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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years

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that makes four.

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PART 4

Tristan had slapped his menu shut before you could even sit down. He’d been begging you to try a new place in Encino with him, you figured it was a good excuse to get Zoey out of the house and to let Maeve and CeCe duke it out in Shelli and Irv’s backyard instead of yours.

It was all work talk at first, he offered an update on a meeting you missed to drop off Maeve at a friend’s and Zoey sucked down a glass of wine promising to pump and dump before the night ended.

But now your plates were in front of you and you twirled spaghetti around your fork when she asked: “How’s your pool boy?” You stared up at her, unimpressed.

“He’s not my pool boy, and he’s fine.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows across the table. “Would you let Harry Styles be your pool boy?”

“Can we not talk about him like this, please?”

“Oh come on,” Tristan pulled a face. “If you’re not going to sleep with him at least let us fantasize.”

You must have twitched, a quick glance in Zoey’s direction or a quiver of your lip. Zoey leaned in and her voice was serious. “What was that?”

“What? Nothing.”

“What do you mean what was that?” Tristan asked.

“She made a weird face when you said that.”

“No I didn’t,” you defended. “I just don’t like talking about him in public, especially like this.”

“Bullshit,” Zoey laughed, leaned back in her chair. “What are you not telling us? Did you see him shirtless again?”

You let out a breath, wiped at your mouth and wondered if telling them would be the biggest mistake of your life. You couldn’t even get the words out before Zoey leaned in.

“You had sex with him?!” her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, Tristan’s fork clanked against his plate when his jaw dropped open.

You’d made it a whole week, almost. You pushed the thoughts down and brushed them under the metaphorical work rug. The body wash prototypes were in, you were booking models to do a photoshoot, video shoot, everything was getting lined up for the rollout in another few weeks. You didn’t have time to tell them about something silly and stupid and maybe a part of you didn’t want to fill them in because you were afraid they’d burst your bubble. It’ll never work out, what happens when his house is ready, he has a tour to go on.

“Be quiet,” you looked around and worried if anyone had overheard Tristan’s not-so-subtle name drop. “It’s not a big deal, okay? It’s not like it’s gonna be a regular thing.”

Tristan pulled his head back, offended by your words. “You had sex with him and you’re not going to make that a regular thing? Have you seen him?”

“Yes,” you made a face at Tristan. “I have seen him.”

“You are going to hit and quit Harry Styles?” Zoey leaned in and said his name much more quietly now.

“Well,” you dropped their gaze for a second, reluctant to be honest with them in fear of their reaction. “It’s happened once, and then we kissed once but CeCe came down, but she didn’t see anything. I’m just too old to be hooking up with a twenty-four year old.”

“Wait, okay, slow down. When did this happen?” Zoey asked.

“After my birthday dinner,” you shrugged. “We came home, had wine, the girls were out.”

“And when did you make out with him aside from that night?”

“The next night. And we didn’t make out, it was barely even open-mouthed.”

“Ew,” Tristan grimaced.

Zoey snapped to get your attention. “So twenty-four hours after you had sex, you kissed him?”

You made a face at her, unsure where she was going with it. You hadn’t been clocking or documenting your sexual encounters. “I don’t know, probably.”

“This is straight out of a trashy romance book written for middle aged women,” Tristan leaned back in his seat and took a pull from his glass of rosé. “I mean that in, like, a nice way.”

“Okay,” Zoey leaned forward. “So, nothing has happened since a week ago, then?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Just those times. And I don’t think anything should happen again.”

They both groaned at the same time, Zoey’s shoulders sunk and she rolled her eyes. “You deserve to have sex with a hot guy.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Even if he’s younger than you.”

“I don’t want to traumatize my children.”

“Well you don’t have to have sex in front of them,” Tristan made a goofy face and you waved him off.

Zoey snorted out a laugh but you ignored their immaturity.

“I mean that having Harry here is already probably confusing for them, right? Their dad leaves, their grandpa dies, now we have some stranger in our house and he’s playing with them in the backyard and--”

“Being more of a dad to them than Luke ever was?”

Zoey’s words brought a sigh out from between your lips. “Exactly.”

“Having a positive male role model is good for them,” Tristan said.

“Sure,” you nodded. “But what about when Harry moves out? He’ll just be another man that will leave them. They’ll be super fucked up.”

Tristan reached forward and took your hand in his. “Hey--it’s more about the fact that they have you and they have other people who love them. Who cares if their idea of a family isn’t the stereotypic, heterosexual norm?”

“I know,” you relented. “I just don’t want them to be poorly adjusted.”

“Okay, that sounds like something an obnoxious prep school guidance counselor would say to you,” Zoey eyed you with skepticism.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was Maeve’s teacher.”

“Okay, fuck that teacher!” Tristan nodded. “Your kids are adjusting, and that’s because of how good of a mom you are to them. And mommy deserves a pool boy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if his words were worthy of an eye-roll. Zoey tried not to let wine drip from her nose after a snort escaped between sips.

“Not my pool boy!” You giggled.

“Which is good,” Tristan nodded, his tone completely serious. “That would be so cliché even Nora Roberts wouldn’t write it.”

Slumber parties always made you anxious. They were one of those things that made you question how on earth people trusted you to watch a group of children when sometimes, you still felt like one yourself.

Maeve’s 11th birthday party was no exception. Five other girls danced around your living room and CeCe sat at the counter while you iced cupcakes. Her little face was scrunched into a pout so intensely that it almost made you giggle.

“You alright?” You asked her, dish towel over your shoulder when she let out another sigh.

“Just wish I could play with them,” she held her palms towards the sky in exasperation, reaching for a container of sprinkles when you let out a laugh.

“You get to go for ice cream with Uncle Jeff, remember? You’re gonna go to the beach, too, I think.”

You’d been trying to bribe her all week: a new tutu, a new doll, anything she wanted just to make her give up and accept the fact that her older sister didn’t want her at her slumber party.

And you couldn’t blame either of them. Of course Maeve didn’t want her younger (and very loud, dramatic, and demanding) younger sister trailing behind all night. But, on the other hand, of course CeCe felt left out when she saw all of the older girls arrive with their sleeping bags and birthday gifts.

She sighed again, your conversation interrupted by a ringing from your cell phone on the counter beside her.

“Uncle Jeff?”

She was right, you reached for the phone and held it up with your shoulder, hoping the laughter from the living room wouldn’t travel it’s way into the speaker.

“Hi--are you here?”

“Y/N, I am so sorry to do this--”

“Oh god, Jeff, no!”

“I just got called into the office because one of my artists apparently just posted some stupid shit on the internet--isn’t there someone else who can hang out with CeCe? Where’s Tristan?”

“I don’t know where he is, but I doubt he’d be thrilled to play dress up or skip through a park.”

“Zoey?”

You could hear traffic through his line, his karma for backing out at the last minute was having to sit on the 405. “She has a ten-week-old infant, Jeffrey.”

“Well where’s Harry? Can’t he pitch in?”

You let out a groan, CeCe had taken to pouring sprinkles into her hand and lapping them up with her tongue.

Harry was upstairs, hiding away from the girl gang currently singing karaoke and sipping on juice boxes. He had the day off and had dipped out in the afternoon to meet a friend for lunch. You tried to mind your own business--he could come and go as he pleased and just because you had slept with him once didn’t give you the right to suddenly start asking questions about his plans.

But the universe pitied you, apparently, because right when you told Jeff you’d figure it out and hung up on him aggressively, Harry pranced down the stairs and headed for the fridge.

“How’s it going down here?” He reached for a juice box, crisp apple, and fumbled with the straw when he turned to face you.

“Everyone is alive and nothing is broken,” you scanned the counter, another batch of cupcakes still in the oven with 10 minutes to go.

With the straw now between his lips, he raised his eyebrows. “Bar’s that low, huh?”

“Well, your friend Jeffrey just bailed on watching CeCe and going for ice cream.”

She was blissfully unaware of the change of plans, still licking sprinkles out of her palm, but now swiveled around on the stool to watch the girls jump around in the other room.

“I can take her,” he shrugged nonchalantly, ran a hand through his hair when you stared at him for a second.

If traffic was Jeff’s karma, Harry must have been yours.

“Are you serious? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “CeCe? What do you say we do ice cream and pizza?”

She turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes lit up. “Pepperoni?” She asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied to her like it was a crazy question.

“Is Uncle Jeff coming?”

“He’s not,” You informed her, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re alright to go with Harry?”

You didn’t mean to make it awkward, but mom mode kicked in and you realized CeCe had never spent time alone with Harry except maybe in the backyard.

“Yeah!” She hopped down from the stool and grinned up at him. “Can I get a milkshake?”

Harry looked over to you and when you nodded, he held out his hand. “As many as you want.”

“That’s not what I said,” you called after him, watching as he led her over to the back door. He plucked his keys off the hook on the wall and smiled at you over his shoulder. “Please don’t be out late, text me when you get where you’re going!”

CeCe shouted a bye mommy!!!! before they disappeared into the driveway. A sudden raise in your pulse had you questioning what type of mother lets their 6-year-old get in the car with a pop star who’s probably hounded by paparazzi and maybe even doing cocaine on the weekends.

You picked up your phone and it rang four times before Zoey answered. “I need you to talk me off the ledge.”

“What ledge?”

The timer beeped and you gloved up to retrieve the rest of the cupcakes. “I’m apparently a psychopath because I just let Harry take CeCe for pizza and ice cream.”

You could tell she held back a laugh. “Why does that make you a psychopath?”

“Because he’s a stranger! What if he never comes back with her? What if he gets chased by paparazzi and CeCe is the next Princess Diana?!” The thought shuttered through your bones, a shiver down your spine when Zoey cleared her throat.

“Okay, so, as a mom, I totally get that. But I also think you’re freaking out too much.”

The cupcake tin rattled onto the granite. “How?!”

“He’s not a stranger, he’s been living with you guys for like, over a month now.”

You thought about it for a second. Two weeks turned into a few more, four weeks slipped by easily. What felt like it was going to be a blip on the radar now felt like a totally normal thing: dinners with him as the fourth seat and texts to him in the middle of the day asking if there was anything he was in the mood for.

“I just can’t believe I trust him enough to do that, I guess.”

“Y/N, he’s a good guy,” she laughed. “He likes your kids and he definitely likes you.”

“We’re not going there,” you said. “I have a house full of ten-year-olds and cupcakes to frost.”

“Okay, well, you’re not a psychopath. And there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for him.”

“Zoey! You are starting to sound like the psychopath!”

“I’m alright with that,” laughter through the phone when you told her you had to go. Love you, see you later, pinch Benny’s cheeks for me.

You were swept up in the excitement of the night. Your own pizza was delivered before 8pm, a movie turned on by 9pm. They decorated cupcakes at the dining room table and proceeded to eat more than they could fit in their tummies.

Maeve was in heaven, opened presents when you snapped pictures on your phone. Harry had texted to let you know they’d stop at Shelli and Irv’s before heading home. If CeCe came home in the middle of presents, she’d probably break down right there.

So when you heard the alarm signal a new entry, you hoped CeCe was too tired to argue with you about sleeping in her own room and not in Maeve’s with the rest of them. Your legs were folded beneath you on the couch, noise in the kitchen when Harry rounded the corner with CeCe asleep on his shoulder.

You stood up, eyebrows high when he smirked in your direction. “She’s out cold,” he laughed. “Fell right asleep on the way home.”

“It’s like a ten minute drive from their house,” you said, opening your arms to take her. “Sorry, here.”

“I can bring her up...just lead the way,” he motioned with his head for you to go first up the stairs. He followed you down the hall and to CeCe’s room, pink walls and a plush carpet underneath her twin-sized bed that still seemed too big for her.

He put her down when you flipped on a nightlight, watched when you tugged the duvet over her and kissed her on the forehead. You sighed when you stood up straight beside him, voice quiet. “I’m not waking her up to brush her teeth cause she’ll freak out and want to be included in the party. Am I a bad mom?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, smirked down at you quickly before looking back to her. “You’re a great mom.”

You elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “You have to say that.”

“I do?”

“I’m your landlord,” you laughed, leading him back into the hallway.

“I thought you were my friend?”

A sigh, the darkness a cover for your confusion and your fluttering heart beat. “Yeah, that too.”

He was quiet for a second, if it weren’t for the bedroom of kids down the hall you’d pull him into you despite better judgment. He stared down at you with a dimpled smile, but you took a step back.

“Thanks for taking her, and hanging out with her. You really didn’t have to.”

“I had fun,” he reassured you. “We got a pizza and ate in a park near Westwood Hills, then got ice cream, visited with Shelli and Irv,” he listed it off like it brought him as much joy as it did her.

“Hey, not to be weird or anything, but--how’s your house coming?”

He sensed the shift in the air too, but he didn’t know that it came from a place of fear. A question you had to ask: this was temporary, this wasn’t real, this was just a convenient set up and you couldn’t lose sight of that.

“Oh, yeah--I’m going over on Sunday to see it. Apparently there are still issues with the plumbing that have to be updated. They said it might be a few more weeks.”

“Okay, I just didn’t know.”

“Yeah, is that okay? I can try to find somewhere to stay if you need me out?”

“No,” you said it quickly. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Okay,” he said, his eyes still on yours. He reached forward to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I like staying here with you guys.”

“...I like it too.”

“Mom?” Maeve’s head poked out of her bedroom. “Hayley spilled soda on the carpet!”

He stepped back from you quickly, like his reflexes were getting better each time. You laughed at his sudden movement, “coming!”

He smiled down at you and let out an exaggerated sigh once Maeve’s door was slammed shut and the music was back on, a magnetic pull between your chests that maybe he felt too. “Hayley, Hayley, Hayley.”

But again, a rush of uncertainty and self-doubt made you grateful for the interruption, your stomach weaving itself in knots when you stared at your ceiling fan and hoped that sleep would come.

Work picked up in the next week, Tristan was in your office most days with spreadsheets and graphs and to-do lists that made you feel like you needed a margarita at 2pm. On Wednesday Harry made dinner and CeCe had a meltdown when you forced her to take a bath.

Friday night entailed dinner at Shelli and Irv’s, the girls and Harry and Jeff too. You stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand, Shelli watched as their chef sautéed something through steam. When Jeff pulled Harry away to show him a new guitar Irv had been gifted, you ignored the smile on Shelli’s face.

“How are things going?”

“Fine,” you said, casually and calm and cool. “How are you?”

“Y/N,” she smiled. “Does Jeffrey know?”

“Know what?”

“About you and Harry?”

“No,” you told her quickly. “There’s nothing to know, alright? We were drunk, it was not a big deal.”

“Alright,” she held up a hand, effectively resigning when she sipped her Pinot Grigio, a disappointed sigh before she asked: “How are the girls holding up?”

You sighed, unsure if she’d really drop it. You told her about Maeve’s birthday party and caught her up on the body wash debut. Deadlines were quickly approaching, the launch party was being scheduled and production was full steam ahead.

You almost thought you’d make it through the rest of the night without any drama--no more mention of Harry or the happenings between you. But eventually he and Jeff found their way back to the kitchen and you hoped that no one noticed how close Harry stood to you.

Jeff was in the middle of filling you and Shelli in on Harry’s album plans: they were wrapping up production and soon they’d announce the release date, his excitement cut off by a shout from the backyard.

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice was shrill and desperate as it rang through the house. She let out a loud sob and when you looked up, you saw her clutching her elbow with a new grass stain on her shirt. She was fine, it was one of those moments where she thought the world was ending but everyone else knew getting knocked over by her sister wouldn’t kill her.

“She’s fine,” Maeve rolled her eyes, a quick look down to CeCe who’s eyes were already filled with tears.

“No I’m not!” she screamed back at her sister.

You looked to Shelli with an exasperated look, set your glass of wine down on the counter. Before you could make any movement, though, Harry’s hand hovered on the small of your back. “I’ll go, enjoy the wine. She’s fine.”

He was right, there was no question that CeCe would survive her scraped elbow and bruised ego. He moved towards the backyard and you were frozen in place when Jeff’s forehead wrinkled.

“What was that?” he asked, eyebrows strung together like tea lights once Harry was out of earshot.

“I don’t know--what do you mean?”

You looked over at Harry, now on the ground in front of CeCe who’s wails were much quieter. She wiped at her wet eyes, a little laugh escaped her lips when Harry brushed the grass off of her elbow and cracked a joke.

“Well, he seems pretty good with them,” Jeff leaned against the counter, the sliding door providing a perfect view as CeCe stood up and raced back towards Maeve.

“Yeah, I mean, he is.”

“He also touched your back in a funny way.”

Shelli raised her eyebrows and sipped at her wine again.

“And now my mom is making a weird face,” Jeff’s eyes narrowed when he looked at you. “Are you--is there, like, something going--”

“No,” you said quickly, a finger pointed at Shelli and another pointed at Jeff. “Do not say anything in front of the girls.”

Shelli stifled a laugh but managed to look incredibly innocent at the same time.

“Oh my god!” Jeff said this with a noise of shock, eyes wide when he looked between you and Shelli, then back out to the yard where Harry laughed with Irv. “Oh my god, and you knew?”

Shelli shrugged her shoulders, a don’t blame me look crossed her face when you took a swig of wine to calm the pounding of your heart.

Jeff had always been protective and caring and like a brother. Not in a weird way, not in the you can’t date my friends way. Just in the sense that he wanted to know who you were hooking up with and he’d been encouraging you relentlessly to stop picking assholes ever since you filed for divorce.

But this was different, this was a friend of his and a client of his. It was someone that his entire family knew and this was probably the worst choice of rebound.

“Please relax,” you said this with a look of warning in his direction. “I will explain to you what your lunatic mother is smirking about but you have about fifteen seconds to wipe the look of shock off your face before he comes back in here.”

“She’s fine,” Harry waved a hand once he was back in the kitchen. “And what look of shock are we wiping off of our faces?” The dimple was there again, the corner of his mouth pulled up and he scanned all three of you for any sort of information.

“Just that you are so good with the girls,” Jeff covered for you, a confident nod when he hoped Harry would believe him.

“That’s surprising to you?” Harry pulled his head back, an obvious look of mock offense. “I’m great with children. They love me.”

Maeve came in from the fading light, out of breath from running around with whatever ball they’d gotten their hands on. “Who loves you?”

“Kids,” Jeff replied for him.

“Oh,” Maeve said. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” You looked down at her, unsure if she was agreeing or just voicing that she understood.

She shrugged, plucked a chicken skewer from a dish in front of Shelli. “I mean, I like having him around.”

Harry was practically tickled pink. “Thank you, Maeve.” He turned to rub this in Jeff’s face. “See?”

“He cooks well, plays outside with us, definitely funnier than mom,” Maeve kept listing things off, pulling laughter from the rest of the crew.

“Maeve!” You whined. “I’m funny!”

“You’re like, sometimes funny.”

“Sometimes funny is better than never funny,” Harry nodded in your direction, an attempt to soften the blow.

CeCe had wandered in behind her sister, she picked at the scrape on her elbow until you called her attention. “CeCe--do you think mommy’s funny?”

“Mmmm,” the thought on it for a second, put her finger to her chin and scrunched up her nose. “Sort of.”

Jeff let out a big laugh at that, Harry tried to stifle one and you dismissed the jabs. “Okay, well, it’s not like anyone here is a comedian.”

“Harry’s funny,” CeCe said with a smile. “He reads books in silly voices.”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up at that again, amused and surprised by the fact that Harry was in on the bedtime routine. But it was infrequent, sometimes CeCe would beg for more time outside or another thirty minutes of TV.

If the tears got aggressive or the tantrum became too much, she perked up pretty quickly if Harry offered to read with her. It was way more exciting than reading with you, Maeve had explained.

After showering Harry with compliments, the girls were excited to sit on Shelli and Irv’s patio. Pink lemonade and a delicious dinner, though neither of them would even so much as take a bit of your salad.

They ran around some more while you sipped wine, Jeff and Harry had been talked into a two versus two soccer match and Irv laughed his head off when Maeve actually scored on Jeff. Darkness came and CeCe crawled into your lap, eyelids getting heavy until you buckled her into the backseat.

You’d taken one car, CeCe’s booster seat was too clunky to move over to Harry’s so you drove and felt slightly embarrassed about the crayons and coloring books scattered on the floor of the backseat.

“Mom, can I have another sleepover this weekend?”

“With who?”

“All of the girls from last weekend.”

“Honey, no, that was a big party for your birthday.”

“I’m aware,” she shot back quickly. “But we all had so much fun and we wouldn’t be as loud as we were last time.”

“I said no, Maeve. You can do something with your friends if you want but we’re not doing another sleepover right now.”

You’d been hesitant about it in the first place. A group of ten and eleven-year-olds? With Harry in the house? It felt like a recipe for disaster and aside from a few excited stares when they were first dropped off, you all escaped relatively unscathed.

You worried at first about the whispers from other moms--she’s letting a twenty-four year-old live with her children?--but you soon realized that they were almost more excited about sneaking a glimpse of Harry than their daughters were.

“You’re so annoying,” she quipped from the back. “You never let me do anything fun.”

Harry’s lips twitched up in a tiny smirk, a sideways glance in your direction. You’d already told him how awkward it felt to discipline them with him right there, a glass of wine in the kitchen one night and he teased you about your frustrated mom voice.

“Maeve--don’t be rude. You just had a birthday party and now you want another, basically.”

“No, I want to have the same girls over. It’s not my birthday so it’s not a birthday party.”

A left turn into the driveway. “But you want me to order pizza and make cupcakes and you want to drink a bunch of soda again?”

“Yes.”

You pulled into the garage and cut the engine, turning to look at her. “Maeve, sweetie, I love you. But no.”

She let out a huff and shoved the door open, she typed in the entry code and slammed the door to the house before the rest of you could even climb out.

“The drama,” CeCe shook her head, tired steps towards the house.

“The drama is right,” you told her with a laugh. “Go wash up and I’ll come up in a few, okay?”

She scampered up the steps, you dropped your keys on the counter inside and then turned to look at him. “Do you have a second?”

He nodded, leaned on the counter. “What’s up?”

You didn't know if it was a good idea, but you'd spent enough morning drives to school lecturing about how honest is the best policy, so you figured you'd give it a shot.

“Uh, well--Jeff may or may not be suspicious about you and...me.”

Using the phrase made you nervous, like he’d laugh and think it was stupid. You and me.

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows arched. “Did you--why did that come up?”

“Well you went to handle my crying child, which is--you know--”

He laughed a little, “too boyfriendy of me?”

Your heartbeat picked up in pace, your face felt hot and it suddenly felt like he was watching you too closely.

“No--I don’t know--you touched my back and he just asked what was happening.”

He deflated at that, hung his head low for a second and then looked up. “Oh, I--uh--I’m really sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” You felt bad, that wasn’t the message you were trying to convey. If anything, you wanted to give him the out and the okay that he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to step into your family like some hero for you or your daughters. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I just--I don’t know where you are at, I guess.”

“And now Jeff is asking questions,” he laughed, a nod like he knew where you were going with it.

There was no label necessary. It wasn’t that type of thing, you knew that. “That’s what you walked in on after CeCe got hurt.”

Another nod, like the puzzle pieces were fitting into place. “Right. Got it. Was he--how did he seem? Did you tell him that we--”

“He put it together,” you cut him off, again careful of the words used around the girls even though they were upstairs and--by the sound of it--bickering in the bathroom. “But he was fine with it. I just think we need to be careful, you know. The girls...and this is temporary, and--”

“Absolutely.”

“So, you know, just--”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence. “I should go tuck them in.” You turned on your feet and headed for the stairs before he could reply, desperate to get out of the situation out of fear of having to find more words to string together in a messy jumble of emotions.

Another slammed door from Maeve when you reached the top of the stairs. You knocked twice. “Can I come in, please?”

“No!”

“Maeve,” you leaned against the doorframe. Harry came up and offered an awkward smile. “Please let me talk to you.”

“I’m not talking to you!” She shouted.

Harry came over and knocked. “Maeve? It’s Harry--can I come in?”

Silence for a second, her footsteps were audible on the wood floor. The door opened a crack, she peered out with narrowed eyes. “Fine--but not her.”

You looked over at Harry, unsure of his game plan but also fed up with the theatrics and the overreaction. He shrugged his shoulders half-apologetically, a smirk in your direction before he slipped into the room.

Did you stay and listen? Was it weird? What would he even say to her?

You decided against it, headed for your own bedroom and tugged on pajamas after you flicked on CeCe’s night light and kissed her goodnight. At least only one of them was being dramatic today.

Five minutes passed, then ten. You tried not to look at the clock and focused instead on a book Zoey had told you was a must read.

Eventually there was a knock on your door, Harry pushed it open and smiled. “Do you want some intel?”

“Duh,” you said. “Come in.”

He walked forward and sat on your bed, a sigh when he brought his eyes to yours again. “Well, she said you’re annoying again.”

“Of course.”

“She’s just grumpy. Said Hayley wanted to have a sleepover this weekend because it would be better at her house.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Some 5th grade rivalry.”

“Classic, really.”

You laughed. “Was she okay talking to you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows low on his forehead. “Opened right up.”

“Well, we do know she likes you more.”

He rolled his eyes. “She just likes that I’m not you.”

“Feels like that’s the same thing.”

Quiet for a moment when he angled towards you, scanned your face with his eyes.

“I guess I’ll go say goodnight.”

“Oh, I tucked her in.”

Your mouth tugged into a smirk. “You what?”

“She said she didn’t want you to come in.”

“So you tucked her in?”

He let out a laugh, explained the process like it should have been obvious. “Yeah--pulled up the blanket. Patted her on the head. She said she brushed her teeth.”

You leaned back against the headboard, the same buzzing feeling in your chest took flight when he asked: “why is it so shocking to everyone that I’m good with them?”

It slipped out before you could think of the possible consequences. “Because you’re young.”

“I’m not that young.”

“And Luke was just--not like that. He was pretty disinterested after CeCe was born.” You hoped this was enough of a redirection.

“You’re really caught up on my age, aren’t you?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows and offered a look that said: bullshit. When he didn’t speak, you cracked a joke.

