeing while I was, in your words, a capsicle, bring out a giant tub of popcorn, and we’d cuddle on the couch and watch the film together. It did certainly beat newsreels. My favorite part, I think, is when you’d fall asleep halfway through the movie on me. I knew how hard it was for you to sleep, and I was honored that you trusted me enough to be able to let your guard down enough to finally go to sleep. By the way, honey, you really do need to sleep more frequently!

Another of my most treasured memories with you was the date when we drove out to a cabin I didn’t know you owned, and laid on the grass under the night sky, fingers intertwined as we saw more stars that I had ever seen in my life. The way that the glow of the moon illuminated your features, and the stars in your eyes… Golly, my heart swelled with love for you. And then, for the first time, we… did things that I’m not going to spell out because you know exactly what they are, and I’m sure you’re going to mock me for the fact that right now, as you’re reading this, I probably have a pink flush up my neck. Just remember that you find it adorable!

Engagement ring shopping was an ominous task for me; you would buy yourself the jewelry you liked, and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to find anything that you didn’t have but would like. Finally, I decided to get something custom made for you. I wanted something with symbolism, so I got you a pattern of stones that looked like your arc reactor. Cheesy, I know, but I’m forever grateful to that thing for keeping shrapnel out of your heart so that I was able to enter. And yes, Natasha, I know you’re rolling your eyes right now. Just roll with it. 

Planning a proposal was no simple feat, either. Nothing I thought of could ever live up to the idea of a perfect proposal that I had in my head. So instead, I took to carrying the ring with me everywhere, knowing that when the perfect moment came, I would be ready. We were standing on the tower roof, looking over the fantastic New York skyline. The lights of the city reflecting off your face reminded me of the date we had under the stars, and I asked you what the building in the distance was, knowing full well that it was related to some scientific pursuit and that would keep you distracted for long enough for me to get onto one knee.

Once you had finished explaining, there was a period of quiet, where you didn’t realize that I wasn’t standing next to you. Finally, it registered with you, and you turned around. I don’t think I ever saw anything so beautiful, and I sketched it as soon as you went to sleep that night. Check the wall of the living room, when you have a chance. Of course you said yes, and you definitely cried (don’t even try to tell me I was seeing things, Stark).

I didn’t think we’d ever be ready with a planned wedding; wedding planning was worse than I expected, filled with a lot of stress that I didn’t know what to do with. Fortunately, you were already well-versed in planning formal events, and you were the real powerhouse behind our wedding. I just stood there and looked pretty. 

When coordinating wedding attire, we decided to wear our suits. How perfect was that to symbolize us, and the pictures of us shoving cake into each other’s mouths while in our superhero costumes were truly the highlight of our wedding album. 

We got married on a Thursday, because that was the one year anniversary of the battle we first fought in together, when we met each other. It was sappy and cliche and perfect, and both of us cried reciting our vows. I have photographic evidence to prove it, Natasha, don’t even try to deny it. 

For our honeymoon, we decided on a tropical getaway to some island that you owned. I really, at that point, should have not been surprised that you owned an island, yet I still was. As we laid under the stars, I thought back to that date, the one I mentioned earlier that makes me blush, when we did… things… for the first time together. And then we did the same, uh… things, again. This was the first time we did that as husband and wife, and as we stood in the sea, your legs wrapped around my waist, your arms around my neck, and the moonlight reflecting off your perfect skin… I think I fell in love all over again. 

I am a very lucky man to be your husband, Natasha, and I’m reminded of that every day, with little things such as the way your nose scrunches up when you’re working on calculations, or the way your tongue pokes out of your mouth when you solder. The way that you aren’t fully alive until you have your morning cup of coffee, and the way that you play with your bots when you don’t know I’m watching. 

There are endless more ways that I am completely in love with you, and every day we share together fills my heart with wonder. When I was thawed from the ice, I thought that any of my chances at love had disappeared with time. I’m so glad to have been so wrong. 

[scp-168]

“Gabriel fucks up” The new horrible thing were a horrible oc of mine does horrible things! But this time I translated it! What a miracle! 

There might be some typos but I hope they don’t make this impossible to read

also im dying to know what you guys think and if you have questions i will definetely answer in an oc ramble

This is very long! I’m so sorry mobile users I really hope the Read More works!💕

content warnings for violence, blood, self harm, and abuse

This family had always been propense to tragedy. From the father’s side, chronic illness in every generation. From the mother’s side, accidents and misfortune plagued them.

All that tragedy fell in the children of that union.

The youngest found himself paralyzed, surrounded by his family. Surviving a fire was a miracle, but it didn’t matter. He was only able to stare at the roof, and once in a while, the horrified faces of his brothers and father. The mother could not enter the room, since she cried inconsolably every time she tried.

“We heard he would come soon, only he can save him.” the boy heard the town doctor said one time he was awake.

He didn’t know for how long he was like that, barely clinging to life and consciousness. Each day that passed, Gabriel Garza wished more and more that a miracle were to occur and that they would let him die.

One night, he heard it. He heard the town’s rejoice, their screams of celebration, their begging to get healed of any ill that soon turned into joy and thankfulness.

For a moment, Gabriel heard nothing in the room. No cry, sob, encouragement words, not even his own breathing. The world had stopped.

Did he die? He wasn’t sure, but it felt nice.

“Gabriel?” asked from the door a weak and trembling voice.

“Palmer?” He wanted to ask, but he hadn’t been able to speak since the accident, so everything stayed in silence.

“Gabriel...I’m...I’m sorry...I didn’t-” From the tone and volume, it was clear Palmer was in the border of breaking down, but he was getting closer rather than running away. “I’m sorry…”

Gabriel was annoyed. “Why didn’t you stop me?” He wanted to ask, but thinking about the accident only made things hurt more.

“I heard your dad calling...the...the horseman so you...you will be-” A sob stopped Palmer, but he managed to continue “You will be fine soon, Gabriel.”

The world stopped again, with the difference that now only two friends existed in it. It was peaceful despite all the pain and cries, all of that didn’t matter, Gabriel just wanted to leave and play with Palmer, do anything again. If things could stay this tranquil...

Then, it all broke when he heard his dad and brothers enter the house again, with a stranger following.

Palmer left the room and shyly greeted everyone that entered, staying with the brothers to stare from afar.

“Please...my son….my son...you have to save him, please” begged the father.

The figure observed the kid. Nobody knew how he looked at that charred body, if with mercy, disdain, or pity, the plague mask obstructed any resemblance of humanity from the horseman.

Gabriel opened his eyes to find himself face to face with that terrifying mask. He knew who was behind. Pestilence, horseman of the apocalypse, savior and protector of the town. The only person able to cure him.

Gabriel saw how the hand of the horseman slowly approached him. What was he going to do? The man abruptly lowered his hand to the boy’s forehead, this being as painful as the fire he had survived. Gabriel felt his life was leaving him, and painfully screamed at the top of his lungs. He was dying. He was dying.

Gabriel never felt in so much pain before.

Then he felt nothing.

Was he still in bed? There was no more pain, yes. But there was no hand petting his head, telling him everything will be okay. There was no delicate touch from a father who thought his son would never run or play around the house anymore. There was no hugs or kisses from a mother that saw how her son looked like a kid again and not a charred corpse. There were no light touches and teases from curious brothers that wondered if anything still hurt. There was no trembling hand from a friend who held and grasped with fear the hand of someone who he never thought he would see again.

There was nothing.

-----

Blessed to feel no pain, they told the kid. It really was not feeling anything at all, heal of anything that hurt him, and the sharp and pointy teeth all the marked in town had. It was difficult the first months. Nobody thought badly of the gift and everyone wanted Gabriel to find the benefits of his new abilities.

When he fell face first into a pot and horrified his family with his face covered in blood, he started to understand how most saw as a benefit his new gift.

But Gabriel could not fully take advantage of it.

Palmer was there.

Since the accident, Palmer dedicated himself as Gabriel’s new protector. Not even his parents cared so much for him as Palmer did. It was boring.

A kid needs to find a way to entertain himself.

It started with some scissors. An accident while doing homework, he defended himself with that excuse, but he really wanted to see how deep he could hurt himself with them. Palmer was horrified and ended up making the two's homework by his own. A knife while he was eating. A burn while he tried to cook. A fall from the stairs for being careless. All these "accidents" put Palmer in an state of immense panic and worry. There were moments when he didn't know how to help his friend and he would cry from feeling so useless. That was one of the biggest joys Gabriel found after receiving his gift. He couldn’t quite explain it, but there was something about reaching that breaking point. Accidents increased and then they stopped being accidents.

Threats started next year. There were things as “I’ll fall down the stairs unless you do my homework” but then they turned into bigger and more impossible things to complete that would give to more terrible and painful consequences for anyone that wasn’t Gabriel. There were time he had hurt Palmer, but it wasn’t as fun. Gabriel had done almost anything that would’ve kill any average person before becoming a teenager, from getting stabbed, shot several times, dismemberment, and even eating things like glass, blades, poison, and nails.

He had told other all of these, but besides some scolding from his parents calling him out in his cruelness towards his friend, nobody seemed to care. The world kept spinning as if nothing wrong was going on, as if all that was just how things were.

In many of those moments, Gabriel swore he could feel again.

------

Gabriel bandaged his wrist while his friend still recovered from the show. He didn’t need them, but they would be good evidence for his finding.

“Did you finish?” Palmer asked, still recovering  from the nausea of seeing so much blood. It really hadn’t been much, but some drops were too much for him.

That being said, it hadn’t been some droplets.

“Yeah, yeah, it was nothing.” Gabriel cut the gauze and moved his fingers. All were moving. All was fine.

“That was a bear trap, Gabriel.” Palmer turned around to see his friend.

They were both using the town’s sentinel uniform, just with some variations. Their job was to watch out the town’s perimeter.

“Worse if any of us stepped on it” He stood up from the log he was sitting in and watched the forest around him “Not me, but what if you stepped on it? Or Robin? Imagine if Carla stepped on one, what would the sheriff think if his daughter lost her leg?” he made a mocking face of anger and crossed his arms, taking the usual posture the sheriff would have “He would say something like: And you call yourself a sentinel! My sweet angel is in the hospital now because of you! Which one of you didn’t report the strangers who set up these traps?”

“It’s not funny. Carla has suffered enough because of our negligence.”

“In my defense, she wanted to run away from here with that guy from the neighbor town. The one time I follow orders correctly and you all got mad.”

“You shot her in the leg. She had to be marked to not lose it.”

“But, didn’t you see how she runs now?” Gabriel got closer to Palmer and put his arm around him “I still got the best gift in town but...running that fast is kind of cool.”

“Stop. This isn’t a game. We should head back and report this.”

“I know, I know.” Gabriel pushed Palmer aside, heading to the zone they haven’t revised yet. “But I doubt whoever that put these just left one trap.”

“Gabriel, let’s...let’s head back to town. Nobody gets out anyways…” Palmer instead looked back at the town.

“We all can get out.”

“You know I can’t.” He kept staring, with a more bleak expression. Palmer knew the rules. The marked could leave town as long as they brought new people in, the unmarked had to stay.

“I can change that.”

“Gabriel, I can’t-”

Palmer was interrupted by the sound of a gun cocking.

He quickly turned towards Gabriel “You said you...you wouldn’t bring...bring it…”

“I knew you wouldn’t go with me alone if I told you I was bringing it.” Still pointing, Gabriel approached Palmer slowly and grinning “One shot in any of your organs and we could get out of this putrid town.”

“Gabriel, I don’t-” He wasn’t sure of what to answer. He had always wanted to leave, but the town had been so nice towards his family since any of them could still be perfect hosts. This town was all he knew.

Gabriel changed his expression to a more serious one “What’s wrong? Afraid of death? Afraid that they won’t save you? That you will bleed to death in the woods?” He smiled mockingly “I thought you were scared of being chosen, do you not want to end up like me?”

And he was. Palmer was frozen with fear, he knew that choosing the right or wrong words didn’t matter, that in any moment his childhood friend could end his life by shooting him with no mercy.

“Please…” was the only thing that could get out of his mouth.

Gabriel shot.

The bullet grazed Palmer’s arm.

He sighed with relief, closing his eyes to enjoy living for a few moments again, being saved from all his fears by mere millimeters.

Then he fell a strong and precise punch to his gut, for a moment his breathing completely stopped. Palmer fell to the ground in pain, barely registering what had happened.

“Coward” Gabriel didn’t give time to Palmer to recover and kicked him in the stomach, hurting too the arm that was trying to protect him.

Palmer groaned in pain. He cowered into himself and feared that this was how he would die. The bullet would’ve been a mercy.

“You are a fucking coward” Gabriel was furious, he raised his leg, ready to stomp but hesitated for a moment “I give you a chance to do something for us for once and you just-” and stumped Palmer’s side.

He screamed in agony. It wasn’t his full strength, and Palmer knew this because he was still breathing, with difficulty, but still breathing “Stop! Stop! Please!”

He heard the gun cocking again.

“You never changed.”

Strength was abandoning Palmer, his vision could make nothing more than a blur, he whimpered and broke into tears “Please…” His voice was broken and trembling, almost sounding like the scared boy all those years ago.

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

He didn’t know what to answer. He couldn’t think, all the pain was unbearable. He whimpered and tried to speak.

“I don’t know...I never...never…” he couldn’t go on and kept crying, mumbling to get forgiven. Curled up, he closed his eyes and hoped the last thing he would hear to be a gunshot.

It never came.

When Palmer opened his eyes, it was dawn.

His walk towards the town was slow and painful. Nobody had to know what had happened. Nobody had to know he was injured. There were so many things in his mind and they were all reaching to a daunting conclusion, but Palmer only wanted to get home and be with his rats.

Gabriel watched Palmer’s arrival from afar. So many thoughts flooded his mind, but he wasn’t sure how to feel about them. He thought of the routine that everything had become, his place in town as a trophy and shield, the lives he had ended with no problem, and the ones he let go to see if they could bring anything new to his life. New experiences, new reasons, something, anything.

The week passed like any other with no changes.

And one day, Palmer went missing.

[fizzingwizard]

Merry Digi-Christmas!

This is my Secret Santamon gift for @escapingtheirony​ who requested a post-series MimixMichael story! Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy it.

I couldn’t help throwing in a few of my other favorite pairings as well. And I sort of went more PG than G? Hopefully it’s not too strong for you. (If it is you can tell me and I’ll edit it.) I had a lot of fun writing this. But it’s very unedited so typos galore I’m sure. I have this weird habit of just leaving entire words out sometimes?

Wishing you all a wonderful 2018.

---

Following the events of 2002, the Chosen Children’s Christmas party turned into an excuse for them to get together when circumstances otherwise kept them apart. By the time Mimi was 20 years old, it had grown into a grand tradition. Even with the whole gang scattered this way and that - the older kids attending different universities, the younger ones busy with school and clubs — during Christmas they all made what effort they could to spend time with their old friends. Getting the Digimon together was also a benefit. Though Palmon, at least, never complained if much time passed before she saw one of the other Digimon, she was always thrilled whenever Mimi penciled in a gathering on the calendar.

It was Christmas Eve towards the end of her second year of college, the night of the Christmas party, and Mimi was closing up the quirky crepe shop where she’d been employed since moving back to Japan. “Quirky” was an understatement, at least according to Taichi. They served nearly any flavor combination, from squid ink to bacon fat and jelly bean. The menu was right after Mimi’s own heart.

She was outside unplugging the colored lights they’d strung around the three foot tall passionfruit and chicken liver crepe statue to make it “festive” when a familiar voice hailed her.

“Fancy meeting you here, my dear.”

There was only one person who talked to her like a mid-century film star, and that was Michael Barton. Mimi squealed, jumping straight up in her excitement and tripped over the cord of lights. Michael grabbed her before she could swan-dive onto the sidewalk.

“That happy to see me?”

“Michael!” She pressed his cheeks between her winter-pink fingers until he had fish lips. “What are you doing here! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming!”

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” he answered as best he could. “Wow, Mimi, your hands are so cold.”

She dropped them to her sides. “Well, sorry about that.”

He took one back and kissed it. “I didn’t say I minded.”

“Look who’s turned into Casanova.” She found herself blushing, a thing she didn’t often do, especially not because of Michael’s dated courtship techniques. Lately things between them had… kicked up a notch, though. Where before there had only been play and youthful flirting, now there was something more serious. More grown up. She hadn’t quite decided how she felt about it, but ready or not, there it was.

“Why did you think I pestered you for your work schedule last week? Let’s go celebrate. Drink champagne — you’re legal now, right? — stay up hideously late.”

“Not that I’m not ecstatic to see you, but I wish you’d told me. I kind of have plans.” She made a pouty face. Part of her did feel bad that he’d come all this way, from America, but… still. He should have warned her.

Michael seemed at a loss for a moment. “Oh, really? What plans?” he asked with a sheepish grin.

“Christmas party with my friends.”

“Ah, I see. Well, in that case I’ll go back to my hotel. Hopefully I can see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but — wait.” She grabbed his arms as he turned to shuffle off. “You can come with me!”

“Are you sure your friends won’t mind? I’m sure you haven’t planned for an extra mouth.”

“No, of course not, it’s just Taichi-san and the gang. And Taichi-san and Daisuke-kun are bottomless pits, so we tend to prepare more food than you’d think.”

“Ah. So you’re saying I should pick off their plates?”

“Trust me, it’ll feel like a buffet.”

They laughed, and Michael waited while Mimi finishing locking things up. Then they trudged shoulder-to-shoulder through the crisp Tokyo night.

~~~~~ (continued below)

The party was to be held at Taichi and Yamato’s apartment this year. After picking up Palmon and Betamon, Mimi and Michael headed straight over. Mimi rang the doorbell. Yamato answered. He took one look at them and let out a long groan.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, we’re already trying to cram twelve people in here and now you bring guests?”

“Just the one,” Mimi replied defensively.

Michael waved. “Hi, Yamato. Long time no see. Don’t worry, you can just perch me on top of the fridge. I’ll play the part of the Elf on the Shelf.”

Yamato shook his head, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Koushirou already took the fridge.”

“… What.”

“Don’t ask me. We —”

“Hey, who’s at the door?” Taichi suddenly materialized out of Yamato’s shadow, swinging an arm around his friend’s neck while he took a long gulp of something in a plastic cup. “Mimi-chan! And… Mitchell!”

“Michael.”

“Michael! Yeah yeah, I knew that! What’re you standing around here for? Is our welcome mat so interesting?”

Mimi and Michael glanced down. “There… isn’t a welcome mat,” Michael said slowly.

With a serious expression, Taichi nodded. “Exactly. Makes you pause for thought, doesn’t it?” He then thrust his cup into Michael’s hand. “Here you go. Stop being a wallflower and come inside. It’s like a clown car in here, watch out that you don’t end up with your nose in someone’s arm pit.”

“Taichi-san, what’s in this?” Mimi asked, peering into the cup while Michael took an experimental sniff.

“… Uh.” Taichi turned his head and yelled to someone in the kitchen area. “Miyako-chan! What’d you put in my cup!”

“Melon soda and Sprite and iced tea,” Miyako’s voice shouted back.

Taichi shrugged at them. “The brewmeister has spoken.”

“There’s no alcohol?” Michael asked.

“Nah, too many of us are still minors, so all refreshments are G-rated.” Yamato snorted at Taichi’s explanation. With a snigger, Taichi added: “’Course, later, when the babies go home, you can have a go at our private stash if you want.”

“Works for me.” Michael took a deep swallow of the mixture. He frowned thoughtfully, gazing into the depths of the cup, then let out a huge burp.

“Attractive,” Mimi deadpanned. “Just the kind of man I always dreamed of.” She snatched the cup out of his hand and wrinkled her nose in scrutiny. “Hmm… this needs gummy bears.”

Michael chuckled. “Whatever you say, toots.”

“What’s that?” Taichi asked. “Toots.”

“A terrible nickname,” Mimi sighed, sounding very put upon.

“A classic,” Michael objected.

“Oh my god, close the door!” Sora suddenly rammed through them and wrenched the door shut. “It’s like 0 degrees outside. Hi Mimi-chan, hi Michael. You two are gonna get it!” She boxed first Taichi, then Yamato about the ears.

“Hey, you all said we had to play host and invite people in!”

“Yeah, you never said anything about having to close the door!”

They ran off with Sora hot on their heels, leaving Michael and Mimi staring after them. After a pause, Michael said: “And here I thought you were the weird one of the group.”

“Who, me?”

~~~~~

Yamato’s less-than-warm-welcome was, after all, rather justified, Michael thought upon observing just tiny the apartment really was. A small living area, with an adjoining kitchenette, toilet, and bathroom that wouldn’t even have filled the entire hallway at his house in New York made up the party area. Decorations were sparse — a bit of crepe paper garland, a Snoopy doll wearing a Santa hat, and on the desk, a snowglobe that held a miniature of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. (“I gave them that,” Mimi informed him proudly.) Yamato and Taichi’s bedroom had been cleaned and opened up to provide more space, as it was only separated from the living room by a pair of sliding doors. In order for all thirteen people plus Digimon to fit, they all had to cram in against the walls, and pick their way carefully through a designated walking lane down the middle whenever they had to get up.

“How do two people share rooms here?” Michael asked, somewhat in awe. He drew his long knees up to keep his toes out of the walking lane.

“Oh, it’s common in Japan. Besides, there’s usually more than just two,” Takeru supplied. “Aniki’s bandmates spend a lot of time here most days.”

“Yeah, and I get banished outside,” Taichi complained.

Yamato knocked his shoulder. “Not like you’re ever here anyway.”

“College keeping you busy?” Michael asked with a smile.

Shaking his head, Taichi started passing around a bowl of chips. “College is meh. Koushirou is the reason I never sleep anymore.”

“I think you sleep plenty,” Koushirou said. (He had, indeed, claimed the fridge. It was in the living room rather than out by the kitchenette, and he’d placed his portable router on top of it, drawn up the only chair Michael could see, and was sat there typing away on his laptop. According to him, “the wifi signal craps out if I set it up anywhere else.”)

Looking confused, Michael took the chip bowl as it came to him. “Why is that?” He glanced at Taichi, then at Koushirou, tapping intently on his keyboard. “Oh, I remember — you two are dating, aren’t you?”

Taichi’s expression didn’t change, but he flushed scarlet to the tips of his ears. But Koushirou didn’t appear to have heard him. There was a loaded break in conversation while Michael struggled to figure out if he’d said something wrong. Then Miyako could take it no longer.

“How was your flight, Michael?” she burst out.

“Uneventful. There was some terrific turbulence a couple hours over the Pacific, the lady next to me dropped her glass of —”

“Agumon!” Gabumon tore across the room to the snack table, where Agumon had sneaked up dangerously close to the Christmas cake. “That’s for later! Don’t be greedy!”

“But it smells ready!” Agumon whined.

“Dinner first.” Hikari smiled. “Or you’ll spoil your appetite.”

“No I won’t.”

That was probably true, but Hikari only made a shushing noise and ushered them away.

“Man,” Jou heaved a sigh. “I wish I could just jump on a plane any time I felt like it and go visit my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend lives down the road from you,” Yamato pointed out.

“Still, I get the feeling I spend less time with her than Mimi-kun does with Michael.”

Gomamon stopped munching on the chips long enough to say: “That’s because there are so many books in your place that your girlfriend can’t find the door.”

While Jou and Gomamon wrestled, and the others were occupied with egging them on, Michael seized his chance. With caution, taking care not to be noticed, he let his hand creep across the wood-paneled floor and into Mimi’s lap, and laced his fingers with hers. Mimi glanced at him quickly, the waves of her bright, thick hair bouncing. Then she smiled, and squeezed back.

Michael couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face. He didn’t know how long their eyes stayed locked, only that it was long enough for someone to notice, if they hadn’t all been occupied placing bets on who had a better chance at winning a thumb war, Jou or Gomamon. (“Hello, Gomamon doesn’t even have thumbs.” “Sure but still — the other player is Jou.”)

