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moondirti · 11 months

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7. PROPOSITION

CHAPTER SEVEN OF ANIMALIC | MIGUEL O'HARA X F!READER

↼ chapter six / chapter eight ⇀

summary: a proposition is made in hope for new beginnings

mature | 4.7k words warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, apocalypses, death, decay, blood, injury, sexual tension, angst, no use of y/n notes: I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL. anyway repost lol

During the liminal period between detonation and your understanding of it, you’d been convinced of your own fatality. Dead girl walking; the shell-shocked mantra playing in an unremitting loop as you navigated the flattened planes of your once-home.

New York was a ghost town. Or – town isn’t exactly the proper verbiage, not when it comes to describing the hollowed locale. It’d been flushed of all its previous pomp; skeletal buildings with their windows blown to bits, light posts bent at the root, central park a glorified bonfire pit for skyscraping flames. In truth, when you’d awoken, you couldn’t recognise your whereabouts.

That was the basis for which you told yourself it was a dream. Everything existed as a distorted reflection of what you were familiar with, a fucked plane capable only of occuring in feverish delirium. The bite, you’d accepted – nodding to yourself grimly. You must’ve gotten sick again and passed out before the speech, transported to some stuffy hospital that pinned you with needles full of hallucinogens. How else could you have explained your occult ability to phase through walls, or the complete absence of people?

(In hindsight, it was denial more than anything.)

Yet time progressed on a tortoise’s shell, marching with all the leisure of reality. It didn’t jump like it would’ve had your consciousness been in charge, with its aversion to the mundane and grotesque. No; you’d started to see the faults in your logic when the substance that perpetually fell from the sky proved to be human ash, or when – the further down you travelled – maturating flesh increasingly marked your path. You’ve never known your mind to be so cruel.

So, dead.

If so, then you’d settled on purgatory. A state where souls atone for their unforgiven sins and are purified. It was an interim solution; you weren’t the religious type, anyway. But maybe that'd been it. Maybe you’d been given a last hope at redemption, thrust in a distinctive nightmare to comprehend how much worse hell could be. At least you lacked pain, at least you were dressed – clad in the silk of your gala gown. But the sky had been red, covered in a sheet of dismal smoke, and you couldn’t see the stars at night.

It was a sign; you’d failed at reaching them.

The notion had paralysed you for days, tearing at the false comfort you’d wrapped yourself in up to that point. You’d weeped, and tested the limits to your intangibility with lacking enthusiasm. Blotchy faced, snotty nosed – passing your arm through rubble, succeeding, then trying the same with your feet, which abraded against the rough surface instead. The inconsistency was hard to keep up with, but the task at least distracted you from a profuse existentialism.

You’d heeded no patterns; some days, you were completely nonphysical. Or, parts of you remained that way, while others shifted back to palpability. It’d been a tug of war, dependent entirely on your mood and a greater scheme you had no part of. With your limited comprehension, it’d only guaranteed the purgatory hypothesis. Not mortal, nor spirit. Stuck in a great between.

(What heaven was worth this? Who deemed it so?)

The guessing game got old. You’d needed something else – more than water, or a fresh change of clothes; good, honest science. Truth. You couldn’t move on until you’d had reason to believe the outcome could justify this.

You turned to the cosmos then, impartial as ever, despite their discernible absence. They were still there, you knew. Just beyond the firestorms, the sun burnt bright enough to penetrate smog. Its hazy glow provided an alternate reminder of something for you to still pursue – wherever it was, wherever you were. You couldn’t be sure that an afterlife meant nirvana or elysian fields, yet fulfilment looked to be the common denominator. An underscore.

To you, that would only ever be one thing.

Deep space, your stars – your Sol.

(It was hope in the one way you could define it.)

The threads started to converge in an instant of poetic cognizance. The Phoenicians had done it, and so too had ancient sailors. Stars for navigation, for reasoning. Of course. All that entailed for you was to certify you were worth it.