“Or...you are not hung up enough on how old I am.”

“Why should I care how old you are?”

“Cause you’ve had sex with me and you’re living in my house.”

“Both of those things I am aware of. And feel really good about both of them.”

You let out a laugh at his nonchalance, folded your arms over your chest when he stood up. “You’re something else.”

“I’m not,” you disagreed.

“I think you are,” he nodded, leaned closer to you and offered a challenging glare. His hair was messy, he’d been running around in the backyard with them at Shelli and Irv’s, a few glasses of wine in him seemed to loosen him right up to the point that he was ready to slide tackle your six-year-old.

He watched you for a second, almost like he was waiting for you to stop him. You didn’t, though, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as it looked like he wanted to close to the distance between your chests.

Instead of telling him you shouldn’t, instead of telling him that the girls were down the hall and this was risky, you pulled him on top of you, tugged him by the t-shirt until he flopped down on your bed with a laugh against your lips.

He lifted himself up after a clumsy moment, looked down at you and smirked.

“What?” You asked playfully.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on by someone in my whole life.”

His words circled around you, pulled your body up to melt into his when his hand cupped your face. He laced his fingers through the hair along your neck, the warmth from his body made your pulse rise with each second.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this when they’re home?”

If the dimples on his cheeks weren’t enough, if the way his tattoos littered his skin wasn’t enough, if the look in his eyes right now on top of you was not enough to create a full-on mom fantasy in your head, the way he talked about your daughters was.

“Yeah,” you tugged him back against your mouth, felt the way your hips tilted against his without any thought. His hands moved to your wrists, holding them in place when he trailed his lips down your jaw, down your neck, pressing kisses in a line along your collarbone.

His hands were warm when they grazed your hips, connecting with skin beneath the fabric of your shirt. You grasped for the hem of his and tugged it over his head in a quick motion, eager to reconnect and feel his skin against yours.

He tasted like wine and smelled like summer, yanked your panties down to your ankles and used his fingers to pull quiet gasps from you like no one had ever before. He held onto your headboard and thrusted into you after you begged: please, please fuck me.

S’probably my favorite thing to do, he said.

The lights were long off and when your heart beats settled and you wiped sweat from your forehead, he laced his fingers between yours.

“Does Jeff want to kill me?”

“No,” you giggled, turned on your side to get a better look at him. The moon through the window illuminated his nose, his eyebrows, the specks of light green in his eyes as they devoured you. “But I’m sure you’ll get a talking to.”

“Should I not talk to him about it?”

You knew what he was asking, you knew he really meant what am I supposed to tell him? What does this mean?

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t know what he should say or how you should address any of this, because at the end of the day you were a mom and a business owner and he was eight years your junior. He had an album to finish and tour and you knew how that worked.

You watched your dad’s busy lifestyle pull his marriage apart at the seams. Late nights, dinner parties, too much coke in the 80s before you were born and all of those signs pointed in one direction: this would never last.

It couldn’t last, nothing about the equation made sense. Harry + you = fling, rebound, a hook up or friends with benefits type situation that would eventually fade into a memory when he went on tour or when he got the call: your house is finished!

You didn’t have to answer him, though, the pattering of feet in the hallway as a little voice shouted mommy! had you shoving Harry out of bed and onto the floor with a thud before CeCe could push the double doors open.

“Mommy! I had a bad dream!”

“Hi, honey, oh, it’s okay,” you were upright in bed and welcoming her into your arms when Harry grimaced in the dark.

He mouthed a few swear words as you held CeCe, squishing her face into your shoulder to keep her eyes from landing on Harry. You gestured at him wildly with your free hand, ordering him to duck down and remain unseen.

“It was just a dream,” you told her, “you’re okay. Do you want me to walk you back to bed?”

“No,” she cried out quickly. “Can I sleep here?”

You hesitated, then nodded and looked at Harry in the dark. “Of course, yes, you can fall asleep here and then I’ll bring you back to your room.”

“Okay,” she said, the steadiness of her voice returning when she crawled out of your lap and to the spot where Harry had just been. She tugged at the comforters, pushed the pillow in different directions before she let her head rest atop it.

She let out a sigh, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and soon enough Harry poked his head up to look at you with wide eyes as you rubbed CeCe’s back.

You held up a finger to your mouth, gave him a threatening glare when he bit back a laugh. You rolled your eyes--it wasn’t funny. She almost walked in on the two of you and while she’d already endured some traumatic things this year, seeing her mom hooking up with the pop star from down the hall would be sure to take the cake.

When Harry caught your gaze again, you smirked, he giggled, clamped a hand over his mouth and watched you for a second.

“Be quiet!”

“You’re the one talking,” he laughed.

“Well she’s asleep now, but we can’t bring her back yet or she’ll wake up.”

“How long do we have to sit like this?”

“A while,” you told him with certainty. “This is called parenting.”

But he did, he sat on the floor on the side of the bed, watched you watch her and eventually, he picked her up from the mattress and followed you down the hall to her room. She softened into him, head on his shoulder and arms around his neck. The sight of it made you want to replay the earlier scene in your head over and over.

She didn’t stir, a few heavy sighs when you pulled the comforter back up to her shoulders, and once the door was shut behind you both, you smirked up at him.

“I think you should go back to your room.”

“Really? After all of that?”

“After almost getting caught by my six-year-old? Yes.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully, crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, but maybe we can do that again at some point and have it end differently.”

You nodded. “I think that sounds doable.”

He leaned forward, kissed you quickly, and then turned to head for his own room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry came home from his house tour with good and bad news. The plumbing was fixed, which sped up their timeline, and yet the painters and interior decorator had gotten behind because of it, pushing the timeline out a few weeks.

You weren’t sure which part was good and which part was bad, because by now you were having trouble imagining what your house would feel like without him in it.

You got the news when he strolled in, athletic shorts and a baseball hat on his head when Jeff clapped him on the back. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously, reached into the fridge for a juice box. “I live here…”

“Oh, I know you live here.”

“Hello, hi,” you waved at Jeff. “Please do not be weird.”

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Harry offered you a fake-apologetic look.

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Jeff mocked him. “Actually, I know how to be cool and not weird about the fact that my childhood best friend and my adult best friend-slash-artist are now, you know, involved.”

Your stomach did a somersault at his wording, a quick look in Harry’s direction, sure that he would deny the accusation or play it all down.

You found it hard to believe that Harry would be in support of labeling this as anything. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be tied to you with any sort of label or phrasing or word?

“Moving on,” Harry said with a nod. “Are we down to meet up with Tom and Sam tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and we have to do that phone call on Tuesday to go over tour dates.”

Maeve ran in then, a smile on her face when she looked up at Harry. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I learned a new chord on the guitar. By myself.”

“You did?” He acted way more excited about it than he likely was.

Jeff smiled and then told Maeve: “If you learn enough chords maybe you can be his guitarist.”

“Really?!” She beamed.

“No,” you shook your head.

“Of course you would say that.”

“Maeve--you’re a kid, you can’t go on tour.”

“She’s right,” Harry said with a sweet smile, “You’re a bit too young for life on the road.”

“I’m eleven now, though!”

“I know! And very mature for eleven,” he complimented. “I’ll tell you what. You can for sure come visit and come back stage and maybe even bring a friend if your mother lets you.”

She looked to you quickly, excitement in her eyes when they all waited for your response. “Yeah--we can go at some point...see a show or something.”

“Hayley is going to die, oh my god!” She squealed with delight and then moved to sit at a stool beside Jeff.

He had half a sandwich on a plate, one he picked up on his way over for a boring Sunday afternoon of lounging by the pool. Maeve reached for a chip from the bag in front of him.

“By the way, mom, she invited me over Wednesday after school to work on a project, so can you bring me?”

“I have to bring CeCe to dance, sweetie.”

“Well I need you to bring me to the store to get supplies for this stupid poster-board thing we have to make! And Hayley’s mom said she had a question about Luna--something about a moisturizer or something.”

“I can take CeCe to dance,” Harry shrugged, almost like an onlooker in the room. “S’not a big a deal.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeff and Maeve crunched on chips between you, watching the exchange.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll just need to put her booster seat in my car.”

“And bring her a snack for after--she’s always cranky and hungry.”

He laughed, “I can manage that.”

“What would we do without you, Harry?” Maeve asked, a smile on her face.

Jeff put his chin in his hands, teasing. “Yeah, what would we do without you?”

“No one would get anywhere, people would seriously be missing out on my chicken tacos, and this house would be a lot less fun to live in.”

Maeve nodded in agreement, another chip stolen from Jeff. “True, true, and true.”

A few nights later it dawned on you that Maeve and Harry were as close as ever, spending evenings in your dad’s old office while Maeve tried to wrap her arms around a guitar long enough to strum a few chords.

CeCe didn’t seem to feel too left out, she was more than happy to be an audience for Maeve when she’d come running into the living room: Harry taught me a G chord!

On Tuesday night after school it was CeCe’s idea to go for pizza, she chirped about it in the backseat the entire way home, and after learning that the body wash production was behind schedule, you weren’t in the mood to cook.

You took Harry’s car--showed him how to strap the booster seat in and make sure it wouldn’t budge. He wore a hat and sunglasses which both girls found hilarious, but to you it was almost disheartening. What did it mean for him to be seen out with your family?

He sat beside CeCe and cut her pizza into tiny bites so it would cool off, Maeve sipped Mountain Dew from a straw and filled you in on the latest with Hayley. This week was going well, though Hayley said something annoying in the cafeteria.

It felt normal, not weird for him to be sitting across from you, his feet against yours beneath the table and a smirk in your direction every once in a while.

Both Tristan and Zoey had been dying to hear more details. It slipped out one day in the office that okay...maybe it wasn’t just a one time thing, and now the group chat you had with them was blowing up every day.

They were excited for you, rooting for your comeback and rebound and eager for you to just admit that there was something there. But you weren’t able to do that, especially not when everything in your heart wanted to.

By the time you’d all finished eating, he dipped out the back to pull the car around front. You pointed at Maeve and told her to watch CeCe while you went up to the counter to pay for the pizza.

The woman behind the register smiled when you approached. Long acrylic nails, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes made it obvious that she could have been your mother.

“We had one large plain and one small with pepperoni,” you told her.

“Oh, you’re all set, sweetie, your boyfriend paid on his way out.”

Your head pulled back in surprise. “Oh--he’s--we’re not,”

She let out a laugh at your hesitance. “He was just as taken back when I told him he had a beautiful family--said they're not his, though."

You forced a laugh, if only to match the humor in her voice when you turned on your heels to head back to your booth. The thoughts started spinning when Maeve and CeCe climbed into the back of Harry’s car.

He smiled at you when you slid in, patted you on the thigh before he turned around to make sure both girls were settled--Maeve clicked CeCe’s buckle into place and then he put the car into gear.

Sleeping with Harry was mostly meaningless, right? He was attractive and living in your house and clearly you both got something out of it. Convenient, easy, fun. Most of your brain had you convinced that there’d never be any more to it. There was no way that Harry would be interested in sticking around: two kids, a business to run. You didn’t exactly come with no strings attached.

And he corrected the woman too--not my kids, not my family, not my wife, not my anything. Had she settled on the next step down when she called him your boyfriend, or had he offered the label to avoid an awkward encounter?

It felt immature, your heart beating with urgency as you thought about it the whole way home, beads of sweat along your hairline and not from the warm weather. He sensed it, eyed you from behind his sunglasses when he parked in the driveway. Maeve and CeCe raced to the backyard, leaving the two of you alone.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, all good,” you offered a small smile, the same response you gave to one of the girls if they caught you on a bad day.

He followed you inside, kept his eyes trained on you when you dropped your purse on the counter. “What?”

“You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” you lied again. What were you supposed to say? The woman behind the register at the pizza place is making me question the relationship we have and what it means?

You weren’t 17. You were 32. He was 24. All of these numbers swirled in your head when he took a few steps closer to you, eyes out the window quickly to make sure neither of the girls were watching you through the sliding doors.

He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, lips turned down when he looked over your face. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know,” you caught his wrist and held on for a second, like if you let go he’d disappear and take everything between the two of you with him. You closed your eyes, knew better but still said: “the woman behind the counter called you my boyfriend.”

He let out a laugh, unaware that your words were actually a confession. “She called you my wife, said the girls were cute. I told her I couldn’t take credit.”

“Yeah,” you forced another smile.

“Is that--are you, did that bother you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” he said, eyes still on you like he wasn’t quite sure where your head was at. He pressed a confusing kiss to your forehead but then said something about calling his sister. You checked work emails and night faded into morning like it always did, no matter how uncertain life was, you always had that.

The next afternoon you brought Maeve to Hayley’s, dropped her off with glue sticks and markers and a plethora of project supplies. A yoga class after that, had her home and with dinner on the stove by 6pm.

Eventually, CeCe burst through the door with a smile on her face. Her pink tutu was around her waist, her legs clad in light pink tights and her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head. “I had the greatest time at ballet!”

You turned around in the kitchen, eager to hear about her day. “You did?”

“I did,” she nodded confidently. Harry came in the front door behind her, sunglasses on his face and CeCe’s unicorn backpack in hand. Maeve was sat at the counter with a pencil, growing angrier with fractions by the minute.

“Why’s that?”

“We danced to a fun song, and we played a fun game, and everyone loved Harry!”

Your eyebrows rose at that, eyes caught his when he lifted the sunglasses. “They did?”

“Moms, not the six-year-olds.”

This caught Maeve’s attention--she sounded almost disgusted. “Moms?”

“I guess ballet pick-up is typically a mom thing?”

You shrugged. “I mean--I don’t see a lot of dads there, so yeah.”

CeCe shimmied out of her tutu and then climbed up to a stool beside Maeve. Harry walked to hang her backpack on a hook by the backdoor, you questioned if it was even worth asking.

“Were they, like, hitting on you?”

“I mean, not really.”

“Not really?”

He walked over to the island and leaned on it, the dimple in his left cheek let you know he liked the hint of jealousy in your voice. “Maybe a little.”

Dinner simmered on the stove, evening sun brought a glow to the kitchen that made his eyes even more green than usual. When you didn’t reply he broke your gaze, let out a sigh and said: “I’m going to shower before dinner, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you nodded quickly, embarrassed by the silliness of your question. Of course the moms were hitting on him, of course they were intrigued by his presence and of course they couldn’t help but say hi or even ask for a photo. It shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.

He was up the stairs and out of sight quickly, CeCe picked up an extra pencil of Maeve’s and started doodling on her agenda book. You pushed sautéed veggies around in a frying pan and pretended that all of this was normal.

“Hey mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Harry?”

You turned around quickly, Maeve’s eyes were inquisitive but not judgmental.

“Do I like Harry? Of course--he’s nice.”

“No, I mean do you like like Harry?”

CeCe didn’t seem too interested in your answer, she hummed to herself and kicked her feet back and forth. Maeve, though, waited patiently while you tried to piece together words that wouldn’t make the roof blow off of your house.

“Harry and I are friends, sweetie.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You let out a forced laugh. “What is making you ask this?”

“You seemed jealous about the other moms.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you defended. Were you really about to get into it with your eleven-year-old? Would you really defend yourself and make this the hill on which you'd die?

She watched you for a second, looked back down at the worksheet in front of her. “You seemed jealous.”

You were thankful for the fact that she wasn’t making any eye contact now. You let out a sigh and decided that not responding was your best option. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, had it been that obvious? Was she old enough to pick up on the undertones of your relationship?

You turned back to the stove, watched the vegetables sizzle in the pan as your mind started to cave in on itself. All of this was getting out of control, right? First the woman yesterday and the dizziness that overtook you when she said the word boyfriend. Now Maeve sitting at the counter with a curiosity in her that you couldn’t really blame her for.

The doorbell rang, CeCe’s head popped up in excitement. “Who is that?!”

“I don’t know,” you said. She hopped off her stool and took off the door as you followed behind her. You hadn’t planned on a visit from Jeff, maybe Tristan needed last minute approval on a product.

But when CeCe yanked the door open with both hands and an excited smile on her face, you didn’t expect to see Luke, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised high.

“Daddy!”

“Hi sweetie,” he knelt down on one knee, wrapped his arms around her when Maeve made a noise of excitement before rushing over. She crashed into him, pushing her way into their hug.

“What are you doing here?” she asked excitedly.

“I wanted to visit, I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a shrug, eyes glancing up to you.

It was bullshit, he’d always been good at talking his way out of things or coming up with an explanation, smile sweet and words even sweeter. He backed away from them when they let go, stood back up and smiled at you, a quick nod in greeting.

“How’ve you been?”

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thestarsoutofyourwindow · 3 years

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To Survive this Pain, Part 1 - 11th Doctor x Reader

A/n: I'm not dead, I promise! I've just been struggling to finish off fics. If this seems slightly rushed it's because I just needed to finish something. It's exam season (it's extra-long now due to a certain virus), but they're over in a few weeks. I've been trying to stretch into writing for different Doctors, and in my new formats, but good old Eleven is easiest to write. Inbox is still open :)

Word Count: 2596

Summary: After the "death" of Amy and Rory, the Doctor is devastated. After deciding to isolate himself on a cloud, he leaves you with the Paternoster Gang till Strax informs you the Doctor wants to see you.

Warnings: Angst, Cold Doctor, Doctor is slightly ooc due to guilt, mild self-inflicted Injury, Bouts of Rage.

I should try to post part two as soon as possible.

This is my first ever Full Story (GIF isn't mine).

Your shoes splashed through puddles on the cobblestone road, on your way down to the park of which you knew he would be.

You hadn't heard from him in a short while now, but Jenny and Vastra frequently advising you to pay him a visit had been getting to you. That's why, when Strax brought you the news that the Doctor wanted to see you, you leapt at the opportunity.

You were worried, you'll admit. It was clear as day that losing Amy and Rory had him tearing himself to pieces. It was only a matter of time before he sent you off, too. Before he abandoned you.

Weaving around the quiet Victorian streets, the sun still yet to grace the sky, you had arrived at the park. Looking around the odd trees that decorated the perimeter, you picked out the tree that you knew had the elusive ladder directly above it. You stepped over the beds of wilting flowers that lined the pathways into the overgrown grass.

After completing the feat of reaching the ladders, consisting of either jumping or using your umbrella handle, you had successfully pulled the ladder down far enough to climb onto.

Making your way up the ice-cold rungs, you take a moment to consider why the Doctor called for you in the first place.

It made little sense to you. After all, the Doctor had been avoiding you for the better part of two months now; what had changed?

The Doctor planning on taking you home became all the more likely in your mind as you began to climb the spiral staircase, shivering as the late-autumn air nipped at your skin. Winter was slowly breaking through the remaining life.

If you weren't so hung up on adjusting to the less-than-ideal state of Victorian England, you would've had more time to worry about the Doctor. However, he was so hung up with his own issues, and you with yours, that he only crossed your mind when you were settling down for the night.

Of course, it hurt that you too. Never seeing Amy and Rory again. You did your best to hold onto the fact that they lived a happy life together.

A life that you knew could never have. You wish you could say goodbye to them, but you chose to carry the loss with you.

You were exhausted, it was safe to say. Spending your days helping out the Paternoster Gang with new cases that come in was certainly frustrating, especially when you had to avoid so much. Milk, green dyes, dodgy stairs, aliens and gas leaks. Nothing was safe in Victorian times.

Not that you didn't enjoy the company, mind you. Jenny always provided conversation, and paired with Vastra, there were plenty of investigations to be had. You just missed them all, sometimes.

The Doctor had become such a vital figure in your life that it didn't seem right for him to not be there. When you had both lost Donna, you were there for each other, and even then, he was a wreck. You had spent those first two months together, and you had never felt closer to someone before. At first, you couldn't admit it to yourself, but after six years, you knew that was when you started falling for him.

There was so much you didn't understand about him, yet so much he had begun to explain. You had seen and done so much together, places that surprised and scared the both of you. In distant worlds and ancient times, there lay so many memories that you had forgotten. Just another thing consumed by time.

A simple flip through your diaries would confirm that through all that, you admired him: mattering not which of his faces. You had accepted from the start that he was an unobtainable desire, no matter how you looked at it.

He was old, alien and a danger-magnet. Many considered the Doctor to be a God.

It upset you to know that the Doctor could never love you, not in the way you love him. Not in the way that he had shown you what love could be, what it should be. But that was what you had to expect from the Doctor.

You assumed that consistently losing those he loved must hurt immensely. You also imagine losing someone he could spend the rest of his lives with would leave another unfixable hole in his heart.

So it made sense to you that the Doctor would never willingly fall for a human. Your short life-spans and weak bodies meant that so much as a single bullet could rob you of your life.

The thought of what a state he must've been in at that very moment was disturbing, to say the least. You had seen the Doctor angry before, and it was not an easy sight.

His heart held so much pain, so much guilt.

After what felt like a good three minutes, you stepped off the staircase. Your shoes now emerged in a cloud, which could somehow keep you from plummeting into the streets below. You felt surprisingly light, almost like you were standing in a pit of feathers, yet some odd force kept you from losing your balance. Plucking your key out of your pocket, you press your hand against the door of the TARDIS. You unlock the door, pulling the key from the lock and stepping into the Console room.

You called out for him. After listening for a moment, you concluded that the Doctor must've been elsewhere.

The TARDIS was a glum sight. Most of the orange lights were dimmed: if functioning at all. A few even had fist-holes in them. There were what looked like hundreds of books cluttering the console, all of varying topics: The Time War, Time Lord Psychology, the History of the Universe, Earth History, Greatest War Losses. Some had bookmarks; others he had clearly tabbed.

Paper littered the glass flooring, each scribbled in several handwritings. They all clearly varied in ages and sizes, some a muddy brown, others a vivid white. Quite a lot were in small clusters of pages, as though they were ripped from a book. You picked up one of the sheets to inspect closer, and your heart nearly broke.

Each page had a sort of date in the corner, which you quickly realised must've been an approximation of the Doctor's age at the time. They were diary entries, ripped out and thrown in what you assumed to be a fit of rage.

The Doctors' tweed jacket had slipped off the console and onto the floor. The contents of his pockets spilt out onto the floor.

You leant to pick it up, grimacing at just how much he was carrying around. Throwing the jacket over the railing, you avoided stepping on any more pieces of paper.

"Tidy some of this, will you?" You addressed the TARDIS, a hand on the edge of the controls, "I'll go talk to him, where is he?" The TARDIS clicked and hummed in response, showing you a blueprint on the monitor, "The Library? Okay then."

Darting out of the Console Room, you attempt to discover the library as soon as possible. You vaguely remembered the three places the library is most likely to crop up. You went from there. Fortunately for you, you didn't have to go far before the library appeared.

You had always felt as though the library was too empty. Four stories of shelves filled with books, all visible from the ground floor, the rows of shelves created a sort of maze of titles and colours. The Doctor must've owned every single book in the galaxy, judging by the sheer size. Not to mention the several dozen or so empty seats. The library could easily hold thousands of people at once, yet there is rarely ever so much as a whisper.

You had a fair clue as to why the Doctor would be hiding away in there.

There the Doctor was, turned away from the door, in an intricately decorated armchair. You could just about make out the top of his head. You loomed behind him awkwardly, unsure or not if he was aware of your presence.

"Doctor?" You faltered. His head perked up slightly, and the Doctor strained out a hum. He stood up, his arms tiredly hanging at his sides after he stretched. It checked out with your fit of rage theory. The Doctor walked up to you, and you only then noticed how fraught he was.

His expression was tired, eyes sunken and lips pressed into a thin line. His shirt was unkempt: the sleeves were torn slightly. It also appeared burnt or covered in dust. His hands were covered in dust too.

However, you noticed that his right hand had quite a few cuts and gashes, which all seeped out orange-tinted blood.

His greenish-brown eyes search yours for a moment as a tear rolls down his cheek. He inhales deeply, nodding to himself.

"Look, I..." The Doctor paused, again glancing over into your eyes, "I'm sorry- I can't, I can't do this," He took in a trembling gasp for air, "I don't want to, but I can't keep doing this. I'm sick of it. I can't keep losing people. I'm so sick of saving the universe." Unsure of what to you, you reach a hand out to the Doctors. He puts a hand on top of yours, keeping the other, bloodier fist at his side. You brush your thumb over his knuckles, his hand hot against yours. The Doctor continues, "Everyone, everyone who travels with me leaves, or dies, and I'm always alone again. Alone and in pain. I can't keep doing this..."

Smiling sadly, you nod, "I understand," You looked back up at the Doctor, "If you called me here to convince me to go home-"

"Take you home?" The Doctor's voice cracked, "I could never. That'd be just as bad as losing you. I need you."

Oh, the Doctor have his way of making you feel important at the worst moments. Your insides bubbled giddily, but you refused to show it. Instead, you ignored it to the best of your ability; what he was saying was important.

Your attention had fallen back down to his hand, and it looked considerably worse than you initially thought. Pieces of glass dug into his knuckles, the skin seeming gnarled by the force of the oncoming storm, "Doctor, your hand,"

"It's fine." The Doctor seethed, staring numbly at you, "I'm not human, it's not going to kill me."

You wanted to protest. However, given the Doctor's already fragile temperament, you weren't going to push it. Instead, after an instant of silence, you asked a simple question, "How have you been, then?"

The Doctor blinked, giving an answer careful thought. He had an earnest grimace as he finally spoke, "Furious."

"I can see, that" You hum, putting equal thought into how you should approach your response, "What do you think you're going to do, now?"

"Stay here. I'm not getting involved anymore." The Doctor spat, pulling his hand away from yours, turning to sit down, "I don't want to care."

"That's fair enough." You reassure. You didn't like the sound of the Doctor retiring too much, but you respected his choice. If he didn't want to save the world, he doesn't have to. You hoped that, in his chosen conditions, he would heal.

You vowed to yourself at that moment that you'd do everything you could to help him. Starting with his physical injuries.

You heard the armchair squeak softly as the Doctor flopped back against it, picking up a book from the coffee table and beginning to read. You headed back over to the door and grabbed the small medkit from the bracket on the wall. You paced back to the Doctor, pulling a pouffe from a few feet away to sit on. The Doctor glared daggers at you, exhaling sharply and holding his arm out in your general direction. You thanked him meekly, beginning to remove the sharp, reinforced glass shards from his knuckles.