All except one — Sora. Whose warm brown gaze shifted over them as she stood in the opposite corner, sipping tea from a mug. Her brow raised, but when she lifted the mug he saw she was smiling.

~~~~~

The night wore on. Body heat and an electric space heater kept them warm (the apartment didn’t have an air conditioner and Taichi and Yamato claimed to be too cheap to buy one). There was some kind of hot pot for dinner that Yamato had made, to which Taichi had contributed rice, fried horse mackerel, and pickles as sides. It was a serious meal.

“Comes from so many of us being foodies,” Mimi told him.

And the food didn’t stop there. The Christmas cake was cut around eleven o’clock, Sora had brought delicate homemade matcha cookies, and Daisuke announced well after twelve that he’d also brought enough instant ramen for everyone to have a midnight snack. Of the humans, only he and Taichi ate any of it, but the Digimon were only too happy to keep right on eating.

Michael had hoped there would be mistletoe. He looked around but couldn’t find any. He decided to ask Hikari.

“Mistletoe?” She stared at him uncomprehending. Then — “Oh… the stuff that if you’re caught standing under it with another person, you have to kiss them? It’s not so popular in Japan.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Why did you want it? Do you need it to kiss Mimi-san?”

Michael’s cheeks reddened. “Well, I’d heard that people in Japan are more private about displays of affection — of course Mimi isn’t like that at all, not in New York anyway, but seeing as I’m a foreigner and guest here —”

Hikari laughed. It sounded like the tinkle of a wind chime. “Oh, you don’t have to be so careful among friends. Come on, Michael-san! Can’t you tell just by watching that we love a party?”

“Are — are you sure? I mean, I haven’t seen anyone else even holding hands, and I know a bunch of you are dating each other.”

“Yamato-san and Sora-san have been busy keeping the party running smoothly.” Hikari held up her fingers and started ticking off each couple as she spoke. “And before you got here, Daisuke-kun and Ken-kun were making out on Oniichan’s futon. To tell the truth, the only reason Takeru-kun and I weren’t in on the fun is because we feel awkward with our brothers around,” she added.

Oh, that was a good reason.

“Alright, I believe you. But what about Taichi and Koushirou? I felt like I made everyone awkward just by asking about them…”

“Well. The thing is, Oniichan and Koushirou work together — Digital World stuff. I don’t know about all of it. That’s what Oniichan meant when he said Koushirou-san keeps him busy. But as it happens…” She leaned in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oniichan asked Koushirou-san out a while ago, and he said yes. But the next time Oniichan mentioned it, Koushirou-san acted like he didn’t remember it happening. So things have been a little… strained, I guess? They still see each other every day, but I know Oniichan’s really confused, and wondering if Koushirou-san changed his mind and that’s why he won’t discuss it. So as of now they’ve never actually been on a date.”

“Oh — Mimi had made it sound like —”

“Yeah, I’m guessing Mimi-san got a little too over-excited. She tends to do that sometimes.”

Mmm, much as he loved her — “Yeah, she does.”

Something gleamed in Hikari’s eye. “Mistletoe wouldn’t be a bad idea. We don’t have any, but…”

She darted off. Somewhat bewildered, Michael started to stroll back to his corner with Mimi, only to find she was no longer there. There were very few places to hide, so he didn’t have to look long before he discovered her just about climbing over Ken while she strung some fallen garland around him. Daisuke was helping gleefully.

“Ah,” Michael coughed. “Do I want to know?”

“We’re decorating,” Mimi told him.

“Yes.” Daisuke nodded. “Isn’t Ken beautiful?”

Ken turned to Michael with a look of longsuffering. “I’m told I’m substituting for a Christmas tree.”

“We need a star for his head,” Mimi declared. Then she looked up at Michael, as if expecting him to produce one out of thin air.

Michael stared back at her. Perhaps long exposure had inured him to her many idiosyncrasies, or maybe she’d just matured over the years, but she didn’t often surprise him with her whims anymore. He couldn’t resist scanning the room in case any alcohol from Taichi and Yamato’s stash had been served without him noticing. “I, uh… here?”

He handed her his crumpled napkin.

Mimi’s face fell. “I’m sure Ken-kun doesn’t want your used napkin on his head.”

“It’s not used!” Michael waved his hands. “It’s not used,” he repeated to Ken, who bobbed his head reassuringly.

“Sora-san!” Mimi yelled. “We need a star for Ken!”

Sora made some reply, but Michael didn’t catch any of it but sheer exhaustion.

Mimi pouted. “Well, you’re no help.”

“Taichi-san!” Daisuke cried. “We need a star.”

Taichi pushed Yamato into his lap. Daisuke blinked down. “… I meant a star that could fit on Ken’s head.”

“TaichiImgonnamurderyou,” Yamato mumbled into his thigh.

“Are you sure there isn’t any alcohol here?” Michael whispered to Jou somewhat desperately. But he might as well not have spoken — Jou had fallen asleep with his face half-pressed against the balcony window, mouth slack and glasses askew, as several Digimon raced back and forth picking scraps off his forgotten plate.

Michael went back to his partner. “Betamon, am I having a good time?”

Betamon’s eyes shone as he looked up with his mouth full of cake. “Mmmphhggg!”

“Time for games!” Hikari announced, striding into the center of their cramped circle. Her hands were full of disposable wood chopsticks. “Let’s play Ousama Game!”

Suddenly Michael wished there was alcohol.

~~~~~

The clock struck one a.m. Everyone stared at their chopstick. In spite of the lack of heat in the room, more than one person was sweating.

“So…” Daisuke glanced around. “Who’s the first king?”

After a moment, Yamato sighed. His head dropped in his hand as he raised his chopstick.

Takeru whistled. “Nice going, big bro!”

“Shut up,” Yamato grouched.

Taichi smiled big. “What’s your command, my liege?”

Yamato seemed to think, though Michael got the impression he was more feeling sorry for himself than coming up with some great plan. “Number two and number six, finish your drinks.”

“Whaaaat,” Mimi whined. “That’s boring! Besides, all we’ve got is soft drinks!”

“When you’re the king, you can make the rules,” Yamato snapped back.

Shoulders drooping, Mimi took an unhappy glance at her cup and knocked it back. “Whatever, I’m number six.”

Koushirou said he was number two, and polished off his oolong tea without any fuss. The chopsticks were collected and drawn again. Michael laughed softly to himself, having drawn number five for the second time in a row.

“Ooooh, I’m the king!” Miyako said with excitement. “Let’s get things started! Numbers five and twelve have to kiss!”

Mimi let out a whoop. “Yeah, that’s my girl!”

“And not just a little peck on the cheek! I want to see passion!”

Ah. Now he understood Hikari’s plan, though so far it wasn’t working out quite how she’d hoped, Michael guessed. With an easygoing smile, he lifted his number five chopstick. “That’s me. Who’s the lucky number twelve?”

“That would be me.” It was Taichi who answered, laughing so hard he was barely coherent. “Oh man, Michael. I gotta apologize. My breath smells like fried fish.”

“Here.” Yamato passed him an Altoid. Taichi popped it in his mouth, then leaned forward, expressive lips puckered.

Unable to keep from grinning, Michael peeked at Mimi. She mimed dip-kissing the air. With that for encouragement, Michael put his hands on Taichi’s shoulders and kissed him full on the mouth. He heard a few of the girls cheer, and someone — Yamato, he thought — gave a hum of approval. Seeking to draw out their laughter, he kept going, climbing over Taichi until he was just about on top of him. Taichi didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact it felt as if he was shaking with silent laughter. One of his broad brown hands crept up Michael’s leg and squeezed his butt.

That sent the group into hysterics. Michael and Taichi finally broke away, both with silly grins and flushed cheeks.

“Welcome to Japan,” Taichi said when there was a break in the laughter. “What do you think of our traditional greeting?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I’ve mastered every nuance.” Michael frowned in mock disappointment. “Maybe we should keep practicing.”

“No, you will not.” Michael’s heart fluttered as Mimi inserted herself between his legs. She leaned towards him, breath tickling his nose. “That was fun and all, but now I’m jealous. If you plan to practice, practice with me.”

Mimi was so pretty. He never forgot how pretty she was. He’d thought so in junior high, when they’d first met, and the first seedlings of puppy love sprouted. And he’d thought so while she experimented with makeup, a new hairstyle and color every month, because she made everything seem so much fun that how could he help it?

In middle school she hadn’t taken his crush seriously. In high school she’d put off him strongly enough that he’d stopped asking, tried dating other girls. After all, he was good-lucking, and friendly, and the son of a famous actor — most girls were flattered if he paid them attention. To say Mimi’s rejection made him want her all the more would be a mischaracterization. Michael thought he was made of sterner stuff than that. It was just that he genuinely had more fun with her than with anyone else, and whenever he thought he’d got her out of his system, there’d she be again. And finally, their senior year of high school, she’d accepted his feelings and agreed to one date. The one turned into two, then three, and so on, until they found themselves celebrating their three year anniversary and unable to remember a time when it was different.

He loved her, and he thanked the heavens every day that she loved him back.

Mimi settled into his lap and drew his head down. Michael didn’t hesitate as their lips met. Her body molded against his, warm and melty, the fuzzy stuff of her sweater tickling his neck as her arms wrapped around his neck. Like he’d done so many times, he lost himself in the enticing pressure of her pink lips, her lashes butterfly soft against his jaw.

At last they parted, both breathing a little faster usual. She gazed back at him, and gave a little laugh.

He was thinking about something to say when Jou poked his arm and handed him a couple of chopsticks. “If you two are ready to join the rest of us,” Jou said with a wry smirk.

Red-faced, Michael took the chopsticks — eight and thirteen — and handed thirteen to Mimi. She seemed comfortable where she was, curling up against his chest as she inspected her number.

Iori was the new king. His decree was for numbers one and four to exchange socks for the duration of the game. This became entertaining when it turned out that one was Daisuke and four was Hikari, and Hikari’s powder blue cat-face socks in no way fit on Daisuke’s much larger feet. Hikari flat out refused to put on Daisuke’s, which were red and green and Christmassy, but more than anything smelly. They were instead draped over the TV set.

Next Ken drew king, and set numbers twelve and three (Takeru and Miyako) in a competition to see who could recite “Jugemu Jugemu” all the way through the fastest. Neither could remember all the words, so it ended in a draw.

Sora challenged numbers ten and eleven (Daisuke and Yamato) to name as many animals in English as they could. Yamato beat Daisuke soundly. Daisuke implored Michael for help, but perhaps having imbibed a bit too much of the social culture here, Michael responded: “Sorry, I like to watch you suffer.”

Daisuke got his chance for revenge the very next turn, savagely declaring, “Numbers seven has to give number two a piggyback ride!” But seven turned out to Taichi, and two was Hikari, so in the end it was a pretty poor attempt at vengeance.

They played a few more rounds, until most everyone had had a go at being king. Taichi held the record for taking the most commands. Only Mimi had yet to be King, so for the last round, it was decided that the king stick would go to her regardless. As the other chopsticks were being redistributed, Mimi stretched and climbed out of Michael’s lap, announcing that she had to take a bathroom break.

“You can’t wait until your turn is over?” Sora asked.

“I’ll be quick.”

She was, in fact, quick — too quick. How she’d had time to do anything more than open and close the bathroom door was anyone’s guess. Michael watched her with narrowed eyes as she made her return, visiting around the circle before she finally sat down next to him. There was a glint in her eye that spelled danger. But before Michael could quiz her, Mimi had picked up her king stick and straightened.

“Her royal highness Princess Mimi decrees —” She flourished the stick theatrically, leveling an imperious gaze on her gathered friends “— that numbers five and nine must kiss.”

Yamato stuck a finger in the air. “We already did that one. No repeats.”

“Since when?”

“Since now.”

Mimi’s lips scrunched to the side. “No, you can’t just make up rules.”

“Yamato, it’s cool.” Taichi covered up a yawn as he spoke. Many of the paty guests were flagging by this time, their Digimon partners already passed out in their laps. “I’m five. This is like, the eighty-fifth command I’ve got tonight. What’s one more kiss?”

Mimi smirked at Yamato in triumph. Yamato rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Who’s nine?” Taichi asked, blinking sleepily around the group.

At first no one answered. Michael watched heads back and forth. Number nine did not come forth.

“Aw, come on.” Mimi stuck out her lower lip. “It’s the last round! Who’s going to give up in the last round?”

No one answered. A grin splitting his lips, Taichi scratched behind his ear. “I guess whoever’s number five really doesn’t want to kiss me,” he quipped.

“Me,” mumbled Koushirou.

It took a minute for it to register that he had spoken. Then they were all looking at him at once. “What’d you say?” Taichi asked, but already the heat was climbing in his face.

Slowly Koushirou raised his chopstick: number five. “It’s me.” His dark eyes were unreadable.

Taichi licked his chapped lips. “Y-You don’t have to. It’s just a game.” He gave an awkward laugh. “Right, Mimi-chan?”

Mimi looked like she might protest, so Michael put a placating hand on her knee. She peered up at him, and sighed. “Right,” she said reluctantly.

There were no doubts in Michael’s mind that Mimi’s “bathroom break” had been more about sneaking a peek at what numbers Taichi and Koushirou pulled so she could play matchmaker with her turn as king. For all her many wonderful qualities, she did have a penchant for meddling. At least, he thought, she did it mostly when she felt she could make all those involved happier, and not for vindictive purposes.

But Koushirou had yet to respond, and as the pause in the festivities stretched out longer, Taichi’s usual happy-go-lucky expression crumpled into disappointment, and then further into something like shame. He stood up, muttering something about putting the dishes in the sink.

“Koushirou,” he said before leaving, “don’t worry about it, ’kay? Honestly, it’s just a game, it’s not supposed to make you uncomfortable. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

He picked his way between Yamato and Sora to get to the door that led to the kitchen, and had just opened it when Koushirou found his voice:

“I want to.” Koushirou’s whole face was cherry red. He didn’t seem able to look anyone in the eye.

Taichi stared at him with a look like a dead fish. Koushirou raised his head, voice wavering but clearly mustering all his courage to repeat: “I want to.”

In an instant, Taichi grabbed him by the elbow and hauled him out into the hall, closing the door behind them.

Mimi turned to Michael, a smug look on her face. Michael did his best to look stern. “You shouldn’t have done that, missy.”

She had the gall to look offended. “Done what? Show them how stupid they’re both being?”

“Mimi-chan, you’re not supposed to know who has what numbers in this game,” Sora sighed. Clearly she’d noticed what Mimi was up to as well.

“Oh, like I’m the bad guy here! Haven’t we been watching them pine for each other for way too long?” Her arms flew up in a gesture of exasperation. “It’s like a soap opera! The kind where no one admits their feelings until someone’s lying half-dead on a gurney!”

“Mimi-kun,” Jou groaned.

“At least, this way, they finally have to talk it out, am I right?”

“The idea that those two will figure it out on their own does seem kinda hopeless,” Miyako put in with a shrug. Beside her, Daisuke and Takeru nodded in agreement.

Yamato pointed, rather rudely, in Mimi’s direction. “Do me a favor and don’t chase a career in relationship counseling.”

“Shortcake,” Agumon mumbled in his sleep.