You’d started by cleaning. Little things, far from where you’d originated. A neighbourhood of collapsing houses, nested in beds of fine porcelain and dust. The times where you could use your hands, you’d sweep the debris onto them and deposit it in a hole, harrowed from a singed lawn at the end of the row. When you were immaterial – a state that had begun gaining rarity the better you were able to cope – you’d focus on mentally tallying inventory. Some to set aside, for whatever poor individual would visit next, and the rest for you. A diet of canned beans and bottled water was better than nothing.

Then, you’d dealt with the bodies.

There were none within the city, nor the suburbs. It was only when you’d ventured outwards did they start to crop up; thin corpses with leathery skin still stretched over their frames, starved or burnt or both. The smell had been putrid, reeking of pure rot, and you’d surmised that perhaps they’d taken too long to find salvation. It’d motivated you to keep working, burying them in marked graves with a plug fastened over your nose. You didn’t want to end up like them, as a chore for the next.

It was near impossible to keep a timeline of it all. Now, you estimate it as months, though it had felt longer. You’d gone through it with no milestones, or any inclination as to whether you were finally getting close. Cleaning the entire expanse of purgatory seemed too big a task to ask of anyone, immortal or not. Yet as the weeks crawled by, you’d started to reckon that was exactly it. You’d felt nothing special, no sweeping message from God alerting you of your success. Just more devastation, more labour.

(Were you wrong?)

You’d started to get sick again. Irritated sinuses, a scratchy throat. Every breath you took was more useless than the last, oxygen unable to circumvent your system. Smoke inhalation, likely. You’d searched for ventilators to help treat the symptoms, alongside pain relief for the sores spotting along your palms. There’d been nothing, and that wasn’t to say it had always been that way. Empty, orange bottles decorated every barren street, purged by apocalyptic gluttons.

(You couldn’t trick yourself – the dead had no use for medicine.)

Some fate must have willed it, though. It was there, in the seventh hospital you’d scavenged, that it’d happened.

A… being, no taller than five foot four, decked in a bright yellow suit and a hazmat mask. Loitering the entryway with a trash bag full of salvaged goodies. It hadn’t noticed you, preoccupied with routing the way back home – so you rushed into a nearby room to change into your gown. It was wrinkled and torn in places, having been the outfit you’d initially spent weeks in, but it was far better off than the grimy cargoes you’d adopted in its place.

You’d kept it for this; your day of judgement.

It – he, as it turns out – lived in a bunker, deep beneath the catastrophic surface of the state. You’d followed him there. A perfectly normal thing to do, candidly, for someone who’d forgone social interaction since death. It couldn’t dawn on you that he was surely in the same boat; isolated, cornered like an animal on its haunches. If it had, you would've made an effort to approach him with caution.

So, it certainly shouldn’t have come as a surprise when your ecstatic hello was met with an axe to the face. Naturally, it’d phased right through you, a feat which only furthered the old being’s terror.

God had turned out to be more skittish than you’d expected.

(“Blimey, whit the hell are ye supposit tae be.”

“I’ve been waiting so long–”

“Ye're gonnae get yourself killed wearin tha’ flimsy thing, lass.”

You’d felt so stupid. You should have surmised that the occasion called for modesty.

“Forgive me,”

“Whit is it ye want? I don’ have any food for sharin’.”

“Redemption, if you please. I promise I’ve been good, I just want to see the stars.” But of course he’d know that. “Sir. Lord, sir.”

“Is somethin wrong wi yer head?” He’d huffed. “It's tha’ radiation, I'm tellin’ ye. Or maybe I'm dead an’ seein’ things.”

Dead? Another lost soul?

“Are you not God?”

“God? Ha!” The human scoffed. “Trust that I wouldn’ be livin’ in this rat’s ass if I was.”)

It turned out that he did have food, and plenty – stuffed cans stacked in rows atop rows of nourishment. Medicine too, an age old ventilator that he’d tapped with a knuckle to spur into function. He’d agreed to let you replenish if you’d take a gander at his malfunctioning radio, of which you had limited knowledge on but were willing to give a try. You’d no idea what he needed a radio for in the afterlife, anyway.