If you were new to travelling with the Doctor, you thought that seeing this might hurt you more. However, six years of travelling was more than enough for the two of you to be used to this sort of treatment. He never seemed to care much about his physical health, more about yours. That often ended up in you worrying about the Doctor, not that you minded. You supposed it worked out, as you both fussed over each other. If the Doctor's previous face saw how he was acting, you were sure he'd have a fit. Not that he mattered, as he was still a part of the man in front of you.

You could tell by the downtrodden way he pretended to read his book, staring a hole through it, that something was bothering him.

"Are you scared of me?" The Doctor halted, voice brittle. He had taken note of how delicate you were and had drawn it up to a fear that the Doctor would lash out at you.

"No," You shushed, focusing on removing the glass from his hands.

"You don't sound sure,"

"I am." You reassured bluntly, "I'm just being careful. I don't want to hurt you more."

"I'm not hurt! You don't need to fuss over me,"

You lifted your eyebrows slightly, "There's nothing wrong with feeling, Doctor. As you said yourself, feelings enhance life." The Doctor exhaled petulantly, eyes back on his book. "But not even you can be in pain forever."

"What is my alternative?" The Doctor strangled out, "I forget? I do something selfish?"

You grimace as you remove the last small shard from his pinky. You take out a clean cloth and some water, dampening the rag as you speak, "You're forced to survive this pain, this guilt, but you will grow from it. You make mistakes so that you learn from them."

You gently clear the blood from his hands and start to apply mild pressure to the deeper wounds. The two of you continued in silence, the Doctor only occasionally removing his hand to turn the page.

He was such a different person to the goofball front you were used to. He was melancholic. However, you would see a small amount of your Doctor bubbling to the surface. He would occasionally chuckle at the book he was reading or draw circles on your palm as you held his hand still. It provided you with enough comfort to know that you weren't wasting your time.

You finished up your last-minute medical care with a bandage around his hand. You closed the medkit.

"Alright, I'm just going to go restock this, then I'll go tidy up the paper in the console room,"

"Oh- right that... Must've been a mess. I'm sorry,"

"It's okay." You smiled pleasantly, "Come find me if you need me, okay? I won't be far,"

The Doctor caught your hand in his, just as you were about to leave, he tugged at your arm. You leant down, and the Doctor pressed a short kiss to your cheek. You countered with a kiss of your own on the middle of his forehead. Just like you used to, back with his previous incarnation.

As you wandered off, you were oblivious as to what that gesture meant. Was it a thank you? Another apology? Was it even platonic?

From behind you, you swore that he said something you thought you'd never hear the Doctor say.

#eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #the doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #angst #part 1 #crying #slight fluff

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pain-in-the-butler · 3 years

Text

The time has come once again

The Bloodbath

“I’m simply one hell of a butler” says Sebastian as he starts cleaning as usual

Okay so Agni’s taking no prisoners

Work Nerd, Science Nerd, and Jock Nerd team up to form the Nerd Trifecta

Team One Brain Cell joins up with Phipps, who is quite possibly their only chance for survival

Ran-Mao remembers how Harcourt beat everyone in the unfortunately deleted round and said “Not in my backyard”

So far, everyone else has simply run away unscathed or grabbed a weapon they won’t use because the game doesn’t record weapons. Rip Tanaka

Day 1

Ran-Mao bringing the canon energy by adding a second weapon to her arsenal

Phipps somehow always turns into Team Dad during these, so I’m glad to see he’s finding time for his favorite hobbies

Undertaker up to his usual Sneaky Antics

It hasn’t even been twelve hours yet. Kind of impressive honestly

Considering Harcourt lost his mace, I’ll just assume the attack Grell “escaped” from was the vicious stabbing of his trim little schoolboy fingernails

Bad vibes

It appears that Lau also brought his canon game

Sebastian in the most recent chapters be like

I’ve actually never had this event come up before and it has to happen between two of the more innocent characters in the series;;;; god Lizzie you deserve better even in the Hunger Games Simulator

Where’s a Safety Nerd when you need one

What’s better than this? Guys bein dudes

This is probably what happened after Ciel left Weston

Sebastian will take care of this for ya, huh bud

Other events:

Agni practices his archery

Wolfram goes fishing

Othello finds a cave

Soma goes ‘splorin

Edward goes huntin

Day 1′s Deaths: Tanaka, Sieglinde, Lizzie, and Macmillan. Someday one of the ladies will win

Night 1

Butler slumber party in the woods, BYOYM (bring your own young master)

It takes a lot of energy to be this blond

I’m happy for her :)

Yeah I’ll bet you probably do Lau

A tonal shift so abrupt I got mental whiplash

Can we go back to when Grell was looking at the sky pls

Thought about science too hard. Got a concussion

Thought about Ciel dying too hard. Got an infection

Aww dad :( Hope you caught some fish tho

Looks like Harcourt won’t be winning this one, gang

I stg the hunger games simulator is misogynist because the ladies always DIE /j

Ran-Mao is hopefully here to prove the previous statement wrong

Other events:

Bard gets a hatchet

Undertaker also passes out from exhaustion

R!Ciel goes to sleep in a tree

Day 2

Oh you five are SO going in my burn book for this. It’s what Grell would’ve wanted

Ahaha just like in the real manga... right guys (;

Idk about you but I’m rooting for her

I don’t think the simulator could’ve picked four people who were less likely to team up than this

I would too if I saw my best friend was palling around with an opium dealer, a grim reaper with a lawn mower, and another grim reaper that the first grim reaper doesn’t like

Other events:

Othello chases Wolfram

That’s the only other event actually

That means today we lost O!Ciel, Mey-Rin, Harcourt, and Grell. ffs, I hope Ran-Mao kills all of you

Night 2

I’ve missed you, rare pair simulator

The “unknown sponsor” was Undertaker and the “fresh food” was O!Ciel

Confirmed: Lau doesn’t get high off his own supply

Once again a ceasefire between the strong hungry boys is formed

Girl, you don’t have to do that

“Did you kill Ciel?” Sebastian asks

“No that was William,” Othello says

Sebastian punches a tree so hard that it combusts. “God damn. Fuck” Sebastian says

Wolfram just realized I put him in the Hunger Games simulator

Other events:

Phipps thinks about “Are you winning son”

Undertaker gazes at space

Ronald becomes Lost Ronald

Soma passes out

Bard gets some water

Day 3

Damn Agni who haven’t you flirted with

Finny sees that Bard has water and thinks Bard cooked it himself, so he wants no part of that (might be burnt)

What did he even have that was worth stealing? A fish?

Well I can tell you who isn’t creating that smoke: Lau

“What’s worse than two young masters? No young masters. Now get over here and make a contract”

Everything about this sentence is a fever dream

Other events:

Undertaker decides he wants a slingy shot too

Edward chases Dad I mean Phipps

Othello gets some ouchies from picking berries

Night 3

When your young master dies, you just get an infection apparently

damn Finny’s playing hardball

I don’t think anything bad has actually happened to Bard yet. It’s just been a grand frolic the whole time

I barely remember reading the first Hunger Games but Ran-Mao’s the Foxface of this journey: she deserves to win and I just know she’ll die in the stupidest way possible

Sebastian’s like a cat that can’t reach the bird it wants to attack, so it attacks the nearest other thing instead. Poor Dad

Two white-haired anime boys and a not-white-haired anime boy talk about who will die tomorrow. Anime doesn’t exist yet so the white-haired anime boys don’t know their hair color automatically spells their doom

Other events:

Edward starts a fire, which means he’s capable of smoking opium

Ronald gets some medical supplies

Othello gets a hatchet

R!Ciel thinks about winning

Lau gets an entire explosive, but he won’t be able to light it, so no it’s no big deal

Day 4

In Soviet Hunger Games, white-haired anime boy kills you

But why murder someone when you could just mess with them

Other events:

Grey scares Bard

Finny goes hunting

Night 4

Have you four even killed anyone yet

The list of “people who didn’t start the manor fire and also don’t smoke opium” now consists of Lau and R!Ciel

The mood is too light now. Someone needs to die and it better not be Ran-Mao

At last, Father Phipps has chosen his son for this round

Agni gushes about all the hot guys he’s simultaneously in love with, giving Ran-Mao a clearer idea of who’s still alive

Day 5

Girl, it’s about time, go claim some trophies

Finny’s easily got the longest kill streak and it’s a little unnerving

Father Phipps finds a new secret fishing hole

Othello doesn’t

Lau continues to put in all the efforts of a kindergarten bully

Oh no. He’s a yandere

Other events:

Sebastian fucks around and explores the arena

Bard fucks around and hunts for tributes

Undertaker fucks around and sleeps

R!Ciel fucks around and picks flowers

Night 5

I’ve never met anyone who ships Sebastian/Undertaker but I know you’re out there

Okay, maybe these four are even less likely to team up than Phipps, Ronald, Undertaker, and Lau

Edward sees I’m making jokes about people who build fires and stays hidden

Day 6

Canonically, that is the only way R!Ciel would win a fight, so

I probably could have predicted this

I hope these are the faces they made when it happened

The “unknown sponsor” is R!Ciel and the “fresh food” is an ear that fell off his own head

I’m not sure if I should be concerned or unsurprised that Bard’s Hunger Games life is more chill than his canon life

the “unknown sponsor” was the fish and the “clean water” was “fish water”

Other events:

Ran-Mao gets her third weapon that she doesn’t want to use, which is a hatchet

Finny finds a river

Agni practices archery again, but he doesn’t kill anyone because he wants this to go on forever

Night 6

Ran-Mao I beg you please. Release us from this purgatory of mediocrity

And suddenly we’re back to canon Bard

I guess not everything can be canon

Other events:

Both Agni and Phipps pass out from exhaustion. It’s 2:50 a.m. so I should really be taking a page from their book, but unfortunately everyone refuses to die

The Feast

Finny has been a stone cold killer this entire match, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the girl I wanted to win would get eliminated by him, but it still hurts ✌️😔

If you cheat on Othello, he will overpower you, killing you

Everyone else decided not to go to the Feast. Honestly, I don’t remember what the Feast is, but everyone who did go either murdered someone or got murdered, so I guess that was probably a good call

Day 7

I’ve had enough of this dude

Jesus Finny I can’t wait to see how many kills you got, I feel like you and Agni were the only two who took anyone down

Bard, Undertaker, Sebastian, and Phipps all hunt for other tributes but they’re useless and don’t kill anyone

Arena Event: Volcano Eruption

In one fell swoop, we lose Sebastian, Undertaker, R!Ciel, and Finny, jeez. But... that means it comes down to.............

FATHER PHIPPS VS. BARD

FATHER PHIPPS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wow... Unlike his manga counterpart, this boy coasted the whole time and won... He basically went on vacation and he actually won... But then again, it’s Hunger Games Simulator and nothing is sacred

Well I hope you learned a valuable lesson today. I hope you did at some point before you read my post, because you sure as hell learned nothing from this. Thank you for wasting precious minutes of your life with me 😏

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji hunger games simulator

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themafia-terrapins · 3 years

Text

Into the night.

A/N: You should read the post before this to get an understanding of this AU. Fair warning, this is pretty long. Enjoy! 💚

Disclaimer: mention of child abuse ahead. Be warned!

Cold. Merciless. Dangerous. Mysterious.

They were the only words that many used to describe the Hamato Clan. No one wanted to mess with them in fear of what they would do, countless stories were told of those who had double crossed them and in result, hadn’t lived to see the next day. The most feared gang caught in a dark and ruthless world of crime, violence, blood and lust. Others wanted their wealth and power but not everything is what it seemed to be.

The cold breeze hit Leonardo’s face, as he gulped down air quickly into his lungs. He was sure those horrid nightmares would have stopped, it had been almost 11 years for God’s sake. Cursing under his breath, he knocked down the tub of medication which rattled on the floor. The view of New York was beautiful from all the way up here and as frantically as he tried to focus on it, those poisonous thoughts blazed through his mind and he had no power to control it.

“Father please don’t leave again” The young teen cried, trailing helplessly after the rat who swore angrily. Being only 13, he wasn’t able to grab those supplies that his brothers needed. They were forced to rely on Splinter but he would hardly help them. They were lucky if he even brought down the bare necessities for them to survive on.

“How many times do I have to tell you leave me alone?! Enough!” Splinter growled, loosening his tie as he made his way to the sewers steps. But Leo had to try for his brothers, he couldn’t look at their pain anymore. He couldn’t go back empty handed, to witness Raphael put up a brave front despite actively bleeding and bruised practically everywhere on his frail body. He couldn’t see Donnie on the verge of another panic attack because he didn’t know how to fix them. He couldn’t bear to see Mikey trying to hold it all together but breaking down in the bathroom , when he thought nobody was listening because he couldn’t live in this nightmare.

“R-Raph is hurt and we don’t have any more bandages” Leo spoke timidly, trying to sound clear and confident but his voice trembled. Splinter stood still and the turtle could already smell the sour whiskey from his clothes. It had been a bad day, he presumed. Whiskey was only drunk whenever a loss was incurred. And that usually meant he wouldn’t be home for days, much o the turtle’s pleasure.

“What have I said about speaking back?!” Splinter bellowed, his arm whacking Leo backwards until his shell hit the tunnel. The side of his shell had already been damaged due to constantly training day and night to perfect the routine Splinter had set them. But an audible crack had been heard and a small gasp left his lips, already seeing a trickle of blood roll down his skin staining the previous bandages. He hadn’t even time to register the pain until Splinter loomed over his body, his eyes black and dangerous.

“Father I’m-” Leo’s breath hitched in his throat, tears prickling his eyes painfully watching his hand raise slowly. ‘Not again, please not again’

“You’re absolutely hopeless, you hear me?!” Again Splinter punched the turtle, laughing each time when the terrapin recoiled in pain. Leonardo held his tongue, scared to further anger the drunken rat. Every slap, punch and kick was taken without a sound because the punishment for wincing was double the amount than the beating now. And he wasn’t so sure his shell could take anymore.

“Look at you! You expect to take on my legacy acting like a pathetic little girl?! Get out of my sight before I finish you” With one swift punch to Leo’s jaw, Splinter left to go topside. He could hear his evil voice cackle on the phone to one of his partners in this mysterious business he refused to utter a word about.

“Why do you hit us so much? What did we ever do to you?” Leo sobbed quietly, curling into a little ball on the floor. The punch on his plastron seared throughout his body, burning in hot white pain. Yet it must be nothing compared to what his brothers were going through. They were awaiting Leo but the eldest could barely move, let alone walk to their home.

Home, usually described at being comforting and loving but he hadn’t felt any of these emotions since they moved in. He used to yearn for a mother to come and take their pain away but as he grew, that dream slowly died as hope in him also began to wither.

Maybe one day things would be different...

---

Blaring traffic shocked the turtle out of his trance and with a shuddering breath, he took several deep breaths. He l

“Why must I be reminded of such memories?” Leonardo sighed, his hand drifting over his temple to soothe the dull ache. No matter how long it had been, the wound from his past was still fresh. They say time healed all pain so why did his still hurt? Some nights it was bearable and some nights it felt like he was being suffocated in his mind, slowly driving insane.

Physical pain definitely was a lot more tolerable than verbal, even now he could still hear the echo of Splinter’s voice reprimanding him whenever he failed. Those stabbing words ringing louder and louder in his ears, berating him for being stupid and weak. Laughing at how his ridiculous attempt of leading a team. Leonardo never wanted anything more than to make Splinter proud but during his years, he realised that it was never going to happen.

Splinter only cared for himself and Leo, along with his brothers, were merely pawns in his cruel game.

But now was not the time to dwell on these matters, things had to be done and completed. His phone rang jarring him out of his thoughts and he picked it up rather reluctantly.

“What is it, Silas?” His assistant/companion spoke quickly, picking up the disinterest in Leo’s voice. He was never one for sugarcoating his feelings or emotions, if the boss wanted something done it was pronto.

“Beast is requesting dinner with capo and the mob. Your presence is required, sir” Holding his urge to groan, the turtle glanced down at the lights that decorated the buildings of New York. They were so beautiful but he couldn’t even take the time to appreciate it, reality had called and with great reluctance he had to answer.

Beast... what was there to say? He was a snob, ignorant, extremely wealthy but lacked any common sense or values. Leo’s patience was practically non existent whenever he communicated with him. While he provided a great reference for other business partners, Beast himself was on thin ice with the brothers.

“Dinner at... 1am?” Leo scowled, looking at his watch. Beast, while had been an average business partner, had constant demands and ideas that were completely absurd. The brothers were tiring of his constant requests and awful timing.

“I did not suggest the convocation at this late sir” The assistant began but Leo interrupted him, wanting to end this conversation.

“Be that as it may, unfortunately I cannot attend. Cancel my plans for tonight, I have a reconciliation to attend to and the conference will take up most my time” He ordered, observing the bonsai trees that stood on the balcony. One thing he grew to adore was his plants, they were simple and with enough care and love, blossomed into something gorgeous.

“I don’t think Beast will be pleased with the rejection. He only wants a few words with the mob and especially you, Capo” Silas tried to reason but the terrapin was adamant.

“Enough. Reschedule this meeting tomorrow at 11pm sharp. Am I understood?” Leo commanded and Silas nodded, already writing it down in his notepad.

“Crystal. Enjoy your night sir” ‘Unlikely’... Hanging up, the blue cladded turtle inhaled a deep breath to collect his thoughts. Cancelling the meeting is a mistake but there were bigger fish to fry tonight. Other duties lay heavy on his mind and with a turn of his heel, he left his safe haven.

As he entered his room, a young woman appeared at his door. Her heels echoed on the polished marble floors, grinding on his last nerve. God he really didn’t want to deal with her right in this moment. Her eyes settled on his and her face lifted into a small smile, one he did not mirror back.

“Katherine, what brings you to my quarters? Surely you’re old enough to understand you cannot barge in whenever you please” Leonardo watched as the young woman quickly stepped back, picking up the heavy discomfort that lay in the air.

“My apologies Leonardo. It’s Raphael, he said that you guys are attending a conference tonight but it’s our 3 month-”

“I fail to understand how this is my problem” He was quick in letting her know, he hadn’t the time to listen to her. Truth be told, he would never understand why Raphael stuck with her. She caused more pain and grief than anything to him.

“Okay... but could you tell me at least why?” She cocked her head and Leo turned, his face set in a hard frown.

“That is between me and my brothers Katherine. I do not appreciate when people interfere in my business. That much should be painfully obvious” His tone was calm but the harsh voice was clearly heard.

Opening his cupboard door, the small picture of Eva caught his eye. A small pang of sadness washed over his body before getting a grip on himself, refusing himself to succumb to the weakness. Eva was the past yet it seemed no matter how long the years had gone by, the yearn was as strong as ever. He wondered if he would ever be free from the shackles around his heart that locked tightly in his chest.

He had to accept that no matter how much he hoped on a wishing star or to the sky, she simply was not coming back. On the side showed a glass mirror, outlining all the features on his face. Sleep hadn’t come to the turtle much recently, he was lucky to get 4 hours and that was on a good day.

“You know you can just call me Kiki like everyone else” She raised her brow as he grabbed his navy blue velvet suit, the unreadable facial expression plastered on his face while his dark sapphire eyes burned into hers. Still standing at the doorway, she felt almost scared of him. Despite being with his brother for around 8 years, she never felt like she knew Leo. No one did, he kept to himself and only showed his true colours to those he cared about.

“Katherine, if that is all you have come to say then I highly suggest you leave me be now. It would not bode well for you to overstep your boundaries” With an almost snarl, he walked forwards and closed his door.

---

“Would you like some champagne, Mr Hamato? It’s the one you specifically requested, Dom Pérignon” The waiter asked and Leo nodded his head, flicking through the newspapers as he awaited the rest of his brothers to join him. This meeting was better suited to the office, he didn’t need any extra ears or eyes to listen in on the information discussed between them.

“God, I need a drink” He could hear the brute’s voice carry through the halls and into the meeting room.

“Right away boss” Greyson, his assistant spoke and vanished to make his preferred alcoholic beverage.

“What is the occasion, dear brother? As much as I like to spend time with you, I’m assuming you haven’t called us for fun” Donnie sat down, his ankle resting on top of his thigh as his attention diverted to his brother. Delicately folding the papers up and placing them to the side, Leo eyed his younger brother with a smirk.

“Always straight to the point Donatello. And you’d be correct, I’ve called this meeting to discuss our next steps” He spoke authoritatively as the turtles settled in their seats, glancing at the board which held ideas and secret plans.

“Did ya cancel tha meetin’ with Beast tonight?” Raph asked, eyes skimming at the tablet. That was very unlikely of the leader, he was the one always nagging to keep up with business meetings and such.

“Yes, I’ll be damned if I have to listen to another lie of his again. He cannot speak clearly and I have no time for beating around the bush. Once we’re done with this proposal, it will be a big relief to have him off our backs” Leo sipped his wine, flicking through his notes. A few names picked up but on the whole, everything seemed relatively calm. But there was no resting, they couldn’t afford not to be on their guard. Trouble was brewing on the horizon, he could feel it in his body.

“Fuck sake, how many times do I have to tell you I hate when you organise my notes like this” Mikey sighed irritably as his brothers smirked, looking at each other with amusement.

It was a running joke that Mikey couldn’t hold an assistant down for more than 2 months. Perhaps it was his picky way of being organised or that he had a short temper and hated his things being out of place, they didn’t know. This new assistant fumbled with the drinks, paling as his boss shouted his displeasure.

“What happened to Donetti Licata?” Donatello asked, chuckling at his younger brother expecting another childish story about organisation as it as had been the story before.

“Fired him. Caught him screwing Mia in my bed. Which reminds me I really need to employ someone who actually has a working braincell” Mikey spoke nonchalantly while his brothers looked at each other wide eyed.

“Oh... shit. M’sorry Mike, that must’ve been hard” Raph murmured, surprised at how well his little brother was taking the whole thing. Almost... too well in his opinion. Amelia had been the light of his life, his love at one point. They both brought out the best in each other but perhaps it was simply a mirage to the toxicity that lay just under the surface.

She wasn’t the Amelia he fell in love with and as he came to grips with that, the idea of losing her forever felt absolutely scary to him. He tried everything to put their relationship on track but it was Amelia who refused to partake in anything.

“Hmm? Oh.. yeah. It was tolerable once I beat the shit out of him. I can’t ever believe I trusted the fucker....” Mikey leaned back on his chair as another glass of wine was placed in front of him. Yet the lump in his throat felt unmovable, rendering him breathless.

“Don’t tell me ya still wit’ her Mike. Yer deserve better than that” Raphael’s hand ached to knock some sense into the terrapin. Even if she would countlessly cheat on him, which she probably had done, all she had to do was flutter her lashes and sweet talk him. And just like that Mikey would forgive her in that second. In his eyes, Mia could do no wrong. She had Mikey on a leash but of course, he was oblivious to it all.

“You still with Kiki?” Mikey retorted, venom in his words while his eyes glared at his brother. Raphael’s frown deepened, holding his gaze. While he knew it was in the heat of the moment, he wished Mikey could see the damage Amelia was doing to him. Kiki was different only because Raph knew her past, knew that she was damaged too. How could he, of all people, leave her hanging alone?

“Children, behave. What do we do about these last few payments? I’ve talked to Xavier and he’s saying Gomez hasn’t responded to anything. It’s high time we pay a special visit, he’s got to know who exactly he’s messing with here” Donnie rolled his eyes at the quarrel and adjusted his glasses, raising them closer to his eyes. Leonardo seemed to be in deep thought for a few seconds before looking at his family again.

“If that’s the case then I want you and Mikey to check it out tomorrow. Me and Raph will deal with Beast, we all know how dramatic he likes to get when he doesn’t get his way” They all knew the last time they messed with Beast, how he threatened to take his money away and leave them bankrupt. Regardless of his filthy money, the turtles were not affected without it.

Years of investing and saving up had allowed them to live luxuriously. They had everything they ever wanted, Beast was just a liability to them. They needed him to increase potential business partners. To be able to stay at the top, they needed to associate with people at the top. If that meant doing business with idiots who couldn’t hold their ground and lacked any sense of morals and values, then so be it.

This was the mafia, after all. Nothing was pretty here.

“He’s clearly trying to inherit the property, why not just kill him altogether” Mikey pointed out, leaning back on his chair but Leo shook his head.

“Too risky. He may be a fool but he’s a smart one. He has plenty of connections with others, much powerful than the ones we have. We’ll keep him on the side but don’t turn your eyes, he will strike when least expected. Once we secure this deal, you can unleash all your anger on him. For now, we stay in his good books. However long that may be” He grimaced at the thought of the meeting they were supposed to have instead of this one. How long the turtle brothers would remain on his good side was unknown but hey, only a few more months of his bullshit and it was home run. The brothers continued to talk about upcoming events and nearing the end of the meeting, they all grabbed their belongings.

“Wait a sec, Amara’s coming here tomorrow?” Mikey read out the small note on the board and Leo nodded, finishing off his wine.

“Yes, well technically she’s visiting but we needed some help around here and she agreed to stick around for a while” She was a close friend to the turtles, meeting them after they newly escaped Splinter’s clutches. She had found them at a time when they were barely breathing and even without knowing who they were, she nursed them back to health. They all were indebted to her. Throughout the years, she went back to Italy since her father was part of their own mafia but her loyalty to the turtles never wavered.

“At least we get ta see a new face ‘round here. But goin’ back ta before, I can’t wait ta finally kill that bastard” Raphael cracked his knuckles, unbuttoning his vest. He never was one to take orders from people, he was incredibly stubborn and arrogant to take commands from someone else. He barely followed Leo’s on a good day, let alone someone who continually threatened him and his family. If it were up-to him, he would have Beast’s head on a silver platter and sent directly to his team

“All in due time brother. For now, let’s focus on getting our money back and dealing with Beast”

#tmnt mafia!turtles #tmnt mafia!leonardo #tmnt mafia!raphael #tmnt mafia!donatello #tmnt mafia!michelangelo

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

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andwereallmadhere · 3 years

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You’re Not Alone | Jean x Reader

Paring: Jean x f!reader (slight Eren x reader mentioned)

Genre: FLUFF!, song fic

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/ Triggers: Alcohol, underage drinking

A/N: I was inspired by the Big Time Rush song You’re Not Alone (Link below). This is not the first thing I have written, but it is the first I am posting. Characters might be OOC but I feel like the overall feeling is there. I hope you enjoy!