After that the conversation turned to other things.

~~~~~

By the time everyone went home, it was three in the morning.

“Thanks for letting me join you guys.” Michael accepted the bag of leftover matcha cookies as he said his good-byes. “I had a lot of fun.”

“No problem,” Yamato said. “Sorry our party ruined your date night.”

“Oh, no.”

“Next year we should do something that’s actually Christmas-related,” Mimi suggested. Michael laughed.

Leaning against the door jamb, Yamato quirked his brow at her. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Snowball fight?”

“Right, because it snows in December in Tokyo so often.”

“Well, baking cookies or… I don’t know, Michael, what’s a good Christmas activity?”

Michael blinked. “Uh… maybe Christmas carols?”

“Oh, that’s a good one! Yamato-san can play the guitar! And I can sing!”

“And the rest of us?” Sora asked, smiling.

“Eh, you can play the spoons.”

“I’ll spend next year practicing.”

Mimi grinned, and Michael tightened his grip around her shoulders. “Are Taichi-san and Koushirou-kun not going to come say good-bye?” Mimi asked.

“I’ll ask.” Yamato stuck his head into the adjacent room. “Mimi wants to know if you’re going to say good-bye.”

“Bye, Mimi,” Taichi’s voice shouted.

“See you,” Koushirou added. Neither seemed about to leave the position Mimi had last seen them, leaning side-bye-side against the fridge, Koushirou explaining some new MMORPG he was into and Taichi stealing every chance he could to plant kisses on the top of his head. She allowed herself a secret grin. Alright, so maybe her meddling had been out of line. But who was going to complain at this point?

Sora was planning to spend the night (chances were Koushirou would stay over too). Mimi and Michael were the last to leave, cradling Palmon and Betamon in their arms as their partners slept away. In the elevator, Michael bent over and kissed Mimi’s forehead.

“What was that for?” she asked, eyes sparkling.

He shrugged one shoulder. “Just because.”

“I like that reason.” They reached the first floor. “I’d return the sentiment but you’re rather taller than me.”

“Another time, then.”

“Tomorrow?”

“If you so desire.”

“I do so desire.” Her arms were full of Palmon so she couldn’t hold his hand, but she walked as closely as she could, bumping shoulders every other step. “I hope you had fun tonight.”

“Oh, I did. Your friends are a riot. And Betamon loved the chance to spend time with your partners.”

“I think he loved the food, mostly.”

“That too.”

The road they were on was well-lit with street lamps and fluorescent signs. Even at this hour, there were a fair number of cars rolling by. Michael wondered if Tokyo ever slept. New York City never got any true silence either, he reflected. Maybe, for that reason, he liked that he and Mimi could walk home together like this, not saying a word. Just being together.

They reached her apartment. “I’m not sure if I should invite you up,” she said. “Seems like a waste since you booked a hotel and all.”

“I’ll go to the hotel tonight. We can… talk tomorrow.” He chewed his lip a moment. “I noticed you guys didn’t exchange gifts.”

“Oh, yeah, we don’t do that so much on Christmas here.”

“Well, I brought you something, but I think I’ll give it to you tomorrow.” His heart thumped in his chest.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have! I don’t have anything for you.” She looked crestfallen for a half a second. Then she pumped her fist. “Come early tomorrow, I’ll make you breakfast!”

“Alright.” His throat felt dry. “Tomorrow, then.”

“It’s a date. Good-night, Michael.”

“Good-night, Mimi…”

Feelings of elation mixed with fear as he walked to the hotel alone. Love, he figured, was like that — the very height of emotion. More than any other earthly thing capable of creation or destruction and difficult to predict which. He fingered the little velvet box that had remained in his coat pocket all evening. Tomorrow — he’d wait until tomorrow. He’d wait a hundred years for love, and tomorrow, he’d make sure she knew it.

[luciisthebest]

Hunted

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: The reader is hunted by a Leviathan hellbent on her death. When it finally has her cornered their final showdown begins.

Warnings: Angst, language, violence, fighting, torture, mentions of blood, major character death.

Word Count: 2,186

A/N: Warning this piece is a mess. I wrote it while I was sick and I swear my brain was in lala land. I’m too lazy to rewrite it but I apologize ahead of time for any typos I missed or anything else. Anyways don't hate it too much and feedback is always appreciated.

“Come out come out wherever you are.” A cold voice echoed through out the forest. “I know you're here.”

You tightly griped your knife as you stood hidden in the shadows. You knew it would always come down to this. Just you and him.

“As much as I have enjoyed our little game of hide and seek I find myself growing tired of this.” His voice was closer now. “You know how this is going to end. It was always meant to end like this.”

Your breathing began to accelerate as you heard his footsteps. You could hear twigs snapping and leaves crunching under his feet as he moved closer.

“I can hear your heart racing. Are you afraid of death little hunter?” He chuckled.

You backed up against the tree trunk, trying to blend in. It was well past midnight and the entire forest was blanketed in darkness. The forest itself was unnaturally silent. It was as if all the creatures living there could sense the evil that had descended upon their home.

You didn't have many options. Hiding probably wouldn't work but you could never out run him. Your one knife could kill him but your chances of actually being able to accomplish that were slim to none. Most likely you weren't going to be walking out of this forest. You didn't regret your life. Sure some pretty terrible things had happened to you, but some pretty amazing things had happened to you as well. Your only regret was that you hadn't been able to tell Sam you loved him one last time. Most likely he was searching for you right now but you probably would never see him again.

“You know you could have made this so much easier for the both of us.”

As he spoke you watched him walk into the clearing. He couldn't see you from your hiding place but he seemed to know you were near.

A moment of complete silence fell. It was as if the entire forest was holding its breath. Waiting. Any moment he would strike and chaos would descend. Looking down at your blade you smirked. If you were going to go out you were going out fighting. Shifting your weight slightly a twig snapped under you foot.

The monster spun around and his eyes locked onto you, a cruel smile broke across his face.  “Pretty little hunter.” He hissed and you stepped back, cringing at the monster that wore the face of the man you loved.

“Well let's do this. I don't have all night.” You took up a defense position waiting for his attack.

“Now that's no way to greet your one true love.” He pretended to look hurt.

“You're not Sam.” You spit as you began to circle around him. “You may look exactly like him but you're not him.”

“That's not what you said a few days ago. If I recall you were quite happy to see me.” He leered at you.

Nausea burned in the back of your throat. You had known that there was a pair of Leviathans out there that looked identical to Sam and Dean but you had never thought to make sure that the two men that had walked through the motel door were actually your Sam and Dean. Instead you threw yourself at what you thought was Sam just glad that he was back. Before Sam left on the case you had a massive fight it hadn't occurred to you that he had returned several days early. I took just one kiss for you to realize something was wrong but by then it was too late. In a moment of luck you had manage to escape their grasp but since then they had hunted you. “I may not be able to kill you now but I can die knowing Sam and Dean will tear you apart and send you straight back to Purgatory.”

“Doubtful. See I'm betting when Sam sees your pretty broken body it'll break him.” An evil gleam entered his eyes.

“Promises, promises.” You lunged forward swinging your blade down towards his neck. The Leviathan raised his arm blocking your attack. That didn't take away the small bit of satisfaction you received as your blade sliced into his arm. An inhuman shriek flew from his lips as blood sprayed everywhere. “Please don't do the whole Leviathan face thingy. It's so gross when you guys do that.” You spun away from him as he lunged at you.

“I only save that for special occasions.” He kicked towards your midsection but you quickly blocked it. “I want you to suffer and die slowly.”

“Wow I think my feelings might actually be hurt.” You flew at him, your knife raised. He seemed to expect your attack and simply sidestepped allowing you to pass by.

“What can I say? I want you to feel even single bone breaking and when I finally grant you death I want to see the light go out of your eyes.”

A shiver raced up your spine. He wasn't Sam but hearing those words in Sam’s voice freaked you out. “What's with bad guys always blabbering on and revealing their plans?”

The Leviathan snickered as you began to circle him. His eyes watched you like a hawk. “And what's with you humans always interfering in our business?”

“Eh we're a nosey bunch.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

“We'll kill each and every one of you. There will be nothing left of your kind when we're done.” He lunged at you again. You hadn't anticipated his move allowing him to get a hold of your arm. “Game over.”

“I think not.” You hissed as you plunged your knife into his hand. The Leviathan didn't react. It was as if you hadn't stabbed him at all. Pulling you knife back you plunged it into his arm. And again he didn't react. “Well shit.”

“Playtime’s over.” He picked you up and threw you aside. Your body went crashing into a nearby tree knocking you senseless. Stumbling to your feet, you tried to regain your footing. But within seconds the Leviathan was upon you again. “I told you every single bone. Which one should we start with?” His eyes raked over you. “Ah yes this will do nicely.” He grabbed your wrist halting your movements. With a swift twist and a loud pop pain ran up your arm nearly bringing you to your knees. Your hand hung limply from your arm and you knew it had been broken. “What next?” A malicious gleam entered his eyes. A swift kick to your ribs told you what he wanted. Kick after kick came and you felt your ribs begin to buckle.

“Y/N?” Sam’s voice came from the distance. You twisted away from the monster’s foot. Had you really heard Sam or was it some crazy auditory hallucination? “Y/N?” His voice was louder this time drawing the attention of the Leviathan.

“Well it looks like lover boy is far more resilient than I expected.” His voice was tight with anger.

You smirked up at him. “I'd highly recommend that you leave now. But then again I'm a lowly human and have no clue what I'm talking about.” Your words came out in gasps as pain radiated from your ribs.

The Leviathan let out a roar of anger shaking the forest around you. “I will finish this.” He hissed grabbing your hair and pulling you up by it.

You just needed a little more time. Struggling against his hold, you ignored the pain rippling through your body and began kicking at him. Strike after strike rained down upon him and it didn't seem to be doing anything.

“You've had your fun,” he grabbed your foot stopping your next hit, “let's finish this.” A quick twisting motion and then a crack signaled the end of your right knee. Gritting your teeth, you tried to hold back the scream that was building in your chest. But when the Leviathan made quick work of your other knee you could no longer hold it back. “That's right, scream. Let your precious hunter hear you suffer.” A gleeful smile was on his face as he watched you writhe in pain.

“I'm going to kill you.”

“Not this time.”

Agonizing pain tore through you making your head spin. Black dots danced across your vision and a small part of you wanted to dive right into the cold embrace of unconsciousness. But you couldn't. You had to keep fighting. Not just for Sam or for Dean, but for yourself. You had to stay alive and survive. Your work wasn't done, there was much more for you to do. And you weren't going to let some slimy dickhead from Purgatory take that away from you. With your good hand you began to grope behind you hoping to find your fallen blade. Your fingers came across something smooth and cold to the touch and hope filled you. Grabbing it you plunged it into the monster’s chest. Surprise filled his eyes as he fell back onto the ground. The blade wouldn't kill him but it certainly could put him out of commission for sometime. Dragging yourself over to him you pulled the dagger out and plunged it back into him. A rage like you had never felt overtook your body and you began stabbing him over and over again. A strange wailing was emanating from somewhere and it took you a moment to realize it was coming from you. It was like you were out of control. And then all that anger left you leaving you weak. Falling to the side, you stared up at the night sky listening to the sounds of Sam and Dean crashing through the forest. Within moments they would find you and this nightmare would be over.  A huge wave of dizziness swept over you as you glanced at the Leviathan laying next you. He wasn't dead but you had done some significant damage. At this point he couldn't even move let alone attack again. Resting your head back on the ground you let the dizzying darkness swallow you up.

“Y/N! Come on open your eyes.”

Cracking an eyelid open you saw the shadow of a man. “Sam?” You croaked out.

“I’m here. Please open your eyes.” His voice was a desperate plea.

It felt like your eyelids were glued together with cement. It took several tries but you finally managed to open your eyes. Hovering above you was a very worried Sam. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

“I did it I survived.”

The worry that was on Sam’s face began to fade away. “Yeah you did. God I'm so sorry, if you had died…”

“Shhhhh I'm ok.” You tried to lift your arm only to be painfully reminded that moving was a bad idea. “Well maybe not ok but I'm sure Cas can patch me up just fine.” Sam remained quiet. You could tell he was blaming himself for everything and guilt was already beginning to eat him up inside. “This isn't your fault. Don't blame yourself.”

“I should have known.” He refused to look at you.

“This isn't your fault.” You said forcfully. “We're hunters. Shit happens. It could have happened to anyone. So stop blaming yourself. I'm alive that's all that matters right now. Ok?”

“Ok.” Sam agreed quietly.

“Well now that we've got that cleared up where's Cas? Cause this whole broken body thing is really cramping my style.”

Your words made a small smile appear on Sam’s face. “I think he'll be here soon. Let me go ask Dean.” He stood up and began to walk away.

“Oh and Sam,” he froze and turned back to you, “ I lo-” before you could finish your sentence. Pain blossomed from your chest as a metal blade was shoved into your chest. Looking down, your own dagger stared back at you.

“Looks like I won't be the only one dying today.” The Leviathan let out a gleeful laugh.

“I guess not.” You hoarsely whispered as you attempted to not choke on your own blood.

“Y/N No!” Sam roared as he ran back to you but he was to late. You could already feel yourself slowly fading away. Numbness began to spread throughout your body. Oh the irony. Of course it would be your own blade that finally ended your life. Looking up at Sam, there was so much you wanted to see. But you couldn't get past the blood now flooding your mouth. Instead you drank in the sight of the man you loved. This would probably be the last time you would see him and you weren't going to waste the opportunity to memorize his face. Coldness was raiditing through your body, sleep called your name. You couldn't fight it anymore. Your eyelids grew heavier and heavier and you let out a small sigh. All you could hear was Sam crying your name over and over again. But it wasn't enough. The blissful darkness swallowed you up. Taking all the pain and sorrow away. All that was left was peace.

Tags:

@mogaruke @msimpala67 @percussiongirl2017 @tomorraw @meganwinchester1999 @ria132love @lucifer-in-leather @impala-dreamer @idreamofhazel @helvonasche @quiverhope @distinguishedqueenofbooks @faith-in-dean @docharleythegeekqueen @nanie5 @amotleyworld @abbessolute @mrsbatesmotel53 @bobbysingerismybaby @chaosinacoffeecup

[eloiseduval]

a klutzy encounter: part deux

a/n: this was written pretty quickly, so excuse any typos and the abrupt ending again thank you claire for another fun rp, this time with @nathaniel-schreave <3 happy reading!

A couple days had passed without too much excitement, thankfully. Ever since I had walked down the hallways in just a men’s shirt for plenty to see, I had been hoping to keep my head down. Although it was… thoughtful in a way for Jace to do that, it wasn’t exactly how I planned my first week at the palace to go.

It was another late night, and I found myself restless once again, but this time paired with a growling stomach. I recalled Harper heading through a door as she accompanied me to the Women’s Room taking a tray of food back to the kitchens. If I remembered correctly, I thought I could find my way there easily for a midnight snack.

Per my request, my maids had managed to make some pajama shorts with a simple sleep shirt, although the fabric was softer than any pajamas I had back home. The nightdresses they had originally made were pretty, but I found myself more comfortable in my new clothes, especially since walking through the palace in the middle of night had started to become a habit.

When I reached the first floor, I padded quietly towards where I saw Harper walk to yesterday. As I walked further down the hallway, something caught my attention. There was a door cracked open to my right, light spilling out and shining onto the marble floors. What had caught my attention was the sound of a voice singing while playing the piano.

I realized that this was the same room Quinn had shown me to when I ran into her just yesterday, the music room. Curious, I stepped over quietly and peeked through the crack into the room. My eyes widened when I saw Nate sitting in front of a piano, singing something I didn’t recognize. He looked different from when I first saw him at our introductions, less formal and more… natural. His eyes were focused as his hands glided over the keys, hair curling over his forehead and eyebrows furrowed.

Stop staring, don’t be creepy.

At that thought, I intended to back away quietly and continue on my hunt for food when I tripped, instead pushing the door open to stop my fall and bursting into the room.

“Oh jeez- I'm really sorry,” I apologized. Nate had abruptly stopped playing at my unexpected entrance and sat up straighter, placing his hands in his lap. He plastered an obvious fake smile to try and smooth over my eavesdropping, but I felt terrible. How was it that I managed to disturb at least three members of the royal family already?

“Uh... uh... hi... did I wake you?”

I wrung my hands, nervous. “No, I um- I was just heading to the kitchens for a snack and I heard you and thought you sounded good and then I meant to back away quietly when-” I sucked in a breath, stopping my rambling, “I'm really sorry.” When I got scared or too flustered I tended to ramble. This situation was no exception.

“No, no you’re good. I was just,” he waved his hands around, “just messing around.” Although he tried to play it off like my intrusion was nothing, I could tell he still felt embarrassed.

I debated whether or not I should just leave, but instead took a hesitant step forward, giving him a sheepish smile. “Well... for messing around you sounded pretty great.” And he did. Jace had been right the other day. If Nate wasn’t a prince, he would most definitely have a future as a musician.

“Thanks. I was just a little stressed and needed to calm down,” he explained, curling his lips before pointing to the piano in front of him. “Don’t you play?” With how many girls he had met, I was surprised he remembered that little detail.

I tilted my head as I walked over to the piano. “Stressed? And yes, I do, nothing too elaborate though.”

He rolled his eyes and took in a deep breath. “Just a lot of stuff on my mind and work.” He shifted over to his right on the bench and patted the now empty space next to him. “Just play what you can.”

I almost asked him what was so stressful, but instead simply sat down next to him. “Hm, okay.” I hesitantly played a few notes with my left hand to the first song that popped to mind.

“No that was good! Keep going,” he encouraged. I flashed him a grin before looking back at the keys and playing a little faster. He quickly caught on and begun to play the chords to John Lennon’s Imagine with his right hand, the other half to the song.

“Imagine there's no heaven,” I sang, nudging him with my shoulder to join me.

“It's easy if you try, no hell below us.” His voice was smooth, hitting every note every perfectly.

“Above us, only sky.” The next line we sang together, while I threw in a little harmony and smiled widely. “Imagine all the people, living for today.”

He smiled and started to sing a little more quietly, although I wasn’t sure why. “Imagine there's no countries, it isn't hard to do.”

“Nothing to kill or die for, and no religion too.” I closed my eyes, happy to be singing and a little lost in one my favorite songs. I fumbled on a few notes, but didn’t notice as I kept singing, nor did I notice that Nate had completely stopped singing, only playing along with me.

“Imagine all the people, living life in peace, you,” I sang, “You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you will join us, and the world will be as one.” I let the last note ring a little bit as I stopped playing, opening my eyes with a smile. When I looked at Nate I realized he had been watching me, not singing to listen to me instead.

“That was... amazing,” he said with a smile. He seemed almost awed, making me blush and tuck some hair behind my ear. I wasn’t embarrassed, instead pleased at his compliment and at the way he was looking at me.

“I haven't sung like that with someone in... a long time,” I admitted. Without warning, a memory suddenly flashed across my eyes. Me, sitting at a piano in my house next to a boy I didn’t want to remember, playing the same song.

“Have you played this with others?” Nate joked, putting a hand to his heart acting wounded. His voice brought me back to the present, which he had no idea I was incredibly grateful for.

I laughed, relieved my voice sounded normal. “Sorry to disappoint, your highness,” I joked, “Although I can safely say you're the first prince I've ever played with.”

“Well at least I have that title from you,” he conceded with a chuckle.

“I am sorry about intruding earlier, though, as fun as that was,” I apologized, looking away for a moment before turning back to him. I hated the thought of intruding on anyone’s privacy, especially his. “I know privacy can be important, especially since,” I gestured with one hand, “you have 35 new guests in your home.”

“I’ve told you that you’re good, it’s fine that you came.” He reassured, but not in any exasperated way. I took comfort in the fact that he seemed less embarrassed now than earlier.

I smiled, relieved. “Good. I was still planning on heading to the kitchens if you'd like to join me. I've heard chocolate is a pretty good stress reliever.”

“Chocolate is always good, stressed or not,” he pointed out with a grin. He then slid out of the bench and stood, offering his arm. “Let’s go.”

I stood and slipped my left hand into the crook of his arm, letting him lead the way out of the music room and down the hallway to my original destination. It felt funny to be walking in such a formal way when we were so very not formal at the moment, although I supposed it was just the manners he had been instilled with.

After walking a few moments in silence, I looked up at him and realized that he was much taller than I expected. It was only when he looked over at me and asked, “How tall did you think I was?” that I realized I had spoken aloud.

Word vomit much?

I lifted one shoulder with a small smile. “I don't have an exact number, but in my defense I've only ever seen you on tv or in magazines.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he acknowledged.

“So how are you doing with,” I waved my free hand, “everything?”

“I’m just trying my hardest,” he said with a shrug.

I nodded. “Well whenever you feel like you need a little break, I’m good for plenty of heartwarming tunes.” I looked up at him with a genuine smile. “I’ll even throw in some stellar snacks, just for you.”

“Thanks,” he said with a smile, then added, “other than chocolate, what else do you want?”

I bit my lip, trying to pinpoint what exactly I was craving when my favorite snack came to mind. “Baby carrots sound pretty good.”

He peered down at me, looking vaguely shocked before chuckling. “Baby carrots?”

I laughed at his reaction. “Hey, they’re pretty good. Paired with some ranch and you can pretty much get me to do anything.”

He laughed loudly. “Baby carrots has to be the strangest favorite food I’ve ever heard.”

“As much of a sweet tooth I am, I am a huge fan of vegetables,” I admitted with a small smile.

He rolled his eyes, still laughing. “Oh my god.”

I smiled, more at the sound of his cute laugh than his reaction, and poked his shoulder with my free hand. “Well what’s your favorite food then?”

He managed to stop laughing and think over my question, turning to me when he thought of his answer. “I like chicken.”

I let out a short laugh at his simple answer. “I guess that’s slightly more typical than mine.”

He chuckled quietly and shook his head. “Baby carrots.”

“Now you know the key to my heart,” I joked with a grin.

He smiled brightly. “Baby carrots. Got it.”

By now we had entered the large kitchens that my brother would probably have fainted at the sight of. My eyes slid across the large room, looking for the pantries. When I spotted it, I let go of Nate’s arm and walked over to open the door. I looked in each shelf carefully, making my way up to the top shelf on my tiptoes.

“Here we go,” I said when I found what I was looking for. I grabbed it and hid it behind my back, turning around to see Nate had made his way over to stand by the nearest counter.

“Now this is a very important question. A deal breaker, if you will. Ready?” I asked.

He curled his lips and hesitated, “Ooooh I’m not so sure.”

I rolled my eyes with a smile. “Can’t take the heat?”

He leaned against the counter with a smile, crossing his arms. “Just show me.”

I brought out three bars of chocolate and held them out in front of me, raising my eyebrows expectantly with a small grin. “Milk, dark, or white chocolate. Which one?”

He rolled his head back in disbelief. “Seriously? Hmmm the… milk,” he decided, immediately making a worried expression at his choice. I found it amusing that although he found my question slightly ridiculous, he still took my words seriously.

I pretended to be wounded. “Hey, it’s an important question!” I hopped up and sat on the counter opposite him, setting the other bars down and opening the milk chocolate one. “And you answered correctly, by the way.” I broke off and held out a piece of the chocolate.

He looked relieved, making me smile to myself. “Good.”

“Why would this be a deal breaker?” he asked, taking the piece I offered him.

I laughed. “I was mostly kidding. Except if you said white. White is,” I wrinkled my nose, “not good chocolate.”

“White is good in cookies,” he defended, reaching over to take another piece.

I made a conceding expression, tilting my head slightly. “I’ll give you that one.” I broke off a piece for myself and almost sighed happily as the chocolate melted over my tongue.

He raised his eyebrows with an “I got you” look. “I’m right.”

I pursed my lips, finishing the chocolate before I spoke. “Only a little bit.”

He rolled his eyes lightheartedly. “Whatever.”

I put my hands on either side of me on the counter, leaning forward slightly with a smile. “I stand firm in my opinion.”

He hopped up and sat on the counter opposite me, mirroring my movements. “And I stand with mine.” Although his expression was serious, I could see a twinkle in his eyes, so I narrowed my eyes playfully and stared him down. He didn’t last, instead crossing his arms and leaning back.