(“The battery contacts are corroded, I think.” You had spit through a mouthful of corn. It’d tasted like pure sugar to your neglected tongue. “If it matters to you this much: baking soda to neutralise the acid, then a bit of vinegar over it to help wipe off the gunk.”

“Smart one ye are,” He’d pulled a cigarette from one of his various pockets, lip curling at your inquisitive gaze. “Don’ give me tha’ look, I ain' got none for ye.”

“I’m okay, thanks.” After a bit of deliberation, you’d added, “I’m afraid I don’t understand something.”

“Whit is it this time?”

��Why’d you set up permanent camp here? Don’t you want to leave?”

“An’ where wad I go?” His lighter had taken several starts to sputter a flame.

“Heaven. Hell – if that’s your thing. The cosmos?”

He’d barked another one of those sturdy laughs. “Ye one o’ them fanatics? That say wha’ happened wis for good cause?”

“Huh?” Tentatively, you’d placed the radio back on its rickety stool. “What happened?”

And all humour had drained from his face, his pupils hardening to flat beads. If it hadn’t been for the sudden shift in mood, you’d have gone forever traipsing on a fantasy. No; it was the tremor, the breaks in his once haughty inflection – idiosyncrasies that could’ve only been described as sympathy-triggered. It’d built upon your doubt, your already wavering faith, to strike you out of your mental regression.

“The Alchemax bomb, lassie.”)

He had a bucket for you to throw up in, slick with panicked sweat, unable to hold on to anything as your body oscillated between materialities. He’d made no comment on how your hands fell through the floor, or the knees that started to sink alongside them. Your fault, your fault. Any thought besides blame hadn’t time to develop, recycled for fuel to keep the cognition running. Your fault. Your fault. All this time.

(Who could you have turned to? You’d been praying to deities who’ve long since left.)

Night bled, and the man had retired. You’d stayed plastered to the ground, crouched over a slosh of your purged innards. The foulness hardly moved you; it’d felt good to punish yourself in that way. You’d taken to being your own arbiter, and such was one of the many reparations to come.

(You’d shunned the voice that insisted you deserve none of it. If you hadn’t been so ambitious, so blind to the flaws–)

You’d wanted to leave. So desperately that the wish had seized every cell in you, shaking them with a vigour unparallel to even celestial fury. You’d wanted to leave. There’d been nothing for you to divert your efforts to after learning the truth. Nothing you could have done to fix it. You’d wanted to leave. To anywhere but there.

Please. Please. Please.

Just this one thing.

The air warped.

You hadn’t noticed it immediately, still wrapped in your own misery. Scratchy skin accredited to grief, you kept rocking in place, bathing in muggy sobs. But it’d only grown worse, like a fraying fabric chafing along every appendage. Your dirty nails dug into your palms.

The friction peaked, rubbing you raw. You’d heaved in large gulps of oxygen, pulling at your flesh like it could’ve stopped it. Your jaw had unhinged, teeth clamping down on your thumb to muffle the overstimulated scream that’d threatened to break. Tears sealed your lash lines shut.

Almost a second later, it stopped, interrupted by the blare of car horns.

And, when you’d opened your eyes, you found that you were someplace else entirely.

Your fingers graze along something rough. At first, it’s easy to mistake as your jeans, the denim hardened in places with lack of care.

The space seems to have shrunk since Miguel fell asleep, slumping inwards, its rock walls poking your elbows and curved spine with a clinical brutality. It’s difficult to imagine how he feels; twice your size, unused to fitting those muscles through tight squeezes. Disastrous still, the low creak of the steel arch above puts a timer on your misfortune. The topic of your demise is of increasing relevance.

Perhaps he drifted off for that exact reason. To hinge on ignorance; an avoidance of this waiting game. Or, more credibly, to force you into a figurative detention. Think about what you’ve done, and what I’m asking of you.