Link to song: https://youtu.be/tbS5JF32szE

I bet you didn't notice First time your heart was broken You called me up and we talked til the morning

Jean is woken from his sleep by the harsh ringing of his phone. He fumbles for a minute trying to slide the little green button to answer the call. He puts the device up to his ear before stuffing his face back into the pillow, “Why are you call me it’s the middle of the night?” Sleep heavy in his gruff voice. He is quickly answered by your voice sobbing on the other end of the receiver. This immediately broke him out of his sleep-filled mind. He should have known when he saw your picture flash on the screen that you would only be calling if it was important.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He says wiping a guilty hand over his face. You didn’t respond. Still unable to form proper words through all the tears. He continues to quietly talk to you in an attempt to calm you down. Once the sobbing ebbs he finally asks, “Y/N, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He only hears you choke out a single word, “Eren.”

Jean and Eren never did get along, in however long you and Jaeger had been dating. But, as your best friend, Jean tried his best to accept him since that would make you happy. So hearing that HE is the reason you are crying at 2 A.M. enrages Jean.

“What did that bastard do? Did he try something you didn’t want? Do I need to beat him up? Y/N, I swear to god if he hurt you I will-“

“No Jean. It’s not like that.” “Then what is it like?”

“He dumped me.”

“Y/N…”

“He just came by my house and told me that “I’m just over it I guess”. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“He’s a dick, I’ve told you that from the beginning.”

You only respond by sobbing more.

Eren had been your first real boyfriend. And as much as Jean didn’t want it to be true, you were head over heels. Everyone knew this would happen eventually, he just hoped there would be a little more warning. Maybe a fight or something but just cutting it off without a real reason? Jean had theories that he was probably hooking up with someone else and didn’t want the guilt of being a cheater, but you didn’t need to hear that right now. You didn’t need overprotective Jean hating on Eren. You needed best friend Jean to comfort you and assure you that you are worthy of love and everything is going to be okay.

“Hey, you can do better than him. He’s the real loser here. Any guy would be lucky to have you and the next one has to go through me first.” Jean says half meaning it, half attempting to make you laugh.

“Stop it, Jean, You know you’d lose every fight.” He can almost hear the smile in your voice, despite the tears that are certainly still running down your face.

“Why don’t I come get you? We can go for a drive or something.”

“Okay.” Your soft voice is followed by a sniffle.

“I’m on my way.”

Jean gets out of the warmth of his bed and finds his sweatpants. He throws on a hoodie and grabs an extra in case you forget to bring your own. It's pretty chilly out tonight. He grabs his keys and begins the drive to your house. Once he arrives he sees your form sitting on your porch. Always the gentleman, he walks over to you and offers to help you up. You grab his hand and he can still see the tear stains on your cheeks. Once you are on your feet he pulls you into a hug. “Hey,” Jean says returning your tight squeeze. “Let’s go get you some food.”

You don’t respond, but your grip around his waist losses and you begin making your way to the car. He opens the door for you and watches as you immediately grab the spare hoodie and slide it over your head. It’s obviously too big for you, but you are grateful for the extra fabric to bury your sad face in.

The ride is mostly silent, Jean wanted to give you room to talk if you wanted. After a bit of having his hoodie pulled up to your nose, it was clear that you were too caught up in your own drowning thoughts to say anything so he turned on a very soft playlist from his phone in hopes of providing you some distraction.

Jean stops the car and you see he has brought you to a Waffle House. He knows it your favorite. Sure the food isn’t great but there is something about the mediocracy of the establishment that gets you. “Come on slowpoke, I’m buyin’,” Jean says after opening your door. You give him a thank you before following him into the restaurant.

The two of you find a small booth, given that it was well into the night, there weren’t any people there other than the handful of employees. “You’ll have to talk to me eventually you know,” Jean says. You take a moment to look up from the menu he knows you have memorized by now. Just then a waitress comes by to take your order.

Jean already knows exactly what you want because you always get the same thing. Just as he tells the waitress your order you finally speak, “Hey Jean.” Your voice is slightly above a whisper, “can I have chocolate milk?” You look back down at the table while Jean turns back to the waitress, “And can the lady have a chocolate milk, please and thank you.” Jean smiles at you as the waitress walks away, your silly request signaling that his best friend is slowly but surely coming out of this shell of sadness.

Sure enough, you begin to open up. You tell him more of the details about Eren dumping you. Your food arrives and you laugh when Jean spills his glass of water on his lap. The two of you eventually move to the barstool countertops to talk to the fry cook, trying to convince him to make you a pancake instead of a waffle. Eventually Jean pays, leaving a generous tip as an apology for your late-night shenanigans.

Walking to the car you can see the pastel colors of the impending day reaching the sky. Not ready to go home yet you lean into Jean’s body, tugging on his arm, “Let’s go watch the sunrise!”

“You’re ridiculous.” He says shaking his head, “get in the car.” He smiles and opens your car door. Of course he was going to let you watch the sunrise. He is going to drive you to the park and find a place high up and the two of you will talk about nothing at all until you fall asleep in the passenger seat of his car. He is really just happy that the outing has worked. No, 4 A.M. waffles cannot cure your broken heart but it at least made you smile.

And the time that you were stranded I was there before you landed He was a no show, I made sure you got home

High school seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Graduation came and went and your family decided that you should spend the summer at your aunt’s house on the other side of the country. Of course, you loved your aunt and her kids, but spending your last real summer break away from your friends wasn’t a huge selling point. Ultimately, your mom said you had to go because the trip was already paid for and your aunt was expecting you. The only reason you eventually agreed was that the majority of your little group were all attending the same college, so at least it wasn’t goodbye.

The day before Freshman move-in everyone decided to throw a party at Eren and Mikasa’s house. Eren’s parents were out of town a lot so that is usually where the gang got together. Jean and Eren still don’t along great, but Jean was close to Sasha and Connie who happened to be okay friends with Armin and Mikasa, and thus your little group was formed for better or for worse. After the night Eren dumped you out of the blue, Jean was furious with him, only for you to accept Jaeger’s lame-ass apology and take him back a week later. Luckily there hadn’t been any more repeats of that night. Maybe Eren was telling the truth and did actually like you, so Jean played nice even if he didn’t fully forgive the brunette.

And now he was here, with you on FaceTime while you wait for your flight at the airport and Jean is getting ready for Eren’s dumb party that you won’t even make it to.

“So when does your flight get in?” Jean asks folding the remains of the load of laundry his mom did this morning.

“I think about 11 if it’s not delayed again. I’m super bummed that I won’t make it in time for the party.”

“It’s at Jaeger’s house, can’t he just bring you by after he picks you up?”

“I guess so, but he also said something about taking me home because it’ll be late and we have move in tomorrow.”

Jean hums in response. It is a valid argument logically, but none of them have seen you all summer except for the occasional FaceTime. The only real reason Jean was going to this stupid party was that you were supposed to be back in time. Jean can hear a voice come over the intercom in the airport. “Hey, Jean, that’s my flight. I gotta go.”

“Alright, Y/N, let me know when you land. See you soon.”

With that, the call ended. Your face replaced by a photo of you and Jean at prom making silly faces. Yeah, Eren was your date and Jean took Mikasa, but you all took photos together and his mom insisted on getting one of the two of you. It was obvious that the picture pissed Eren off, and that made it even more special to Jean.

Eventually, Jean finished the laundry and headed over to Eren’s. At least everyone else will be there and he can kick Connie’s ass at beer pong. Jean purposefully arrived a little late, so he knew everyone else would already be there, and sure enough, Eren had the white folding table already set up in the garage and Armin had started a little bonfire in the backyard. “Horseface You made it!” Connie says throwing an arm around Jean.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“What are you going to do send Y/N after me? Oh wait…She’s not here!”

“We both know Y/N could easily kick your ass so shut up.”

Jean went around greeting everyone else and made good on his promise to dominate at beer pong. A while later he takes a seat next to Armin, who was currently roasting a marshmallow. “Ever put peanut butter on a s’more? Whole new experience.”

Armin looks over at Jean, “Y/N show you that?”

“Oh no, secret’s out,” Jean says taking a drink of water. After the game of beer pong, which was a little closer in score than Jean would have enjoyed, he decided to take it easy on the booze so he could actually drive home.

“When does her flight get in anyway?” Armin asks removing his marshmallow from the flame.

“She told me about 11 when we talked earlier. Said Eren was going to pick her up.”

At the mention of his name the two look over to see Eren taking a shot with Sasha and Connie. “Did anyone tell him that?” Armin says with a small chuckle.

Jean looked at his watch, it was only 9, if the bastard stop drinking now he might be sober enough to come get you. So Jean let it slide.

But Eren didn’t stop drinking. It was now 10:30 and Eren was plastered. Jean watches as Eren and Connie arm wrestle and sighs. What would Y/N think if she saw her boyfriend like this? “Shit,” Jean says standing from his chair around the fire. This gets the attention of Armin and Mikasa who were also over Eren’s drunk bullshit, “What is it?” Armin questions. “Y/N. Eren is supposed to pick her up from the airport in 30 minutes.”

“Well, that’s not happening!” Sasha laughs, also drunk.

Jean stood up and finished his soda before pulling his car keys from his pocket.

“And where are you going Horseface? Afraid you’ll lose in arm wrestling?” Eren suddenly joins the conversation. Jean cannot believe this asshole, he doesn’t even realize! Jean contemplates throwing a punch, but that will inevitably start a fight and the airport is almost 40 minutes away so he’ll already be late. So instead, Jean crushes the soda can in his hand and walks away. “Ha! Horseface is a scary cat!” Eren yells at his back before Mikasa smacks Eren on the head.

Jean’s anger melts through the drive. As upset as he is that Jaeger forgot, Jean is excited to see you. He’s not sure how he’s going to explain this one to you though. He parks his car and glances at the time, 11:15. At least you haven’t been waiting too long.

Luckily the airport is pretty small and there are only a few incoming flights so it’s not hard to figure out which gate your flight should have landed at. He thinks it's a little odd you haven’t texted him that you landed safely but he dismissed it as he made his way to the gate. Jean is surprised to find the gate empty. No hugging families or people searching for their luggage. There are a few scattered people here and there, also apparently picking up various passengers. After talking with another guy, Jean finds out that the flight had been delayed before take off so it is running late. You were not stranded at the airport, you hadn’t even landed.

Jean found a seat and began scrolling on his phone. He didn’t expect to have so much time so he didn’t really bring anything with him, not even headphones to listen to music. He sat waiting for what must have been a solid 30 minutes before he started to fall asleep in the chair.

“Jean!” He hears your voice call, this rouses him from the light sleep. Once he sees your face he can’t help but smile. He stands to walk over to you but is practically knocked over when you throw yourself into his arms. “Hey, stranger.” He says wrapping his arms around you.

“It feels like it has been forever!” You pull away from him and reach for your suitcase, but Jean beats you to it, grabbing the handle before you can. “I can carry it you know.” But you know it’s useless arguing. Mama Kirstein raised a gentleman, that’s for sure.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at a party?” You ask, giving him a side-eye as you follow him to his car. “Yeah…about that…” Jean still hasn’t figured out exactly what to say about why Eren ditched you.

“Eren drunk himself stupid, didn’t he?” You say, almost casually. Like you expected it all along.

“Yeah, but lucky for you I know a guy with a soft spot for you.” Jean places your things in the trunk before opening your car door.

“My shining stallion, always coming to my rescue.”

“Yeah, yeah, get in the car Princess.” He says. Eren’s stupid horse jokes have started rubbing off on you.

You spent the whole drive telling Jean about your trip, even though you talked with him almost every day you were gone. Jean in turn told you all the ridiculous things Sasha and Connie did while you were away. They still had group game night, which surprisingly Eren and Jean only tried to kill each other a handful of times. You laugh when Jean tells you the full story about Connie smashing Sasha’s face into a cake she brought one night, claiming “There is never a bad time for cake.” Sure they all sent you the pictures but you still loved hearing the story. And before you know it Jean pulled up in front of your house.

He carried your suitcase to the door and turned to you, “I’ll pick you up at 6 alright?” Right, Jean offered to drive you to orientation tomorrow and it was a four-hour drive to the University. With all the excitement of seeing your best friend, you forgot about college tomorrow. “Ugh so early? That’s like 4 hours from now”

“Unfortunately. Even then we’ll be cutting it close.”

“Fine. I’ll see you at 6.” You say giving him a final hug.

“Jean," you say into his chest, “I’m kind of glad it was you and not Eren that picked me up. I missed you. Thanks for always being there for me.”

“For you. Always.” Jean returns your hug before walking back to his car.

All the days that you were stressed out Feeling like pulling your hair out They were all missing but I was here listening

Freshman year came and went and now you were currently crying over your trigonometry textbook before your final tomorrow. Your other finals had gone pretty well and other than this stupid test you were finished with your first full year of university. Surprisingly Jean and Eren didn’t kill each other despite being suite mates. Originally the two were supposed to be roommates, but Armin quickly volunteered to switch with Jean, the blond being a little more equipped to handle Eren. You on the other hand shared a dorm with Sasha and Mikasa. Since it was the three of you you managed to snag a bigger room and didn’t have to share a bathroom with anyone else. When the gang got together for movie night it was usually in your room since the boys lived just down the hall. Overall it had been a pretty good year.

Everyone else had already finished their finals, the majority of your group moving back home on Wednesday, except Jean who had his last final today. Jean also offered to stay an extra day so you could drive home together, but he would never say that out loud. “I’m gonna use the extra time to relax since Jaeger is gone. Living with him for a year almost killed me!” He would claim, ever the dramatic. But you knew he was also staying for you since you didn’t have a car and he did a similar thing for winter break.

Trig had been your worst class all semester. No matter how many times you worked through the problems you were always getting a different answer, usually the wrong one. Armin helped you study for your midterm, but since he was already gone you were left alone. While your overall grade wasn’t bad considering you did all of the extra credit options your professor offered, this test could make or break your final GPA. If you could get at least an 85% it would bump your grade from a high C to a low B. So you have been doing nothing but math since your other finals finished this morning. And you were about to cry. Again. After completing the study guide and taking half a dozen practice tests you aren’t anywhere close to what you needed. After grading your last practice test, you barely managed an 80% and that was being nice to yourself.

“I’m never going to get this.” You sob, ink running from the tears now spilling onto your paper. Then there is a knock on the door.

“Who’s there?”

“The pizza guy?” Jean says from the other side of your door. At the mention of food, you realize you hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, which wasn’t saying much since you had a muffin and cup of coffee after Mikasa yelled at you for forgetting to eat earlier in the week. But you didn’t want Jean to see you struggling this much. Yeah, you could talk to him about anything but he was always so gifted when it came to school, even graduated top of the class in high school. So the idea of him seeing you brought to tears by something he saw as easy made your heartache. You were afraid he would accidentally make fun of you in that cocky way he does, or he would offer to help but realize you were a lost cause before ditching you altogether.

“Go away, Jean. I’m studying,” You yell back, attempting to hide the overwhelming stress from your voice.

“Well take a break, I wasn’t joking about the pizza. Mikasa told me you haven’t been eating so you better open this door, Y/N, before I resort to drastic measures.”

You give up getting him to go away, plus that pizza sounds so good. You get up and open the door, “And what would these ‘drastic measures’ be?”

“Sasha left her keys in our dorm, so I probably would have just walked in.” Jean finally takes a look at your face, and despite your efforts to wipe away your tears, Jean knows you’ve been crying.

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? You-‘ You cut him off before he can finish. “What kind of pizza did you bring?”

“Your favorite, of course.” Jean sets the pizza on your bed while you grab some drinks out of the little micro-fridge. Jean glances at your desk and quickly takes in the scattered notes and tear-stained papers. Suddenly it makes sense. Your lack of eating, how you haven’t been responding to texts, and the tears when you opened the door. “I can help you you know? I took Trig last semester.”

“I told you not to worry about it.” You say attempting to be mad at him for snooping but it’s pointless. You take a seat on the bed and open the pizza box, “Horseface.” You add almost in a whisper.

Jean visibly shrivels at the name, “No. Not you. Not allowed.”

This small comment was enough to change the subject, and his mild anger at such a stupid name pulls an amused smile out of you. The two of you eat and converse as usual. He tells you about his last final and how Eren left their shared bathroom a mess that he needs to take care of before you leave tomorrow. You talk about how one of your professors just showed a movie during the final period since they are required to hold class despite not actually giving a test. And you feel the stress leave your body, even if just for a moment.

After a while, Jean looks back over at your desk before grabbing your textbook and the last practice test you took. “This isn’t bad, Y/N, looks like some simple mistakes that you keep making, fix those and you’ll be fine.”

“How can I fix something I don’t know I’m doing wrong?” You ask.

“Because I’m going to help you, idiot.”

Jean proceeds to walk you through your last practice test and showing you the mistakes he was talking about. After helping you do a few more problems, Mr. Kirstein makes you do another practice test that he’s going to grade. While you take the test Jean lays on your bed, scrolling through his phone. He’s trying not to look at you, not wanting to add more pressure to you by feeling watched.

After you are finished you pass him the paper and watch as he marks up the pages with a red pen. Eventually, he turns to you and gives you back the test, a solid 83%. Not as good as you hoped but you don’t want to discredit Jean’s tutoring. After walking through the test you look at the clock, it's currently 1 A.M.

“Well Y/N, your test is first thing in the morning and I don’t think stressing yourself out more is going to help you at all.”

“But what am I supposed to do? I need an 85!”

“You need sleep,” Jean says, packing up your study materials.

“One more practice test, then I sleep, I swear.’

“Sleep now. Maybe you can do another in the morning.”

There is no use in arguing with Jean, he always gets his way. Once the study materials were all put away Jean takes your laptop and opens up Netflix, knowing you won’t be able to sleep if you were still worked up. The two of you sit side by side on your bed watching some stupid movie until Jean notices your eyes have closed and your breathing has evened out. As quietly as possible Jean closes the laptop and climbs out of the bed. He puts a blanket over your sleeping form and turns off the light before closing the door to your room.

The next morning you wake up with a text from Jean. Opening your door you find a fresh coffee and a doughnut waiting on your doorstep. “That idiot.” You mumble to no one, but gratefully pick up the small meal he left for you. After eating you get ready to go and resign to looking over some notes before the exam. Once in the classroom, all the stress from last night comes crashing back. You just have to keep reminding yourself that a C in trig isn’t bad. Your GPA will still be above a 3.0, barely but still. And before you know it your teacher has told you to begin your exam so you log on to your computer and start your test.

The good thing about the test being on the computer is that you’ll know your results immediately. After going over the answers a second time you finally hit the submit button. You stare at the little blinking cursor as it checks through all your answers, holding your breath. Suddenly your final grade pops up on the screen and you can’t stop the tears that slip from your eyes. You gather your things and head back to your dorm. But you find Jean waiting outside the building, leaning against the car without a care in the world. “JEAN!” You practically scream upon seeing him. He can see the tears on your face, “It’s okay, Y/N. Trig is pointless anyway. You still did great even if you got a C.”

“I did it! Jean, I got a 90%!”

“That’s my girl!” Jean says giving you a high five.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, teach.” You say giving him a big grin.

“Come on, Y/N. I say we get you a celebratory milkshake before we drive home. Jean says opening the door for you. Your eyes follow him as he walks around the car to the driver’s side. You are lucky to have him in your life. Yeah, he can be kind of an ass from time to time, but his heart is always in the right place.

'Cause I'll be right there (right there) For every minute This time, it's no different Whatever happens you should know 'Cause you're not alone, girl Look over your shoulder You don't have to wonder 'Cause you know, you know, you know You're not alone, girl

#jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x you #jean kirstein x you #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #reader insert #jean kirschtein fluff #jean kirstein fanfiction #jean kirstein fanfic

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herstroywritten · 3 years

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Their Aching Firsts.

I still have no excuse for my obsession with them. Not sure how I feel about this particular story, but I wanted to post something for the start of Rivusa week for the hell of it. It’s about 7k words (I apparently can’t stop writing them once I start and their works end up being endless). Oops.

Fair warning, there is a umm *spicy* scene near the end there. I don’t usually write those and I tried to keep it as vague as I could, but I thought I’d mention it anyways. Other than that, enjoy and let me know what you think!

The first times they kissed, it was fueled by anger- he grabbed, she pulled, they crashed.

The first time they talked about it, it wasn't so much a conversation of words as it was one of looks. His eyes said "I want you and it terrifies me." Her eyes said "I think I want you, too. And I think I'm finally ready to admit that."

The first time Musa realized her new favorite jacket was once his, she stares at herself in the mirror for over an hour. She misses lunch with the gang and Riven comes knocking at her door and opens it to find her standing in front of that mirror in a state of awe. She's bathed in black leather, sleeves reaching the tips of her fingertips.

"You ok?" Arms wrap around her waist as she toys with the hem of the jacket. She looks at him through the mirror and smiles.

"I just want you to know I'm never giving this back."

He huffs a laugh as he lets his head fall to her hair, breathing her in. Lavender and something sweet that he's never been able to pinpoint. "Not even if this falls apart?"

She whirls around to face him. "I don't intend on letting that happen." Her hands are on the collar of his shirt, eyes blazing with stubbornness. He knows then that her words are a promise, a commitment and not just a comment in passing.

"I don't know, Muse. You still have time to regret all this. Regret the ruin of your reputation. What will people say?" His words are teasing, but she can see right through them. She senses his vulnerability, his apprehension.

"There are a lot of things I regret in life- yelling at my mother when I was fourteen because I didn't want to clean my room, being a bit of a bitch to my suitemates at the start of the year, hiding instead of fighting because I was too scared to see what my powers could really do. The regrets are endless. But, you, Riven, are not one of them."

He frowns, blinks away the swarm of feelings within him. "Yeah?"

She bunches her hands on his collar and pulls him down to her mouth. "Yeah."

"And what if I'm the one to end this?"

"And do what? Date some other girl for the hell of it?"

"Maybe, " he grins. "I hear I'm hot on the market now that I'm on the good side." She pulls him all the way down then, kisses him hard.

"Give it a try. Whoever she is, she won't last more than a day. And she'll defiantly never have you. Not really. I have you right where I want you, Riven. You're mine and you know it." She blazes a fire in him with her words.

"Oh yeah? And how would you know that?"

"You're here, aren't you?" She's all sass as she cocks an eyebrow at his question. "And, plus, it's kinda hard to lie to an empath."

And then she's kissing him again. This time with so much passion that he can't make sense of the world around him any longer. She pulls away only to tell him, "And I bet she'll never get that reaction out of you."

"No. No, she won't."

________________________________________________________________

The first time he calls her his girlfriend, it's not exactly in the situation she had imagined.

"Girls, I need to tell you something." Musa's voice wavers slightly as it rises above the noise that is their friends' laughs and chatter.

They're on the roof of Alfea, clustered among one another on the edges of old, shabby stones. The sky above them is dark and heavy. Stars wink at students from behind perfect clouds, ones that Musa remembers seeing in old cartoon movies that she used to watch with her parents when she was younger. From up here, the rest of Alfea seems like their whole world, its students miniature figures in a dollhouse. It's a perfect night, just as it should be. Rosalind is gone, out of the school and although that's not good enough, it's something. And Headmistress Dowling is alive and back in charge of the magical boarding school, where she belongs. From her perch up here, she can make out the headmistress' perfectly done hair as she leans back and laughs at something Silva is saying. She sees Professor Harvey heading towards their table, scolding students along the way to back away from the school's boarders. She's surprised that they haven't tried to stop all the drinking that going on. It seems that even the professors have had enough of the fighting, so much so that they're no longer focusing on the minute details of teenage life. Plus, she suspects that when they called for a party to celebrate the revival of Dowling and their taking back the school, they had fully expected the drinking. In fact, Musa had even seen Silva sneaking a few drinks to the teacher's table, but she'd never tell him that.

She can still hear Terra's squeal when Dowling had announced the party. And she can feel the toll of the heels Stella had insisted she wear on her feet. It has brought everyone so much joy, this little piece of heaven that they're being allowed, and she's been so very glad to just bask in it. After months of walking around with her headphones constantly on, trying desperately and failing to block the thoughts of despair, gloom, and pain, she welcomed the change. It had taken a lot out of her, but she had even worked up the nerve to leave her headphones behind for the party. The girls had been surprised at first, but then Bloom had stepped forward, wound their arms together, and led her outside the suite. She's been getting weird looks from them all night, little side glances with small smiles and questioning eyes, asking her if she was okay or if she needed to head out for a bit, take a breather. She'd returned them all with reassuring smiles of her own, letting them know that she was fine. And she was fine, but probably not for the reason they thought. Yes, the students around her were happy and she didn’t have much negativity to deal with from them right now, and yes her powers were getting better. But the reason she was doing so well had to do nothing with the students around them or her ability to control her magic and everything to do with the specialist across from her.

Riven and her had been a bit of a dichotomy since the start of her second semester at Alfea. They were paired together for combat classes from the very beginning of Rosalind's reign at Alfea. He'd flirted, as he did with everything that had a pulse and walked his way, and she had shut it down. Odd how that had only encouraged his behavior. Odder how she'd eventually come to appreciate it.