“Other than your dying love for milk chocolate and baby carrots, what else do you like?” I leaned back as well, mulling over my answer.

“Food wise? Quesadillas, mashed potatoes, broccoli. That’s what comes to mind right now at least,” I answered, tapping my fingers against the counter.

“Mashed potatoes are the best, you need to have the ones here. No one can make them better than the chefs here.” Even though I had grown up with my brother’s practically gourmet mashed potatoes, I had a feeling that the palace’s food was somehow even better, something Alex would readily agree with.

I made an enthusiastic expression at his suggestion. “That sounds delicious, I'm already in love with the palace food. And slightly jealous that you've been able to eat here your entire life.”

“Yeah, I’ve been fed well,” he observed, “I’ll ask for potatoes for tomorrow night’s dinner. Just so you can try them.” Then added with a wink, “With baby carrots and chicken.”

His promise was genuinely thoughtful, making a fluttery feeling appear in the pit of my stomach and evoking a happy laugh from me.

“I'm already looking forward to it,” I said, grinning widely.

“I’ll be the best you’ll ever had,” he declared with a smile.

My grin turned a little softer at the sight of his wide grin. “I don't doubt it.”

“Didn’t you say you had siblings?” he asked, interested.

I nodded. “Alex, my older brother, and my little sister Giselle. Though Alex is married, and his wife is essentially a pseudo sister.”

“So you’re a middle child?”

I gave a small laugh. “Yes, the dreaded middle child”

“Lucky you,” he said with a laugh.

I crossed my arms, intrigued by his comment. “Being the next king of Illéa is definitely an intimidating inheritance.”

“Yeah it is,” he shrugged, “but I enjoy doing it.”

I tilted my head to one side. “So, what's a normal day like for you? As a prince, at least. I've always been curious.”

“I have to dress at least decent every day, which kinda sucks. But it’s a lot of sitting in meetings and listening to others talk about problems in Illéa as well as international ones. Meeting leaders of other countries, and having no idea what they’re saying. Being told what I’m doing wrong, but sometimes right,” he shrugged again, “that’s about it.” While he spoke I listened attentively, not only to his words, but also noting how he gestured with his hands the whole time he spoke

“Meeting international leaders sounds fascinating, even with the language barrier.” I lifted one corner of my mouth in a small smile. “Even just sitting in on a meeting, talking about how to improve Illéa, you can do so much for your people.”

“That’s my goal, I love my country and I want it to succeed and be happy.” I smiled at that.

“If we weren’t a monarchy, you’d have my vote.”

“Thanks,” he said with a smile, “would you ever want to go into politics?

I looked away for a moment, focusing on the counter next to his hand trying to form my answer before looking back at him. “It wasn't something I seriously considered until I started volunteering with charities. Seeing how much they needed help,” I gestured with my hands to emphasize my point, “I wanted to be in a position where I could do more for them. It was partially why I put my name in for the Selection, actually. So my answer would be a maybe

“Partially?,” he laughed with a smirk. “But it does feel good making people happy and doing the right thing.”

“You may have also been a reason,” I lifted a shoulder with a giggle, “And yes it really does.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Oh I am a reason.”

I shook my head with a smile. “If you would like to talk about it then yes, you were definitely a reason.”

I wasn’t sure if my eyes were playing tricks me, but it suddenly looked like his cheeks had turned slightly pink. “Well that makes me feel even better,” he admitted with a smile.

He is blushing, I realized with a jolt, that fluttery feeling intensifying.

I grinned at him, pleased. “If I had known it was this easy to make you blush I would have started complimenting you a long time ago.”

His cheeks turned even pinker. “I’m not blushing, what are you talking about.”

Without thinking, I reached out and brushed a fingertip against one of his cheeks, laughing. “Oh those are definitely some red cheeks I see.”

Somehow, he became even more flustered, gently moving my hand, “No they aren’t.” He was still smiling, but I could tell he was embarrassed so I took my hand back.

“Okay okay, I'm sorry,” I said with a smile.

Inside, I was kicking myself. I had no idea what possessed me to reach out and touch his cheek. He didn’t seem particularly upset, thankfully. In the past I had never been so forward with someone, and I wondered why it was different with him. I blamed it on the funny feeling in my stomach.

“It’s fine, um it’s getting late you you should get some sleep.” The pink in his cheeks gradually disappeared as he looked at me, and I nodded at his words.

“We both should,” I said, hopping down from the counter.

“Can I walk you to your room?” he asked, following my lead and hopping down from the counter.

“Of course.”

On our way out of the kitchens, I put the two remaining candy bars away and we made our way back through what was quickly becoming a familiar hallway. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue. But I found it encouraging that he simply just wanted to know more about me, considering what I had done just a few minutes ago.

“Navy blue. Yours?”

He looked over at me. “Wait seriously?

I nodded. “Why?”

“It’s mine too, but people normally just say like blue, I’ve never heard someone else say navy blue.”

I stared back at him, shocked. “Really? I've never heard someone else say that either.”

“Wow, look at us,” he remarked with a smile.

I grinned. “Any other questions for me?”

“Do you have any questions for me?” He shot the question back, and I could hear the playful sass in his voice, making me laugh.

“Hm,” I bit my lip, choosing my question carefully. “What's your favorite thing to do on a day off?”

He laughed. “Either sleep or sneak out with Jace, what about you?”

“Either do absolutely nothing and lay around my house all day, or go to the recording studio and listen in on some sessions.” Although those days had been few and far between, I always looked forward to those days with no responsibilities, even if they didn’t last for very long.

“That sounds amazing. Just to have to do nothing. Nobody telling you what you do to do or where to go.” He looked so wistful at the notion that I wondered when was the last time he had an actual break.

I smiled gently at him. “Maybe in the future you can make it law to have just one day every single year where you do absolutely nothing. Just one, to keep it reasonable.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’ll never happen. There always so much going on.”

I pursed my lips. “I can see why. Maybe just an afternoon then?” I asked as we walked up the stairs to the second floor.

“Well some days I don’t have to work all day, those are the best. But I still have to.”

I nodded. “Life of a royal never ends, apparently.”

“Nope never,” he gave me a small smile. Once we reached the top of the stairs, we didn’t have very far to go to reach the door to my room. I turned to face him and clasped my hands behind my back, flashing him a happy smile.

“Well I had a really fun time.”

“I did too!” he exclaimed with a smile, “oh and dinner will be extra amazing tomorrow I promise.”

I laughed at that. “I’m counting on it.” I opened the door to my room and stepped inside slightly.

“Sleep well,” he waved.

I waved back, “You too.” We smiled at each other one last time before I shut the door. Similar to just a couple days before, I leaned against the door with a sigh, although this time for an entirely different reason. I wasn’t sure what to make of our unexpected time together, but I knew that the fluttery feeling hadn’t gone away as I stepped away from the door and climbed into bed.

The next evening, Nate was true to his word. Before me on a dinner plate was a magnificent looking dinner of grilled chicken paired with mashed potatoes and baby carrots. He caught my eye right before I took my first few bites, and when I tasted one of the best meals I had ever had, I flashed him a wide grin.

He didn’t disappoint when he easily returned my smile, and the flutter in my stomach returned, unbridled and in full force.

[lindseyluvsdrag]

It Takes Two Ch. 7

Ignore any typos :)

Unsure of what he'd see when he passed that threshold, Matt said a silent prayer, held his breath and entered.

---

His wife was laid on her side fiddling with a loose piece of thread that was created after her blanket had obviously been snagged on something sharp. She turned to look at him. With the raspy voice that she greeted him with and the dark circles under her eyes, Matt knew that the woman was clearly exhausted. He pulled up the chair next to her bed and grabbed both of the woman's hands, being careful of her IV.

“Are you okay? Is the...is Lord Tater…” After the nightmare he'd had, Matt could hardly bring himself to ask the question.

“The baby is fine...she is fine.”

“Sh-she?” Matt stammered, verbally tripping on his own excitement.

“Yeahhh, I know we wanted another surprise but they just blurted it out and-”

“No, no, this is amazing!” Matt squealed as he kissed the backs of Violet's hands. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too. But I'm still mad at you.”

Matt frowned. “I know. I'm really sorry. Had I not been in such a rush, I would've stopped and gotten all of the chocolates and roses.”

“Matthew, I don't want chocolates and roses. I want to be able to trust that you aren't doing sneaky stuff behind my back.”

“Oh, this is the first and last time,” Matt said honestly. “The only reason I was feeding you more calories was to selfishly make you curvier. I wanted you to have a fat ass.”

“But a fat ass means nothing if I'm in the hospital,” she retorted.

The man's head hung low. “Do you know why you're in here? What was wrong? Why were you bleeding?”

Violet sighed. “So I guess I have mild preeclampsia and the longer I would've waited, the worse it would've been. But they also think that I had a 'placental abruption’ which is why I was bleeding.”

Matt frowned. “What's that?”

“It's when the placenta detaches from the uterus.”

He cringed.

“Yeah, that's what I did when they told me...and cried.”

Matt felt like shit. “So what do we have to do to fix it?”

“They’re going to consistently monitor the baby while I participated in ‘bed rest, no stress’.”

“So I guess I should probably leave?”

“Nooo, I missed you,” Violet admitted.

“I missed you more,” he said. “Single parenting is no joke.”

She laughed. “Where is my pumpkin?”

“Sleeping in the lobby with Shea.”

“Aww, I wanna see her.”

“She has an epic punishment coming when she wakes up.”

“Ooo, what'd she do?”

*5 minutes later*

“You were stuck in the tunnel at Chuck E. Cheese?!”

Matt nodded.

Violet did her best to suppress her laughter, but she couldn't contain the snort that bellowed out.

“Babe! It's not funnyyyy. My shoulder still really hurts.”

“Aww, I'm sorry, honeybun. I'll give Clark a piece of my mind when she wakes up.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“Andddd I'll tell her about the birds and the bees.”

Matt nearly fainted. “What?!”

“Well, if she's already flirting with boys, she needs to know right?”

“No! She's not leaving that house until she's 45! I'll make her wear a backpack full up bricks so that she develops a hunchback, then she can go.”

“Someone will still find her attractive with a hunchback, Matthew.”

“Ughhh. Then I'll have her teeth removed and- oh God, oh God. Some pervs are into that too! This is stressful.”

Violet exhaled. “We can't protect her forever.”

Matt scowled. “Watch me.”

Violet winced.

“What's wrong?” her husband asked.

“She's kicking and it hurts like hell.”

Matt's eyes grew wide. “When did she start kicking?”

“A few weeks ago actually but I think I'd gained too much weight to notice at first.”

He frowned.“Babe, I'm so sorry. What can I do to gain your forgiveness?”

Violet kicked her feet from underneath the blanket and wiggled her toes. Before she could say the word, Matt slide down and began to kiss his wife's feet.

“Nooo, Matthew,” she said through a giggle. “Massage them!”

The man obliged and began to rub her feet but it didn't help the painful kicks.

“Would you calm down?” Violet pleaded.

“Can I feel?” her husband asked.

The woman nodded so Matt climbed behind Violet onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her, placing a palm on her tummy. It was instantly responded with a kick.

“Whoaa, she's strong!” Matt exclaimed.

“She is! I'm 32 weeks and she's already 7 pounds.”

“Wasn’t Clark like 6 pounds?”

“Yes. And now this Paulina Bunyan over here is pummeling my uterus.”

“Maybe she's the next Laila Ali.”

“Well, she doesn't need to practice on me,” Violet said with a chuckle. “This is worse than Clark's kicks.”

Matt leaned down towards his wife's belly. “Hey you, stop beating on my wife.”

There wasn't any movement, but a moment later, Violet groaned. “Oh, God, I think she just rolled over.”

“Did- oh no ma'am! Did you just turn your back on me?!”

Violet cackled before wincing. “Ooo, yep she's now facing the other way and using my kidney as a punching bag.”

“How rude.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Violet replied.

Shea entered the room with Clark.

“Mommy!” the girl squealed as she rushed to Violet's side.

“Hi, baby! Whoaa, what's up with your hair?” Violet asked as she examined the tangled mess that was pulled into a ponytail.

“Daddy vacuumed it,” she chirped.

Violet gave her husband a look. “What?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Matt said defensively. “I'm not the one who deserves to be in trouble here. Why don't you tell her what you did at Chuck E. Cheese?”

Clark placed her hands on her hips. “Why don't you tell her about that bad place you took me to.”

Matt scoffed. “What bad place?”

“The daycare with all the bugs biting me!”

Violet gasped in horror. “What? Matthew, explain this.”

“Oh my God,” he groaned. “I was looking for a daycare and we stumbled on a really bad one but we didn't stay there long.”

“But you allowed my child to be bitten by fleas or whatever the hell it was!” Violet shouted. “Why were you looking at daycares anyway?”

“Because I can't work and take care of her at the same time.”

“You do it all the time!”

“Yeah, but not when she's like this! She's been so bad lately! She fights, she throws tantrums and babe, guess what, she opened my vintage Joker! And she was wouldn't even say she was sorry!”

Violet turned to Clark. “Why did you do that?” she asked in the tone that was the backbone of discipline in their household.

Clark folded her arms. “Because.”

“Because what?!” Violet demanded. “Just using the word 'because’ isn't an option, young lady! Now answer my question: why did you open your father's doll when you knew how important it was to him?”

Matt cleared his throat. “Actually, it wasn't a doll, it was-”

The raise of Violet's hand silenced the man. “I'm waiting for an answer, Clark Christine.”

The girl stomped her foot. “He wouldn't call Auntie Naomi!”

“That's no excuse to misbehave,” her mother retorted. “Now, I know your father. He tries his best to take of you and you have no right to destroy his things. So apologize to him right now.”

Clark's bottom lip began to quiver and her father felt terrible. “Vi, it's okay,” he said.

“No it isn't, Matthew. If you let her get away with that she'll think that she can get away with anything.”

The man ignored his wife and scooped his now crying daughter into his arms. “It's okayyy,” he cooed.

“You're just spoiling her! That's why she's so bad! And I'm the one who has to be the bad guy while you guys tag team me and- ughhh!” Violet groaned out in pain as she clutched her abdomen.

“Baby, are you okay?” Matt asked with overwhelming concern.

“Just get out, please,” she whimpered just as a machine began to beep.

A nurse rushed in and ordered them out of the room.

“No, I'm not leaving,” Matt replied. “It's my wife and damn baby too.”

“But you won't have a baby if you won't fucking listen,” Shea hissed. “Get out.”

Matt stormed into the lobby and nearly wore a hole into the floor with his pacing. It seemed like an eternity before someone updated him of Violet's status.

“She and the baby are fine but she doesn't want to see you.”

“What? No, I'm going in.”

The woman cut off his walking path. “Mr. Lent, this is quickly becoming a high risk pregnancy. You are stressing your wife out beyond belief and I advise you to leave her alone...for now.”

The man groaned.

“Where is she? Where is Violet?” a familiar voice panted from behind them.

When Clark turned and saw who it was, the girl let out primal screech. “Auntie Naomiiiiiiiiiiii!” Clark sprinted over into the woman's arms.

“I'm so happy to see...you,” Naomi said as she took in the appearance of Clark's hair. “We have to do something about that hair.”

Clark pouted. “No vacuums, right?”

“Um...no? Why would they- never mind. Where is your Mommy?”

The girl pointed in the direction of her mother's room.

Naomi took a step and Matt protested.

“Violet doesn't want anyone in her room. I mean, she didn't want me, what makes you think she wants you?”

“Her phone call to me about an hour ago,” Naomi said smugly.

“Bullshit! It takes 3 hours to get here from New York.”

“Hmm, good thing I happened to be in Cuba with my fiance when she called.”

Shea popped her knuckles. “Your bitch is here?”

Naomi rolled her eyes. “Define bitch.”

“The bitch that threw the bottle at me! You know exactly what bitch!”

Not wanting to be in the middle of the room when Naomi consoled her friend, Joey opted for pacing the sidewalk. But when he heard shouting, the man quickly entered the lobby and protective wrapped his arms around Naomi's waist. “Everything alright, babe?”

“Yeah,” she said smugly. “I was on my way in to see Violet when I ran into some old friends.”

“We were never friends,” Shea said. “Tell your bitch, pregnant or not, I'm still fucking her up on sight.”

“Classy,” was Naomi's sarcastic response.

Clark frowned. “You guys aren't friends? You guys need to be friends.”

“Oh, ignore us adults, Clark. We don't know what we're talking about.”

Joey made an exaggerated face. “So this is the world famous, Clark?! You're even more adorable in person.”

The girl frowned. “I'm not adorable. I'm a hero.”

Naomi laughed. “Clark this my fiance, Joey. I've told him so much about you.”

“Even my secret identity?!”

Joey nodded. “I've heard all about it. I appreciate what you do and how safe you keep the community.”

“Thank you,” Clark chirped.

“I'm gonna go in see Violet, so you can just chill out here if you want,” Naomi said to the man.

“I'll be in the car. Love you.” The couple shared a kiss.

“What the heck?!” Clark shouted. “You can't kiss unless you- wait, who is he again?”

Naomi giggled. “My fiance,” she said bashfully.

“What does that mean?!” the girl demanded.

“It means that we're going to be married.”

Clark's expression clearly showed confusion but Matt reached for her in order to intercept the hundreds of questions. She turned away.

“Noooooo, I want to stay with Auntie Naomi!”

Clark wrapped her arms tightly around the woman's neck but Naomi didn't mind being choked by the girl she'd missed so much.

“No, you're coming with me,” Matt ordered. “Naomi has no idea how to take care of you and respectfully update me at the same time.”

The woman frowned and Joey raised an eyebrow. “What's that supposed to mean, bro?”

Matt scoffed. “I'm not your 'bro’ and I said what I said to her about my damn daughter. That has nothing to do with you.”

“Just watch how you speak to her.”

“Just calm down, Mr. And Mrs. Testosterone,” Matt said before groaning. “You're going to take that the wrong way aren't you?”

“What the hell do you mean by that, dude?!” Joey shouted causing Clark to flinch and cover her ears.

“First of all, don't yell in front of my kid. Secondly, everyone has testosterone even women, I mean, my wife gets a mustache like no other but you'd never know because she bleaches it. You guys are barging on here like you own the fucking place and you're on a testosterone high or some shit.”

“Makes sense to me,” Shea added, “And if you guys still have a problem, we can handle it right here and riiii,” the pregnant woman said as she struggled to get out of her seat, “right now.”

Naomi rolled her eyes. “All I want to do is see my best friend. That's all.”

“Then that's fine. But don't upset her,” Matt warned.

“She's been my best friend for over 25 years, don't lecture me about upsetting her,” Naomi retorted before brushing past the man towards Violet's room. With Clark still in her arms, the woman slowly entered. For a split second, she thought that she'd entered the wrong room when she saw her plus sized friend, but she had to admit that the weight looked great on her.  “Hey, Vi,” she whispered.

Violet immediately burst into tears.

Naomi placed Clark on the foot of the bed and began to stroke her friend's hair as she cooed. “Ssssh, it's okay, Vi.”

“I just really fucking missed you,” she sniffled. “Like there's nobody who understands me and it sucks.”

“I missed you too,” Naomi sniffled through laughter. “I went through our old prom pictures the other day and I can't believe we thought that crop top dresses were cute.”

“Pfff, speak for yourself. My abs were great,” Violet replied as she wiped her eyes. “Where the hell were you, Naomi? I called and called but I never heard from you. Your parents said that you were fine, but it wasn't good enough for me. Like stressing about your well being is part of the reason why I'm in here.”

The statement melted Naomi's heart. It felt amazing to finally know that Violet depended on her just as much as she depended on Violet. “It's kinda funny that you say that. After you got mad at me, I sorta kinda checked myself into...Happy Smiles.”

“The psych hospital?! Oh my God, why?!”

“Because I just felt like I'd fucked up our friendship and literally nothing in this world matters as much to me than my relationship with you.”

“Ditto, bitch. Well, except my kids...but that's not even in the same category...wait... you're both like family so-ugh, just know that I love you and I'd give up my fucking arms and legs if you needed them... I have no idea when you'd ever need my arms and legs but still. Just know that I'm willing to give them up for you.”

Naomi laughed. “Don't even stress yourself about the terms of endearment. Simple fact is that you have kids now and special requirements come with that. I should've told you about Raven coming over, hell, I tell you what I have to eat everyday so withholding information has never been a problem. My main concern was not wanting you to stress. You and I both know that Raven would never hurt Clark, right?”

Violet reluctantly nodded. “But I still don't want her around my daughter.”

“And that's completely fair. I'm sorry that I allowed it to happen.”

The woman smiled. “Bitch, I fucking missed you so much.”

“I fucking missed you too!” Clark chirped as she climbed back into Naomi's arms.

“Heyyy,” Violet sternly reprimanded. “Just don't say that in front of your father.”

“Daddy doesn't like people to yell or say bad words. Auntie Naomi's boyfriend was yelling and Daddy almost beat him up,” she said with a giggle.

Violet raised an eyebrow. “Boyfriend?”

“I was getting to that part,” she said bashfully. “Do you remember Joey Esposito?”

“How could I ever forget the boy who turned me down and chased after you instead?”

“Long story short,” Naomi said as she held up her left hand, revealing the plump diamond ring that adorned it.”

Violet screeched in excitement before pausing. “Are you trying to be a bigamist?”

The woman sighed. “No. So…”

*5 minutes later*

“So you initially checked yourself into a crazy house because you missed me but you quickly realized that you actually had real deep rooted issues and with Raven lurking around, you just couldn't move forward with your life, but it just so happened that Raven had another memory lapse and has no recollection of your marriage so she had no problem signing the divorce papers and as you told your doctor your life story, she thought it'd be good to find Joey and reconnect you two and you guys essentially picked up where you left off and are now engaged?” Violet asked in one breath.

“Yes,” Naomi replied as she prepared herself for her friend's negative reaction.

Violet paused but only for a second. “I'm so happy for you, babe! But of course, I need to see and approve him before he's allowed to marry you.”

“Fair enough,” Naomi said with a chuckle. “But right now is about me and you. I really hope you can forgive me.”

“I forgave you the very next day. I just always miss youuuu. Nobody is able to calm me down like you, hell, with you around this probably would've never even happened to me. I'm a thousand pounds Naomi!”

“Oh hush, you look amazing. You have to have a little weight on you for the baby's sake.”

“Yeah, a little! Not enough for triplets!”

“Alright, alright, Vi. We can both work out and get into shape so that we can be a sexy mama and a sexy stepmama.”

“Awwww! How many kids?”

“Just one. A girl.”

“Oh my God, we're gonna have so many little princesses around us. The bun in this oven has pink frosting.”

“Aww, Vi, congratulations!”

“What's that mean?” Clark asked.

“The baby is a girl,” Naomi reiterated.

Clark wrinkled her nose. “Lord Tater Tots isn't a girl.”

“Yes, the baby is a girl, Clark. I saw her on the monitor.”

“Oh...well I don't want a sister.”

“Why not?” Violet asked.

“She'll try to be Super Lord Tater Tots and take my powers away!”

“Clark, don't be silly.”

The girl folded her arms in frustration.

Naomi decided to change the subject before a fight began to brew between the two Geminis. “So do we have any birthday plans?”

The woman and the girl's voices immediately began to overlap as they shouted out birthday ideas.

---

For the remainder of the week, Violet progressively got better and was cleared to fly home. The woman was placed on a strict diet which she was determined to follow, but the lack of sweets in her life made the woman twice as irritable. This was made evident by the fact that everything her daughter did made the woman want to scream as they battled for Matt's attention.

Clark demanded more games and teatimes in which her mother wasn't invited. Superhero dress up time usually didn't include Violet, previously because she thought it was stupid and now because she couldn't fit into the tights.

“How about we do something that includes Mommy?” Matt asked.

“Nooooo. She's brewing a villain,” was Clark's usual response which continuously earned her ‘the behavior talk’. The girl didn't seem to care, as long as her mother kept her distance whilst possessed by her future nemesis.

“Clark, why do you think that the baby is a villain?”

“Because! Look how she's making Mommy act! She took away all of my comic books so that I couldn't study them for upcoming battles!”

“No, Mommy took your comic books away be a you refused to apologize for opening my vintage Joker.”

“I did apologizeeeee,” Clark whined.

“Yeah, but after the fact though, boo. Do you understand how that made me feel? You damaged my things and you weren't even sorry about it.”

Clark sighed. “Yes. But that doesn't change the fact that Lord Tater Tots is evil.”

“Well, I can't wait until you meet her so she can change your mind.”

“Matthew!” Violet shouted from the other room. “I need help putting on my shoes!”

“Coming!” he replied as he pushed himself off of his daughter's bedroom floor.

Clark folded her arms. “When I need help putting on my shoes, you tell me that I can do it by myself but you're helping Mommy and she's a grown up!”

“Clark, you're a big girl now. And with the baby, Mommy can bend over...well she can definitely bend over, she just can't bend down to tie them.”

“That's cause she's fat,” the girl retorted.

“Hey, don't be a little jerk, okay? She gained weight for the baby.”

“She gained weight because you were switching her ice cubes with sugar cubes.”

Matt scowled. “True, but don't remind her. I'll be right back.” The man rushed out of the room and quickly found his wife panting on the edge of their bed.

“I tried, but I can't reach it.”