In any case, it’s working. The trauma you’ve tried repressing thus far rushes through your conscience, carving gaping canals of remorse, lapping at its banks to keep it fresh. You’re convinced your heart could give out, wrenched in innumerable directions, the only respite afforded being the glitches that rip through you. You deserve to stay here, but he doesn’t. He’s always only sought what was right.

(You can fix it, do this one thing.

Though you can’t grasp where to begin.)

You pinch the fabric, tugging at it in a nervous tick. You don’t feel the tension across your calf, an observation that grows stranger the harder you pull. Reaching over with your free hand, you smooth over your pants. They’re still level with your shin bone, unmoved.

Huh.

There’s a mortifying moment where you fear that it’s Miguel’s suit you’re fiddling with, before taking into account that it’s impossible to twist the nanotechnology.

And it’s too close in to be a wall.

You delicately trace the surface with your pinky, searching for any discernible edge, intent on mapping out the overall shape to deduce its origins. Your arms wave about in a frantic fashion, but to your bewilderment, you find no real boundary. Weirder yet, it appears to slice through your shoe and a portion of Miguel's thigh.

Feels like–

Your stomach lurches, broiling in a bold concoction of thrill and trepidation. It throws you off guard, your brain lagging behind the reality your body already accepts. You know what it could be, having undergone the phenomena in several situations similar. An answered prayer during your lowest points – back at the man’s bunker, a few times since then.

Nerves humming with electric fervency, you tamp your hope into something more manageable, unable to handle another blow should this turn out poorly. Or – comparably – should you succeed; if this is, indeed, a portal. Your resolve trembles with the strength of a baby bird's wing, missing the survival instincts that once bolstered it.

(What would it mean for you?)

Biting your lip, you plunge your fist through to the other side.

It comes in contact with something cold, unlike anything in your little cave. Cold, glossy and… crinkly. A plastic bag of sorts, packed full of a pulpy filling. You’re tempted to draw away, disgusted, but redirect that intensity into inspecting instead.

The bag rests upon an uneven floor, marred by pebbles that lend a sense of ruggedness to the place. Outdoors. Downright filthy, too; judging by the clammy residue that sticks to your knuckles. Bile nudges up your oesophagus, inspired by the unidentified refuse you’re granted access to. Squalid; a dumpster, probably. Decorated in bursting trash bags.

But then–

Mooring yourself upon Miguel’s abdomen, you dip your forearm further in. The static off the portal’s perimeter sings with discordant vibrations, its intensity bordering on painful. It prickles the fine hairs along your limb, scouring any goosebumps raised with a grating ferocity. You stifle the whimper that arises as a consequence.

Your fingers dip under the trash, grazing something that makes you pause. Rubber. Ring-like.

The day pass?

Swallowing, you jerk it towards you. It doesn’t budge, stuck under the refuse.

(It occurs to you to give up. The moral dilemma its purpose poses is abundantly clear.)

Hooking all four digits around its circumference, you pull harder. The portal eats at you, hostile to the foreign intrusion. Any longer and you’re afraid it’ll cut your arm clean off, right under where that gutter almost did the same. Your adrenaline had been enough to numb the torturous incident then, both physically and in memory – and though you lack that direct threat to your life now, the setup is much the same. A situation where you’re finally in control, a reclamation to the morality you’ve long since lost. It’s personal – the scolding he’d given you like a knife to old wounds.

The prospect fuels the surge you need, distending through your biceps, reinforcing their efforts as you finally yank the bracelet out. The portal makes no noise when it zips back shut, but you feel the lull, its energy abandoning you to wallow, alone again. Or, not alone; you gently settle between Miguel’s legs, careful not to disturb him.

There’s a stark silence that passes afterward, a line of astonishment keeping it intact. You allow it, needing time to process the staunch implications of the day pass sagging upon your lap. Its lilac hue gives a faint light to your surroundings, illuminating the cranny you’ve only been able to picture so far. It’s about what you expected – save for the resting face of your companion.