It was a slow transition, their thing. She had been resistant to accept she liked someone so very opposite to her last boyfriend, hesitant to give herself to that natural disaster that seemed to be Riven. Honestly, it seemed like a loss for a long time. She'd lay in bed some nights, staring at her ceiling, listening to Terra's slow breaths as she slept, and just think about the fact that just a few months ago (God, it boggled her mind that it was only a few months ago… where did time go? And how did they get here, in a school run by a once presumed dead war leader and a woman that seemed to exude death from her presence alone?) she had been perfectly happy with Sam and the silence that he brought. Sure, they had eventually called it quits once she had realized she couldn't live in silence forever and he realized she needed to learn to shield herself from harm. It had been tough, but they were friends. And she had been okay being single again. Truly, she had. So how she'd come to crave noise- his noise, loud and obnoxious emotions that sent her body tingling and her mind reeling- she doesn't know. But it had happened and once she's finally just accepted it, the ball was in his court. Too bad for her though, because just as hesitant as she was, Riven was ten times more resistant to the pull that existed between the two of them. Musa remembers all the nights they'd sneak out and he'd teach her new moves with a staff and sometimes he'd let her use his swords, teasing her as she struggled under their weight. She'd head back to her suite before the sun came up, always frustrated because couldn't he see?! Couldn't he tell? Why else would she show up every single night without fail? Why else would she stick around when the training turned to teasing and taunting turned to conversations in hushed tones? Long story short, it took him being under mind control and her breaking it for him to just finally, finally kiss her. And from then on, it had been secret meetings in different corners of the school, in their rooms when no one else was around, and anywhere else they could find some privacy.

She's itching to cross the space that separates them currently and slip her arms under his jacket, an action that she'd first done on instinct but which had quickly become a habit once she had realized the effect it had on him. She's been eyeing him the whole night, fully aware of his gaze on her. There's a reason she hadn't argued with Stella when she'd been handed the lavender slip of a dress that she currently wore. She'd even managed to forgive the light fairy for the strappy silver heels she had practically forced into Musa's feet when she caught Riven staring up and down her bare legs.

"Musa? What is it? Are you ok?"

Bloom's worried tone pulls her back to reality and she forces herself to face away from Riven and toward the girls. She'd avoided this conversation for so long, but it had to come out at some point tonight and it had to happened before one of the girls found them in some shady corner with their clothes half off.

"Oh, no I'm fine! It's not that." Now, how to approach what it actually was?

Aisha's confused tone follows her reply, "Well, then, what is it?"

"Um, it's kind of a little complicated…" Musa's voice trails off and she has to physically stop herself from turning back to Riven to see if he's ok with this, with what she's about to say.

"Musa you're freaking me out a little here," Stella's eyes narrow at Musa's fidgeting her hands. Huh, she hadn't even noticed herself playing with the hem of her dress.

"Oh no! Did you actually kill that poor guy that tried to hit on you?" Terra sounds worried as Musa just groans at her words.

"Ughhh. Terra, we said we wouldn't talk about that."

"What guy?" Riven's question comes at the same moment as her whine, except his is louder and much more aggressive. All heads turn to him, and Musa curses the jealousy that she feels coursing through his veins right now. Damn it, couldn't he just keep it in long enough so she could explain to her suitemates what the hell was going on between them? His eyes are all rage and warning as he stares Terra down. And for some reason, she's all worked up at his gaze and doesn't know what to do with herself. She really shouldn't be so attracted to this side of him.

"What's it matter to you?" Aisha questions, eyebrow raising in his direction.

"It just does."

"Really, Riven? The middle school comeback? Classic."

"Stay out of it, Aisha. I wasn't talking to you."

They're bickering back and forth, and Musa can sense both their patience straining. This is not how she was hoping this would go. Finally, she steps between them, one hand on Aisha's shoulder and the other on Riven's chest. "Ok, that's enough."

Aisha glares his way one more time but steps back, Riven does not. Instead, he turns to Musa and asks her, "What guy, Musa?"

"It doesn't matter, Riven."

"It does to me."

"Well, it shouldn't. It was just some drunk dude with a bad haircut. That's it." She's trying to reassure him, to let him know that this thing they have going on isn't just something she's going to drop the first chance she gets for any guy that makes eyes her way. She knows that's one of his big insecurities. He has it in his head that he's not good enough to deserve this, something that isn't completely fucked up from the very beginning.

They're trading glances, a secret conversation of their own happening between them.

"No!"

All heads snap toward Bloom. The second she turns around, Musa knows that her redheaded roommate has figured it out. Bloom is grinning at the two of them, practically bouncing on her heels as she grabs onto Sky's arm and tugs on it. "Did you know about this?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

Sky (bless his soul) looks at his girlfriend with confusion evident in his face, "Know what?"

Except it's Stella that answers, "They're dating."

And then mayhem ensues and Musa suddenly wishes she had thought this through because she's feeling so much from so many people right now and she's not quite sure how to handle it. She tries to hide the wince that forms on her face as she tries to answer all the questions her friends are practically screaming her way, but Riven must have noticed it because he reaches for her hand and pulls her out of the circle the girls have formed around her and closer to him.

"Alight, that's enough." It's the rasp in his voice that sends her spiraling every time he speaks, and she's putty in his hands. It's pathetic, she should have more self-control than this. "Yes, we're dating. Yes, she's my girlfriend. And, Aisha, no I did not pay her or threaten her into it. Gods above!" He takes a sweep of the room, gesturing to all their friends with a hand as if to say 'you're all very welcome.'

"Any other questions?" No one speaks up. Not that Musa would have heard any of them because good gods, did she hear him right? Did he just say what she thinks he said? Is she his… girlfriend? They'd avoided so many labels for so long that it had completely slipped her mind to actually name this thing between then by the time that they had finally become something substantial. And she's been fine with that deal, with not having to name their relationship, but hearing him call her his girlfriend has send her body trembling, fire coursing through her veins and butterflies bursting in her stomach.

And then he's pulling her away, down the stairs that led them up to the roof and between hallways that blend into one another as her mind focuses on the way his hand grips hers and the lust (his? hers?) that seems to be engulfing her whole being.

She lets him lead her into his room, onto his bed, and just as he leans down to kiss her, she moves down and places a kiss on his neck instead. Looking up at him, she tests out the word that's taken over her brain since it left his lips, "Girlfriend?"

"Fuck. Is that not what this is? I, I don't know- I kind of figured- I don't know. Shit, sorry-" If she wasn't so very in love with the idea of being his girlfriend, his something (just his), she would have let his ramble continue. She didn't get to see this often, a flustered Riven, and it was a sight she found quite adorable. But, alas, she had other plans for tonight.

She bends her neck upward, uses her toes to push herself up the bed, and kisses him ever so lightly on the lips. Just enough so that he stops talking. A feather's whisper of a kiss, against which she purrs "That is exactly what this is if that's what you want it to be."

His eyes are black with want when he closes them and his hand comes up to trace the edges of her jaw. His breathing speeds up as he leans his forehead against hers, and that's how she knows he's trying to collect his thoughts, watching his words as he often does when he's scared he's about to make the wrong move, say the wrong thing. She swears she's going to get him to stop doing that around her, because she wants his thoughts, every single one of them, as raw as they are. She doesn't want the filtered version. And she can feel them, mingling into the background as his insecurity takes over. Her hands find their way to his jaw and now they're holding each other, "Tell me."

He opens his eyes, opens his mouth to tell her, just as she knew he would. He'd never deny her anything and she's learned that in the short time that they've been together. He'd collect the stars and fashion them into a necklace she could wear around her neck if she asked for the universe. He'd start and end a war if she so much as suggested it. He'd give her his soul, she thinks. All she needs to do is ask, and he breaks for her. Crack by crack. Splinter by splinter. Until he's cleaved wide open and she sees all of him.

"I do, want that. I want you." His voice is gruff, guttural. "What about you? What do you want?"

God, how does he still not get it?!

"You." A whisper, and then a kiss.

_______________________________________________________________

The first time he makes her cry, it's not because of something he said. It's because of something he did.

It had started like any other day- breakfast, classes, social gatherings at the end of the afternoon. Musa and Terra had just left botany lessons and were heading towards the specialists training grounds to meet up with Sky and Riven before they all went to grab dinner together. It had been all fun and games, Terra and her grumbling about how ravished they were and laughing along at each other's comments. But Musa had sensed the uneasiness that radiated from the training grounds the second they had rounded the corner of Alfea's large lawns. Silva was especially on edge, and the fact that he had all the upperclassmen and the best of the specialists lined up as he walked back and forth between them shouting orders could not be a good sign. And with an insane mastermind on the loose, Musa had feared the worst as anyone else would. She'd taken off running, and Terra had followed without any questions, trusting her instincts.

She only caught glimpses of Silva's orders. "… Five burned ones… Two upperclassmen faries out there already… We need to leave now- I'm going to need ten of you out ASAP. Five more will guard the school grounds… Any volunteers?"

Her heart stopped when in her peripheral vision, she saw Sky and Riven's hands go up. This would be the third one this month that they had volunteered for, and the last time they left the school grounds Riven came back with a broken foot that he's still limping along on. The word left her mouth before she could think about it, "No!"

He turned to her, surprised to find her standing among the specialists. "Musa?"

She can't be bothered to greet him, not right now, not when he's practically signing up for his own death. So, instead, she stares him straight in the eye and says it again. "No."

But Riven is as stubborn as she is, and she knows he's been itching to prove himself again, to make up for what he did under the control of Rosalind just a short while ago. His words crush her soul, "I volunteer for the outside team." He's talking to Silva, who's eyeing the two of them with an intrigued look on his face. He nods curtly at Riven's words. But Riven is looking at her, his jaw set and tilted upward with determination.

"Alright, Sky and Riven, you'll lead the charge. Get your weapons. We leave in five minute. Go!" And then he and Sky are running toward their weapons bags, Musa and Terra hot on their tracks.

She catches up to him just as he's strapping on his swords. Her hand comes to pull at his wrist, motioning for him to face her.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" He won't look at her, won't meet her eyes. "Riven, I'm talking to you! You can't just volunteer yourself up for everything that could kill you! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Whatever you're trying to prove, stop it!"

He's reaching for his fighting boots, switching into them. Whether he's just not listening or if he just doesn't care, she can't tell. She wants to kill him. She wants to kiss him.

"Please," she can't believe she's begging. "Please, Riven. Your foot. You can't-"

"I'm doing it, Musa." She sees fury, internalizes it before her insides form it into something tangible and she can see it, feel it. It's red and blinding and raging.

"I'm asking you not to." He won't say no to her, he hasn't done it yet. She asks and he cracks for her right? Right?

Wrong.

"LET'S GO, SQUADRON 1!" She barely registers what Silva's command means until Riven is standing up.

"I'm sorry, Musa." And she knows he means it, because when his hands fall to her shoulders, quick and rushed, they're firm. He leans down to kiss her goodbye or as a form of apologizing, she's not sure, but she turns her head away from him and he ends up kissing the space between her cheek and jawline. If he won't look at her, then she won't look at him. And if he won't listen to her, then she won't give him the satisfaction of her approval. It's petty, she know that. She senses his emotions deflate at her actions, the feeling of rejection cutting into his heart like a shard of glass ripping through flesh. But she's seen this movie before, she knows how this story ends. Too many specialists have left the school's walls wounded and eager to pick a fight, only to come back on the brink of death or even worse, they haven't come back at all. And the idea of him becoming one of those statistics hurts more for her than her rejection will ever hurt him.

She doesn't turn to watch him leave, but she hears his boots beating against the pavement as he rushes to catch up with Sky… and then silence.

She's so numb by now. Numb to death, to feeling, to crying. She doesn't cry. Not when Terra comes to hug her from behind. Not when they're back in the suite and Bloom is practically sizzling with anger at the fact that they didn't think to bring her along on the mission and that Sky is being sent on yet another mission. Not when it's midnight and Dowling informs that the specialists made it back safely.

She doesn't go down to greet them when the other girls rush out the door. Terra lingers in the doorway.

"You sure you don’t want to come?"

"I'm good." She's staring outside the huge window of their living room, refusing to look down at the ground and try to make out if someone is missing in the mass of specialists standing in the courtyard.

"Musa-" She feels pity and worry coming from Terra, and she doesn't want to deal with it right now. She just wants to be numb for a little while longer.

"I said, I'm good."

Once Terra is gone, she turns away from the window and goes to sit by one of the couches. She counts the floorboards by the main doorway of the Winx suite. One, two, three, four, five, six…

She counts them three times over before the door finally barges open, it's hinges creaking from the immense force of the push just enacted upon it.

Riven's eyes frantically search the room before they finally fall on her. He walks towards her, limps actually. (She knew his foot wasn't healed, no matter how much he insisted it was.) He has blood splattered on his right side. His or someone else's, who knows? And when he finally reaches her, and falls to his knees in front of her so that they're eye level with one another, she finally cries.

He reaches for her. She pushed him off. "Fuck you, Riven. Really, fuck you."

"I'm sorry. Muse, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I-"

"Why don't you ever listen? You keep walking into wars as if they're welcoming parties. Do you want to die?! Do you have a death wish? What the fuck is wrong with you?!" She's being mean, unfair. She doesn't care. If asking won't work, maybe screaming will. And she's exhausted. Exhausted of worrying about him every time he leaves. Exhausted of wishing he would listen. Exhausted of fearing he's the one that didn't make it back, because it's almost been him so many times by now.

"I had to Musa." His voice is soft, odd in comparison to the loud tone he usually takes when they argue about this topic.

"You always have to! You don't have to prove anything Riven. And you most certainly don’t have to die for no fucking reason!"

"You don't get it-"

"So explain it to me!" He sighs deeply, and closes his eyes. "No, Riven. Explain it. What don't I get?"

He finally opens his eyes, throws a string of colorful swears at the ceiling before moving his gaze back to her. "It's not just proving something. It's that if I go and… if I go, then one less specialist has to go. And that's one less person with people that care about them having to go. And that's one less tragic death, and then a whole lot less people hurt. If I go… who cares, you know? And, honestly, shouldn't it be me? A taste of my own medicine and all that. After all the shit I helped Rosalind do." She senses his bitterness, feels his anger and destitute.

He's an idiot.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

"And you're beautiful," he quips back. She watches that smirk that she's come to love make its way onto his face.

"Flattery won't get you very far in life, Riv." Except, maybe it will. Because somehow and for some reason she's here, and she's crying over him.

It's like he can read her mind, not the other way around, "I think it's gotten me pretty far as of right now. I mean, you're here." The look he gives her has her twitching in her seat and she has to remind herself that she still has more to say to him. She can't just let him off the hook that easily. He leans up to kiss her, and she places her hands on his chest, gently pushing him away.

"I care."

"What?" He's confused by her words.

"I care. If you go, and something happens. I care." She feels the surprise bloom from within him, and then a sense of overwhelming tenderness takes up his mind, and hers along with it. Her hands reach for him, " Come here."

This time, he obeys her. And as she kisses him, he cracks for her. Splinters for her. Lets her see him while he kisses her as if he's kissing her for the first time ever, ravaged and hungry for her. She sees it all- all of him falling into her and consequentially falling into place in her mind, in her heart. His insecurities, his fears, and his wishes. She doesn't shy away from him, but kisses him harder. His thoughts are exactly what she thought they were from the very beginning- a natural disaster. But she doesn't fear falling into them anymore, and in fact she thinks she likes them. She thinks she likes the way his mind works- ten emotions at one time battling to win out over one another. And when he pulls away, she likes the way his green eyes look at her like she's the whole world and the way his hands hold her tight enough for her to know that he doesn't think she's fragile but with enough care that she feels like she is all that he owns.

"Don't you ever," he's panting as he moves to place kisses along her jaw and at her collarbone, above her shoulders, anywhere the collar of her shirt will allow him. "Don't you ever pull away from me again."

She knows he's referring to the other afternoon, when he had left for the mission and she had closed off. "Why? Did I hurt your fragile ego?"

She's teasing, he's not. His hands are in her shirt and moving up, up, up until the offending piece of clothing is off of her. He's eager to kiss down her body, hands roaming the planes and curves that he must have memorized by now. He's kissing, kissing, kissing. Kissing away her tears, kissing right above her beating heart, kissing along her waistline. Frantic, needy, and-

Oh.

Oh. She thinks she's in love.

________________________________________________________________

The first time they slow down, she feels as though she has seen heaven.

Riven's lips on her lips, steady and firm yet gentle, as his hands lay splayed over her bare sides and his thumbs dig softly into the dips of her hipbones. One of her legs is tangled in the sheets around them and her other is hiked up above his hips, her heel digging into his spine. He moves inside of her, and when she feels her hips meet his, she slides her hands over his shoulders and lets her nails graze his back. He watches her below him, eyes asking if she's ok, she smiles at him and says, "Just… stay. Don't move for a bit."

And he does, closing the small space between them to catch her bottom lip between his teeth and pull on it before he continues with his love bites down her neck, behind her ears, onto her chest. He's making his way as far down as he can in their current position, and she's melting into him and fuck, she wants him to keep going. But she also wants him to slow down because she's on cloud nine right now and from up here she can see the stars in his eyes, can catch them between the kisses of his lips. Her hands move from his back, leaving behind what she can only assume is a mass of fresh red marks. They move to his chin as she drags him back up to meet her on that very cloud and then they're eye-level with one another once more. She feels the want form within him, she always does, but it’s an odd thing to actually see it emulated in his eyes. And there's something else there too, something she can't quite place and doesn't dare to assume of. When his lips brush hers for the umpteenth time, slowly shaping her name between them, she feels herself sink farther into him, a feat she had previously deemed impossible.

And her lips part in a whimper because oh good god, how had they never done this before? They were always so rushed, pulling at each other's clothes and stumbling into bed, falling into one another in a tangled mess of limbs and lust. Perhaps it was the fact that they had kept it in for so long, refusing to admit they liked each other and once they were together, not wanting to tell others for fear of shattering whatever fragile state they were in. Their relationship had started with fighting fueled by longing, innuendos charged with so many suggestions, and eventually an aching want that Musa still couldn’t wrap her mind around. Really, she shouldn't be surprised at how touch hungry the two of them had been at the beginning of the relationship. (How touch hungry they still were.) But right here in this moment, as she opens her eyes, she regrets not slowing down and taking him all in sooner.

He is a sight to behold, with tiny and larger scrapes all over his body that somehow added to his physique instead of taking away from it. They are tens of thousands of stars and she traces them over and over, forming constellations with his imperfections. The pads of her fingers run over the features of his face, committing every bit of him to memory, and as they skim the tiny scar above his left eyebrow, the question slips from her lips before she can stop herself.

"When did you get this one?"

He pulls away from her, just slightly so that he can see her face, and his eyes are darker than she's ever seen them as he lazily responds with a "Hmm?"

She's high on want and adrenaline, but she vaguely wonders if this is something he might not want to talk about. Too late to back out now. Plus, she'd like to know. "This scar. Above your eyebrow. How did you get it?"

Riven stiffens at her answer. She can feel his insecurity downing upon him, clouded by the desire and the want that still course through his body but slowly easing its way to the forefront of the battle that is his mind.

"I have them too," Musa whispers as she braces herself against his chest and heaves her body upward, brushing her lips against that very scar in question.

She moves back down again, and pulls her left arm slowly away from under him. She turns her head slightly to her left shoulder, using her index finger to point to a sliver of skin that's more taught and whiter than the rest of her. "I got this one when I was twelve. Tried to climb a tree that was too high off the ground. Had to get six stiches. My mom freaked out."

His eyeline follows her movements, and he stares at her shoulder for a few minutes. His gaze has her squirming a little, suddenly aware that she's naked in front of a boy she's very much into and that she has just pointed out one of the many flaws on her body. But then his eyes flicker upwards and he leans down and kisses her scar, just as she had kissed his.

"You're fucking perfect, you know that right?" She could cry.

"If you're trying to get in my pants, hate to break it to you, but they're already off," she teases, her voice soft and a smile on her lips. How else was she meant to respond?

He chuckles at her words, his laugh causing her to catch her breath as it does each and every time she hears it. It's an occasion that has become more common since they got together but which is still far and few in between. The sound vibrates off his body onto hers and has her writhing under him.

"Love, I would never consider your lack of garments a disappointment." He circles his hips above her, and she groans at the pressure. "And I would most certainly never forget being the one to take them off you, especially when you insist on making those noises."

Her eyes are blown wide as she grabs onto his forearm at the side of her head, where his fingers are buried in her hair. Her chest heaves up and down, up and down, heart beating so fast she's certain its rhythms are all in her mind and that it's no longer there. She's fairly sure she lost it somewhere between meeting him and getting here, to this moment.

He stops his teasing, opting instead to arch down once more and kiss the scar on her shoulder. He kisses it over and over until she feels her heartbeat slow down and her breath return to a somewhat normal pacing.

She tugs on his locks, silently motioning for him to come back up. Up he comes, and she's glad that she's somehow convinced him to continue denying her nothing.

"Tell me."

He knows she's referring to his scar.

They're nose to nose, foreheads touching, brown eyes boring into green ones.

"About a year and a half ago. Right when things started to get messy in my life. Messier than usual, I mean. Back then I was a bit of a nerd, hung out in the greenhouse all the time-"

"Yeah, I've heard a few stories from Terra," she cuts him off, a smile playing on her lips at the idea of Riven hunched over a lab bench with pretty vines all around him. It's a sight she hopes to one day see with her own two eyes, a side of him she knows she's so very close to opening up.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you know how much of a dick I was after I started distancing myself from them. Sky, he got real mad one day. We were in Specialism class, learning some new sword tricks. I said some shitty things and then he tried to play the Saint Sky card. I got mad, I fought dirty. Scraped his arm with the sword. He finally snapped at me, landed a good blow right above my eyebrow." He laughed a bitter laugh at the memory. "Nearly missed my eye, the wanker. He apologized for two months straight. Either way, we both ended up in the infirmary and I figured I couldn't get rid of him. He kept me around and I stayed, almost like when we were children and we fought over dumb shit like who was the taller. Only difference now is that his scar healed and mine stayed."

That last sentence was loaded with so much, and Musa wanted to ask more but she didn't want to push her luck. She smiled at him, nudging his nose with hers. "So you used to fight over who was taller? The mental image of a baby Sky and baby Riven getting angry over something like that is almost, dare I say, adorable?"

He scoffs. "We were not adorable! We were two very manly twelve-year-olds with very some very manly, very reasonable arguments."

"Mmm," she hums against his skin. "Is that what you two have to this day? Manly arguments?"

"Are we really bringing Sky into the conversation while we're in bed?" She laughs, a full on laugh that comes from within her because his words were not what she had expected. "If you must know, now we argue over who’s got the hotter girlfriend."

His eyes are all mischief when she shakes her head at him. "Glad to see you two have really grown up."

"And I'm glad that I got the hotter girlfriend, because I'm not sure how else you've managed to keep me completely turned on while bringing up my best friend in the middle of us fucking."

And then it's her turn to tease him, turning her head slightly to the side so that she can catch his earlobe between her teeth and whisper in his ear. "I'll make it up to you."

And then she's flipping them over so that she's on top and she feels his breath catch. She smirks down at him mischievously and then they're off again, finishing what they started. She makes sure to go slow, to feel every bit of him as she moves, catch every angle of him below her and store it in her mind for safekeeping.

And when it's over and he's lying on his stomach, back facing the ceiling, she moves herself on top of him once more. Only this time, she kisses every scar on his body, sometimes asking where and how he got them until he finally gets the hint and starts sharing their stories before she can even ask. There are so many of them, some tiny and some much more noticeable. All of them have stories. She vows to herself that she will one day know all of them. That she will be there to soothe the next scrape, the next trauma. With each one of her kisses, she can feel the natural disaster within him reach a rhythm, not quite silenced but at peace.

They don't sleep that night. Only once she's sure she's kissed every inch of his body does she finally worm her way back into his arms, but they're both wide awake at that point. His eyes watch her in the dark, hair loose and splayed around them like some sort of blanket. It had been in pigtails at one point in the night.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks.

"I…I just," words knot in his mouth. His eyebrows furrow at her in frustration as he tries to untangle and spell them out for her. "God, I love you."

Just for that, she kisses his body all over again. And again. And again.

________________________________________________________________

Their first times have been nothing short of unexpected. It's never how either of them imagined all these firsts would go. They're not soft and tender, though there are moments like that in-between, but neither had expected that. Their raging passions did not allow for it. But what they had expected was a lot more arguing, a lot more push and pull. Instead, they seemed to somehow fall right into each other- crash and burn style, no holding back.

Their firsts were painful lessons that needed to be learned. They were gnawing pains that needed to be had, throbbing emotions that had to be felt and delt with. They were stinging feelings, these firsts- stinging because they felt too much too soon and too fast and neither knew what to do with all of that expect for let it bubble until it exploded before them in an aching manner.

Their aching firsts.

#rivusarevolution2021 #rivusa #this is pure angst #I can't say I'm sorry for writing it #firsts

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omgrachwrites · 3 years

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The Book of Love - Chapter Four

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Ravenclaw!Reader

Summary: After a breakup leaves you heartbroken and miserable, things start to change for the better when you begin exchanging notes in a library book with a mystery boy.

Warnings: fluff!!

Words: 2293

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this part! Please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all!

Chapter Four

The morning of the first Hogsmeade trip dawned with a beautiful clear morning but there was a blustery wind that caused leaves on the trees to rocket to the floor. For once, you were up early, sketching the beautiful landscape. It delighted you to see the shades of amber and burnt orange everywhere. Hagrid’s hut was almost blanketed by the hulking trees of the forest and when the weak sunlight sparkled through the remaining leaves, it cast the hut in a heavenly orange glow.

You felt like there would be great promise for the day and you knew that it would be a fantastic day. Maybe it was because Hogsmeade was an exceptionally beautiful village, or maybe it was because you know that you would see Rem- your friends again. You weren’t quite sure what had been happening to you for the last few days. Before you went to sleep, unbeknownst to you why, your thoughts went to Remus and it made falling asleep all that much easier.

When you woke up in the dark of night he was the first thing on your mind, almost like you had just had a dream about him. You refused to feel that way about anybody – well apart from your mystery boy – you couldn’t give someone else a chance to hurt you, especially not Remus. You didn’t think your heart would be able to take it.

With a sigh, you put your sketchbook down and you decided to get dressed in warm clothes and you combed your hair. About ten minutes later, Lyra woke up running her fingers through her fluffy hair and you smiled over at her.