“I got it, babe.” Matt began to tie the running shoes. Paired with the blue sweatsuit that she wore, it made Matt raise an eyebrow. “What are you about to do?”

“Go jogging.”

Matt cackled. “I've never seen you jog in my life.”

“Don't laughhhhh. I'm determined to lose this weight.”

“Okay, then Clark and I will jog with you.”

“Awww.” Violet kissed the man before he returned to his daughter's bedroom.

“Hey, get your shoes on. We're going jogging with Mom.”

Clark made a face. “Why? Fat ladies can't run.”

Matt pursed his lips to stop himself from laughing. “Well we're about to find out now. Get your shoes.”

“I don't wanna jog with Mommy.”

“You kinda have no choice little lady. I'm going and you can't be home alone.”

“No,” she said firmly.

“If you don't come on, I'll have to stuff you into your old stroller.”

Clark folded her arms.

---

Grumpy Clark sat with her sunglasses stuck to her face with her arms folded as her legs dangled over the edge of her old stroller. Her father pushed the stroller while he paced alongside her wheezing mother.

“Come on, babe. You can do it,” Matt encouraged.

Clark blew a raspberry.

“This is...harder... than I...thought,” Violet panted.

“You're doing great so far. Keep it up and I'll buy you a smoothie.”

“Throw in...some... diamond... earrings?”

“Anything you want,” he assured.

Clark scoffed. “Why do you need earrings? We've only made it to the mailbox!”

“Shut your...filthy little mouth. We have a long driveway!” Violet retorted.

The three of them made it halfway down the block before Violet needed a break.

Clark took a loud sip of her juice box. “So is this gonna make Lord Tater Tots skinny too?”

“No, she'll stay the same size,” Matt assured. “It's not healthy for a baby to lose weight.”

“Oh, so I'll have two fat ladies in my family.” The girl sat back in her stroller and returned to sipping her juice.

“Did she just- oh no you didn't just acknowledge that I'm fat!” Violet fumed.

“Babe, come on. We don't want your heart rate to slow too much, we gotta keep moving,” Matt said.

“Oh, feel my heart! It's pounding because I'm ready to kick the wheel of this little booger’s stroller!”

“That's not very nice, Pink Pearl.”

Matt laughed so hard that he snorted.

“Why is that funny? What's a Pink Pearl?” Violet demanded.

“Um...Pink Pearl is... she's kinda-”

“Just spit it out, Matthew!”

“Pink Pearl is a super villain and terrorist in the Marvel Comics,” the man informed.

“She's also super, duper fat,” Clark added.

“So that's what you guys think of me? A fat, villainous blob?”

“No,” may replied.

“Yes,” Clark blurted.

Violet's bottom lip began to quiver before she turned on her heel and began to waddle away.

Matt groaned. “Way to go, Clark. Babe, wait,” he said as he followed after her, pushing Clark along as the girl continued to sip her juice box.

“Leave me alone, Matthew. I now know how you guys feel about me and I'm done.”

“Baby, that’s not true. I think you look so sexy with this weight on you. I think you look great.”

“You think I look like the Pink Pearl!”

“No I don't.”

“Then why'd you laugh when Clark said it?!”

The man felt guilty. “Because Clark has such obscure references I think it's amazing.”

“Yeah, okay, you think it's amazing for her to reference me as a fat bitch. Thank you my dear husband,” she sniffled. “And thank you dear daughter for being soooo loyal to me from day one. You knew that your Dad was essentially poisoning me and making me obese and yet you didn't say a damn thing and now you want to make fun of me. Just,” Violet clapped sarcastically, “thank you so much.”

“You're welcome,” Clark chirped.

Violet didn't want to give the girl the satisfaction of knowing just how much the comments were affecting her. She began to walk away again.

“Babe, please-”

“Please leave me alone!”

“I can'tttt cause then you'll give me the cold shoulder.”

The woman didn't reply.

“Babeeee.”

“You have to give her something or talk nice about her because that's the only things she likes,” Clark said. “Like her birthday.”

“Ooo, that's a good idea. Babe, I know you want an amazing party for your 30th birthday. Why don't we-”

“I'm turning 29 again,” Violet sniffled.

“Fine,” Matt said.

“And I don't want to celebrate with you guys who clearly don't care about my feelings. Naomi and I will do something.”

“Can I go?” Clark asked.

“No!” Violet exploded. “Wait, sure you can go. I'm having a vacuum cleaner party,” she said underhandedly.

“Noooooo,” the girl whined. “Vacuums are evil!”

“I'm going to have a vacuuming hair hack party in your honor,” the woman continued. “You're going.”

“No I'm not!”

“Mhmm,” Violet hummed before jogging off.

“No! Daddy, go after her!”

Matt suppressed his laughter as he slowly pushed the stroller along behind Violet.

“Faster, Dad, faster! She won't get away with this!”

“I'm not listening to youuuu,” Violet sang as she continued to pace.

Clark tossed her juice box at her mother but.missed.

“Hey,” Matt interjected. “Do you want to be grounded?”

“No, it's okay, honey,” Violet assured. “We'll just get her a handheld vacuum for her birthday.”

Clark began to cry and scream and although it was wrong to taunt her daughter to tears, it made Violet feel better. Matt knew that he should've spoken up, but he'd had enough of being caught between the ladies in his life for the day. He was glad that he because over the next few days, the arguing duo made up for it tenfold.

Matt had to convince Violet to let Clark have a party themed by something that she wasn't terrified of and he had to convince his daughter not to eat her snacks obnoxiously loud whenever her mother was having a craving.

The man didn't know the definition of exhaustion until now. He felt as if he was juggling two toddlers, one of which who demanded sexual favors on occasion. Whether it was cries over a top that no longer fit or demands of getting comic book reading privileges back, Matt took every opportunity he could to hide or take a well deserved nap in the bathroom when he claimed to be showering or taking a shit. It seemed as if the only person who wasn't giving him problems was Lord Tater Tots, and even if she was, he couldn't get too close to interact without being threatened with divorce of he didn't stop breathing so loudly. He'd kiss Violet's belly anyway before rolling onto his side and falling asleep nearly instantly.

---

Matt stifled his yawn as he carried Clark's Avengers Cake onto the patio. The man was dressed in a full Ironman get-up, including tights that Violet couldn't help but appreciate. He placed the cake on the table in front of the girl that sported a tiara and a Black Widow outfit, complete with black water guns for authenticity purposes.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Clarkkkk, happy birthday to you!” everyone sang.

“And many moreeeee!” her father dramatically added before kissing the three year old's cheek.

Clark grabbed a fistful of cake with her hand and stuffed it into her mouth while her mother sniffled as she pushed herself out of her seat and stormed off. Matt noticed the pending storm and quickly followed his wife.

The man removed his Ironman mask. “What's wrong?” he asked.

“She's eating the cake with her hands,” Violet replied in a broken voice. “One, that's disgusting and two, she insisted on getting chocolate cake when I wanted her to have something else, like, something healthy since I'm on this fucking diet. I suggested carrot and/or strawberry but she was like 'nooo I want chocolate’ just to spite me so I can't eat any. Like, if she would've gotten the carrot, at my next doctor's appointment I could've been like yes, I'm sticking to my diet. I've had a good helping of carrotsss,” Violet sobbed. “I want cake too!”

“Okay, babe. I will have someone go get you cake, okay?”

“No, I want you to get itttt.”

“Violet, I can't leave Clark's party. I'm Ironman!”

“And I'm nearly divorced!” she said hysterically before storming off.

Clark scoffed. “Mommy is being such a baby,” she said to Naomi.

“She's just hormonal,” Naomi defended.

“What’s that mean?”

“Um...the baby is making her way more emotional than normal.”

“That's because the baby is a villain,” Clark said as she licked her fingers.

“Is that so?” Naomi asked.

“Yes! She's making Mommy crazy.”

“True.”

“But that's okay. I have cakeeee.”

---

“I want cakeeee!” Violet cried, nearing hyperventilation.

“Babe, I will get you cake as soon as I can.” Matt kissed his wife's snotty lips. “Okay?”

Violet nodded. “I need you. I really need you,” she said as she pulled the man close.

---

“Daddy!” Clark shouted as she stomped through the house in her black leather boots.

Matt attempted to pull away from his half clothed wife but she secured her legs around his waist.

“Daddy, I wanna open presents!”

“Babeeee,” Violet whined.

“Daddddyyyyy!” Clark fumed.

Matt pried Violet's legs off of him.

“Matthewwww!”

“Babe, it's her birthday,” he said in attempt to reason with his wife.

“So?! She'll have another next year! I wanna fuck!”

Clark banged on the door of her parent’s bedroom. “Daddy, I want to open presents right now!”

“Clark, go away, we're busy!” her mother shouted as she pulled Matt close again but the man quickly broke away. “Babeee!” Violet whined.

Matt leaned in to whisper into the woman's ear. “You let her finish her party and I promise I'll fuck you so good that you're gonna think your birthday came early.”

Violet let out a soft whimper that let Matt know that she wanted him then and there, but she was willing to wait. “Okay,” the woman exhaled.

Matt kissed his wife before pushing himself up and rushing to the door. As soon as he opened it, the man was blasted in the face with Clark's water gun.

“Heyy, what was that for?”

“Sorry, Daddy. I thought Mommy was opening the door,” Clark admitted.

“But that's not okay eit-”

The girl pulled her father along. “Come on! Presents! Presents!”

After Violet pulled on her panties, she slowly made her way back down to the patio. She watched as her daughter went through gift after gift, showing appreciation for everything, especially the necklace from Naomi and the mini Batmobile from her father.

“Who is this from?” the girl asked as she grabbed the small pink wrapped box.

“I don't know,” Matt admitted.

“It's from me,” Violet said.

Clark inhaled sharply before pressing her ear against the box. “I don't hear any ticking so it can't be a bomb...is this a box full of scorpions?”

The woman shook her head. “Just open it and find out.”

Clark gulped and cautiously tore into the paper. When she got down to the box, she slowly lifted the lid and squealed in excitement when she saw her comic books. “Thank you, Mommy! I missed them so much!” The girl quickly went through the stack to make sure that all of her treasures were accounted for before frowning when she saw that she had one book too many. “Hey, this isn't mine.”

“It is yours,” Violet assured. “I had it made for you.” The woman waddled towards the table. “It says ‘What Big Sister Clark Does Best’.”

Clark gasped and quickly began to flip through the koala bear charactered book that represented her and her pending sister. “Is that supposed to be me and Lord Tater Tots?”

“Mhmm and this page says ‘Big sister Clark is the best. She will push you on the swing. She will share her snacks,’” Violet read as Clark stared at the pictures that depicted what her mother was saying. The woman turned the page. “Big Sister Clark will show you how to be a superhero.”

The girl gasped in excitement over the idea. “Mom, I didn't think of that! Instead of letting Lord Tater Tots be evil, I can teach her to be good like me! She doesn't have to stay evil, right Daddy?”

Matt quickly brushed away the one tear that he'd brewed. “Of course not, Clark. You'll be the best big sister and you'll teach her awesome things.”

“Yes! I will study this book and get all the help I can get before Lord Tater Tots is borned! Thank you, Mommy!” Clark stood in her chair and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck.

“You're welcome, sweetheart. I love you...even if we do fight a lot.”

“I love you more.”

“Pfff, no way little dork. I love you more.”

Clark frowned. “No! I love you more!”

“Who do you think you're yelling at?! I'm your mother, and when I tell you that I love you more you have to just accept it!”

The girl blew a raspberry. “No way.”

The shouting quickly began to overlap so Matt simply turned on his heel and rushed to the nearest bathroom in order to get a nap in.

---

Matt had been secretly planning Violet's birthday party for weeks. When he'd taken his sketchbook full of fashions he'd love to see his wife in to a local designer, the collaboration was like something out of a high-fashion sci-fi magazine.

Violet excitedly sat in the front row with her friends as the show dedicated to her commenced. She told her husband that she'd happily wear any of his designs but only Naomi knew the truth of how the woman would only sport the low cut gown silver gown that was clearly inspired by Storm.

“Oh just wait until I get my old body back,” Violet said.

“You like them, babe?” Matt asked from a few seats down.

“Oh my God, are you kidding? They're all so stunning they should be featured in Girly Magazine!”

The man's smile was smug as he turned his attention back to the catwalk.

Naomi gave her friend a nudge. “You're terrible,” she whispered.

“I know,” Violet admitted before taking a sip of her non-alcoholic beverage. “But he's so sweet and he has good dick so I have to keep his ego inflated so he can keep me happy.”

“And pregnant,” her friend added.

“Oh hell no, this little bitch will be the last one. I swear I'll tie my own tubes if I have to.”

Naomi laughed. “Good luck.”

Just then, a text came through to Violet's phone. Even though she'd deleted the contact, she recognized the number as Raven's.

I know we aren't as close as we used to be, but just know that I love you with all of my heart. You are beautiful inside and out and you have an unmatched confidence level that I one day aspire to have. I went about my life the wrong way. There's a famous saying that goes 'if you can't love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?’ and all these years, I've been trying to love people when I don't even know who Raven is. I'm on a journey to find her and I'm beginning to love her more and more each day. I appreciate everything that you ever did for me and one day, I hope that you, Naomi and I can he the fashion Musketeers again. I love you. Happy birthday.

Violet's smile was soft as she read the message.

“Whatcha smiling at?” Naomi asked.

Violet showed her and the other woman quickly read it and shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe in the fourth installment? It Takes Three, anyone?”

“Huh?” Naomi asked, clearly confused.

“Nothing.” Violet chuckled to herself at the inside joke before turning her attention back to the show.

---

*Some long ass time later*

“I love you,” Matt whispered against his wife's lips as they cuddled.

“I love you too.”

“You know, we've yet to discuss baby names,” he said. “I don't need you coming at me with your IV because you hate another name that I've picked.”

“Heyyy, I ended up loving Clark.”

“The girl or the name?”

“Umm...both...kinda.”

The couple laughed.

“Go get some popcorn and we'll discuss names.”

“Okay.”

Matt stole a quick kiss before pushing himself off of the bed and making his way to the kitchen. He popped a bag of sweet and salty kettle corn before returning to the room he shared with his wife. He flopped onto the bed and grimaced at the warm wetness that was soaking their mattress. 

“Did you wet the bed?” he asked.

Violet, who was still trying to figure out what was happening, continued to stare at her crotch. “Matthew...I think it's hammer time.”

“It's hammer time?! Oh God, oh God.” In his attempt to run and help the woman, Matt slipped and face planted against the hardwood, effectively splitting the bridge of his nose. By the time they made it to the hospital, the emergency staff was more helpful to Matt than they were to the woman going into labor.

After six hours, the woman was experiencing all kinds of contractions, but she wasn't near dilated enough to push. As Matt massaged her back, a flurry of texts came into his phone.

“Oh wow, Shea just gave birth.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Violet shouted. “She's not even 36 weeks yet. Why does she get to have relief and I don'tttt,” she sobbed.

“Babe, you're almost there. The baby will be out any minute now.” He kissed her head. “Just hang in there.”

“Is her baby okay?”

“Yeah, he's good weight and he apparently looks just like Danny so that shut down the infidelity issues.”

“Good,” she groaned. “What's his name?”

“They haven't given him a name yet.”

Violet groaned again as another contraction hit her. “Doctor, get this fucking baby out of me now!”

It took another six hours before Violet was allowed to curse Matt out and nearly break every bone in his hand as she pushed the nine pound baby out of her vagina. “God, I fucking hate you! You're never touching me again!” Violet hissed at her husband while the baby began to cry.

“It's a boy!” the doctor announced.

“What?!” both parents shouted collectively.

The man handed Matt the scissors and directed him to cut the cord which he mindlessly did as he tried to wrap his mind around having a son. The doctor toweled the baby off and placed him into Violet's arms.

“No, no, no,” she said in disbelief. “The doctor in the Bahamas said it was a girl and I saw no penis on that monitor!”

“Pfff, Bahamian hospitals are so outdated when it comes to their equipment. The screen was probably so grainy that they could've told you that you were having twins and you would've believed it.”

Violet sighed. “Well, we're 0 for 2 in the gender guessing department,” she said to her husband as she handed the baby to him.

Matt, who was now bawling, accepted the baby into his arms. “But we have a sonnn. A cute bald, squishy son. I feel like Mufasa right now or something.”

Violet could only muster up the strength to smile as the exhaustion of twelve hours of labor finally overwhelmed her.

“Welcome to the world, Lord Tater Tots,” Matt whispered to the chubby cheeked newborn.

<<<    >>>

[thedenfantasyleague]

The Den Fantasy League Recap: Week 7

Fellas,

Don’t let the return of the NBA distract you from your Fantasy lineup. Let’s get to the recap.

El Commish v. Team Timshel

In our first of the “Anything Can Happen on a Monday Night” matchups, Mike and I battled to stay alive in the middle of the pack. Looking at our matchup, both of our teams very much underperformed. Mike only had four players in double figures in guys like Dak (20.6), Gurley (11.4), Buffalo D (10), and J-Tuck (12). Other than that, a lot left to be desired. His next highest scorer was 6.9 in Melvin who fumbled twice at the goal line and that was about it. It’ll be interesting to see if Sanu’s stock improves with his move to NE. Speaking of NE, their defense is easily my best player and basically won my matchup for me this week. Other than that, only Derek Henry (16.8) scored in double figures. Tevin played in a monsoon, Trav struggled without Mahomes, and Juuls had some bad drops. Then there’s Matty Ice. The Falcons had been the bane of my existence this whole season but they were big stat-padders until this past weekend. Matty has a bum ankle and left the game with 2.6 points. However, my team rallied and got the W. That’s all we can ask for.

Professor Remus Lupin v. Wilmore Cinderella

The question was: how would Gabe fare with one of his best players out? The answer, not bad. Gabe has been on a tear since the “kurses” bullied him into a name change. Gabe was led by big games from Goff (25), Zeke (20.7), SF D (13) and Zane (10). The rest of his team came up short but, lucky for him, he was playing a manager who just can’t catch a break. JP tried to make it a game with a massive game from Kirk (29.2), Thomas (13.1), Diggs (14.2), and Goedert (10.9). He did leave some points on his bench (because he keeps playing Demarcus Robinson who hasn’t had double figures since week three) and neither of his RBs (including his beloved James White) showed up. Sometimes you have a string of bad luck in Fantasy, sometimes you just suck as a Fantasy player. It’s up for JP to make that final decision on who he is.

Debbie Rowe v. VP

Another matchup, another MNF deciding factor. Jake came into this week as one of the leagues hottest teams and he was looking to continue his success into Week 7. Unfortunately for him, he was without his prized heifer McCaffrey and his team didn’t rally to produce a W this week. Jake was left wanting more with games from Deshaun, Cooper, and Fells. He did have good games from Aaron Jones (despite Rodgers’s selfishness), Lockett, Dorsett, Saints D, and Butt-kicker. Jake was hoping that Dorsett could come through on MNF but he came up just short. Vinny had a game he needed and he got it with Jake’s best player on a bye. Vinny was led by big games from Brisket, DeAndre, Hooper, and a monster game from the Jags against the Bengals (they suck). I for one was shocked. No way did I think Jake would lose another game. Oh well!

The Perfect Ten v. Kalabar’s Revenge 

In the battle of the two Kalmia loft roomies, we saw another game come down to MNF. G’s week came to a rough start with the injury to his prized player Mahomes. From there, nothing really got better. Yes, he did have good games from guys like Royce, A-Rob, Greg the Leg, and a huge game from the Rams D but not much after that. He had -0.1 from his newly acquired back, 3.4 from the returning Gallup, and disappointing outings from both Kittle and Le’Veon. E also contributed to the week of the bad QBs and some disappointing games from guys like Ingram, Ridley, Seahawks D, and -1 from his kicker. E’s success was found in four big games from the rest of his squad. E had a big Sunday from Waller and Latavius but again, it came down to Monday night. Sony had the opportunity but would he deliver after being vultured prior? He delivered. Despite only 42 yards rushing and -8 yards receiving, Sony found his success at the goal line three times on Monday night. He’s lucky he didn’t lose because can you imagine how sad it would be to lose with scores of 18.5 (Ekeler), 33.3 (Jones), 28.6 (Stafford), and 33 (Edmonds)?

Hank Mardukas v. Virg. Gardening Minmaxers

Two NKY boys enter, only one could be victorious. Scott and his bench didn’t put up much this week but it was enough to beat Al. He was led by big games from his top three Lamar (23.3), Dalvin (26.9), and Jacobs (13.4) which was enough to overcome sad games from literally everyone else. Please note that Scott’s bench only amassed 6.8 points. Al, whose team was projected a respectable 100 points, saw his team reach 69.1 on the week. Al had one of our lower scoring games as he only had two players in double figures in Josh Allen (21.3) and Lambo (13). Al’s team looked terrible this week: Cincy sucks, Thielen got hurt, and his defense couldn’t even muster up the 4.9 points it was projected. The worst part is that DJ took the first carry of the game for two yards and didn’t see the field again. Al instead saw the aforementioned Edmonds have the game of his life. Scott finds himself at 5-2 and Al sits at a struggling 1-6.

Fire Jarn v. Stick With Us PVO

This was the game that everyone was watching and boy did it live up to the hype. Over the years, no matter who was good and who was bad, Dylan always found a way to beat Robbie. Would that change going into our fourth fantasy year? No. Absolutely not. Dylan, whose team had been experiencing highs and lows, came out with a respectable 100.4 finish despite only having two players hit their projections (TY, 13.4 and Chiefs D, 23). Yes, there were some other players who didn’t meet their projections and still had good weeks but the important thing is that Dylan won. Now to the collapse we were all waiting for. Only two of Robbie’s players met their projections this week and, speaking of projections, his team missed theirs by 40.3 POINTS! No, there was not a typo: 40.3 POINTS! How did Rob get here? It started with Alvin missing this week because of injury and Godwin having a bye, then things took a turn for the worse. Devonta got thrown out for fighting a dude double his size, Kerryon got hurt, and he had to watch Aaron Rodgers (43.8) get almost the equivalent to his team’s points (46) all while he was sitting on his bench. Is this loss indicative of Robbie’s season thus far? No. Is this further proof that Dylan owns Rob? Yes. Oh and one last thing, Rob. A Tudor always pays his debts, right? Dylan’s Venmo is @dylantighe for that $1000 you owe him.

The Biggest Loser

Who else would we invite on other than Rubbie Tudor?

Good luck everyone and, as always, set your lineups accordingly. 

Your beloved Commissioner, 

Jared R. Mosqueda

[kwrites2222]

When You’re Gone (Cullen x Lavellan short fic)

Wee drabble I wrote when I couldn’t sleep last night, starring my rogue Inquisitor Johannah “Jo” Lavellan, General Uptight, and Alistair the cat. Screen-grab of Jo at the end.

Also, the brilliant @spinninglenny tagged me FOREVER ago about posting something for Fluffy Headcanon Day, and it’s taken me this long to do this. I hope this fluffs up your day!!

Fluffy hugs to all of my 24 followers and all you amazing Tumblr-er’s out there. Fluff is amazing.

Any typos courtesy of having written the majority of this on my phone.

Hope you enjoy!

When You’re Gone

That cat was really starting to get on his nerves. More often than not, when Cullen crept up to Jo’s quarters in the middle of the night, he found her and that cat snuggling in bed, her arm draped over it, its head nuzzled into her neck, and an undeniable smirk on its face. It didn’t move as Cullen had eased his way into bed beside Jo, but he swore that, even in the darkness, he could make out the annoyed look the cat was giving him.

She had brought it back with her from the Hinterlands several months ago, offering no explanation for its sudden presence. He’d had to ask Solas about it, and the mage had just shrugged and said, “It found her.”

Cullen believed it: animals seemed to flock to her. It was like she was the living embodiment of some of the tales he’d heard of elves in his youth: animals ran to her after hearing her song. The cat was just another in the growing menagerie of Skyhold, but it was undeniably her favourite. The cat and the wolf pup she’d rescued (the rescue part was verified by Dorian: Cullen had been sure that she’d kidnapped it) followed her around like disciples, and she cooed over both of them like children, but it was the cat that got to sleep in her bed. It was the cat who growled at him frequently in surprise and over-protectiveness as he tried to slip into bed next to his love in the middle of the night, and - he was certain - it was the cat who’d left droppings right next to his desk on more than one occasion. He never thought he’d get into a pissing match over Jo with a cat… Solas, maybe, but a cat?

“His name is Alistair,” Jo had said defensively after Cullen had threatened to kick the thing across the courtyard one day. She’d scooped the animal up in her arms and briskly walked away from him, the little hell-raiser staring at him over her shoulder. Cullen was certain it had been taunting him.

And then there was the name! As if it wasn’t enough to be blatantly reminded of her well-known crush on the King of Ferelden every time she called that blasted creature, the fur-ball actually seemed to know his name and respond to it. It was as if he knew it was a royal name and, thus, expected to be treated as such. Besides, it didn’t help matters that, one night after Jo had retired to her quarters early, he’d heard Varric casually mention that “the Inquisitor took Alistair to bed a few minutes ago”.

Cullen sighed and hunched over the work on his desk, rubbing the back of his neck. He missed Jo terribly, and that cat was not helping him forget his loneliness. She’d been gone a week, fighting Venatori in the Wastes, and the cat was a constant reminder of her absence. Alistair sat in the middle of the courtyard, staring at the gate, letting out infrequent, high-pitched yowls, and moving only when Leliana brought him food or accepting short pats from his many admirers. Then, as the sun was setting, Alistair returned to the main hall and curled up in front of Jo’s door as if on constant guard. This was repeated each day, beginning promptly at dawn. Even Jo’s loyal wolf pup, whom she’d ironically named Dread, didn’t put on such a display.