He looks good. Which isn’t to say he doesn’t usually, but the peace that graces his features compliments him, rounding out any harsher edges. You trail your gaze up his neck, to the jaw that points to a pronounced chin. Lips that pout even over retracted fangs. An aquiline, masculine nose. It fits him, you think. Lends itself to the fluffy hair that frames his sharp cheekbones. You linger on it probably longer than you should.

That is, until you catch sight of the blooming discolouration marring his temple.

It’s partially obscured in shadow, yellowing along the ends and purple in places you don’t have the advantage of properly observing. Yet, the bruise communicates all it needs to, loud and explicit. You’re not in a position to procrastinate any longer; you’ve already spent a year running from fate. It might make you sick, your organs tying together in a nauseating knot – and every impulse in you might scream against it. To run away; to leave him here for dead. Live the rest of your life in peace – it’s only right, it’s only right.

Then, you remember what he’d said to you.

(“Explain this to me, O’Hara – what just providence made me spider-woman to a barren land?”

“It’s not fair.” He didn’t skip a beat, tone laced with a hard understanding. “But it’s fact.”)

You really hate him sometimes.

Bracing yourself, you shake his shoulder. He’s up in an instant, snatching your wrist in one warm palm. You wait for the tired mist over his awareness to melt, a stone lodged in your throat.

“¿Qué es?” He whisper-shouts. “What?”

“I–” Your voice warbles. Pathetic. “I have something for you.”

He squints.

(Rightfully so.)

Breathing through the hesitation that strikes the rungs of your ribcage, you hold up the day pass.

He doesn’t realise what you mean immediately, flicking back and forth between the bracelet and your furrowed brows. Realistically, his doubt can’t have lasted longer than a few seconds, yet you’re eternally paralysed within the anticipatory dread – a fossilised mosquito captured in amber. Even when he does eventually catch up, you stay still, letting him pilfer the key to your freedom and watching as his drowsiness sharpens into a pointed resolve.

And you don’t stray, not for the entire stretch during which he tinkers with its components. It’s not his aforementioned allure that encourages it, nor the sudden flashbacks to your earlier breakdown. Ridiculously enough, it’s satisfaction – a contentment at having finally defied your self-interests. You look to him like you had the sun back home. For validation on the path you’re headed towards, a small hint of a job well done. You’re too cautious of your own pride, betrayed by it more often than anyone else, but he–

He knows what it means to be a true spider-hero.

You hope that one day, you will too.

“Lyla?” Miguel demands into his watch, testing to see whether the spare parts of your contribution resolved its issues.

“You’re alive! Huh,” A miniscule projection of his LYrate lifeform approximation blinks into existence, tilting her heart-shaped glasses down as if to punctuate her disbelief.

“I came across a few obstacles, but I’ve got the Wr-” He catches your wince. “Our target. Set coordinates for 928. I’m coming home.”

“Gotcha. Can you wait until Reilly coughs up a twenty, though?”

“You bet on my survival?”

“Silver linings!”

“Lyra.”

“Okay! Alright. Home it is, boss.”

“And tell Jess to be on stand-by with an empty cell,” He adds, lowering his pitch to one more understated. You can’t lie and imply your appreciation – no matter what he does to soften your circumstance, it retains its somberness. You’re going back to that desolate wasteland, and this time, you have no will in ever leaving.

“Figured you’d want to get her in the go-home machine as soon as possible. No?”

“No.” He asserts, the decision rumbling from deep within his chest. You steel yourself against the shiver that wobbles through you. “I’m not done with her, yet.”

“Explain something to me, would you?”

You smell of lemon antiseptic and dirt, arms wrapped in fresh bandages from shoulder to wrist. It’s an unpleasant combination, exacerbating the headache that gnashes on your skull under these fluorescent lights – darkness having been an ally to your concussion. The acetaminophen they’d given you at the med-bay has done nothing to aid your pain, and you’re convinced that the only thing that would work is a long, hot bath.

That is to say, you’re not ready to have this conversation.