“Are you coming to Hogsmeade with me and the others?”

She groaned as she threw an arm over her eyes and shook her head, “no, I can’t bear to face Sirius, his favour changes like the wind,” she removed her arm and pouted and you were sure that you could see tears sparkling in her eyes. She looked so hurt.

You bit your bottom lip, you weren’t going to tell her that you told her so. She had been seeing Sirius for a few weeks before he broke it off and started sleeping with someone else. Seeing the same person for a few weeks was equal to a serious relationship for Sirius, “I’m sorry Lyra,” you sighed, it was the only thing you could think of to say that wouldn’t hurt her.

She smiled brightly as she got out of bed and walked over to you to give you a tight hug before she kissed your cheek affectionately, “don’t apologise, you told me so and I should have listened to you but I just wanted to have hope. Have a good day today Y/N, with Remus,” she added with a smirk as she got back into bed.

You rolled your eyes as you threw your pillow at her causing her to laugh, “Remus and I are just friends,” for now, that little voice in the back of your mind spoke and you immediately shut it out. You wouldn’t think like that, “see you later, I’ll bring you back some sweets,” you grinned.

Lyra narrowed her eyes as she spoke in what tried to be a menancing voice but it didn’t really work because she was so tired, “yeah, you’d better.”

You shook your head in amusement as you left the common room and went to have breakfast at the Gryffindor table with your friends. After a hurried breakfast, you and the gang walked up the lane that led from Hogwarts and into Hogsmeade. You huddled into your scarf as the cold autumn wind picked up.

You smiled up at Remus, though you could hardly look him in the eyes, not when you were sure that you were having dreams about him. He looked much better compared to how he looked when you saw him last, “are you feeling better Remus? You really do look much better.”

Panic flashed in his eyes for a just a second before he looked at you with a dimpled smile, “I’m feeling much better, thank you for asking Y/N.”

You smiled back at him as you looked over Remus’ shoulder and saw Sirius grinning at the both of you. When Sirius noticed you looking over at him he gave you a thumbs up, causing you to roll your eyes as you turned away from him. The rest of the walk up to the village was rather uneventful as you chatted with Lily and Peter.

When you got to the beautiful village you noticed that it had been lavishly decorated for Halloween and there was the matter of where to go first.

“Well, I want to go to Zonkos,” Sirius spoke up first and James and Peter both nodded in agreement while Remus groaned.

“I’m voting for Honeydukes,” Remus said and you supposed that pulling pranks got a bit tiresome after a while.

You also spoke up before you could stop yourself, “I’m with Remus, I second his vote for Honeydukes.”

Lily looked between the two of you with a conspiring look on her face, “well, how about we split up? You guys can go to Honeydukes and we’ll go to Zonkos. We can meet up later on in The Three Broomsticks for a pint of Butterbeer,” she smiled innocently but you knew what she was trying to do.

You glared at her before looking up at Remus who was peering down at you with worried eyes, quickly you transformed your face into a smile, “sounds good.”

Remus nodded and smiled at you, looking thoroughly relieved, “yeah it does, come on Y/N.”

Off the two of you went in the direction of the sweet shop and you refused to look back at your traitourous friends. As soon as you walked into the warm sweet smelling shop you inhaled the toffee scented air. Remus made a beeline for the chocolate section, his face lighting up like a child’s and you smiled at how excited he was.

“Chocolate, seriously?” you giggled as you walked over to the Sugar Quills to find they had brought out a limited edition strawberry flavour.

Remus let out a little gasp of mock offence, “chocolate makes everything better, seriously, everything,” he looked over at you with a warm smile, “but I’m guessing that you’re more of a sweet person?”

You nodded in confirmation as you grabbed a handful of boxes, “I do, particularly Sugar Quills,” you loved the way they made your lips numb with sugar and you loved the sickly sweet taste of them.

Remus snorted out a laugh as he grabbed a huge assortment of chocolate bars, “I bet that you’re one of those people who snack on them in class,” his voice was distracted but he looked at you with sparkling hazel eyes.

Grinning at him, you nodded as you picked out some sweets for Lyra, “I am one of those people, I especially like eating them in Potions. Slughorn definitely knows but turns a blind eye which I’ll be forever grateful for.”

Something flickered in Remus’ eyes, something that looked like hope with just a dash of longing, it was gone as quickly as it had come so you must have been imagining it, “you eat them in Potions class?”

You raised an eyebrow at him as you nodded, you weren’t sure why that part was so important to him, “yeah but I’m sure lots of other people do too.”

“Of course,” Remus sighed, looking a little disappointed but you just couldn’t understand why, “are you ready to go?” he asked and you nodded without speaking a word and the both of you went to buy your sweets.

There was still some time before you had to meet the others so you went to the post office, you wanted to look at the different array of owls and you marvelled at the miniscule owls and you had to send some post. Your grandmother had always been very supportive of your art and she had always wanted you to send her some of the drawings you had done. Today you were finally granting her wish.

All the way through your time at the post office, Remus was silent and it seemed like the whole mood had changed. You were worried that you had done something wrong, “Remus, are you okay? Have I done something to upset you?”

Remus looked over at you with alarm plain on his face, he smiled warmly at you and you almost felt better and he reached down to squeeze your hand gently, “of course you didn’t Y/N. I’m fine, just in a bit of a weird mood, it’s nothing that you’ve done, I promise,” you nodded but couldn’t help feeling he was only saying this to ease your worry but you were sure that you had done something.

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

It had been one hell of an evening for Remus because James and Sirius had been arguing all night over a prank that had gone wrong and landed them in detention. They didn’t normally argue but when they did, it was really bad and everyone seemed to suffer as a result. As a result of their arguing, Lily and Alice went up to the dormitory to spend the rest of their evening up there. Remus had soon started to get tired of their endless fighting so he went for a walk around the castle.

The velvety night sky was so clear that Remus could see the stars for miles so he decided to go where he could see them better. When he walked up to the Astronomy Tower, he found that he wouldn’t be alone.

Y/N was standing against the railings with a sketchbook and she turned around when she heard Remus coming and she smiled at him. She was beautifully gleaming in the starlight.“Hi Remus,” she smiled as she put the tip of a Sugar Quill into her mouth.

Remus gulped and watched the movement of her lips with flushed cheeks, “sorry to bother you Y/N, can I join you?”

Y/N grinned, “you’re not bothering me at all! Of course you can join me. What brings you here?” she asked as she went back to her sketchbook.

Remus huffed out a sigh as he sat on the steps, running a hand through his hair, “James and Sirius are arguing and it’s complete hell, they manage to make everyone suffer. What are you doing up here, did you just come up here to draw?”

“Oh Merlin, aren’t they awful when they argue? They got into a really bad argument when Sirius first moved in with James so he had to come and stay with me for a little while. And yeah, I just thought that I could use the practice and Lucius is on his shit again,” she sighed and Remus could hear the sadness in her voice.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he said biting his lip.

Y/N shrugged as she shot a smile over her shoulder at him, “it’s really no big deal, thank you though.”

Remus nodded and they fell into a comfortable silence as Y/N drew and Remus caught up with the book he was reading. It felt really nice to know that they could spend time together but do their own thing. After a little while, Y/N shut her sketchbook and Remus closed his book as he followed suit.

For a good amount of time Y/N and Remus sat around the Astronomy Tower watching the stars and pointing out all the different constellations as they munched on Sugar Quills.

Remus looked over at Y/N as she looked up at the sky with wonder and joy on her face and all he wanted to do was lean over and kiss her but he thought that that would probably scare her off, and he really didn’t want to do that.

His heart jumped in his chest as Y/N let out a contented sigh as she rested her head against his shoulder and Remus wrapped an arm around their shoulders as they watched the stars together. Is this what it would feel like to be hers? If so, then he wanted to be with her even more.

As it got later, the clouds covered the stars and the magical spell that had been cast over the teenagers seemed to shatter as Y/N sat up, her fingers pulling through her hair with a nervous look on her face, “it’s getting late. Maybe we should head back before we get into trouble, I really don’t fancy getting detention,” Y/N smiled.

Remus nodded, feeling a little deflated and disappointed, he wished that he could spend more time with her, “I’ll walk you back to your common room.”

“Thanks Remus,” she beamed at him.

As they walked through the moonlit corridors they managed to avoid Peeves and Filch’s cat Mrs Norris, “Merlin, that cat is so annoying,” Remus almost growled and Y/N laughed as she nodded in agreement.

Too soon, they were outside the Ravenclaw common room and Remus swallowed as Y/N looked up at him beneath her eyelashes, “thanks for walking me back Remus, I really appreciate it. I really enjoyed spending the night with you. Maybe we could study together sometime this week?”

Remus smiled and jumped at the chance to spend more time with her, “you’re welcome, I had a good time too and of course, I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

Y/N beamed as she gave Remus a tight hug before she kissed him on the cheek, “night Remus,” she waved at him as she disappeared into the common room.

“Goodnight Y/N,” Remus muttered though he knew that she couldn’t hear him as his fingers ran over the place she had kissed him.

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@hp-imagines-07 @smiithys @pregnant-piggy @unexpectedurl @siriusblackspam @elayneblack @amelie-black @hxrgreeves @roseyrams @blackpinkdolan @yuptha-tsme @reylo-hope

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mercurygray · 3 years

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It’s Motivation Monday, and with that in mind, I come bearing an announcement about this week’s project!

This week, I’m taking a break from being Thirsty on Thursday to be Thankful instead, and one of the things I'm thankful for this year is - all of you!

Really and truly, some of the best things that have come out of me being locked inside with a story for the last eight months have been the people. It's been amazing being part of this big, many-splendored community of writers and readers, in the Band of Brothers fandom and beyond, and as a thanks for letting me in and caring, I thought I'd share some of that love back by sharing the things that brought us all here - our characters!

Chances are pretty good that you're following this blog because you love a good female lead, and I want to share some of those original ladies (and gender-non-conforming persons) around a little more - so here's how this is going to work!

Drop a message in my box describing your OC a little to me, and reminding me of the fic I can find them in. Think of this like...introducing me to a friend at a cocktail party. Why should I be friends with this person, or read their story?

An example: "This is my friend Joan. She joined the Army to follow a long military tradition in her family, and she lives to prove people wrong. A woman who just wants to be taken seriously at her job, who she's making heart-eyes at is pretty obvious ...to everyone but him. You can find her (and a lot of her friends) in The Darkening Sky."

Then when I post it, I'll add some links to your AO3/Wattpad/Tumblr so people can go do some reading! I need some time to do my homework finding links to your stuff, which is why I’m posting this now.

No characters of your own? Maybe you’re ... particularly thankful for a member of the Girl Gang? Maybe you loaned me a character you want to see some love? Maybe you’d like to give a shoutout to an original character you really enjoyed reading this year?

There were already a lot of great OFCs when I joined this fandom, and I know that more have been added that I just haven’t gotten to meet yet - so let’s fix that!

#motivation monday #Thankful Thursday #always reblog strong female leads #i'm gonna rec it

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thanksjro · 4 years

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Dark Cybertron Chapter 3: This One’s All About Skywarp. Honest!

It’s a beautiful day during Cybertron’s apocalypse, and Starscream is talking to a corpse to work through his emotions. He goes through a very brief rundown of what happened last issue, I guess because Swerve’s too busy being in space to do the Story So Far, and caps it off with an apology to Metalhawk over killing him. Rattrap watches this go down in the background, because this is Skywarp’s toy tie-in issue.

After this very incriminating conversation, Starscream goes out to see to the massive crowd standing outside, including Scoops’ little Targetmaster buddies.

I don’t care for that man’s beard.

Starscream promises to go talk to the Titan, though he really doesn’t want to, and Rattrap catches up to him to touch base. The two of them go to see Megatron, who’s still trapped in the forcefield hamster ball Wheeljack stuffed inside his chest back in RID. Starscream teases Rattrap about trying to be conniving, comparing it to his own endeavors as the Decepticon SIC, and offers a bit of advice.

Implying that Starscream hasn’t been flying by the seat of his proverbial pants since he became a main character in Phase Two.

Starscream, having met his daily quota of rubbing his success in Megatron’s face, goes off to see what he can do about this Titan situation.

Over at the Titan itself, the Autobots and Decepticons are duking it out, with the man of the hour gracing us with his presence.

Outstanding, you funky little robot.

Arcee tries a little banter, but it falls flat, and instead she just decides to sword fight a cat. Bumblebee asks Soundwave just what the hell he thinks he’s doing, and Soundwave gives a complete non-answer in the form of Decepticon propaganda, because anything else would make things too easy. This is where Starscream shows up and has his little chat with the Titan.

Back over in prison, Rattrap’s getting the skinny on the dark prophecy Scoop introduced into the narrative last issue. Rattrap wants to know just how this information got passed around so well outside of jail, and Scoop suggests that there are people who perhaps have a vetted interest in what may or may not be happening with Starscream. Then Rattrap makes it weird by A) not being terribly concerned about the potential end of the world and B) being impressed by the idea that Starscream somehow planned said end of the world.

This Skywarp issue is really good.

Over with the Lost Light, Ultra Magnus has taken command, and the lads are about to make the quantum jump to chase after Jhiaxus. But wait! Something’s off! The ship’s moving in a way that it shouldn’t be! Very odd, that. Brainstorm calls with answers, asking Magnus to grab Getaway, for some friggin’ reason, and head down to the shuttle bay.

Getaway asks Magnus how it feels to be big man on campus, and Magnus seems to think it’s a bit overrated.

Wow, someone needs to go talk to Xaaron about maybe thinking through his debate topics before he posts them, so he doesn’t get pegged as a space racist. The Universal Killswitch happened, like, last week, my dude.

The two of them get to the shuttle bay to discover that Metroplex’s thumb- which they picked up back in Spotlight: Trailcutter- is floating, and more or less pushing the Lost Light off-course. Getaway is pretty jazzed to see this thing on the ship, sort of missing the bigger picture. Brainstorm hypothesizes that Metroplex is using his severed thumb to guide the Lost Light to him.

Not sure why Getaway needed to be here for this.

Back on Cybertron, Everyone watches as Starscream flies up to the Titan. Arcee is ready to blast him out of the sky with a gun as big as she is, but Bumblebee wants to see where this goes. This pisses Prowl the hell off, and he starts yelling, but Bumblebee tells him to shut up. Bumblebee tells a lot of people to shut up in “Dark Cybertron”.

So we’ve got a team-up going on between the Autobots and the Decepticons- Bumblebee says it isn’t, but it pretty much is. Soundwave and Prowl get into a bit of a scuff, as Starscream lands and asks the Titan to chat.

Yeah, that doesn’t really work out too well.

Starscream manages to escape the Titan death blast in his alt, as the poor bastards on the ground below begin to dissolve into black fizz.

But Skywarp’s okay, so it can’t be all bad!

Yeeeeah, Skywarp.

Prowl starts yelling at Bumblebee again, as if he can’t see that the friggin’ death wave the Titan shot out of its face is still heading for Iacon, Starscream just barely managing to stay ahead of it. He lands as it hits, screaming about how Cybertron is his and he’s not gonna let some murder energy to steal his thunder, bracing his arms out as if that’ll do anything. Everyone watching him do this has about the expression you’d expect from witnessing such madness.

As the Iaconian populace gets dusted, someone else wakes up from the dead. It’s Metalhawk, and it’s time for him to become a tool of the narrative.

Metalhawk launches into the air and lands on top of Starscream, interrupting his personal diatribe to gripe about how he killed him. Still, there are bigger fish to fry, as he kicks Starscream through a wall and walks into the room where they keep Megatron.

Metalhawk releases Megatron from his hamster ball prison and carries him away, despite Starscream maybe insinuating that Megatron is dead somehow? It’s not super clear. Anyway, Metalhawk must do some pretty intense arm exercises, because he carries Megatron out and shoots into the air, holding him one-handed to his side.

Eat your veggies, kids, and you too can kidnap an entire warlord.

As the city falls apart, Rattrap and Scoop enter the scene, the prison likely having collapsed in the aftershocks of the death wave. Good thing they’re giant robots who can’t be killed by mere crushing damage. Rattrap tries to connive, but Scoop is more concerned with the fact that many people are dying, because he’s a somewhat decent person. Some of these people have begun to turn on Starscream, who takes it about as well be you’d expect.

Back on the Lost Light, the lads have decided to go find Metroplex, and to hell with bringing Jhiaxus to justice. At least for now. Of course, Ratchet tries to argue that they should do what Orion wanted them to do, but Orion isn’t here right now, is he? And Orion isn’t the space pope at this present time, now is he? So yeah. Metroplex time. They quantum jump, ending up underwater, with said water swarming with robots. That might be an issue, especially since they don’t seem to be terribly friendly.

Back in the Crystal City with Shockwave, Metalhawk’s dropped off the package, and Shockwave reminds us that he installed a space bridge in Megatron’s torso. Scientists sure do like to shove random bullshit into Megatron’s torso.

Hey.

Let’s talk about the NAILs for a second.

This is Tappet. I’ve been calling him Hat Guy up until this point, but his name is Tappet.

Everything Tappet done in the last 20+ issues of RID can be explained without him being the subject of the sentence:

The Decepticons kicked Tappet’s ass. Prowl sent Tappet to prison. Metalhawk bailed Tappet out of prison. Metalhawk brought Sky-Byte to the trashcan fire to talk to Tappet and some other neutrals. Starscream takes off his top as Tappet watches.

The point I’m trying to make here is that Tappet doesn’t actually do anything. None of the NAILs actually do anything, other than die and fill out crowd shots. Sometimes they bitch about the current situation, but even then, a lot of the time, those more vocal NAILs were actually involved in the war at some point.

This is an issue, because we’ve been presented with this entirely new group that’s in direct opposition of the war caused by every character we’d met prior to The Death of Optimus Prime.

And they have zero agency within the story. Shit just happens around them and they react. In fact, one of the major point points of RID is whether or not the Autobots should let the NAILs have agency within the very government that rules them, and it is such a point of contention that it takes literal in-story months and several disasters for them to reach a consensus. A decision that barely involves input from Metalhawk, the guy who is a NAIL, and is meant to be their advocate. Metalhawk, who is supposed to be on the same level as Bumblebee in terms of sway in the narrative.

At first, he did- he was the subtly conniving bastard who would trip Bumblebee up in front of others to make him look bad, and then deny anything of the sort happened if questioned. It was an interesting dynamic with a character that was new to the continuity. Metalhawk was interesting.

Then Starscream got involved, and Metalhawk’s role was reduced to yes-man and character motivation to both of them, because conniving is Starscream’s thing, and obviously we can’t have two bastards gang up on poor, sweet lil’ Bumblebee.

Who had a remote control that could blow up people’s heads if they pissed him off.

You remember when Bumblebee was the kid appeal character? Because I do.

The point is, the NAILs exist, but their existence isn’t justified within the story. They’re set-dressing, not characters. And now Metalhawk in particular is a prop for Shockwave, and somehow I doubt the other guys are going to be doing a hell of a lot in this story.

I dunno, it just seems like a bit of a waste.

Anyway, Skywarp sure was present in his toy tie-in issue, huh? Remember when he did that thing? And the stuff? Ah man, that was so cool!

Yeah, someone probably crossed their I’s and dotted their T’s on this one, because I’m pretty friggin’ sure this wasn’t meant to be his, even if the exclusive cover says otherwise.

#transformers #jro #dark cybertron #issue 3 #rid #exrid #issue 23 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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galaxina-the-pyro · 4 years

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Candace Against the Universe Predictions

Note: This is MY LIST of possible outcomes that can occur in the movie - they may differ from what your predictions are, and that’s okay. This was just made for fun.

(~)

Doofenshmirtz and Isabella’s duet (which, yes, they ARE going to have a duet in the movie, this was confirmed) is going to either be a rap battle, or a song about the two having to work together to solve a problem (I really want it to be a rap battle)

Doofenshmirtz’s reasoning for having a rivalry with Isabella stems from the fact that he doesn’t want a child telling him what to do - by the end of the movie, though, he grows to respect Isabella

Isabella might remind Dr. D of Vanessa when she was her age

Phineas and Candace have an emotional argument about how Candace would rather live on a planet without her brothers than go back home where everyone is concerned and stuff - this leads to Phineas saying they never should’ve come to rescue her and things get really emotional after that

Phineas, Ferb, and the gang listen to some of Doofenshmirtz’s backstories during the trip, and are immediately fascinated by them - they don’t doubt a single tale, but it leads to them asking a lot of questions that never get answers

Phineas, Ferb, and Doofenshmirtz build an inator together

The big bad villain of the movie (if there is one) creates a doomsday machine meant to destroy any planet that goes against his/her people’s way of thinking (the entirety of Earth included), and Doofenshmirtz saves literally everyone by installing a self-destruct button on it, which the main villain accidentally presses

Candace and Vanessa get kidnapped at the same time rather than separately

Perry somehow someway has a musical number in all this - somehow, he sings something, possibly in his head

Doofenshmirtz shares his stories about how he keeps getting beaten up by a platypus to the other kids, and these are the only stories that Phineas and the others don’t quite buy, since, you know, platypuses don’t do much - Doofenshmirtz ALMOST name drops Perry before something happens that totally interrupts him

There will be at least ONE Phinabella moment - at LEAST

Before getting kidnapped, Candace gets the impression that Jeremy is going to break up with her for either not showing up to the game mentioned in the preview, or possibly ruining the game in her attempts to bust Phineas and Ferb

Phineas’ present shown in the preview was for Candace, possibly on another day where he and Ferb are trying to make amends to her for something that probably happened previously - this present is brought with them on their trip to save Candace, and Phineas is determined to give this gift to her

The unknown gift is what makes Candace cry (again, that’s been confirmed to happen in the movie as well), and makes her realize that she can’t live in a world without her brothers, no matter how insane they are

Candace sees that weird imaginary zebra that calls her Kevin, and he actually gives some sound advice - or not. Either way he has a speaking role

The aliens attempt to sacrifice Candace (and probably Vanessa) to some kind of god/goddess

Isabella is trying to earn her “Space Travel Rescue” patch in this movie - she also earns several other space related patches

Isabella’s patches are brought into question by Doofenshmirtz, which probably starts the conflict between them as Isabella attempts to prove she can do literally ANYTHING she sets her mind to - however, he still ends up questioning them, not because he doubts Isabella’s abilities, but because he wonders why anyone would want to earn patches involving shrimp net repair, sap collecting, and other nonsensical accomplishments. He also questions how there are space-themed patches and WHY

There is a sad, cute song in this movie, and I will stand by that

Candace befriends an alien - this alien may or may not be the main antagonist of the movie, but said alien shares in Candace’s frustrations over not being taken seriously, not being appreciated, and having her “hopes and dreams” dashed by younger siblings

We learn the NAME of Phineas and Candace’s biological dad, which is, coincidentally, Lawrence - a different Lawrence to be sure, but still, his name is Lawrence, probably to hammer in to fans’ heads that their bio-dad doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things

Isabella’s dad has a speaking role

Irving was GOING to be a part of this adventure, but was inevitably left behind - they gang once in a while mentions him, acting like he’s there when he actually wasn’t

Phineas actually snaps at Ferb or Isabella or whoever about saving Candace, being super worried about her and stuff - he apologizes immediately

Ferb ends up having another uplifting speech, that dissolves into a wave of frustration as he goes to destroy the aliens that kidnapped his sister

Phineas, Ferb, and the gang find Perry in space - no one questions how he got there, not even Doofenshmirtz. Maybe Candace and Vanessa do but they stay quiet

Vanessa learns that Perry’s family is the Flynn-Fletcher’s

Candace and Vanessa have a duet

Monogram constantly interrupts Perry on his adventure, leading to Perry eventually throwing away his communicator - he feels a sense of freedom that is brief upon getting a new one when he gets home

Schnitzel gets a cameo

No she doesn’t. That’s not actually possible. This was a test to see if you actually read this

There’s a “death scene” in this movie, but the character who “dies” is okay

Milo’s brief presence in the movie inevitably is what causes the events to play out

Candace, Vanessa, and Isabella all sing a song together

Buford ends up using the canoe (that he carries throughout the entire movie, that was also confirmed) for everything except for what a canoe is supposed to be used for

Buford has an “I am so in love with her right now” moment (if it’s with Vanessa, Ferb ends up Vulcan Pinching him for seemingly no reason)

There will be a very touching Canderemy scene

The alien that teams up with Phineas, Ferb, and the gang plus Doofenshmirtz either turns traitor, or makes a noble sacrifice in order to ensure their safety

The alien is probably the younger sibling of the alien Candace befriends

Meap has an appearance in the movie, whether it’s a cameo or him playing a very small part in their overall adventure

After returning to earth Doofenshmirtz claims he’ll never go to outer space again, but then suddenly gets a sense of foreboding as Milo and Melissa walk passed him from far behind, hinting at certain events in Milo Murphy’s Law

Weird Al has a musical number in this movie (not Milo. Just Weird Al)

There’s a montage on when Phineas, Ferb, and Candace were much younger (bonus points if younger Isabella appears in this montage at least once)

Phineas, Ferb, and the gang sing a song together (probably about the power of friendship or something, I dunno)

One of the characters keeps saying space puns and drives everyone crazy (I’m voting on Phineas, but Buford is also a good contender for this, probably a better one in fact)

Phineas and Ferb both cry in this movie

There are nods to Isabella and Baljeet’s heritages (cuz I think that would be neat)

The Fireside Girls help the gang out from Earth, much like in the episode “Out to Launch”

In fact, all the episodes involving Phineas and Ferb going into space are mentioned in this episode - one such mention gets a “but that hasn’t happened yet” response from Ferb

Phineas, Ferb, and the gang end up getting captured

There’s more than one epic fight scene in this movie

One of the items that caused the possible disaster at the “big game” mentioned in the preview was the very t-shirt canon that Candace uses to fight off the alien invasion

Isabella ends up nearly admitting her feelings to Phineas when the gang are in a deadly situation with seemingly no way out - they’re either rescued by Doofenshmirtz or Candace

At the end of the movie (probably post credits), although the aliens are defeated, they end up abducting Thaddeus and Thor’s sister, Mandy - instead of helping her, they decide to go play video games

Baljeet has a musical number about the probabilities of them being able to save Candace (which is very slim); Phineas and the others keep being positive while ultimately ignoring Baljeet’s warnings

Somehow, Klimpaloon makes an appearance; we ALL know the Giant Floating Baby Head is gonna appear, so what’s the point?