Cullen’s eyes refocused on the paperwork in front of him, but he yawned. It was late and, as much work as he still needed to complete, he knew that he needed to rest. He could hear Jo’s voice chastising him for staying up so late: You’re no good to me or your soldiers if you’re walking around like one of the undead. He was just about to climb the ladder to his loft when he heard a faint scratching noise.

“Maker’s breath,” he muttered, “if those blasted mice are back, I’ll…”

The noise came again, louder and more frantic this time, and he soon realized that it was coming from the door that led from his office to the main hall. Cullen narrowed his eyes, urging himself to ignore the door, but opened it, and was surprised to see Alistair primly sitting in front of the door, staring up at him with big, black eyes.

Cullen looked around to see if Leliana or Josephine had perhaps had something to do with this, but Skyhold was quiet and still. It seemed like the only two beings still awake were he and Alistair.

The cat blinked up at him slowly and let out a small, squeaky meow that softened Cullen immediately. He felt the urge to bend down and scratch the little shit’s ears, but he shook it off and straightened up stiffly and cleared his throat.

“What do you want?” Cullen asked gruffly.

Alistair meowed again, and then began to snake through Cullen’s feet, looking up at him and purring deeply. Cullen tried to remain stoic.

Blasted creature.

“Do you want food? Leliana already gave you some, and I saw you catching mice earlier.”

Another meow.

“Maker! Stop bothering me, Alistair!” Oh, now he felt silly. He shooed the little animal out of his office and shut the door, sighing heavily. Cullen turned to climb the ladder, his foot on the bottom rung, but was again interrupted by scratching at his door.

“I’m not opening it.”

A meow, and then more scratching.

“Find Leliana.”

The scratching intensified.

“I’ve told you before: I’m a dog person.”

A long, drawn-out meow.

“Leave me!”

A wounded howl.

Cullen let out another, more dramatic, sigh, and turned on his heel. He opened the door to the same sight: Alistair, sitting very nicely, staring up at him with those massive, slightly cloying, eyes.

“I said to leave me be. What do you want?”

The cat blinked again and then got up and began to walk towards the main hall. After a few steps, Alistair looked over his shoulder at Cullen as if to say, “follow me”.

And so, against his better judgment and the odd feeling that the cat was somehow luring him into a trap, Cullen followed.

**** Jo hadn’t expected them to arrive back to Skyhold so early in the morning, but as their caravan pulled up over the last stretch of mountain and Skyhold came into view, she let out an immense sigh of relief. The Hissing Wastes had been the last circle of Hell, Bull had snored like a dragon every single night, and she was very much looking forward to sleeping in her own bed. And Cullen… the gods had kept them apart for too long.

As they entered Skyhold’s silent courtyard and her crew sleepily made their way to their respective dwellings, Jo took a moment to stand in the middle of the misty yard, enjoying the rare silence and stillness. Morrigan had spoken of how the magic had seeped into the stones and now, Jo was certain, she could feel it. It was as if the castle had protectively wrapped its arms around its sleeping inhabitants and was peacefully breathing alongside them, creating a silent rhythm unlike anything she’d ever experienced. The place, as quiet and serene as it was in the wee hours of the morning, had never felt more alive. 

Jo took a deep breath in, savouring the innate feeling of serenity, and then followed her crew towards the main hall. She’d retire to her quarters instead of looking for Cullen. Even if he wasn’t sleeping, she didn’t want to disturb him so early, and, besides, she was in dire need of proper, uninterrupted sleep.

The hall was expectedly dark, but Varric had already started the fire close to his table, grumbling to himself about bills. She paused and told him to get some rest, but the parchment and quill were already out, and she knew he’d likely still be there when she woke up later in the day. Solas gave her a polite nod as he slipped into the rotunda, and she felt exhaustion set in even further as she unlocked the door to her quarters and made her way up the stairs.

The faint morning light was just starting to shine through her windows, illuminating the room in a hazy effect like only the mosaic could. The room wasn’t musty the way it usually was when she returned after a lengthy absence, and she felt a draft as she ascended the last few steps. Her heart-rate picked up: had she left a door open? No, she was certain she hadn’t. Perhaps Cullen had been sleeping here…

Her thought was cut off as her bed came into view, and she stopped dead in her tracks, a bemused look on her face. It wasn’t the fact that Cullen was spread out, very obviously naked, in her bed, his strong arms wrapped her favourite pillow as if it were standing in for her, but the fact that, at his feet, lying on the fur from Cullen’s armour that looked as if it had been deliberately placed there for him to sleep on, was Alistair.

That cat, she was certain, had never been more comfortable in his life. He had his head propped up on his little paws, his eyes were closed in a contented slumber, and there was an undeniable smirk on his face..

[lindseyluvsdrag]

It Takes Two Ch.1

Third installment of my Knocked Up series. Parts 1 & 2 here

Warning: Smut, violence, the tears of an advanced 2.5 year old

Ignore any typos :)

“Matthewwww!” Violet shouted from the couch. “Hurry up, it's starting!”

“I'm comin’!” the man replied as he snatched the bag of popcorn from the microwave. It was a little premature but he dumped the contents into a bowl before rushing back into the living room. He jumped over the back of the couch and landed onto his favorite spot next to his wife.

Their two year old daughter had spread her favorite Storm blanket onto the hardwood floor and was sprawled out next to her best friend, Shea. Her Aunt Raven watched the woman through judgemental eyes.

“Why is she even here?” she asked her wife.

“Because the Lents like her. Hell, she used to be one of them.”

Raven cringed. “That's so disgusting, like, shel shouldn't be here. Just because she speaks comic book, doesn't give her the right to call our Goddaughter her ‘best friend’. Do you know how weird that is?”

Naomi exhaled in expression. “She's a really nice lady and Violet wanted her here for the viewing so just get over it.”

“Ssshhhhh!” Violet demanded as she turned up the volume on the TV.

“This week on Bridezillas!” the narrator announced. “Meet Violet.”

Footage of the woman flashed across the screen. “I'm Violet Chachki and I'm a one of a kind collectable. I'm veryyyy visually appealing.”

“A New York fashionista by day and a tyrant by night.”

Violet gasped. “Tyrant?! I was not a tyrant!”

“Matthew! Matthewwww! You’re so full of shit, Matthew! *Bleep* you, Matthew!” They showed  clips of the woman shouting that had be edited together to create a montage of her greatness. “I want chocolate cake! Bloated?! No! Get the fuck away from me! Naomi! Na-o-mi! Naomiiiiiii!”

Matt burst into laughter.

“She'll take you on a rollercoaster ride and leave you with a surprise ending that you'll have to see to believe.”

“We got a runaway bride, y'all!”

They'd edited Raven's voice over the footage of Violet and Naomi sprinting down the busy New York street.

“Coming up on Bridezillassss!”

“This is going to be so good,” Matt said as he stuffed his mouth with popcorn.

“I want some too!” Clark declared.

“Open,” Matt replied.

His daughter obliged. She opened her mouth and allowed her father to toss popcorn kernels into in.

“Yum-my,” she said when he managed to land the first few pieces perfectly.

Violet frowned. “Matthew, I don't want her to choke.”

Matt passed the entire bowl over to his daughter before wrapping his arm around his wife's shoulder and pulling her close so that he could kiss her temple.

Raven rolled her eyes and stormed into the kitchen. The woman popped open the first bottle of wine that she could find, pressed it to her lips and turned it upside down. A voice behind her shortly thereafter made her jump.

“I would ask you to share, but I'm trying to get pregnant and drinking is against doctor's orders,” Shea joked.

Raven scowled. “As if I'd share anything with you.”

The woman defensively raised her hands while she grabbed the popcorn that Clark had asked her to make. She placed the packet into the microwave and pressed the corresponding button.

“Why are you here?” the woman pressed. “Dealing with Matthew is bad enough, but to bring his baggage into my best friend's house is just too much for me.”

“I'm here because Violet invited me. We've actually gotten really close since the wedding, especially since she gifted me with her Paris tickets.”

“You've known her for like five minutes.”

“I mean, that's all it takes to get to know someone. That and a little shopping at Neiman's.”

“Yo-You’ve gone shopping together?”

“Oh, plenty of times,” Shea said truthfully. “We even looked at potential furniture for the nursery.”

“Maybe she just feels bad that you can't have a baby,” Raven hissed.

Out of respect for the Lent’s home, the woman remained calm. “Is that so? Maybe she feels bad that neither can your wife.” Shea didn't even wait for the microwave to beep before she popped the hatch, grabbed the bag and casually exited the room.

Raven saw nothing but red as she flung the wine bottle at the other woman. It landed against her head in a loud thump.

Everything after that was a blur. The woman's tunnelled vision was paired with echoing yells and Clark's cries. When Raven finally snapped out of the trance, she realized that she'd made it home. Naomi was seated in the corner across the room, knocking the ashes off of the cigarette that she puffed on.

“Have you come to your fucking senses yet?”

“What happened?” Raven asked.

“You nearly killed Shea!”

“No, babe, she said some really fucked up shit!”

“Like what? Tell me what is horrible enough to get a bottle thrown at your head! And don't lie because I know your ass started it.”

“As a matter of fact, I was defending your ass! She was saying how she shops with Vi and how they're the best of friends and I was brutally honest with her. I told her that Vi probably just feels bad that she can't have kids and she was all like well neither can your wife. How was I supposed to respond to that?!”

“Seriously, Raven? If you're going to be with me, you have to develop a tougher skin than that. I heard crap like that, and way worse, growing up. You can't attack everyone who talks shit. You can't attack the world.”

“If the world tries to hurt you, I will.”

Naomi sighed as she extinguished the cancer stick. “I appreciate the gesture, but that's not how the world works.” The woman pushed herself out of her seat. “Get your coat.”

Raven frowned. “Where are we going?”

“To get some flowers, then to the hospital.”

---

“I walk out of the kitchen and the next thing I know is that I'm seeing stars,” Shea joked. “Like goddamn, is this what I get for undercooking the popcorn?”

Matt and Violet laughed.

“Only you could make a situation like this funny,” the man said.

Clark climbed from the foot of the bed to Shea's side. “Are you sureee you're okay?”

“Besides being a little dizzy, yes, I'm fine.”

“But what about this?” the girl asked as she gently touched the gauze bandage around the woman's head.

“It only hurts a little but I'll be fine, Clark. How are you feeling?”

“Still scared,” she sniffled. “I never saw a lot of blood on the floor before.”

Matt frowned and pulled his daughter into an embrace. “It's okay, boo,” he cooed as he rocked her.

There was a knock on the door before the doctor entered the room.

“So, I have some blood work results. I'm not sure if you want it shared privately or…”

“No, it's fine. What's up?”

“Okay, so, your blood work shows that you have very low iron levels. You're pretty much anemic.”

Shea frowned. “Um, okay, so what does that mean?”

“It means that you've been trying to conceive a baby, but research has shown that women who don’t get enough iron can develop anovulation. That is the lack of ovulating during the menstrual cycle. Low iron levels may also affect the health of the egg to be fertilized. It can diminish your ability to get pregnant by as much as sixty percent.”

“Sixty?! Holy sparkles,” she said, her new cuss word replacement whilst around Clark. “So what do I have to do to fix it?”

“I'm prescribing you some iron pills and recommending food rich in iron and other minerals to help you and the baby out.”

Her eyes grew wide. “B-Baby?”

“Oh, yes. Your blood work also shows that you're currently pregnant.”

“Oh my God!”

“Are we seriously going to be those friends that are knocked up at the same time?!” Violet laughed before hugging the woman. “Congratulations!”

It was a bittersweet moment for Matt. He squeezed his ex's hand. “Congrats.”

The gears in Clark's head were obviously turning. “So there's a baby in Miss Shea's stomach too?”

“Allegedly,” Shea replied.

The girl wrinkled her nose. “How does the baby get in the stomach?”

“Anddddd that's my cue,” Matt said as he turned on his heel and exited the room with the girl in his arms. “Want a soft pretzel?”

“Yes!”

The women burst into laughter.

“The universe works in the craziest ways because we literally just looked at furniture for nurseries,” Violet said. “Now you get to pick out your own.”

“I wouldn't be so quick about this. I've been pregnant before and it usually ends horribly.”

“This one won't,” Violet assured. “We'll keep you on those pills and make sure you eat nickels or some shit.”

“Aww, I love nickels!”

The women cackled just as Naomi hesitantly  entered the room. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “I can't express how sorry I am that this happened to you. Because I'm married to Raven, I automatically bare some of the responsibilities for her mistakes. And from the bottom of my heart, I'm truly sorry,” she sniffled.

“You're married to a goddamn neanderthal, sweetheart,” Shea replied. “And I swear that whenever I see her again, I'm going to kill her. I hope that you have life insurance on her, I hope that you have a burial plot for her and I hope that you have a little black dress ready to wear because I'm literally going to stomp her into the ground- as a matter of fact, you won't even need a funeral home to do the job for you. I’m going to bury that bitch,” she fumed.

“No, no,” Violet intervened. “You won't be doing anything like that.”

“Violet, I understand that she's one of your best friends but she threw a full fucking bottle of wine at my head! I have twenty stitches because of her!”

“I know and it's not even about her being my friend, Shea. You're pregnant.”

Naomi nauseously clutched her abdomen. “You're pregnant?” she wheezed out.

“She is,” Violet responded.

“Oh, God,” Naomi panted.

Her friend pushed herself out of her seat. “Are you okay?”

“No! How am I supposed to feel knowing that Raven has attacked this poor pregnant woman 'in my honor’?!”

“To be fair, I didn't know that I was pregnant until a few minutes ago.”

“It’s not fair,” Naomi sniffled. “She shouldn't be attacking people to begin with and I just feel terrible.”

“Where is she?” Violet asked.

“I told her to wait in the lobby. I wasn't sure if you wanted to see her.”

“Not really,” Shea admitted.

“Me either,” Violet said. “For one, she disrespected my home. Two, she traumatized my fucking daughter, which is damn near unforgivable. Three, she ruined my Bridezilla viewing party and my hardwood floors. Four, she left like an idiot without a goddamn apology.”

“Would you guys be willing to accept an apology from her now?”

Shea casually checked her nails while Violet mindlessly twirled a strand of her hair. “No,” they said collectively before laughing.

Naomi was heartbroken. “That's fair. Um, I guess I'll get going. I hope you feel better soon, Shea. Vi... I'll call you later.”

“Alright, sweetie.” Violet kissed her friend on the cheek before turning back to Shea. “We have to figure out how far along you are! Come to my gyno’s office.”

“I'm down.”

“Do you think our morning sickness will be synced up?”

Shea laughed. “Let’s hope not. But seeing you throw up would totally make me throw up, though.”

“Well, we can't both vomit at the same time. Who will hold back our hair?”

The question was trivial but it hit Naomi in a way that reminded her that she'd never experience  pregnancy or be able to have sweet moments like this with her best friend. With tears in her eyes, she slipped out of the room and made her way towards the lobby where Raven greeted her.

“What happened?”

“Shea is pregnant.”

The woman gulped. “I didn't... I didn't hurt the baby, did I?”

“No. I mean, as far as I know. But God, Raven. Why do you have to be so fucking psychotic?!” Naomi stormed pass her wife and out of the hospital doors but Raven was quick on her heels.

“I'm not psychotic!”

“You burn things and you attack people, what else would you call that?!”

“Protective!”

“Oh, yeah,” she scoffed. “Protect me from my best friend who now hates you and wants hardly anything to do with me because of it.”

Raven paused. “Vi hates me?”

“She's livid for the following reasons: you disrespected her home. You traumatized CC, which will never forgive you for. You ruined her Bridezilla viewing party and her hardwood floors. You left without apologizing.”

“I’m sorry, I blacked out! I could apologize now and-”

“It's too late to apologize, Raven! You can't react in situations now and think later! That's how people in up incarcerated for murder!”

The woman pondered for a second. “Surprisingly, I've never been to jail.”

Naomi threw her arms up in exasperation and proceeded to storm to the car. Raven sighed and followed suit, climbing into the driver's seat before speeding out of the parking lot. The wives rode home in silence. When they made it inside the condo, Naomi made it a point to slam every door, window and cabinet that she came in contact with.

The tantrum quickly waned on Raven's nerves.

“Alright, can you tell me exactly how long you plan on being mad? The slamming is giving me a headache.”

“You know who else has a headache?! Shea does!”

“Fuck Shea! I don't give a fuck about Shea!”

“So you have no remorse for what you did to her?”

“I have no remorse for defending my wife, no.”

Naomi burst into tears. “I can't be the reason that you hurt by people!” She stormed into the bedroom and tossed herself onto the king sized mattress.

“Babeee,” Raven groaned as she followed her. She climbed onto the bed next to her wife and stroked the woman's hair. “Please don't cry. Please.”

“Leave me alone,” Naomi sobbed.

“Never,” Raven promised as she kissed her wife's shoulder then neck, then jaw. She returned to her neck and began to suck on it.

“Stopppp,” her wife weakly protested.

The woman continued and eventually got Naomi to roll over so that she could kiss her tears away. “Baby, please don't be mad at me.”

She didn't respond but Raven refused to give up, kissing along her wife’s neck and chest before traveling down her body. When she slid down her skirt and thong, Naomi finally relented to the woman's touch.

Raven wasted no time in doing everything she could to orally please her lover, practically worshipping her clit with her mouth while her fingers explored her sugar walls.

Naomi had given in, but she didn't want the woman to think that what she had done was acceptable. She formed her mouth to say something but when Raven flipped her onto her stomach as she pulled the dildo from the nightstand drawer, she decided that it'd be best to wait.

“You have the most perfect ass,” Raven whispered, kissing her wife's right cheek prior to giving it a firm slap. Naomi whimpered in pleasure so Raven did it again, then again. When she felt like the flushed skin had had enough, the woman gave her lover's smooth ass tender kisses to make up for it. “So which hole will I be pounding tonight?”

“It doesn't matter, just fuck me,” Naomi pleaded.

“Then your perfect ass it is.” Raven quickly strapped on the eight inch dildo they'd named Big Ben prior to retrieving the tingle inducing lube from the nightstand. She smeared the gel all over her wife's apple shaped bottom and the realistic strap-on before spreading her wife's cheeks and sliding in the tip.

Naomi gasped as she clutched the sheets while Raven continued to inch the silicone member into her. When the full length was nestled inside of the woman's ass, Raven gave her wife a moment to adjust before sliding out and gently entering again.

“Fuck,” Naomi moaned.

“You like that, baby?” she asked as she picked up her thrusting pace.

“Yes! Oh God, yes.”

Raven pulled the woman closer by her hips and continued to pound into her wife until she was panting and begging her not to stop as she climaxed.

“You're so fucking beautiful. I love making you cum all over this cock.”

Naomi wasn't in the mood for dirty talk as she collected herself enough to dismount the penis.

“Wanna ride it now?” Raven asked.

“No,” she sighed as she grabbed her skirt and tossed it into the hamper. The woman made her way to the bathroom door way before pausing and turning around. “Do you seriously not have any remorse for what you did to Shea?”

Raven unclipped the strap-on. “Nope,” she chirped.

“And if it costs me my friendship with Violet, would you feel remorse then?”

“What I did has nothing to do with her.”

“Yes it does! You attacked someone in her house! You disrespected my best friend!”

“She didn't want my apology so fuck her!”

“Don’t talk about her like that!”

“You seriously want to argue with me about Violet? Violet isn't your wife! Violet doesn't fuck you the way that I fuck you! Violet doesn't love you the way that I love you!”

“I'd rather be celibate and have her in my life than be married to someone who doesn't care enough to respect my friend of 25 years.”

“Are you seriously choosing Violet over me?”

Naomi took a deep breath. “Yeah...I guess I am.”

Raven laughed in disbelief. “Do you realize that I'm the woman that saved your fucking life? I pushed you out of the way of a car driven by a transphobic lunatic that was trying to kill you! I lost my memory, hell, I almost lost my fucking life for you!”

“Sometimes I regret that your memory did come back,” was all Naomi could say.

The expression on Raven's face made the woman's stomach twist into knots. “What do you mean?”

“I never wanted to marry a female,” she blurted. “But gender is boundless and you made me realize that was love too, but fuck, Raven. Maybe if you hadn't gotten your memory back…maybe if we hadn't have gotten married, you wouldn't be this way. You're... insane.”

The word seemed to trigger the woman but instead of exploding, an eerily calm demeanor took its place. “Insane?”

“Yes! At first I thought your temper was a little sexy, but now you've gone too far- and with no remorse! I can't take it anymore.”

“So... you're leaving me?”

Naomi sighed. “I'm spending the night at a hotel so that I can clear my head but honestly... I don't think this is fixable.”

“Okay,” Raven said nonchalantly.

“Alright,” the woman replied as she turned on her heel and entered the walk-in closet.

After getting dressed, she grabbed her suitcase and began stuffing her designer clothing into it. When she was finished packing, Naomi wheeled her luggage into the bedroom. She didn't see Raven, but her heart stopped when she saw the trail of blood leading out of the room. “Raven!” She dropped her suitcase and dashed into the living room, then all over the rest of the house, but the woman was nowhere to be found. “Raven!”

---

Violet sat up in bed, flipping through the latest issue of Vogue Italia while Matt walked his fingers along her belly as he read through his expectant father's book.

“Tomorrow can't come fast enough,” he sighed. “Shea is going to this appointment with us?”

“Technically, yes. She has her own apartment to see how far along she is and whatnot.”

"And we're what? Twelve weeks along?”

The woman nodded.

“Twelve weeks...twelve weeks,” the man mumbled as he flipped through the pages of his book. He stopped on the corresponding section. “‘At twelve weeks, your baby's face looks unquestionably human’.” Matt cackled. “His eyes have moved from the sides of his head to the front of his head-”

“Why do they always gender the damn fetus in these books?” Violet asked. “Protest.”

Matt laughed and continued to read. “‘And his ears are right where they should be. From crown to rump, your baby-to-be is just over 2 inches long and weighs half an ounce. Your baby is about the size of a lime’.”

“Matthew, stop. That's making me nauseous.”

The man closed the book. “So, do you want a girl or a boy this time?”

“Doesn't matter. So long as they're healthy.”

“You say that like Clark isn't healthy.”

Just then, a message poured into their walkie talkie.

“Daddy, come quick! Magento is under my bed and wants to steal all of my friends!”

“I rest my case,” Violet said.

Matt gave the woman a playful nudge on the arm before making his way towards the exit.

“Ugh, how dare they put this crap in Vogue,” Violet groaned as she grabbed her cell phone. She dialed her best friend.

“Hello?” Naomi sniffled.

“Girl, why is there capri gauchos in this issue of Vogue Italia? It's disgusting and disrespectful…but it's nothing to cry over. What's wrong?”

---

“I’m going to ask you again,” one lieutenant hissed at Naomi. The frazzled woman nervously sat across from him and his partner, trying to suppress more tears as they relentlessly interrogated her. “Do you know where your wife could've gone?”

“No! For the fifth time, no! My wife is missing and you act like I had something to do with it!”

“Well did you?” the other officer asked. “Here, I'll give you a scenario: you two were in the middle of a fight. She said that she was leaving you. In a blind rage, you attack her. 'If I can't have you, no one can!’ You snap out of it and see what you'd done and you hide the body.”

"That explains the luggage and why she left her cell phone and purse,” the first lieutenant added.

“No, that is my luggage! I was packing and when I left the room, she was gone and so was her car!   And when I saw the blood, I called you guys! I'd never hurt my wife!”

“I'm going to hurt you!” Naomi heard Violet shout. “Where is Naomi?! You'd better tell me where she is now or I'll slaughter your entire division in my magazine!”

The lieutenants looked at each other. “Who is that?”

“My best friend. The one that called.”

“Ma'am, put the high heel down! I will taze you!”

“She's pregnant!” Naomi informed as she pushed herself out of her seat, then out of the room. “Don’t taze her!” she pleaded. “Violet, calm down.”

The woman returned the five inch makeshift weapon to her foot. “Are you okay, honey? Did they hurt you?”

“No, I'm fine but the questioning-”

“Questioning for what?! You didn't do anything!” She turned to the nearest detective. “She didn't do anything and you won't be saying another thing to her without her lawyer present!”

“The reason that I didn't lawyer up was because I had nothing to hide,” Naomi admitted. “I just need to know what happened to Raven,” she sniffled.

“Well, did you call her parents?”

Naomi was perplexed. “Parents? She told me that her parents were dead.”

“What? No, they're alive. They live in Rochester.”

---

“I came in here to fight Magento. How did I end up with fingernail polish on?” Matt asked his daughter as she splattered globs of coral nail polish on his fingers.

“Because it's your color,” Clark replied.

“Fair enough,” he sighed.

“Daddy, you're so prettyyyy!”

“Thank you, pudding. You want me to paint yours now?”

“Yes!” Clark rushed into her closet and returned shortly after with an ice blue shade of polish. She handed it to her father.

“Ooo, this is cute.”

“It's my color,” the girl chirped as she flopped to the floor in front of him and placed her small hand in his.

“Really? I've always liked red on you.”

“I like red too! Can we do both?”

“And make purple?”

Clark wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Purple?”

“Yes. When you mix red and blue together, it makes purple.”

“Oh...no. I just want blue today. Like Iceman.”

Matt smiled as he opened the small bottle. He began to carefully paint each of the girl's tiny fingernails.  

When he finished one hand, Clark did a quality check. “You're a good painter, Daddy.”