When you don’t respond, Miguel stands from his seat, exercising the prominent muscles in his legs. His sweats do their best to conceal them, but you’d been in close quarters with him for far too long to have forgotten the way they bulge and shift with every move. If you focus, you can sense them now, pressing against your ass, pinning you in place.

He huffs. You doubt your glassy-eyed ogle is doing you any favours.

“Can’t make any promises.” You murmur, before deciding against it. It probably isn’t the best time to test him. “I’ll try my best.”

It’s the first time you see him in casual clothing, which changes him – much like sleep does. Outside of his suit, he looks younger, on a pedestal closer to common man. A white t-shirt stretched taut across his chest, loose pants. Lighter colours, in complement to his bronzed complexion.

Get a hold of yourself.

“For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve managed to weasel your way out of responsibility.” He starts. Wrong, you want to say, because your breakouts have always been based on pure luck. “You threaten falling into floors, to phase through walls. Except, when we were trapped back on 15. You silently accepted our fate, despite having every means to prevent it. It’s telling, in my opinion.”

You nod, already aware of what he’s getting at. “Sounds like you don’t need me to explain, so–”

“You can’t control your powers, can you?”

“Bit late in figuring that one out.”

“Then how’d you come about the day pass?” He presses, not so much questioning anymore.

As it stands, you have two options:

To lie. It’s easy, natural after a full year of it. Your interrogator doesn’t need to know the truth if all he’s going to do is send you back, and with his newfound revelation about the nature of your abilities, it could prove advantageous to keep their full scope from his knowledge. You don’t owe him shit.

That’s Wraith talking, of course.

The you you want to be, however, beckons for candour. There pervades the confessional once more, a box drawn around you, prompting you to relieve yourself of all your secrets so you can be cleansed. Religion – a fickle thing, but it feels right, here.

Besides, who knows when you’ll be able to talk to anyone again.

“I’m not… entirely sure.” Your frown tucks underneath your teeth, and you suck on your lip while trying to formulate a coherent answer. “It’s happened previously. It’s like a portal, except it’s invisible and appears on the irregular occasion. I was thinking of ho– my earth when it materialised by my hand.”

His forehead creases, drawing in incredulously.

“You can create gateways into other dimensions?”

“Not quite. My working theory is that, somehow, the boundaries between worlds are thinning. I think I mentioned how my intangibility works?” He gives an affirming blink. “My atoms find the quickest way through something, so maybe they’re able to do the same through, ya know, the literal fabric of space-time.”

It really does sound idiotic to put out loud.

Miguel cups his face, rubbing away the weariness gathered in his wrinkles. There’s a plaster over the contusion on his forehead, overcast by rowdy tresses of wet hair. You do your best to suppress the image of him in the shower, steeling your expression into one of indifference.

“That holds up. This started a year ago?”

“Yeah,”

“There was a thing with a super-collider.”

“A… thing.” The scientist in you cringes. Though, you have no room to talk.

“All I’m getting from this is that, if I were to send you home, you could just high-tail out of there whenever the opportunity arises.”

His distrust shouldn’t shock you as much as it does. You ponder the best way to go about this, yet your tongue betrays you, speaking before you can lasso it back under command.

“In theory, yes.” You pause, waiting for it to sink in. “But I won’t.”

Some grand gesture of faith that was, you imbecile.

“Sure.” He stresses, unconvinced.

Taking a step forward, you crane your neck to meet his eye. Patchouli catches the office draft, clouding your head until all that comes from you is unintelligible nonsense.

“I’m sick of this game of cat and mouse. I don’t want to be the bad guy any more.” Your thunderous heartbeat drowns the effect of your proclamation. It’s hard to tell whether you come across as genuine or not. “All my life, I’ve only ever done what was wrong, what was selfish.” You rephrase his earlier reproach. “Let me be right, just this once.”

Your conviction sways when he tenses. No; this doesn’t feel honest, not even to you.