Doofenshmirtz and Vanessa have a very sweet father-daughter moment (maybe one that hints at Doofenshmirtz’s future reformation, but I dunno)

Vanessa and Norm also have a sweet moment, as the reason why she was captured was because Norm is considered her younger brother, much to Doofenshmirtz’s chagrin

Vanessa and Ferb talk to each other once in this movie

Vanessa and Monty are dating in the time frame of this movie - whether Monty actually shows up in the movie or even should show up in the movie, I dunno

Isabella teases Ferb about his crush on Vanessa before he shoots back about her crush on Phineas - all while Phineas is standing there, completely oblivious

Phineas and Ferb actually have an argument

Phineas has a Candace moment. I dunno what that would look like, but that’s what I wanna see

The couple with the wife who’s like “What did you think a(n) [insert specific thing] was going to fall from the sky?” make an appearance

Isabella gets lost in Phineasland at least once

At the end of the movie, business goes back to usual - Candace attempts to bust the boys and fails, but she’s surprisingly cheery about it, probably saying something like “Ah~...home sweet home.”

The movie ends with the guitar riff, like in any Phineas and Ferb episode

#phineas and ferb #candace against the universe #catu #predictions #catu spoilers #phinbella #phinabella #canderemy #ferbnessa #montessa

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mcfanely · 4 years

Text

A Mirror Image

Cole has always been aware of the Oni blood that ran through his veins. He didn't remember the exact moment when he'd been told that he wasn't entirely human, it just felt like he always knew. But he did remember the sheer about of training and time he put into perfecting the use of his inherited abilities. Shape-shifting? It was second nature, so easy to use that it was almost laughable. Yet, in battle or on missions, it became an invaluable tool. It was something he wouldn't shy away from using, no matter if the only other people who knew about his lineage was Sensei Wu and Zane.

5485 words

Sneaking through a near pitch black warehouse was never something that Cole would personally plan to do on a Saturday night, but it wasn't like he wanted to be stooping between wooden crates of presumably recently stored goods, or brushing specks of dust off his gi as he moved through areas that looked like they hadn't been swept in far too long. Which wasn't good, or very hygienic since according to the stock report he'd read a few days earlier, the crates that were towering high around him contained perishables. Foods; imported from some of the further reaches of Ninjago.

Presumably.

That doubt was the entire reason why Cole, along with the rest of the team, were moving through the shadows. Trying in vain to stay hidden when it felt like every footfall created a far too loud echo, which then flowed around the wide expanse of the building. If there were people inside - other people - then it was a minor shock that none of them had been alerted sooner. It felt like every drawn breath was pushing the silence of the environment, that the next exhale could bring down a wave of criminals right on top of them.

Or maybe that was just past experiences talking, and all the training they'd all been through. In high stress situations such as a stake-out, their senses were bound to be heightened. Their hearing would be sensitive, especially to every minor noise that wound up being made. No one could be entirely quiet at every second, it just wasn't possible. The brush of clothes on clothes, light footsteps, even the beat of a heart just felt that little bit too oppressive; all unavoidable. Adrenaline ramped high caused hands to shake, even minutely. Made breathing heavier, caused eyes to track onto even the barest of movement such as a tiny dust mote that moved into his line of sight.

Cole brought his hand up to wave the minuscule obstruction away before he thought better of himself and dropped it back down to his side. He needed to focus, keep his breathing measured and keep his eyes on where he was going, which thankfully wasn't all that hard for him.

His team, wherever they were in the warehouse, they would be having a much harder time finding their way around. In what should be a closed off building, as the clock was more than close to chiming for midnight, it was dark outside with a waxing moon high in the sky. But inside? When they'd been peering through a shattered window not ten minutes earlier, Jay had remarked that he could just barely see the outlines of the wooden storage shelves that all but lined the entire building.

Cole had just given a small hum of acknowledgement, peering through the window himself, before they'd moved on to their actual entry point into the building.

There was no way that he was going to outwardly admit that he could see the darkened insides as easily as he could see his hand if he held it directly in front of his face in the middle of a sunny day. Or maybe not to that extent, but darkness had never really been an issue for him. Actually, he'd never acknowledged darkness as something that could pose a disadvantage until Sensei Wu had mentioned in passing that not everyone had the ability to see in the pitch black like he did.

That; whilst some animals could also see well during the night, was an ability that was unique to Cole in regards to it occurring in tandem with his supposed humanity.

Even though he wasn't entirely human to begin with, and he could thank his grandmother for that. For the fact that whenever he moved past the towering walls of stored products, he could see them easily. Everything may have been sharply tinted with a monochrome grey and just that slight bit blurred along the edges, but he could thank her that he wasn't totally blind like everyone else who was also currently, hopefully, successfully finding their own ways through the packed building.

Jay and Nya had entered through the far side of the warehouse to where everyone else had come in, and were ideally edging their way towards the centre. Kai and Lloyd had taken the ceiling rafters, hopping from beam to beam and providing the birds eye view of the situation below. Zane was doing the same as Cole, working solo, moving in to where he was sure he could hear whispered voices floating up from a few aisles to his left.

Cole paused for a second, his eyes slipping closed in silent frustration and realisation that maybe… Maybe it would have been a good idea for me to have taken the ceiling, since I can actually see, and Lloyd and Kai can't…

That wasn’t a smart move.

It was a brief mental chiding, but he hadn't intentionally given them the risky part of the job. He would never put someone in danger. Ever. It was just something that had slipped his mind, and either way, if the plan went off like it was supposed to then in the next few minutes the warehouse lighting would be back in action and they all would have clear vision as they moved in and carried out their respective roles.

It had started with a call from Ninjago's Police Commissioner regarding some unusual activity that some of the officers had been noticing, within the warehouse district of the city. Groups of people coming and going in the cover of night, slipping into the giant buildings through small gaps that had corroded into the metal clad walls or by forcing their way inside with bolt cutters to traverse the industrial locks and chains that were used to secure the imports overnight. Cole had spent a good portion of his morning earlier that week on the phone, sat at the dining table in the Monastery with a notepad in front of him, a pen being worried between his teeth and a group of nosy and curious brothers poking their heads not so subtly around the door. All to see what the situation was. Talking with the Commissioner, writing down information as it was provided, along with determining the issue at hand and what was going to be done to address it; it had been a long and busy few hours.

Overall, the problem had been easy to summarise for the group of ninja as they had all but piled into the room when they'd finally heard Cole's professional, "Yes, of course. Thank you for calling, I'll start planning right away and give you a call over the next day or so, so we can coordinate a joint plan of action. Right. Yes. Got it. Goodbye."

The phone hadn't even been moved from his ear before he'd basically gained a lapful of Jay as he'd come barrelling inside with an excited and sing-songed question of, "Is it a ninja problem?"

Cole gave a short nod, before he began to spread his few pages of notes out over the table for them to be read. "The Commissioner has reason to believe there's a gang, or a group of people, breaking into the storage buildings west of the city and stealing some of the products… Or--"

"Or?" The question was asked far too quickly, even though Cole had been about to finish his train of thought. He shot Kai a pointed look, and a raised eyebrow. Though everyone's excitement was understandable. The past few weeks had been fairly quiet, so anything vaguely interesting was more enough to break up the monotony.

A joint operation with Ninjago PD? That was exciting.

"Some Officers seem to think that these people aren't taking stuff, but leaving things hidden. Inside the crates." Cole carded a hand through his hair slowly, "I need to make a plan, but the basis is we all move in and apprehend the criminals, and then the police move in and make the arrests, scout the area, crack the case. And all that." He waved a hand loosely. "We just go in and make sure no one gets hurt. Easy."

It had taken a few days, and many calls and scribbled notes on post-its, torn pages of notebooks and maybe one or two sleepless nights, but Cole had a plan in place, and the Police on standby outside acting as a surrounding force. No matter what, the people inside the warehouse? They would be leaving in cuffs. All it would take was for Cole's plan to go down without a hitch.

Easy.

Everyone knew their job, what they had to do, it was just a matter of time.

Cole paused mid-step just as he was turning a corner around a small pile of boxes, a sharp drag of air through his teeth ended in a clamped mouth, held breath as his eyes focused on a small group of people in front of him. Three people, two males and one female, all fairly well built and each armed with their own blaring flashlight in one hand, and an assortment of weapons in the other. Namely from what he could see, a couple baseball bats and one length of what seemed to be rusted rebar that must have been laying around. Cole's fingers itched to reach back and pull his scythe from its sheath, to have a proper fight, but that wasn't the plan.

The plan was no injury. Jay would find the fuse box, he and Nya would get it running again and actually light up the area. Then by that time, everyone else would be in positions where they could hem in the criminals that were dotted around the building and incapacitate them until the police moved in. Simple enough.

Cole had found his targets, his pupils shrinking to adjust for the sudden change in light levels as he kept to the shadows and observed from a careful distance. The warehouse lights turning on was the cue to move in, and that hadn't happened yet. So he waited. Listened.

A minor huff of air came from one of the men, dressed in a loose fitting hoodie which did a good job of hiding any possible muscle underneath, though the way he wielded the rebar displayed experience and curated strength. Light swings, accompanied by a woosh sound as it sliced through the atmosphere.

"I can't believe we're here for no reason." He groaned in a whisper, his head tilted back and eyes closed. "One person. Maybe two, that's it. Send them in, get them to retrieve the goods. Done. Sorted." There was a pause, then in an almost whine, "But no, we all have to be here."

"Because apparently there is a lot more to get than what we'd initially thought. Either way, we're not doing anything." The woman gestured around the group, "We're just here for numbers."

"Numbers?" The word was forced out around laugh, though it definitely had an air of frustration. It was as if the man wanted to be anywhere else but in that warehouse at that very time. Cole could understand that, but for a different reason. He could have been in bed, sleeping, but instead he'd spent the past week stressing out over multiple possible scenarios that could occur should the plan have to change. Or trying to make sure what he had in place would work and be effective, that each member of the team would be doing the right job, in the right place, had the right skills.

Taking the lead was never easy, but it was rewarding.

Yet, this man rotating the metal bar slowly in his grip with a smile on his face, where else would he be if not there? Committing another crime elsewhere? Sleeping? Either way, the only place he would be going after this night would be the police station.

Cole found himself cracking a brief grin from where he was crouched behind a crate, his head poked just over the top to continue observing the group. The knowledge that these people were going to get what was coming for them, and they didn't even know, there was something vaguely satisfying about the situation.

All that there was between their freedom and their arrest was a well planned--

The lights flickered on. The warehouse awash so sharply with artificial white light that his widened pupils snapped so sharply down to a near pinpoint size that it made his vision bright with glare. His surroundings, moving from a pallet of greys and blacks to coloured, browns of the wooden storage boxes, reds and blues of the painted metal shelving units where everything was situated and sorted out. Now, he could see the sheer amount of dust that flowed over the floor, marked areas where people had been moving around presumably during the day, tyre tracks from heavy machinery that did the jobs that people couldn't do.

Then, just as quickly, the lights were off again. Cole's attention immediately snapped up towards the ceiling as the orange glow of the faded bulbs finally transcended into darkness.

What the hell? Jay, you were supposed to leave the lights on, what did you--

"Wait."

One of the men's voices came out as a whisper, his footfalls falling into silence as Cole blinked his eyes rapidly, forcing them to get used to the light levels again. There was always that brief period where his vision was impeded, as apparently everyone experienced; but when his eyes took in light in a different way, when they took in so much more? Sudden shifts from dark to light was never a good thing.

Though something in the tone of voice. Maybe it was the surprise? Or the shock? Or the fact that the word was said so carefully and warily that as soon as Cole had some semblance of vision he was peering over his small hiding spot and, like anyone would do, froze.

The man, the one armed with the rebar, was staring directly at him. Sure his gaze was wandering, a little unfocused but it was definitely in his general direction. Far too close to where Cole was crouched to be anything of a coincidence, enough to make his muscles tense and adrenaline spike as he, under the cover of darkness, met eyes with the man. He stopped breathing.

"What?" The other man asked, his tone questioning. "This place is old, lights are probably--"

"Shut up." He spat out quickly, "I saw someone."

Now, the woman spoke up, and Cole was just observing with climbing adrenaline flowing through his muscles. This wasn't good. "What? Who? Where?"

The next thing Cole knew, there was the bright beam of a light directly in his field of view, his eyes wincing and vision whiting over at the visual feedback the torch gave. There was a dragged breath, and a yelp from someone else, then the warehouse lights turned on.

Cole stood quickly from his hiding position, coming face to face with the group of three who were now fully aware of his presence, though none of them seemed to be reacting immediately other than staring in his direction with wide eyes, weapons held in a lax grip and torches still on, drooping towards the floor.

That was all in the space of a couple seconds, before darkness descended again. Now, the group decided to react to the change in circumstances. Torches whipping around widely, the sound of a baseball bat tapping hard against the floor as if one of the people were deciding to prime a swing into the oblivion of nothing that was now before them.

Even if they had planned to attack in the general area that he'd been standing in, Cole wasn't there anymore. As soon as he had the cover of yet another impromptu power cut, he'd quickly moved from where he'd been standing without much second thought. Staying where he'd been hiding, that would be a stupid move. His presence there had already been compromised, but he had other pressing issues to contend with.

Namely, the sheer chaos that was quick to follow.

A shrieked, "Holy shit, what the-!" Only for the shout to be cut off by a sheer flash of blue light, and the smell of ozone quickly taking over the entire warehouse floor in under a second. Cole looked up, the far side of the building illuminated by cracks and arcs of electricity weaving out into the open air, whips and sharp retorts of discharge echoed around the warehouse and in that moment, Cole realised that his plan was going out the window rapidly.

Jay, and presumably Nya, had partially succeeded in getting the lighting on only for it to die away into an intermittent and unpredictable flickering mess. All it took was a glance up, the lighting shuddering and fluttering between being on and off, rapidly so. They were most likely reacting to Jay's element, the power of it, the present voltage.

Then there was the situation of Cole's position in the building being compromised. He had to think, he needed to think. Only, that was easier said than done. The sounds of people delving into a fight bouncing off the walls from different sides of the warehouse. Clangs and scrapes of presumably makeshift weapons, shouting and grunts of pain and effort met Cole's ears in a layered cacophony of information.

No, no, he had to figure something out. He couldn't stay where he was, since that group of three people knew that there was at least someone close by; lurking in the shadows. Being on the receiving end of the rebar or even a bat was not high upon his list, but neither could he leave them unattended. There were sounds of battle, sure, but Jay and Nya could more than handle themselves. Cole could too.

Which possibly meant forgoing a plan, and just working on instinct. Assessing the situation, reacting to what was happening in the now and not what would need to be done later. He let out a short breath, and unclenched his hands from fists and let them hang loosely as he traversed around a small area of boxed products. Cole kept the three people in his line of vision at all times, the torch light shifting rapidly from surface to surface as they presumably searched for him.

"Did you see that?" a man screeched, his torch fixed on the crate that Cole had been behind.

"The guy?"

"No, the eyes! Did you see the eyes?" He exclaimed, yelped even.

He was shocked, confused. Scared even. Apparently, a length of rebar didn't provide a sense of security.

After a brief pause, the woman's voice added, "They glowed."

"They glowed!"

Tapetum Lucidum. The term Zane has used. Eyeshine, a result of Cole's night-vision. Not natural in humans, by any means. The group of three seemed to be plainly aware of the impossibility of the scenario they were faced with.

Words laced with shock, pacing and hard footfalls, they all echoed and distracted, but Cole even could come up with the most basic plan if the situation needed it. What the Earth Master knew was that he needed a little more time than he currently had. He needed to focus, needed silence, and three criminals having a minor freak out in front of him didn't help one bit.

He needed them all to just pause, which was easier said than done. With the overhead lights flickering intermittently and out of sync, the movement of torches, the three people realising they were in a situation where they couldn't even make sense of who they were facing? It wasn't a recipe for calm.

It caused heavy breathing, spikes in heart rate that Cole could barely hear around the sharp echoes of their footsteps as they turned around. The flickering bulbs provided some form of vision, cascading over the room in spasming and extremely brief washes of white and along with it, mere milliseconds where the ninja could properly take in the environment in a way that wasn't awash with black and grey tones.

He needed clear vision, he needed to be able to take a proper look at someone. On a normal day, outside in the sunlight, it was second nature for Cole's attention to go straight up to someone's face. It was a regular social cue, to make eye contact when talking or interacting but there was always that little bit more to it than being polite. For Cole, at least. It was how his powers functioned the best. Normal days provided time, he could watch the person walk, the way they held themselves; listen to how they spoke and the mannerisms they favoured, the light lilt to their voices. Did they favour their left or right hand? What were they wearing?

There always tended to be time, but in that moment? In the warehouse where he was keeping his steps as quiet as possible, a fight raging somewhere off to his left and absolutely no plan to fall back on other than dealing with the small group in front of him, to then go find and help his team? With limited significant visual input?

There wasn't time. There wasn't even time to think.

The lights kept flickering.

On and off.

On. The man with the rebar was wearing a grey-- no, a blue hoodie.

Off. He'd had brown hair? He'd seen it before, when the lights had been fully on.

A flash of lightning. Ripped jeans, black sneakers.

His face? Cole had seen it. It had been a couple of shocked seconds being caught in his hiding spot by the man's wandering gaze. It was there somewhere, in his memory. He always remembered faces. Blue eyes, pale skinned, shaven beard--

Screw it, there isn't time to be overthinking!

On.

The group of three fell quiet in an instant. Or at least, two of them did. The woman, and the man wielding a baseball bat. Their eyes were wide, comically so, but Cole wasn't laughing. He was just staring back at them.

They weren't moving. Only standing there with their weapons held by their sides, mouths hanging open just slightly. No one was saying a word. No one seemed to want to even risk drawing a breath.

They were both staring back at their rebar wielding friend, who had a much tighter grip on his strip of metal. Their gaze flicking from the left to the right in silent confusion and sudden shock.

Since it wasn't just their friend staring back with an alarmed expression. There were two of them, where the well built man in the blue hoodie stood, just a few mere paces back from the original, there was an exact carbon copy. Dishevelled light hair, blue eyes reflecting the light, expression carefully neutral.

Or was the one standing closest to the pair of criminals the fake?

The silence echoed nearly, and it was exactly what Cole had needed. A pause, a minute distraction. He was well aware that he could analyse more in a few brief seconds than anyone, and that single second of staring around the group and their joint expression of something that was bordering on fear, taking in their stances and their tensed muscles that indicated they were ready for either a fight or to run, Cole was ready.

Then, again, when the lights predictably flickered out for the umpteenth time, he moved.

First to the man he had shifted into; and to be honest it had been clear who the original was. The immediate reaction for gazing at a mirror image of one's self was surprise, and the man's face had been a picture of it. It wasn't as if he'd been trying to act like the man. There hadn't been time, or the need, the purpose was just to form a plan.

Now he had one, more or less. The details were vague, but coming together slowly and surely. He needed to reduce the group size, starting with the one who was the biggest threat.

The man with the rebar was taken down, with the cover of darkness providing a much needed advantage. Between a scythe still strapped to his back, and a meter and a bit of metal already primed for a swing? Cole hadn't liked his odds with a one on one fight.

Now, all he had to do was deal with the other two.

There were shouts of alarm from the two remaining thugs, trying to correlate an attack when they probably couldn't see their hand in front of their face without their torches to aid them. They must have been discarded somewhere.

Cole stepped over to the woman next, his gaze set. This time, he'd do a better job. The sensation of the familiar cold purple fog shuttered rapidly over his chest, down his limbs and clouding over his sight for a single brief instance. It tousled his hair, and brought a minor sense of disorientation that righted itself in an instant. The sensation of shifting always brought a wide smile to his face, even in the current tense circumstances. The cascade of change, the way it was so easy. There wasn't a way to explain it, it just happened. Like taking a breath, like lifting an arm.

The warehouse lit up. The hanging lights the brightest they'd been, the crackle of lightning ceasing and the sounds of the fights drawing to a close.

Then, one raised baseball bat later, and a calculated strike to the side of the woman's head with the butt of the carved wood and she crumpled down to the floor in an instant, eyes rolled back into her head.

There was a laugh, just to the left hand side. The last man was still standing with his own bat held tightly in his grip. It was easy to tell the source of his glee, even though seemingly two of his companions were laid out unmoving on the concrete floor.

It was the fact that the woman, chest heaving deeply, long blonde hair dishevelled, drooping forwards over her face and partially shielding her eyesight was still standing.

And in front of her, on the floor, with a pale pallor and a reddened welt already forming rapidly on the side of her head was the doppelganger. Taken down by a single lucky swing, and a successful one at that, since it had been executed when they'd been surrounded by darkness.

"Take that you-- uh, thing!" she jeered after a second, taking a small hopped step forwards, lifting one foot to tap at her own mirror image's shoulder. When there was no immediate response other than the prone body to rock slightly to the side, she stepped back with a wider grin.

Though, her tone was questioning when she squinted and cast her gaze over the body, "What even are you? You're… you looked human." She mused, turning back to face the only standing man with a small smile and a look of accomplishment.

Yet all that she was met with was a gaze now filled with distrust and wariness.

"I mean, you saw him right? That guy? Do you think it's him or something else?"

The only thing her question was met with, was pure silence and a furrowed brow. Even, a searching expression that switched rapidly between the prone form on the floor, and the visage of the same person still standing.

She took a step closer to her friend, bat draped lazily over one shoulder.

"Wait." the man said.

She stopped.

Then after a second, a frown marred her own features. "What?" she moved the bat again, energy dissipating out through fiddled movements and an inability to stand still. She rested it against the floor, propping her weight up onto it. "Are you really going to stand there," She gestured with one hand, "and ask me if I'm me?" It was a question one that held a tone of slight sarcastic shock, at the sheer absurdity of the situation that they'd both found themselves in. All it was, was moving some goods. They weren't even important to the overall task and it seemed as though everything had gone wrong anyway.

"No, well," The man forced out a breath, his gaze flicking between his friend who was standing just a little in front of him, his male compatriot behind him, and the fourth person on the floor. He cleared his throat heavily, "You saw that thing."

"Yeah, the guy following us. And you saw the lightning." She added after a moment, nodding loosely to the far side of the warehouse where the impromptu lightshow had come from. "That guy probably didn't come alone."

"You think?"

She rolled her eyes at that, "We should get going. If there's more than just that one guy here, we should leave. What if there's other people who can do that?" The question was poised with a second prompt glance to the man, as if scrutinising him. The expression was returned, but not maintained, since all too quickly their eyes fell to the unconscious male.

"What the hell even happened?" was mumbled, the man's tone disbelieving. "He turned into Mikey. Like, exactly into him. Or," He paused, "Was it even that guy? What the hell can do that?"

"Well, whatever. The guy-- thing. Whatever it is, he's going to be out for a while. Let's go head back to the others." She shrugged, one finger tapping absentmindedly on the side of her leg as she started to walk away from the scene.

Only, the other man didn't move from where he was standing, shuffled steps leaving grooves in the dust covered floor, his fingers wrapping just a little too tight around his bat. "What's my name?"

"What?"

"My name. You tell me it, and I'll know it's you."

There was a brief pause, and a huffed laugh. "Really? You're doing this right now? We've just been attacked by who knows what; from the sounds of it the fighting that was happening is over and I highly doubt we've won, otherwise we would have already left, right?" she raised an eyebrow, and when she didn't get a reply she scoffed. "Come on, man, we need to go. The cops are probably crawling around this place."

"I'll move when you tell me my name."

"How do I know that you're you? You could be asking for your name so you can sell the lie more." She said, her voice climbing an octave at the statement, but the man didn't seem to budge. He was just watching, staring.

He wasn't budging.

Eventually, the woman's expression fell just that little bit. It was barely anything, just a slight drop to the shoulders, a tilt of the head. She lifted her free hand and ran it through her hair, her expression changing minutely as she ran her fingers through the strands, as if the length of them was slightly surprising. Though the action looked so casual, so carefully normal.

The biggest change though, was her voice. It took on a slightly vexed tone, almost as if she was let down by the turn of events.

"Why does everyone always ask that question?" She questioned, "Is it James?"

"Elijah." came the clipped and quiet reply.

"Man, so close."

Between one second and the next, the resounding sound of air parting as the momentum of the moving bat picked up rapidly, and a satisfying thwack sound as the wood came into contact with the man's cheek, sending him crumpling to the ground. The only woman in that group was the one laid out on the floor amongst, now, her two equally unconscious friends.

Cole just looked over the group for a second, a tiny lick of blackened smoke finally tumbling off his hands and dissipating into nothingness, the rush of his power fading to a low adrenaline fuelled hum in the back of his head as if it was itching to be used again so soon. He took a minute, moving from person to person. First, checking that they could and were breathing, then using a pocket full of zip-ties to fasten their hands behind their backs when he was content in the knowledge that other than superficial injuries, the knocks to the head weren't anything significant. He stepped back.

His foot knocked against the baseball bat he'd discarded beforehand, rolling lazily over the floor.

"So much for no fighting." Cole mumbled as he cast his attention elsewhere in the warehouse. Overall, it was silent. No shouting, no nothing.

Which could either mean good things, or bad.

He carded a hand through his hair and pulled his scythe from his back, rolling the wooden handle in his hands before he set off walking through the brightly lit building.

"Always that question."

AO3

#Third Oni AU #ninjago #lego ninjago #lego #cole #cole ninjago #cole brookstone #Oni cole #oni #kai ninjago #jay ninjago #zane ninjago #nya ninjago #shape-shifting #mcfanely writes #mcfanely aus

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cowboisadness · 3 years

Text

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x F!OC} Chapter 18

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Swearing. Micah

.....