“Thank you, boo. Can I have a kiss for all my hard work?”

“Finish the other hand first.”

He laughed. “Okay, princess.”

---

By the time Raven arrived at her parent's house, it was two in the morning. She pulled up the winding driveway, rushed up to the front door and began to pound on it. Moments later, her arthritic father opened the door with a baseball bat in hand. “Raven?! Baby, are you okay?! What are you doing here so late?!”

She pushed past the man and entered the house.

“Dad, you're 55 with rheumatoid arthritis. What the fuck were you going to do with a bat?”

Raven stomped along the beautiful homes marble flooring just as her mother descended the stairs. “We thought you were a burglar!”

“You should be so lucky,” she grumbled.

When the woman noticed her daughter's hostile demeanor, disheveled appearance and  bandaged wrist, she knew that the horror had begun all over again. She swiftly rushed over to her. “So honey, how are you? It feels like we haven't heard from you in months.”

“That's because you haven't,” she replied.

“Well, we love you and we'd love to have you around more often t-”

“Yeah, that's what you said before you tried to send me to prison.”

“Honey, that wasn't prison. It was a hospital. You were sick.”

“Bullshit,” Raven groaned. “Did you cook?” she asked as she made her way towards the refrigerator.

Her mother followed her. “Well, if you aren't sick, what happened to your wrist?”

“I cut it while shaving,” she attempted to joke as she opened the refrigerator doors. Her mother rolled her eyes. Raven grabbed a turkey leg and a handful of shredded cheese.

“Raven...is that a wedding ring?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I got married,” she said nonchalantly.

“When?!” her mother demanded.

“Three...four months ago? Yeah, four months ago.” Raven took a bite of the turkey and topped it off with the cheese.

“Honey, why didn't you invite us to your wedding? Tell me about him. Do you love him?”

Raven scowled. “I married a woman.”

“Oh... I forgot that's legal now.”

“This is why I didn't tell you! You're fucking ignorant!”

“Oh, stop it, Raven! You know we're not bigots. I just thought you would've married someone like Nigel.”

“Don't... mention... Nigel,” Raven snarled. “I haven't seen him since the summer before college...since he filed the restraining order.”

Her mother sighed. “I'm just taking it all in. I'd love to meet your wife, darling.”

“She left me.”

The woman wasn't surprised. “Oh... I'm so sorry, baby. Do you think you'll be able to work it out?”

“Not if she keeps picking Violet over me,” Raven hissed.

“Violet Chachki? That girl you went to college with?”

“Yes, mother!” she exploded. “In fact, I met all of my friends in college because everyone from high school hated me! I tried to get away from them and from you! But the one time you pop up on me you blurted all of your information to Violet like an idiot! Nobody cares! You just wanted to be nosy, mother!”

“It was your first year of college and you didn't want to include me in anything!”

“Because I was so excited to get away from you! Do you not understand that growing up here was torture?!”

By this point, her mother was sobbing. “Raven, we provided you with everything you could've ever wanted.”

“Yeah, yeah and you act like that included the psych ward. I didn't want to go to therapy or take meds mother. There's nothing wrong with me. I just love hard and I get emotional.”

“Stalking Nigel and pummeling that the poor girl that he was dating was loving hard?”

Raven angrily swiped the glass vase off of the counter, forcing it to shatter against the tile floor. “I told you not to mention him!”

Out of sheer fear of what the woman was capable of, her mother turned on her heel and quickly retreated up the stairs to her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

“I don't know why you even bother with her,” the woman's husband sighed as he adjusted his pillow. “Borderline personality disorder isn't curable.”

“I don't care if it's incurable. She's my daughter.”

Raven sank to the floor, sobbing as she rocked. “Why can't I think cleary?” She gathered up enough strength to crawl into the living room towards the bookshelf. The woman wiped her eyes, grabbed her high school yearbook and quickly began to flip through it. When she found the senior section, she quickly spotted the brown eyed boy who bore a striking resemblance to her spouse in body type and complexion. Tear drop after tear drop splashed on the glossy pages of the book as the memories of what happened years ago began to haunt the woman all over again.

---

The girl eagerly checked her braces in the compact mirror before slamming it closed when she saw the boy. She quickly stood, smoothed her pigtails and rushed over to him.

“Hi, Nigel!”

“Whoaaa, um, hey...Raj-”

“Raven,” she chirped. “How are you?”

“I'm good.”

“That's good! I mean, I'm glad that you're good because that makes me happy and-”

“Hey, Nigel!” one of the boy's football teammates yelled from across campus. “Let's go, we'll be late for practice!”

“I'm coming!” he shouted back. “Listen, um, Ruby-”

“Raven,” the girl corrected for the second time.

“Raven. I'll see you later.”

“Okay!” she said excitedly. “I'll see you later.”

The boy turned made his way towards his friends.

“See you later,” Raven repeated to herself as she smoothed her hair. “I'll see...you,” she emphasized, “later.” The girl winked. “It's a date.”

After football practice, Raven waited for the boy to exit the locker room and when he did, she skipped over to him and his friends.

“Hi, Nigel!”

The boy gave a casual head nod but continued to walk. She followed.

“So, I was wonderinggggg, since, ya know... homecoming is coming up. If you'd like to go?”

The boy's friends let out low, teasing grumbles.

“I’m pretty sure I'm homecoming king. Of course I'm going.”

“Really?! That's so amazing! I mean, I voted for you three times even though you're only supposed to vote once.”

“Thanks,” he said flatly.

"I can't wait to see you there.”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Why don't you ask her to be your date?” one of his friends pressed while the others suppressed their laughter.

Raven took in an excited breath.

Nigel punched the jokester on the arm. “I’m already going with Tatianna.”

The girl's face fell. “It’s okay,” she assured. “Just seeing you there will be awesome.”

Before Nigel could utter an uncomfortable 'ditto’, Raven's mother honked as she pulled up behind her.

“Oh! Time to go dress shopping. I'll see you guys later!” Raven skipped towards the car before abruptly stopping and turning around. “Nigel, what color vest are you wearing? If you don't mind me asking.”

“I don't know yet,” he lied. “I have to go shopping too and-”

“He's wearing blue!” one of the other boys shouted.

“Oh my God, I love blue! Okay, see you guys later!” Raven rushed the rest of the distance to her mother's car and hopped inside. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart. Is that the one that asked you to homecoming?”

“Yes,” she said, practically melting as she waved goodbye to the boy.

“Hello, Nigel!” her mother politely greeted with a wave before speeding off.

“God, even her Mom knows my name?” the boy groaned.

“Well, duh, you're her future son-in-law,” his friends teased.

“Fuck all the way off.”

---

Raven felt adorable in her knee length blue, taffeta dress. She added a bejeweled belt and a diamond clip in her barrel curled hair for flare. The girl strutted into the cafeteria and she wasn't surprised to see Nigel and Tatianna on the dance floor but it didn't hurt nonetheless. She got herself a glass of punch before picking a spot against the wall so that she could watch the boy and the girl as they slow danced.

Nigel's drunken hands explored Tatianna’s body while his lips aggressively took her neck.

“Babe...babe, stop,” she protested.

“Come on, girl,” he slurred. “You look good enough to eat.”

“I know this, but that doesn't give you the right to be sloppy.”

The boy scoffed. “Just get over here.” He snatched her closer to him by the waist.

Tatianna shoved him away before slapping the boy across the face. “I demand respect! If you won't give it to me, I'm out of here!” The girl stormed towards the exit, quickly followed by her date who was quickly followed by Raven.

Tatianna hopped into her car.

“Tati, come on!” Nigel pleaded. “You're being dramatic!”

“Fuck you!” the girl said as she sped off.

“Bitch,” he groaned, pulling the flask from his pocket to take another sip of vodka.

“Nigel, are you okay?” Raven asked.

The boy looked at her and nodded.

She sighed in relief. “Good. Nobody deserves to be slapped... especially someone as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, yeah?” He took another sip and returned the flask to his jacket pocket. “You're sorta beautiful too.”

The girl's entire face became a heated furnace.  “Re-Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Y-You want to go inside and dance? They're playing a slow song.”

“Nahhh,” he slurred. “I got a better idea.” Nigel grabbed Raven's hand and she could've fainted then and there.

It was her dreams finally becoming reality as he led her to his car.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Nowhere,” he assured as he opened the back door and ushered her in while he followed and closed the door. Raven smoothed her dress but it was wrinkled once again when the boy leaned in for a kiss. The girl was so excited that she threw her hands up, only to have them hit the roof of the car.

“Sorry, Nigel,” she grumbled.

“It's okay,” the boy told her while he pulled away to dig into his glove compartment.

When Raven saw the condom, her eyes grew wide. She loudly cleared her throat.

“Is there a problem?”

“No! I mean, um, no,” she said more calmly. “I just want to get to know you and um, well I already know a lot about you like your schedule and your favorite thing to eat at lunch and I really don't want to sound weird, you know, I used to work in the cafeteria and I volunteered in the front office so I just happened to notice these things but I really, really, really like you and-”

He cut her off with another kiss. “I like your braces.”

The melted girl thanked him and she was like putty in his hands as he leaned her onto the seat before reaching underneath her skirt. When his hand found her panties Raven became tense.

“There's probably something that I should tell you.”

“What?”

“I'm a virgin.”

He smiled. “Nothing wrong with that.” The boy reached into his pocket, grabbed the flask and handed it to her. “Sip and you'll be fine.”

Raven sat up and gulped the liquid before groaning at her first taste of alcohol. “That's so grossss.”

“Yeah...but it'll help you relaxxx.”

The girl hung onto every word that left the boy's lips. She nodded and drank some more. “Wooo! Hello, relaxation.”

Nigel smiled and proceeded to remove the girl's panties. He tossed them over his shoulder, making Raven laugh while he removed his pants and slid on the condom onto his dick. The entire scenario was just how Raven had imagined it. Besides her first time being on their wedding night, she knew that staring into his brown eyes right before they made love would be just like this.

He positioned himself over the girl and he slowly pushed himself inside of her. She winced at the pain, but she knew that the boy would be gentle and take care of her. Raven was more excited for the intimacy than the sex itself, watching the boy's every expression and attempting to match her exhales with his.

“You look beautiful,” she offered.

“I'm about to come,” was his response.

The girl's eyes grew wide in excitement. “That means I did good?”

“Fuck,” the boy moaned as he climaxed into the condom.

Raven smiled. We're such a perfect couple, she thought.

Nigel pulled out and groaned. “Fuck, you're bleeding.”

“Well, it doesn't hurt anymore,” the girl assured.

“My poor fucking seats. This needs to be cleaned, asap. Umm, I'll take you home.”

“Oh…okay.”

When the boy pulled in front of her house, Raven climbed out and made her way to the driver side window. “I had fun tonight. Although, I really wished we could've danced.”

Nigel chuckled. “Homecoming is overrated.” He grabbed the plastic crown that he'd won as homecoming king and placed it on the girl's head. “Goodnight.”

With a swelling heart, Raven stole a kiss. “Goodnight.”

The boy sped off, leaving the girl to twirl several times before skipping into the house.

“You're home early,” her mother said.

“Yeah, but it doesn't matter because Nigel loves meeee,” she squealed before rushing up the stairs to her laptop so that she could change her Facebook relationship status from ‘Single’ to 'In a Relationship’.

Monday morning Raven couldn't wait to see the boy that she'd dreamt about the entire weekend. Her heart exploded when she saw him, but before she could make her way over, Tatianna approached and kissed him.

The girl had no idea what to think, but she quickly made her way over to make her territory known.

“Hey, Nigel... what's going on?”

“What do you mean what's going on?” he asked.

Raven glanced between the boy and the smug Tatianna. “You're with me! You told me that I was beautiful! You made love to me on homecoming night! Y-You gave me your crown and kissed me goodnight!”

The boy clenched his jaw before exhaling. “I'm sorry.”

“You... You're sorry?” she asked in a broken voice. “You took my virginity.”

Tatianna groaned. “Okay, I'm ready to go. This is getting pathetic.”

“Nobody is talking to you, wench! At least I don't hit him!”

“I demand his respect and nothing less and as you can see, he comes back to me every time! Babe, tell her!”

Nigel sighed. “I'm with Tatianna. I love her. What we did on Saturday night was a drunken mistake.”

Tatianna rolled her neck as she reached into her purse and pulled out the Ziploc bag that carried Raven's panties. She tossed it at her. “And get your nasty underwear that you left in my man's car!”

The crowd that had now gathered let out a collective 'Oooooo’.

It was the last thing that Raven heard before her red tinted vision overwhelmed her. She lunged at Tatianna and began to slam the girl's head against the concrete.

Nigel was quick to pull Raven off of his girlfriend but the sidewalk was already stained with her blood.

“Oh, dear,” Raven exhaled as she dusted herself off. “What happened?”

---

“What happened, Raven?” her therapist asked.

“I don't know! All I remember is Tatianna throwing my underwear at me, after that Nigel was pulling me off of her and into his arms.”

“Are you sure that he was pulling you into his arms?”

“Uh, yeah,” Raven said as if was obvious. “Nigel loves me.”

“He told you that?”

“He didn't have to tell me. The way he looked into my eyes as we made love spoke volumes.”

“Raven... that boy was drunk. That's not love.”

The girl scowled. “You don't know what love is!” she exploded, pushing herself out of her seat then out of therapy completely.

---

After school was over for the day, Nigel made his way down his usual path to his car.

Raven jumped out of the shrubbery to greet him.“Hi, baby!”

“What the fuck!” the startled boy let out. “What the hell are you doing on campus, Raven?! You're expelled!”

She shushed him as she placed a finger to his lips. “Tatianna doesn't have her evil clutches to dig into you anymore. We can finally be together,” the girl panted breathlessly.

Nigel shoved her away. “Tatianna is in the hospital because of you! She's in so much pain and I hate to see her like that. This is your last chance to get the to fuck out of her before I call campus security.”

I love you, get out here before we're discovered, was what the girl heard. “Come with me, Nigel,” she exhaled.

“What?” the clearly confused boy asked.

Raven threw her arms around him. “Run away with me, darling.”

Nigel shoved the girl away yet again. “I'm not your darling! Get away from me!” He sprinted to his car but Raven was hot on his heels.

“With Tatianna out of the way, we can work this out! I love you and I know you love me! We can run away and be together forever!”

The boy climbed into his car and locked the doors. As he fumbled with the key, Raven smashed her face against the driver side window.  

“Until we meet again, my love!”

Nigel threw the car into gear, narrowly missing the girl as he smashed the gas.

Raven exhaled. “What a man.”

“Hey, you!” campus security shouted as he made his way towards her. The girl quickly took off.

---

“Raven, did you go to your old school today?” her mother asked over dinner.

“No,” she lied. “Why?”

“I got a call from the dean. He says the girl on the security camera hiding in the bushes before running after Nigel Carraway looks eerily similar to you.”

“Well it wasn't me,” she said defensively.

Despite knowing that she was lying, her mother just went with it. “Good. There's nothing there for you anymore. Private school is so much better, right?”

“No,” Raven grumbled. “It's all girls and they don't like me.”

“Honey, you'll make friends soon enough. You just have to open up and show them your amazing personality.”

“It’d be better if Nigel was there.”

The woman stabbed her asparagus out of sheer frustration. “Raven, I know that you were... intimate with this boy. And as humans, sometimes that makes us feel very attached to one another. But it's okay to move on if someone isn't interested in you.”

“Mom, I told you. We made love because we love each other and we're going to be together. We're thinking about eloping.”

Her mother nearly choked. “Elope?” She knew that the boy had no interest in the girl, but she was always careful to tiptoe around Raven's delusions. “Honey, you can't elope. You're just 17. You're still a baby.”

“I'm not a baby! Do babies have sex?!”

The woman sighed. “I guess not. Just promise me that you'll focus on your schooling and taking your meds.”

“I don't like those meds,” she protested. “I can't think clearly on them.”

“I spoke to Nigel's mother the other day…”

Raven’s eyes grew wide. “You spoke to Pam?! What'd she say?”

The woman put on a cheeky expression.

“Come on, Mommmm,” the girl pleaded. “Tell me!”

“She wants a daughter-in-law who is calm, cool and collected.”

“That's me!”

“That's what I told her...but you are a little high strung off of your medicine.”

“High strung? That's no good.”

“Not at all. Pam wouldn't like it at all and there's one thing you must do in a marriage. Impress your mother-in-law.”

Raven shrieked. “I'll go take my meds now!” She pushed herself out of her seat and rushed up the stairs. Her mother smiled and took a bite of her asparagus.

Raven entered the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet and popped open the bottle of medication. She frowned.

“I don't like being foggy. If Pam can't accept me as I am...then fuck her.” The girl dumped the pills into the toilet and flushed them.

---

Nigel grinned when he woke to the smell of bacon on a Saturday morning. The boy stretched as he crawled out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. “Ma, if you wanted me to do my chores, you didn't have to whip out my weakness. I'll..take out the...tras-” His heart practically stopped when he saw Raven in a sheer negligee pressing the bacon into the frying pan.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I made you breakfast.”

“Mom!” he shouted.

“She's gone,” Raven informed. “She left about 15 minutes ago... we're alone, baby,” she said lustfully.

“Raven...get the fuck out of my house or I'll call the cops!”

The girl laughed. “Babe, you're so funny. Come on. Have a seat so you can eat.”

The boy rushed over, gripped the girl's arm and began to drag her towards the exit. “Get out!”

“Sweetheart, you're hurting meeee.”

“Good! Get the fuck out!” Nigel shoved Raven so  hard that she fell to the floor.

When the girl hit the hardwood, in addition to her bones, something inside of her snapped. “Okay, Nigel... I'll go,” she said calmly as she pushed herself off of the floor. “Just let me get my purse.” Raven sauntered over to the counter and instead of grabbing her bag, she grabbed a sharp blade from the knife block and sliced her wrist.

“Fuck!” Nigel rushed over to the girl, snatched the knife from her hand and tossed it before calling 911.

---

Raven stared at the blandly painted wall as she laid on her side in the hospital bed. Her mother sat across from her. The woman had no idea what to say, but she was grateful that the boy had enough sense to call an ambulance instead of kicking her sick daughter out onto the street as she bled.

“Raven...Honey... I-”

“It's okay, Mom. I don't need a pep talk. Nigel doesn't love me and I'm learning to accept that.”

The woman grabbed her daughter's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Come in,” she said when she heard the knock on the door.

A young man neither of them recognized entered the room. “Are you Raven Petruschin?”

“Yes,” the girl replied.

Her mother was suspicious. “Why? Who are you?”

The man didn't respond as he handed Raven the orange envelope. “You've been served.”

“Are you kidding me?!” her mother shouted. “You don't serve people in the hospital!”

He rushed out of the room while Raven opened the envelope and pulled out the paperwork. She read a few lines. “It's a restraining order...from Nigel,” she said quietly.

“Oh, honey that just means-”

“I know what it means mother. It's okay. I understand.”

---

“I understand,” she said as she watched Nigel's house be consumed by the flames she'd set. “I understand.”

The fire was like a cleansing for the girl and she wanted to make sure that Nigel and his mother returned home from his football game to ashes.

She didn't understand why she had to stay away from Nigel. “If he's so bothered, he should stay away from me,” she grumbled.

He did just that when he moved states to attend college and to this day, he hates the smell of bacon and he kicks shrubbery outside of his house before walking to his car.

---

After having her braces removed, Raven strutted into school with a fresh haircut and an even fresher attitude. She enjoyed her last year of high school as one of most popular girls there and by the time she graduated, she knew that fashion was what she wanted to pursue.

---

“Ugh, that professor is totally buggingggg,” Violet groaned as they exited the college classroom. “A minimum of 200 words?! I can'tttt.”

“I don't think it's too bad,” Raven admitted. “I guess I'll start it now to get it out of the way. “What are you about to do?”

“Oh, I'm gonna to meet my friend Naomi for lunch then we're going to Neimans. Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

The duo made their way to the quad fountain and Raven stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the woman. She was a bronze goddess with perfect hair and full lips that Raven could imagine against hers. The woman was the female counterpart to Nigel and Raven was doing a pretty pathetic job at not staring.

“Naomi this is Raven and vice versa,” Violet said.

“H-Hi,” Raven stammered.

“Hey,” Naomi sweetly greeted. “I give hugs,” she said as she wrapped her arms around the other woman. Raven took in a sharp inhale and became intoxicated on the girl's lemongrass scented perfume. “It's nice to meet you,” Naomi added.

“Y-You too. Um, do you know someone by the name of Nigel Caraway?”

Naomi released her. “No, why?”

“Oh... nothing, it's just that you resemble him in your complexion and...fe-features. Did I say something wrong?” she asked when she saw Naomi's expression go from a smile to pursed lips.

“Aside from comparing me to a dude?”

“Oh, no! I didn't mean any harm, I mean, Nigel is an attractive guy but you're... gorgeous.”

She smiled.

“Oh God, don't make her head any bigger than it already is,” Violet said with a chuckle. “Let’s go. Wait- Raven, do you have a pair of Louboutins? We wear Louboutins to Neimans.”

“You’re going to Neimans?” Naomi asked.

“Not me, dearie. We!”

“I can't. I have an appointment.”

“Oh,” she said before blowing a raspberry. “Raven and I can go. Meet us there?”

“Sure.” The duo shared air kisses before Naomi reluctantly did the same to Raven. “I'll go find Nigel for you,” she joked.

Raven found it difficult to laugh. “Thanks.”

It left a cold air between the women, but when Naomi turned to leave, Raven couldn't help but watch.

“Ready?”

“Yeah but um, I don't have any Louboutins.”

Violet gasped dramatically. “But you're a fashion major! That's sacrilegious!”   

Raven shrugged.

“Girl, you've got to take more pride in your wardrobe. Especially if you want to be seen with me.”

“And Naomi?” Raven blurted before quickly pursing her lips as Violet raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Naomi too. Why?”

The woman shrugged. “She seems nice.”

“She's perfect,” Violet corrected. “I mean, we wouldn't be friends if weren't.”

“So does that mean that I'm perfect?”

There was a pause. “We're working on it. First off, you need Louboutins!”

---

After making it to the mall, Raven discreetly called her mother while Violet found her second home in the dressing room.

“Mom?”

“Hi, honey! How are you?”

“I need $1,200.”

“Oh, wow is it tuition time again already?”

“No, I need a pair of Louboutins.”

“Raven, I don't have-”

“Mom, please don't start. I just really need this money.”

“Louboutins aren't a necessity, honey.”

“Yeah, not to a dated fashion horror show like you!”

Violet cleared her throat from behind her.

“Oh...um-”

“Give me the phone,” she ordered.

Raven obliged and handed over the device.

“Hello? Mrs.Petruschin? My name is Violet Chachki and you have to understand the importance of looking good in this era. As a fashion major, your daughter is required to have the best of the best and she needs your help getting it.”

“Well, Violet, although I love my daughter, she only calls me when she wants something. Even if I had a spare $1,200 laying around, I wouldn't give it to her for anything besides her education.”

“Well that blows,” Violet said before returning the phone to the other woman. “Ooo, I love that color!” The girl rushed towards the crop tops leaving Raven to groan into her phone.

“Mommmmm. I need thissss.”

“No, Raven. You don't need $1,200 shoes.”

“Then I'll slit my fucking throat because my mother doesn't give a fuck about me or that I'll be the biggest fucking loser on campus without Louboutins!”

The girl tossed her phone to the ground and buried her face into her hands. “Fuck!”

“What is the meltdown for?” Naomi asked as she approached.

Raven quickly composed herself. “I can't afford Louboutins.”

“Well, did you ask your parents?”

“They're dead.” The girl forgot to add 'to me’ at the end of the statement but it was too late as Naomi's face fell.

“Well that's horrible. You'd think that you'd be more upset over your parents than a damn pair of Louboutins- there are bigger struggles in life than not having Louboutins!” Naomi practically shrieked.

Raven was completely taken aback. “Um, okay? Sorry?”

Naomi took a deep breath. “Sorry for blowing up at you. I always get cranky after my appointments.”

“How come?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Have you found anything that you liked?”  

“Besides the $1,200 Louboutins? Nah.”

Naomi made a face. “Well then, keep looking. It's Neimans for fucks sake,” she said before walking off.

Raven couldn't believe how rude the girl was. “Your insides don't match your outsides,” she grumbled to herself before she returned her attention to scanning the racks.

When Violet and Naomi had their arms filled with items compared to the simple earrings that Raven had picked up, the fashion duo frowned.

“We don't wear anything less than two carats,” Violet informed.

“Are you guys a goddamn cult? Why do we all have to match?”

“Because we have a standard to uphold,” she added. “We're the hottest chicks on campus and hundreds of girls want to be our third, so either comply to the rules, or leave us alone.”

“Then I'll leave you alone! You're high maintenance and just plain bitchy,” she said directly to Violet, “and you're rude!” she said as she glowered at Naomi.

Violet laughed. “I could've told you that. Thank you for the submission of your friendship application, but you don't quite meet the requirements for our company.”

Naomi grabbed a random bracelet from the display and placed it into Raven's hand. “Complimentary from the Viomi company. Put it on our tab.”

The duo cackled as they made their way to the checkout.

Raven scowled but when she looked in her hand, she saw the golden crown charm on the bracelet as a clear sign that this was the person she was meant to be with.

“I prayed to the love Gods on this,” the woman mumbled to herself. “The last person that gave you a crown wasn't for you. The next person that gives you a crown is true,” she recited. Raven quickly traded her plain earrings for a pair of two carat stunners before rushing to the checkout.

“I can help you over here,” the checkout girl at register four said.

“No, I'm with them,” Raven said proudly.

“Is that so?” Violet asked. “And what makes you think that we even want you?”

“Because I know fashion. I love fashion probably even more than you because I've lived on both sides of the spectrum: from practically being allergic to brushing my hair to buying these two carat earrings that I can barely afford. I don't just want to fit in, I want to do better for myself because I have a lot of people who don't believe in me. I need to prove them wrong.”

“Is that a good enough answer for you, Naomi?” Violet asked.

“She seems sincere to me,” the woman admitted.

Raven smiled. I knew she'd have my back.

“Fair enough,” Violet said with a shrug. “Hurry up so we can check out. “

The woman skittered towards her new friends to Violet's dismay. “We don't skip. We walk like ladies.”

“Sorry,” Raven said as she suppressed her excitement. She playfully nudged Naomi who winced. “Oh, sorry, did I hurt you?”

She shook her head and changed the subject. “I like your earrings.”

I like your braces, she could still hear Nigel say.

“Th-Thank you.”

The soft smile that Naomi offered in return could've stopped Raven's heart, but the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach were a valid replacement.

She's rough around the edges but we can fix her, Naomi thought.

After checking out, per tradition, the friends went out to eat. Raven eagerly ordered the same dishes as Naomi despite her distaste for avocados. She watched in awe as the woman stuffed a handful of French fries into her mouth. When Naomi caught her staring her cheeks flushed to same color as her ketchup.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Raven replied. “You just seem to...really love French fries.”

“I do,” she guiltily admitted.

“Naomi has a definite boner for French fries,” Violet joked but she groaned when she realized that it'd hurt the woman's feelings.

Naomi made a face.

“Oh, come on, boo. We say that all the time! You know it's not even like that so don't take it personal.”

The woman fanned her face and attempted to hold back the tears as she composed herself. “I know. Sorry, I'm just really sensitive and hormonal right now,” she sniffled.

Violet wrapped her arms around her friend. “I love you, boo bear.”

“I love you too.”

Raven was envious of the embrace. “Um, so what's going on here?”

“None of your business,” Violet snapped but Naomi shushed her.

“It's okay if she knows. She's been shopping with us therefore we know she's trustworthy.”

“Pfft, she hasn't even been sworn in yet.”

“Okay, okay,” Naomi said as she pulled the latest issue of Vogue out of her purse. “Raven, raise your right hand and place your left hand on the Bible.”

Raven chuckled but when she realized that the woman was serious, she quickly obliged.

“Raven, do you solemnly swear that you will always abide by the rules of fashion including never wearing white after Labor Day and never wearing a sports bra. Do you swear to always dress as chicly as possible and to intervene if one of your fellow fashion wives fail to do so?”

“I do,” she promised.

“Okay, now share a secret about yourself.”

Raven pursed her lips as she thought before speaking. “I lost my virginity in the back of a car.”

“O-M-G, me too,” Violet said in excitement over their common ground.

“Yeah, it was pretty amazing.”

“Okay, now I'll share a secret,” Naomi offered. “I'm trans.”

Raven's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “No way.”

The woman nodded. “I had an appointment to adjust my E shots today and the hormone boost usually makes me really hungry and kinda cranky so,” she said with a laugh. “Sorry for being a bitch.”

Raven squinted as she examined Naomi's face. “Nigel?”

Naomi frowned. “What?”

Raven shook her head of the delusion. “Nothing. You really look amazing. Um..so-”

“My boobs were a gift from my parents when I turned 18 and my genitals are none of your business but I do indeed sit when I pee.”

“That's totally not what I was going to ask.”

“It's what everyone wants to ask,” she sighed.

Raven shook her head. “I have more respect than that. I think you're a beautiful woman with a voice like angel’s wings.”

Violet rolled her eyes.

“Awww, thanks! Ya know, I think we're going to get along just fine.”

---

Raven slammed the yearbook closed before cradling it against her chest while she sobbed herself to sleep.

---

Violet groaned as she entered her home and pulled off her heels. The woman slowly made her way up the stairs, stopping to peek into her daughter's bedroom.

Clark was snoring in bed with her mask and cape on so the woman softly closed the door and made her way to her bedroom. She burst into laughter when she saw her nude husband sprawled across the bed covered in nothing but rose petals.

“Why are you laughing?!” he demanded, chuckling a little himself over the woman's snorts.

“What the hell are you doing, Matthew?”

“Keeping the spice alive!”

Violet shook her head as she made her way next to him. She eased herself to the bed and kissed her husband. The man gripped her face between his hands and attempted to make out but she groaned and pulled away.

“Babe, I'm not in the moodddd. You won't believe the day I had. Raven is missing, my feet hurt and cops threatened to taze me.”

“Cops threatened to do what?!”

“Ugh, you're missing the biggest point: my feet hurt!”

The man pushed himself out of the bed and retrieved the massage oil. He poured a generous amount into his hands before slathering it onto Violet's feet. As he rubbed them, Matt noticed the red lines that the straps of her heels had left.

“You have to stop wearing those shoes if they're going to hurt your feet.”

“Pfft, don't blame my heels. It's this baby weight. I've already gained eight pounds and it hasn't even been long enough to know the gender of the little womb crook to even curse it out.”

Matt laughed. “Then wear more comfortable shoes.”

“Comfortable shoes means orthopedic shoes, Matthew. That's never going to happen.”

“Well for what it's worth, your tits look amazing.”

“Thank you, honey bun.”

“You're welcome, my little spice cake.” He smiled and kissed her big toe.

“Freak. So what'd you and Super Clark do while I was gone? I mean, besides your lovely manicure.”

“She painted my nails then I painted hers and then we watched Supergirl and Finding Nemo before she turned into Super Clark. She ran around and played with the dogs a bit before she passed out.”

“Sounds about right,” Violet said, stifling a yawn.

“Mhmm,” Matt mumbled as he kissed the top of her foot. “I've been thinking about you since the moment you left, baby. I know it's only been a few hours but I missed you so much.” The man began a trail of kisses starting at her ankles, up to her waist then breasts then neck, stopping at her cheek when he realized that she was asleep. Fuck, he mouthed. Matt rolled out of bed and grabbed the lotion on his way to the bathroom.

---

Violet was excited to wake up to the smell of French toast. After she showered and primped herself, she descended the stairs and entered the kitchen.

“Good morning, Mommy,” Clark greeted as she gnawed on a piece of bacon.

“Good morning, my love.” She kissed her daughter's head before her husband pulled her into a kiss.

Clark covered her eyes.

“Ready for the appointment today?” he asked.

“Sure,” Violet replied as she eyeballed the food. “But I'm more ready for that French toast.”

Matt laughed. “Sit down, I'll make you a plate.”

“Do we get to see Lord Tater Tots today?” Clark asked.

Violet made a face. “Who is Lord Tater Tots?”

“The baby! That's the baby's name.”

“No, no, nooooo it's not,” Violet assured.

Clark frowned. “But that's what the baby told meee.”

“Clark, the baby doesn't speak to you,” she said sternly.

“Yes it is! And the baby wants to be called Lord Tater Tots!”

“Clark Christine Lent, who on Earth do you think you're yelling at?”

The girl folded her arms. “Nobody.”

“If you're going to be a brat today then you can stay home.”

“Noooooo!”

“Clark, go to your room,” her mother ordered.

“Hey, hey, ladies,” Matt intervened. “Chill out and eat your French toast.”

“I am chill like Iceman,” Clark said. “See my nails?”

Matt laughed. “Yes, sweetheart. I see your nails.”

Violet scowled. “Don't reward her for bad behavior, Matthew. I-” she was silenced when the man placed a piece of French toast in her mouth.

“Sshhhhh, grumpy Mommy,” he said. “It'll be okay.”

Clark giggled and her father winked.

“You two need stop ganging up on me,” Violet demanded. “It's not fair and- mmm, okay,” she hummed in satisfaction over the hash brown Matt placed in her mouth.

“When Lord Tater Tots is born, he can be on your team,” Matt joked.

“Ha-ha,” Violet said flatly as she continued to stuff her mouth.

---

Raven's mother was heartbroken yet relieved to see her daughter sleeping in the fetal position on the living room floor. It was better than her being stuffed into a gutter somewhere.

When the phone began to ring, she rushed to it and answered

“Hello, may I speak to Mr. or Mrs. Petruschin?” the man on the other end asked.

“This is Mrs. Petruschin.”

“I'm detective Velour and I was wondering if you've been in contact with your daughter, Raven recently?”

“Oh God, what has she done?”

“Nothing. Her wife has reported her missing.”

“Oh...yes, she's here. She's okay.”

“Okay, um, there was a trail of blood in the bedroom, do you have any idea where that is from? Does she have any injuries?”

“She self harms,” the woman admitted. “When she gets upset, she hurts herself.”

“Oh..so she is safe?”

“For now, yes.”

“Okay. Thank you, Mrs. Petruschin.”

“You're welcome,” the woman sighed as she hung up the phone. She made her way into the living room and gently shook her daughter awake.

“Cocksucker!” Raven blurted. “Huh? Wha-What's going on?”

“The police called. Your wife is looking for you.”

“No she isn't,” the woman grumbled as she turned on her other side. “She wants a divorce.”

“Well, she at least wants to know if you're okay.”

There was a long pause. “I'm not,” Raven quietly sniffled. “I haven't been okay for a really long time.”

---

“Miss Shea!” Clark squealed as they met the woman in the lobby of the OBGYN office.

“Hey, Clark!” she said as she embraced the girl. “How are you?”

“Good! We're here to see your baby and Lord Tater Tots!”

Shea raised an eyebrow. “Lord Tater Tots?”

“Don't ask,” Violet groaned.

“Well, yes we are, Clark. I'm so excitedddd.” She turned to the man seated next to her. “Babe, stand up. I'd like you guys to meet my boyfriend, Danny Noriega.”

The nonchalant man popped his gum. “Sup?”

Violet extended her hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Ditto,” he said flatly as he returned the gesture.

“Are you excited about your babyyy?” Clark asked him.

Danny shrugged. “I guess, yeah.”

Matt scowled. “You want to show a little more respect?” he asked, being sure to assert every ounce of his masculinity.

“What?” the other man replied practically in a slur.

“Danny just got home from his tour. He's just a little tired,” Shea defended.

“Miss Couleé?” the ultrasound technician called.

Shea grabbed her boyfriend's hand. “That's ussss.”

The sizable group followed the woman to the back room.

“So, how is this going to work?” Matt asked. “We see Shea's ultrasound then everyone goes to our ultrasound?”

“Yes,” Violet replied.

“Hop on up here,” the ultrasound technician said as she patted the medical bed. Shea obliged and eagerly lifted her top too expose her washboard abs.

“Bitch,” Violet grumbled.

Shea cackled. “With a baby in there, it won't last long.”

The technician spurted the gel onto Shea's stomach and began to smear it around with the ultrasound wand. She scanned the full circumference of the woman's belly before frowning. “Um... I don't see anything.”

Shea's heart dropped as her eyes instantly began to well up. “Wh-What? What do you mean? I-I-”

“Oh, wait I forgot to turn on the machine! Sorry about that,” she said with a laugh. “The long hours are starting to get to me.”

Matt gripped his wife's hands to stop her from hitting the technician.

“Ahhh, okay. There we are. That little nugget rightttt there is your baby.”

Shea wiped away her tears only to cry some more. “But... that's way more advanced than 4 weeks, right?”

“Yeah, that's around eight weeks.”

“Holy sparkles. I have no idea when or where this baby was conceived then. I don't keep track of my period because it's so irregular as is but- so if I didn't get pregnant in Paris I wonder where.”

“Did you cheat?” Danny asked.

The woman scoffed. “Fuck all the way off.”

“Like you? Nah, I'm good.” He turned and exited the room.

It was Violet's turn to restrain Matt but she failed to get a good grip on the man before he followed Danny out of the hospital.

“Hey, asshole! What's your problem?!”

“Besides being exhausted and not in the mood for this baby shit again? Ohhhh nothing,” he said sarcastically. “We've been through this twice already and by next week, the baby will probably be gone. I can't get emotionally invested into that shit.”

“Be emotionally invested in Shea! I don't care if this is her 80th pregnancy, that woman needs support.”

“I honestly don't think I should be taking ‘how to support Shea advice’ from you.”

Matt clenched his jaw. “Fair enough. Then do it for yourself and especially Shea, dude. She deserves it.”

---

“What do you want to name your baby, Miss Shea?”

“I'm not sure yet. All the good names like Clark are already taken,” she said as she gently poked the girl's nose.

Clark giggled and grabbed the woman's hand as they followed Violet into another room for her appointment. She settled onto the paper covered bed and reluctantly lifted her shirt.

“Introducing a busted can of biscuits.”

“I like biscuits,” Clark squeaked.

“Thanks,” Violet sighed.

When Matt and Danny returned, Matt grabbed his wife's hand while Danny wrapped his arm around the other woman. He kissed her.

“I love you. I have a good feeling about this one,” he said.

“Me too.”

“Okay, okayyyy,” Violet chirped. “All attention needs to be on me now.”

Everyone watched as the technician smoothed the ultrasound goop over the woman's stomach with the wand.

“There's your baby.”

Clark wrinkled her nose in distaste. “That's Lord Tater Tots?”

“Yes,” Matt replied.

“So… I'm the big sister to a... tadpole?”

The man cackled. “No, boo, he has to keep growing so that he can be a cute little guy.”

“Would you please stop gendering the fetus?” Violet asked. “I don't want to relive what happened last time.”

She looked at Clark as the girl dug in her nose.

“Matth-”

“I'm on it.” The man whipped out the sanitizer and told the girl to hold out her hands. As she pulled her finger out of her nose, a booger was already attached to the tip.

“Ooo, Daddy, that's a juicy one!”

Violet instantly went green in the face. “I need a can, I need a can!”

The ultrasound technician quickly offered a chuck bucket while Matt rushed his daughter out of the room.

“Clark,” he said sternly. “What did I tell you about digging in your nose...in front of Mommy?”

“But I always dig in my nose with you! We have boogie contests to see who has the biggest ones!”

“I know, I know and that's all fine, just not in front of Mommy. You know she hates it.”

Clark sighed. “I'm sorryyy.”

“It's okay, boo. Let's go get your hands washed.”

The girl wiped the booger onto the wall and held up her hands. “They look all clean to me.”

“Me too. Let's go see the baby again.”

When they returned to the room, Violet was still attempting to compose herself. “I'm not sure I want to go through with this pregnancy. Kids are disgusting.”

Shea laughed. “So are men but that didn't seem to stop us.”

Naomi breathlessly panted as she rushed into the room. “I made it. How is the ba...by?” she asked, eyes scanning the crowded room and stopping on the new couple that had seemingly taken her position. “Hi,” the woman flatly greeted.

“Naomiiii,” Violet whined. “Save me.”

“I would if I could but it looks like you've got it covered.”

“Auntie!” Clark squealed. “Look at our babyyyyyyy!”

“I can barely see from over here.”

“Oh, Naomi quit being a dork just get in here,” Violet demanded.

The woman stepped further into the room and sighed. “It's like a gas chamber in here.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Naomi, I don't feel good, okay? If you're going to keep making shady comments then just leave because I don't want to hear it. You should've gotten here on time.”

“Well I'm sorry that I've been on the phone with the police station all morning trying to track down Raven. Thank you for calling to check on me and responding to all of my messages.”

Violet whipped out her phone to check.

“Is that the one?” Naomi heard Danny whisper.

“No, that's the bitches wife,” Shea replied out loud.

Clark covered her ears while Naomi did her best to ignore the woman.

“You didn't send me anything!” Violet shouted before the notifications finally loaded. “You- oh…well, I didn't see that until now and I didn't call you because I was busy.”

“I can tell,” Naomi grumbled.

“But you have no right to come into my appointment with that attitude and kill everyone's vibe.”

“Alright, Violet, if you want me to leave because I'm just ruining this for everyone, I will,” she sniffled as she stormed out.

“Ugh, she's so dramatic.” Violet turned to her husband. “Can we get out of here now? If I don't eat something right now I'll either die or kill someone or both.”

Clark frowned. “But what about Auntie Naomiiii?”

“You can go with her, booger child. Go, go, go.”

“Yayyyy!”

Matt carried his daughter out of the room and quickly caught up with the woman in the parking lot. “Naomi, hey. Clark wants to go with you. If that's okay.”

The woman composed herself as best she could. “Of course, CC. That's always okay.” She extended her arms and pulled the girl into an embrace.

“I'm sorry for Violet,” Matt offered. “I mean, you know how she is better than anyone.”

Naomi nodded. “I do. And I can usually overlook her nonsense but it's been a really rough few days.”

“I understand. So, what's on the agenda for you two?”

“I wanna go to Peter Piper Pizza!” Clark declared.

“Then Peter Piper Pizza it is, pudding.”

“Perfect,” Matt said as he pulled the walkie talkie and list of emergency numbers from his pocket. He handed the device to Clark. “You know the drill. You can't go out of the five mile radius of the walkie talkie and this has my number, Violet's number, her pediatrician, her dentist, her-”

“I got it, Matthew,” Naomi sighed. “I've babysat for you since she was three months.”

“You can never have enough reminders,” he said. “I love you, sweetheartttt.”

“I love you too. Do you want a basket full of kisses?”

“Of course, boo! And I'll give you a basket full of hugs in return.”

Clark jumped from Naomi's arms into her father's before placing several wet kisses all over his cheeks.

“Mmmm, I love your kisses,” Matt declared as he gave his daughter a firm squeeze.

“And I love your hugs!”

Naomi was always touched by the lengthy goodbyes that the duo shared. The man reluctantly returned Clark to her arms.

“I'll see you later, boo.”

“Later, Daddy-O.”

The man laughed and watched as Naomi strapped her into the car seat that he'd chosen specifically for it's safety rating.

“Make sure that you hear the buckle click,” he reminded. “That's how you know it's secure.”

“I know, Matthew.”

“And give the straps a little tug to ensure that it's tight enough around her chest- but not too tight.”

“I knowwww, Matthewwww,” she groaned.

“Okay, okay. Bye, boo!”

“Byeeee!”

Naomi closed the door.

“Is the child lock on?”

“Yes!”

The man defensively raised his hands.

Naomi rushed to the driver's side of her car so that Matt wouldn't have time to give her a physical exam or a breathalyzer to ensure that she was stable enough to be driving like the last time she took Clark out.

“Double check your mirrors!” he shouted.

The woman ignored him as she started the car and took off. Matt swiftly jotted down the license plate and made a mental note of what the woman was wearing. He pressed the button on his walkie talkie.

“Testing. Testing. Daddy to Clark. Daddy to Clark. Can you hear me? Over.”

A response came in a few seconds later. “No, I can't hear you,” she said with a giggle.

He smiled. “Have fun, sweetheart.” Matt returned the device to his pocket before returning inside of the building.

“Matthew!” Violet snarled when she met him in the lobby. “I am hungry!”

“Okay, Mama bear. What do you wanna eat?”

“I don't know but I want food! Now!” Violet stormed out of the building.

Matt was actually excited about the hormonal journey that he was bound to go on with his wife throughout their second pregnancy.  

“Good luck,” a woman seated in one of the lobby chairs offered.

“I don't need it,” he said cheekily before rushing after the woman that was now sobbing by the car. “Baby, why are you crying?”

“Because! You don't care about feeding me! You're too busy worried about- hell, I don't even know what you're worried about but it sure as hell isn't feeding your wife!”

“I'm about to feed you right now, okay?” he calmly responded as if he was negotiating with a terrorist. “Just get in the car and I'll take you wherever you want to go to eat.”

Violet continued to cry as she snatched the car door open and climbed inside. Matt grinned and rushed to the driver's side before starting the car and speeding off.

---

“Go, Auntie Naomi, go!” Clark cheered the woman on. She sat in her lap and made sound effects as she followed the bad guys on the video game in the high speed chase. “Catch those bad guys so we can get more tickets!”

“I'm tryinggg.” Naomi shot out the bank robbers back tire, effectively ending the chase.

“Yayyyyy!” Clark cheered as the machine began to spurt out tickets. She snatched them up.

“What do you want to do next?”

“Pizza! Then prizes!”

“Sounds good.”

Clark skipped over to their table and plunged into her slice of melted cheese deliciousness while Naomi mindlessly nibbled on the crust of her slice.

“I thought I'd find you guys here.”

The sound of her wife's voice made Naomi's blood curdle. Out of sheer fear from the trauma,  Clark couldn't even make eye contact with the woman as she climbed into her aunt's lap and buried her face into the warm curve of her arm for protection.

Naomi took in Raven's disheveled appearance and there was something so off about the woman that she barely recognized her. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“If you didn't want to be found, you shouldn't have tagged your location in the picture you posted.”

“Raven, just leave, okay? You're scaring Clark.”

“Leave? Oh, so you want me to leave? I thought you were soooo concerned about me, wifey!”

Clark whimpered into the sleeve of Naomi's blouse.

“Yes! You're seriously pathetic right now if you're going to yell at me in front of Clark at Peter Piper Pizza!”

Raven suddenly felt dozens of children's eyes fixated on her as they tried to figure out what was going on. When she heard Clark's soft sobs, she knew that she'd hit rock bottom.

“I'm so sorry,” the woman sniffled as she rushed out of the building.

Naomi pulled Clark up so that she could cradle the weeping girl. “Sshhhh, CC, it's okay.”

“Does Auntie Raven want to hurt us?” she asked through tears. It broke Naomi's heart.

“No, sweetheart. Auntie Raven doesn't want to hurt us.”

“Okay,” Clark said skeptically.

“Finish your pizza, baby then we'll trade in your tickets for prizes.”

The girl wiped her eyes and returned to her spot in the booth. When she began to pick at her food, Naomi knew that she'd lost her appetite.

“Me too, Clark,” she softly exhaled. “Me too.”

---

The only thing that the wide eyed Matt could compare Violet to was Shaggy or even Scooby-Doo. She slurped, belched and didn't mind that food was flying everywhere as she ate. The woman was like a refugee from a foreign country where food was scarce.

“Did you just get out of prison?” her husband teased.

“Fuck you,” she replied as she spooned the pot roast into her mouth. “Mmm!” the woman screeched with full cheeks as a waitress walked by with food. Violet forced down what was already in her mouth so that she could speak. “Give me that cheesecake.”

“This is for another table. I could add a slice of cheesecake to your ord-”

“No, I want that slice right there.”

“Ma'am, I-”

“Give me the fucking cheesecake!” Violet shrieked.

The girl flinched and quickly obliged before rushing off to contemplate her life's choices and to retrieve another slice of the cheesecake. Matt pushed himself out of his seat and followed her. “I’m really sorry. She's pregnant,” he said as he palmed the waitress a $100 bill.

Moments later when he returned to the table the only thing left of the cheesecake were crumbs on the plate. And even those didn't last long as Violet held up the saucer and tapped the side, allowing the graham cracker bits to fall into her mouth.

Matt burst into laughter. “You are amazing.” The man watched in awe as the woman continued to pile it in. She even went after his food when she asked if he was going to finish his burger and fries. He gave them up without protest.

Violet ate a few bites before burping. “I'm done. I want the rest to go.”

The man obliged and after paying the bill that he wasn't surprised had reached over $100, he helped his wife out of her seat. For the first time, he noticed that her ass seemed to be filling out in a way that he'd never seen before.

Damn, he mouthed. When did baby get back? Since they were in public, he didn't want to disrespect her by giving it a squeeze. But when they made it into the car, he couldn't help but pull her into a kiss with more than sweet intentions behind it.

“Matthewwww,” she groaned as she pulled away. “Not here. Not in a fucking restaurant parking lot. I'm classier than that.”

“You are?” he teased.

It earned him a swat on the arm. “Fineee.” The man threw the car into gear and slammed on the gas until they were home.

The couple was barely pass the threshold when Matt pulled his wife into a kiss while he caressed her newly found curves. Violet's hands loosened the man's belt while he worked on the straps of the confusing designer top. Just as he finally found success in getting his wife naked, Clark's voice rang out over the walkie talkie.

“Daddyyyyy,” she chirped. “I won lots of prizesss!”

“Ignore her,” Violet ordered as she kissed her husband's neck.

“I can't ignore her. Look how excited she sounds.”

“She's always excited.”

“Yes, because I always respond!”

“Daddy! Are you there?! You said you'd always answer the walkie stalkie!”

Violet groaned. “Alright.” The woman cupped his dick through the thin fabric of his boxers. “Meet me in the bedroom when you're finished,” she whispered before sauntering up the stairs.

Matt fought the urge to watch because he didn't want the image of a nude woman embedded in his brain as he answered to his daughter.

“Hey, boo. Of course I'm here. What kind of prizes did you get?”  

“You'll just have to wait and see tomorrowwww.”

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean tomorrow?”

“I'm spending the night at Auntie Naomi's.”

“Clark, nobody asked me if you could stay,” he said sternly. “And I never even went over the overnight procedures with her.”

“Well, I want to stay so I can protect her.”

“Protect her from what?”

“Evil forcessss.”

Matt exhaled. “And Auntie Naomi said it's okay for you to stay?”

“Yes, Daddy!” Clark shouted in exasperation. “Stop acting brand new! She always says it's okay for me to stay!”

Matt cackled. “Okay, sweetheart. I'll call you before bedtime, alright?”

“I don't have a bedtime! Go away, evil doer! Go awayyyy!”

“I love youuuu.”

Clark didn't respond but he knew that the girl heard him and that was most important. He dashed up the stairs and burst into his bedroom.

“Did somebody order multiple orgasms?!” he asked only to find his wife passed out in her blanket cocoon. “No,” the man gasped. “Nooo.” He rushed over to her and attempted to kiss her awake but the woman groaned and pushed his face away. “Fuck my life,” Matt grumbled as he stormed towards the bathroom, grabbing the nearly empty bottle of lotion on his way in.

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