Chapter 18

Arthur didn’t return that night, nor was he there by the time morning arrived. I spent all day unable to focus on anything. Like everyone and everything around me was moving at a higher speed than I was. Leaving everything as a blur. Once I was done with everything and positive that Grimshaw wasn’t going to find something else for me to do, I made my way over to the horses.

Tossing the finished cigarette I was smoking to the side I strolled over to my girl, Orion. Giving her a few rubs on her chestnut and white nose and sharing my apple with her, biting into it a few times as she looked on waiting to get some herself. I usually take a couple of minutes every day to spend time with her, but the last few days I had been neglectful. Thankfully that O’Driscoll boy, Keiran, was doing a fine job of taking care of her and the others. You could always find him here a little away from the camp and the teasing comments.

“Do you have a spare brush I could borrow?” I asked him as he tended to Old Boy.

“I do, Miss.” He replied quietly. Going over to a bag propped up against one of the hitching posts and retrieving the brush. Handing it over with a timid smile before going back to what he was doing.

I brushed down Orion, giving her soft words of comfort. One of her hind legs resting as she relaxed from the attention. I couldn’t help but look out towards the path beyond just hoping for him to turn up, unharmed and with an explanation. Drowning out all noise from the camp behind me to focus on what could be heard within the canopy of the trees surrounding us. Nothing but the rustling of small creatures through the grass and birds in the trees. I offered to take watch. Relieving a thankful Javier of the duty.

The hours ticked on as I stood there, the next feeling longer than the last. With the rifle at my side, I kept myself hyper-aware of any noise or disturbance. The day eventually turned into night. But still no sign. Maybe being here alone with my thoughts wasn’t a grand idea. Various thoughts and scenarios at the forefront of my mind. He could have been captured and killed by the O’Driscolls on his way to meet up with Dutch and Micah. His body dumped where he would never be found. The law or Pinkertons could have apprehended him. In a cell ready to be hanged if he hadn’t already been executed to prevent any risk of him getting away. My hands shook with agonising worry. Taking slow deep breaths in an attempt to steady myself lest I lose it completely.

John approached at some point when it was completely dark, carrying a lamp with him. He offered to take over. Stating I had been out here for almost six hours.

“Abigail told me you are worried about Arthur,” he said, lighting up a cigarette as he leaned against the tree I was previously attached to.

Still unable to tear my eyes away from the path I took in a shaky breath before speaking “Seems like I’m the only one.”

“It’s not strange for him to be away for days. But even I can tell this is different.”

“Has Dutch given any implication that he’s going to look for him?” I eventually looked at him. The lamp he placed on the floor lighting up the side of his face, his healed scars more pronounced in the yellow glow.

He just shook his head. He handed me a cigarette from his pack as I made my way back to camp. Probably his attempt of comfort. I picked up a couple of beers as I passed the wagon, completely passing the surrounded fire and made a beeline to my tent. Ready for another restless night.

…..

The morning I was welcomed with the watered-down, piss-water excuse for coffee at the fire. Swallowing it down with a grimace and debating to switch it to beer or whiskey for breakfast.

Micah made his way over, pouring himself a cup. “Whoever made this coffee needs to be banned from doing so ever again,” I said, my tone as bitter as the liquid in the cup.

He just huffed and groaned as he sat beside me on the log. Keeping his distance but still much closer than I would like him to be.

Soon letting out an aggravated hum after the first taste.

“Ya know. It’s cute the way you worry about us men,” He leered at me, taking another sip.

He’s not wrong in thinking I would be worried if it was any of the others. Just not to this magnitude.

“Of course I’m worried.”

He moved closer closing the gap slightly, my body tensing in preparation to move away. I should have because once he placed his hand on my knee I froze as I looked down. Wondering what the fuck made him think he could put his hands on me.

“I’m willing to take out of camp for a few hours. Take your mind off it…” I could feel his eyes on me, his foul breath on my face. It took all my willpower not to shove him to the floor.

“...Make you forget for a while.” That’s it. I latched onto his hand to force him away. Now standing so he was out of reach. Anger and disgust plain as day on my face when I faced him.

“What makes you think I want that, Micah?”

“Just suggesting a bit of fun.”

“First of all…” I began pointing my finger in his direction “We must have a different meaning of fun. Secondly, never put your hands on me again.” My brows raised waiting for his retort.

“Well, I didn't take you for a prude.” He snarled

“No. I’d just rather lay with someone I like as a person.”

“Like baby-blues Morgan? All over each other like a rash. That's why you’ve been a sour bitch lately? Ya ain’t getting ya legs spread?” He stood then, drifting closer and oozing cockiness. That smirk still on his face.

“What if he doesn’t come back?

“Get fucked, Micah.” I didn't give him time to respond, turning on my heels and towards the lake to calm myself down before I throttle the bastard. Inhaling the warm air slowly to ease my irritation. Focusing on the sun's rays rippling on the surface of the water.

…..

I stayed by the river most of the day as it rolled into the evening. Taking the pile of clothing that needed repairing or altering with me. Taking short walks along the water when the pain in my back and hands got a bit too much. The sky changed from its brilliant blue into intense oranges and yellows, like the sky was ablaze for those couple of hours. The full moon now making its face detectible amongst the lingering clouds. A single Blue Jay with a coat in such a vivid deep blue and white that I had never seen before perched on a rock nearby. My silent companion.

It was then, still sitting on that log with a steaming coffee in hand and a pile of fixed garments at my side that I heard a commotion on the other side of camp.

Mary-Beth’s usual delicate voice now one of panic, shouting for help.

I rushed into camp, preparing to pick up my gun from my tent fully expecting the panic to be an ambush of some sort. That we had been found by O’Driscolls or the Pinkertons finally brought their men to kill everyone as promised. I wasn’t expecting to see the Tennessee Walker that has been missing for days. Mary-Beth and Karen stood over a body.

Running over I could feel the panic now setting in. Falling to my knees beside him. Relief washing over me knowing he was still alive. But he was in a serious way, the ragged wound on his shoulder emitting the stench of iron and gunpowder. Dutch made his way over then, the man in complete shock.

“I told you it was a set up, Dutch…” His voice was strained and hoarse. It was a miracle he was able to get back from the state he was in. His hand went to me, holding on with what little strength he had. But I held him anyway, my other hand propping up his head as he tried to sit up but completely unable without help. Dutch called out for Grimshaw and Swanson. Pearson now beside me, apologising profusely. Dutch continued to shout as Pearson and I lifted him, his full weight bearing down on us as we made our way to his cot, dropping him down as gently as possible with a groan from the three of us. Grimshaw came barreling through then, pushing me out of the way causing me to lose my grip on him. Swanson dropping a bag of medical supplies beside her. Both of them getting to work.

“Best if you stand outside, Miss Bella,” Swanson advised. The sounds and movements surrounding me seeping back to my senses.

I looked at Arthur again, a faraway look on his sweat covered face. Letting out pained gasps every so often.

“I’m not leaving,” I said matter-of-factly

“Do as he says. This ain’t gonna be pretty.” Grimshaw glanced at me then. Sharpness to her tone and her face contorted in determination.

Leaving the area I let the canvas fall in front of me but I didn't go far. Stood rooted to the spot only a few metres away. They must have been stitching him up, his agonising inhales and grunts being the only thing I could hear. I felt a hand tenderly placed on my shoulder, making me jump. It was Abigail and I didn’t realise I was crying until my eyes met her face. She squeezed my shoulder slightly but didn't speak.

It wasn’t long till Grimshaw and Swanson made their exit, blood covering their hands.

“He’s weak and slightly drunk, but he should pull through,” She said flatly, taking in my tear-stained cheeks. “Go in, he asked for you.”

I made my way in immediately. His union suit pulled down to his waist. His shoulder now wrapped in gauze and bandages. He must have been slipping in and out of consciousness or the alcohol was putting him to sleep. I sat on the chair beside his bed, a bucket of water at my feet with a clean rag in it. I took the rag and wrung it out, folding it up and placing it on his forehead to help cool him down. My free hand taking hold of his once again. He roused slightly from my touch. His eyes glazed and distant when he looked at me. The exhale was drawn out as he closed his eyes again, murmuring something incoherent, letting sleep overcome. But I couldn’t miss the squeezing of my hand, no matter how faint.

@kashasenpai @fallout-cowgirl

#hang em high #hang em high fic #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan x fem #arthur morgan x original female character #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemtion 2 #arthur morgan

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peace-coast-island · 3 years

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Alone together at the Summer Sweets Festival

Sweet treats, flying carpets, and colorful blooms - it's a magical day in Falcon Harbor when the Summer Sweets Festival comes to town. Everything's so soft and pastel, it's such a lovely sight to take in. Standing on the bridge, getting a full view of the festivities, I feel peaceful, like despite everything going on in the world right now, as long as I'm here, I'm safe.

Since we've been busy with camp stuff and running the shop, Daisy Jane and I felt that we needed some time to ourselves. Up until now, we haven't really had one on one time together, something we knew had to be fixed.

Hard to believe that Daisy Jane's been here for over a year now - how different things were back then. She went from stagnating in life to living her dream, being independent and creating art. And not too long ago I was in a similar position, trying to find my place in the world but having a hard time doing so. People objected - usually for good reason - but we took the plunge anyway, stumbling more than succeeding, but finding our way eventually. To some, it's still not ideal, but to us, we're happy, and that's more than enough for us.

Like I said, it's been nice just the two of us hanging out. I mean, we did meet up with friends but for the most part it's only us off on our own while occasionally meeting up. Not that I don't miss the campers but sometimes you just gotta go off and do your own thing. I've been so wrapped up in camp events lately that I haven't had time to do that and it was starting to affect me. As I'm still learning, it's important not to get too wrapped up in things - and there's nothing wrong with taking things slow, even slacking off if you can.

Since Pai brought along Connie and the gang, I've been thinking about that a lot. As much as I enjoy and look forward to camp events, they take a lot out of me. I get that they're kinda necessary to keep things running - and it's not like we're running out of ideas (I'm starting to think that's becoming one of my worst fears if I ever get to that point) - but it's important to know when to slow down. I've made the mistake of back to back events so now I know to space them out for everyone's sanity.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that burnout ain't good. Know the signs and take steps to prevent yourself from crashing and burning. Problem is that it can sneak up in unexpected ways, so it's extra important to catch the warning signs as soon as possible.

A festival may not seem like an ideal way to get some rest and relaxation, but this one's different. I think it's the peaceful atmosphere in general - things aren't too crazy or crowded, just people vibing in their own spaces. Kinda like a cafe's that's sorta busy but not too crowded or loud so you can just chill out and do your own thing without feeling like you're in the way. I always feel bad for taking up space, especially when I know that someone else needs it more than I do, which is why I tend to feel self conscious out in public. Doing stuff at a cafe sounds nice but actually doing it? I need to find the right place, the right atmosphere, the right spot that gives me privacy while not be closed off from everything else.

In other words, the Summer Sweets Festival's kinda like finding the perfect cafe to hang out in. The vibe's similar to the Traveling Fika, a relaxed atmosphere that doesn't compel you to have to try out everything all at once but instead encourages you to take your time and explore at your own pace. As much as I enjoy festivals - even more so as I've had a hand in behind the scenes for some - they can take a lot out of me. Again, there's nothing wrong with slowing down and taking your time.

While enjoying the festivities we ran into some friends. Turns out Emmaline and Minnie had the same idea of going to the festival for one on one time. I think this is the first time I've hung out with them since their wedding. As usual, they've been traveling around the universe, though they've been slowing down a bit and visiting home more often. It's still up in the air, but they're really considering the idea of buying a place in Rosevine. They'll still be traveling but that means they'll also have a home base to go back to.

The four of us enjoyed galaxy themed dango and fresh jasmine tea while catching up. I think since getting married, Emmaline and Minnie have fallen even more in love with each other. It's always so sweet seeing them side by side, holding hands and just being together. Like me and Daisy Jane, they also took a gamble by going off on their own - they were always more bolder than us in many ways despite being younger. In a way, they seem older, though it's more of a kinda had to grow up faster because of life circumstances.

Now that I think about it, no one really comes out unscathed from their upbringing. I'm lucky to not experience the traumas Emmaline and Minnie went through, though I can relate to being seemingly older than your peers. I'm not knocking my upbringing but the culture I grew up in - where my parents were also brought up - tends to put pressure on all of us. Maybe I'm biased because I'm the firstborn daughter in an Asian family but in a way I'm kinda expected to be maternal - not that I don't want to be, it's just the pressure of being that gets to me. It's the whole idea of you have to be the best, not just for you, but for your family - in other words, you have a lot to carry on your shoulders.

Then there's the whole debate of whether I should do something because it's for me or should consider my family over myself. Eh, that's something for another time I don't feel like getting into all that today. Will I have to address it someday? Probably but I don't have the brain power to even touch on that.

After getting lost in the stars, the four of us hopped on a flying carpet for a scenic view of the harbor. They say that Falcon Harbor's known for its magical carpets, from their beautiful and intricate designs to the magic these threads possess, it's amazing to see how much work is put into making a single one. The view is absolutely gorgeous - it adds to the dreamy vibe of the festival.

Not too long after parting ways, we ran into Blossom. It was an unexpected surprise as she came here on sort of a whim. For the past year or so she's been hanging out with a time traveling professor and exploring various parts of the universe with him. She posts a lot of about her travels on social media and it sounds like she's having a blast.

Though as much as she enjoys going on adventures with the professor, Blossom finds him a hassle to get along with sometimes. She describes him as the kind of guy who's used to pretty much getting away with everything and doesn't really know how to take responsibility, so inevitably that ends up getting him into a lot of trouble. Jamie's heard stories about him and while he has good intentions, most tend to have a like-hate thing with him. I get where Blossom's coming from with the lack of foresight and accountability - like it's understandable if you're from an upbringing that neglects that but at the same time you're a grown adult so act like one.

Aside from that the professor guy sounds cool but to be honest I'm not sure if I can stand to be his traveling companion. Blossom finds him to be good company most of the time and he brings some excitement to her normally monotonous life. Now with her little sister moving across the country, Blossom finally has more freedom to do what she wants. The main reason why she accepted the professor's offer to join in on his adventures was to get away from her, which is understandable. Her sister's a lot like mine in which I love her, but she can be a bit much to deal with - and not ideal to live with 24/7. With her sister gone, Blossom doesn't have to deal with nosy siblings who, while well intentioned, make her feel bad for doing her own thing. And yes, I speak from experience.

Originally, Blossom and the professor were gonna go on a space adventure but that was scrapped at the last minute. Basically, the professor owed an old friend big time for something he sorta screwed up on the last time he visited, so now, after avoiding it for years, he has to finally pay up. It's not as bad as it sounds as he knew that he would have to own up sooner or later, plus Blossom knows them to be good friends.

As much as she wants to see the cosmos, she's been busy helping her sister with the moving out process so she'd rather have a lowkey weekend. Since she lives about 20 mins away from town, Blossom figured that maybe she'd pop in to join in on the festivities for a bit. So we enjoyed candied strawberries, tiger milk tea, and a boat ride around the harbor before going off our separate ways again.

At night, we met up again with Emmaline and Minnie to set up a picnic and watch the fireworks show. Seeing all those bright, vibrant colors against the dark night sky, it's a pretty sight to look at. We also chose a good spot to view it as there's not too many people around and the sound doesn't break our ears. After that, we hung around a bit longer, exploring stands we haven't gotten around to visiting yet. The quiet atmosphere along with the gentle glow of the lanterns - I almost didn't want to leave because it felt so comforting, especially when it's just us alone.

Did I just say "us" alone? Maybe it's just because we've known each other for so long and have a lot in common, but as much as I like having alone time, I'm starting to see myself more open to sharing that time with Daisy Jane. Not exactly interacting, but existing in the same space, doing our own thing. I still need my solo alone time, but I also wouldn't mind being alone together with Daisy Jane, like how we were at the festival.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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morston-trash · 4 years

Text

The Last Sunrise

I honestly can’t remember if I have ever posted this on here. This is the work that I am the proudest of. It also tore me apart to write it.

Spoiler warning to anyone that hasn’t finished the game; it contains end of game spoilers.

Proceed with caution.

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

The gunshots faded into the distance but didn't cease altogether. The hunt was still on, just for someone else that had decided to leave while they had the chance. Whether they would actually escape or not, that was another matter. The men that were in the, once glorious Van Der Linde gang, were very persistent. The remaining men were more than likely in pursuit on horseback.

John could almost hear the whoops and hollers of the men as he fled. His heart slammed against his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. All he could do was keep running, even though his legs threatened to give out. He finally collapsed, falling against a nearby tree. There he lay, working frantically to catch his breath.

"Go to your family," Arthur struggled before starting the climb upwards.

"Arthur!" John hissed.

"Go on, get out of here and be a god damn man," Arthur wheezed.

"Y-you're my brother..." John hesitated, reluctant to leave the man.

"I know..." the older man said before climbing up.

That interaction was burned into his skull, playing over and over again in his mind. He couldn't believe that he had left him. He hated himself more than he could ever express. Arthur had always been there for him. He had always been there to help him, to bail him out of the mess he always got himself into. He had just left him there to die. Hot tears threatened to fall, but he refused to let them fall.

"Be a god damned man..." John choked back sobs.

He stood, his legs threatening to give out once again. Without thinking, he ran back in the direction in which he had left his savior. He ran as hard as he could. Just hoping and praying, for the first time in his life, that he would make it there in time. He could barely breathe but he was willing to endure it. John was determined. He was going to get back to Arthur, one way or another.

The dark-haired man approached where he had left Arthur. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Arthur. Was he still alive? He climbed up the ledge, dread rising inside of him. He didn't know if he could do this. John pushed on, he was going to do this. His eyes scanned the area, searching for the man.

"A-Arthur?" He somehow managed to call out, sounding like a scared child.

He heard an angry groan in response, it had to be him. Only Arthur could make a simple sound seem so grouchy. He followed the noise to the source. The sight that greeted him shattered what was left of his stone heart. There sat Arthur leaning against the stone wall behind him, bloody and bruised from the fight that must have occurred after he left. The older man shot him a look of pure disbelief and annoyance.

"I... I told you to get out of here... Go to your family..." The dying man muttered, barely able to take a breath.

"I can't leave you, Arthur. You're my family too..." John cried, unable to keep the tears from falling.

"Y-you're... A mess... Marston," Arthur coughed.

"Don't I know it?" John laughed in an attempt to control his tears.

Arthur struggled to sit up just a little more. These were his last moments and the pair both knew it. John wished that he could stop time, that he could save his oldest friend. But he couldn't. Instead, he just sat there beside the other man, enjoying the silence. Before this moment, he had never understood what Arthur enjoyed about it so much, but now he completely understood. He understood everything now. It was as if the other man had opened himself up without saying a word. There they sat, Artur's final moments being spent in silence as they watched the sunrise together this one last time. John was painfully aware that he could no longer hear the struggling wheezes coming from Arthur trying to catch a breath. He had passed. John couldn't bring himself to look at the shell of one he had cared for so deeply. Instead, he sat there beside him. Watching the sun climb into the morning sky.

John thought of all the times they shared, just like how Arthur wanted to spend his last moments. It hurt like hell, but it brought the man some comfort. When Arthur saved him from the wolves, drinking around the campfire, all of the many times they had ridden together, their ride to get Jack back. That reminded him of something Arthur had once said.

"We can't change what's done, we can only move on," The now dead man's voice echoed in his ears as if he was talking.

He couldn't help but smile despite the tears that ran down his scarred face. That man had truly been the most selfless person he had ever known. Beyond that rough, sarcastic, intimidating exterior he was really just another hurt soul that loved helping people. Even if it took him until the end of his life to realize it. John forced himself to get up to face reality. Arthur was gone, all that left of him was his corpse and the memories that everyone had of him. His eyes dropped to the shell of the man, his chest feeling like a bear had torn into it. His dull eyes were still open, looking at the rising sun. He brought his hands to the face of his trusted friend, closing his eyes. John dropped to his knees, unable to hold up the facade of being strong. The tears flowed freely, unable to be contained or controlled any longer. His head dropped. He stayed there, unable to move. Without any prompting from him, a pained scream came forth from his throat. He didn't care if the gang heard him, if the Pinkertons heard him, he just didn't care in that moment. He couldn't bring himself to care.

The man heard the sound of pebbles being kicked behind him, someone was coming upon him. He stumbled into a standing position before drawing his gun and turning to face the source. His vision blurry, he could barely make out the image of Charles, the man Arthur trusted most out of the gang. That was still alive anyway. He sniffled and lowered his gun, trying to compose himself. It was fitting, he was feeling and acting just like the child he was when he met the man that now sat dead beside him. Both of the men nodded in agreement, no words needed to be exchanged. They already knew what needed to be done. Charles lifted the body of his trusted friend. John followed as the dark-skinned man carried him away from the place that he took his last breath. The pair walked in silence, both feeling more comfortable that way. They had never really talked much, the only things they had in common being small bits and pieces of the past few months and Arthur. They were both sad about the other man's death, but John was taking it the hardest of the two. Charles had a more private way of mourning, as well as a more considerate way of showing appreciation for the lives of those around him.

Charles led the way, placing Arthur on the back of Taima. He grabbed the reins and started to lead the horse. John followed, reluctant to stray away from the body. They walked away, the rays of the sun chasing away the cold of the hilly region. The walk was quiet, tranquil. This morning was the calm after the storm, and yet they couldn't wait for it to be over. They arrived a short distance from where the heroic man had spent his final moments. They were on a cliff, basking in the sunlight. It was a beautiful spot.

"This spot, it's beautiful..." John mumbled.

"Arthur would have wanted to be buried somewhere like this. Facing west. So that he could look at the sun and remember everything," Charles barely more than whispered.

The pale man had hardly heard the other, but he knew what had been sad. He was right, their fallen friend would have loved a spot like this. It was a beautiful spot, surrounded by a stunning view of the landscape. Had Arthur been alive, he likely would have been taking in the jaw-dropping sight with his journal in his hands. Tears threatened to fall, but he fought the now-familiar sensation. John didn't think that he could cry anymore but he didn't want to risk it. Charles pulled out his small, collapsable shovel from his saddlebag. The darker man removed his friend from the back of his horse before placing the body in the shade of a nearby tree. John couldn't help but watch, noticing the expression of pain that crossed his face. It was unusual, he had never seen him show this much emotion. Arthur had touched all of their hearts, he had saved them. There was no greater man, in their eyes anyway. He may have been a criminal, a murderer, a thief, but he had done it all to help the entire gang. But the bastards had turned on him, on all of those that saw how crazy Dutch really was.

"You should get out of here, get back to your family. I'll take care of him," the other man motioned to the body of their lost friend.

The grieving man could only nod numbly. He didn't want to leave, but Arthur trusted Charles in life and he was sure that this would have been what the man wanted. John turned away and began to walk away reluctantly. He walked back the way they had come, each step taking him a little further from the man who had saved his life countless times. The raven-haired man just wanted to throw himself on the ground, to scream out curse after curse, but it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't bring Arthur back. Instead, he kept forcing himself to take step after step. Towards where Sadie had taken his family to safety. Another person that Arthur had trusted a lot, despite her having only been with them for a few months. But Arthur's judgment was not misplaced. The two had been more alike than anyone other than themselves could notice. John could see that now. It's funny, you only really start to notice and pay attention to things when they are no longer there. John cracked a sad smile at the thought. He felt so stupid, but at the same time, he felt partly to blame for Arthur's death. If he hadn't left him, maybe he would have still been alive. He could have fought off the one that killed him. They could have gotten him out of there. They could have tried to help him get better. The invasive thoughts swirled through his mind like a tornado.

"We can't change what's done, we can only move on,"

The man looked around for the source of the voice. It was like a whisper in the wind. Even beyond the grave, the man was looking out for him. Those words brought some comfort to the man, but not enough to prevent even more tears from falling. He struggled to not fall down onto his knees.

"D-damn you, Morgan. You selfless bastard..." the man sniffled.

He moved onwards despite the pull he felt to return to the corpse of the man he called brother. Each step made it harder to fight the urge. The urge to be there with Arthur. The sound of voices brought him out of his thoughts.

"We can't leave yet! They are still coming!" a woman yelled shrilly.

"We don't know that, they might have caught them." another woman reasoned.

"Momma, where's papa?" A young child asked.

"He's coming sweetie, he'll be here," the first woman soothed.

John recognized those voices, they were the voices of his family and Ms. Sadie Adler. He followed the voices out of the bushes. Sadie had her gun drawn, pointing at John. Once she recognized him, she lowered her weapon. Abigail ran towards him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He hugged her back, realizing just how much he had missed her. Jack came running over and clung to him tightly.

"Papa! Papa!" the boy yelled joyously.

"I'm here, I'm here..." He reached a hand down to grasp the boy as well as his lover.

"Where's Arthur?" Sadie asked, knowing the answer but needing confirmation.

Arthur had told her about the tuberculosis. She knew that he was going to die. Seeing John walk over wearing his hat confirmed it. But she needed to hear it.

"He, uh... He didn't make it. Charles is burying him on a ridge not too far from where he..." John swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence.

Sadie nodded, a dull pain searing through her interior. Arthur had been one of the best men she had ever met, seconded only by her late husband. She was going to miss him dearly. She turned her attention to the reunited family. She had fulfilled her promise to the man, she had helped them get out. They could go on living their life free from all of the madness that had just ensued. Sadie, on the other hand, didn't quite know what to do. She was more of a ghost than a person.

The Marston family loaded onto the wagon that was waiting for them, to take them to their new future. One hopefully free of bounties, robbing, murder, and Pinkertons. John was in the driver's seat with Jack between him and the woman. John turned to look at her as if asking if she was to be joining them. She just shook her head, waving them off. The man nodded, before signaling for the horses to start moving. There the family went, onwards towards their new life, their second chance. All thanks to a man named Arthur Morgan.

#Arthur Morgan #Arthurmorgan #John Marston #Johnmarston #Charles Smith #Charlessmith #Sadie Adler #Sadieadler #Abigail Marston #Abigailmartson #Jack Marston #Jackmarston #john x arthur #arthur morgan x john marston #Morston #morston-trash

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