You want to be good. With all the fire of every star in this goddamn universe, blazing hot and colliding to expel devastation upon its neighbours. It shrinks up in your core, skyrocketing in temperature. It verges on explosion; a supernovae, life-giving. You want. You want. You want.

But, you’re afraid you don’t know how.

“We can make a deal?” You offer, plummeting to new depths of uncertainty. A deal requires mutual credence; for every skipped vow, you’ll lose out on something too. “Let me stay, just until I learn how to be the hero you need me to be. After that, I’ll go home – I swear it. And you’ll never have to worry about me again.”

He gives no blatant indication as to whether he’s seriously considering it. His head dips, and he turns his back to you, likely calculating collective factors to form the best solution. The way you perceive it, though – this elongated reticence:

He sees no other choice.

chapter eight

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temeyes · 11 days

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Imagine 141 being teachers..what teacher would they be teaching🧐🧐

oh,,, OHHHH!!!! ok first of, thank you for sending this ask my way anon, i love it HAHSHSA!!!

starting with old man Price again: honestly i don't see him teaching? i imagine he'd be like the School Prefect. tho, if i'm gonna relate this on my personal academic exp, then I guess he'd be part-time/substitute teacher??? i think it would make sense if he taught English/Language classes considering he, albeit exasperatingly, corrected Laswell in-game about the Football-Soccer thing LOL

Gaz, i think, would teach History. he's everyone's favorite teacher because of two reasons: 1) because he's the most attractive teacher in the school and 2) he's passionate about his subject; meaning his teaching methods are actually fun and he relates to his students a bit more because he's still young himself! i think he's also the kind that teaches topics in a way that sounds like daily gossip.

Soap tho,,, he'd likely be a Physical Education teacher. BUT NOT BECAUSE IT WAS HIS CHOICE. i'm leaning towards the idea that he actually applied for a Science or Math teaching position?? but the school didn't have a P.E. teacher at the time (and he looked like he regularly went to the gym.) but he's good at it! he makes the sports time fun for everyone (even those who physically inept) and actually demonstrates how to play properly. he's firm but fair with his students.

and Ghost? he's the Lunch Lady- IM KIDDING. oh geez, i honestly don't know??? i'd say he'd be a Computer or a Personal Development teacher? but i'm sure he'd be a terror. not because he's mean or anything, but his quizzes, seatworks, and assignments are kinda hard?? if anything, if his students approach him, Ghost would have his brows furrowed like he's angry, yet he'd be soft-spoken and takes the time to help the kids if they're having trouble following.

just a smol bonus, but Laswell!! mother would be the Principal because i said so.

#damn... maybe i shouldve become a writer instead LOL..#answered asks #anon #call of duty #cod #tf141 #141 #task force 141

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xetswan · 10 months

Text

Youngest Shadow- Field Trips

One | two | three | four | five | six |

Bella and I stood next to each other, we had just gotten to our science field trip. I observed Bella’s eyes that went to the Cullens as usual. I then hear foot steps behind and before I can warn Bella, Mike pretends to be Dr. Frankenstein.

“Look! You’re moving. You’re alive!” He shouts, both Bella and I cringe. “Yeah false alarm.”

“Actually, I’m glad you’re not dead cause- well, that would suck, plus I wanted to ask you even though it’s like a month away…” He continued to talk, not even paying attention to the fact that she wasn’t facing his direction.

I watch Edward look up and over at our direction. Bella finally snaps out of it and looks over at Mike. It was a little late.

“So, what do you think?” He notices her blank expression. “You want to go? To prom. With me.”

I cover my mouth, looking away after seeing her horrified look. I try my best to refrain from laughing.

“Prom, as in dance. I uh- have to go somewhere. Yo Jacksonville. Yeah.” She sprouts out her lie.

“You can’t go another weekend?”

“Non-refundable ticket. Maybe you should ask Jessica.” We all glance over to across the lawn where Jessica stood. Mike then looks at me and my eyes widen.

“Don’t think about it. You’re not my type.” I sternly tell him.

He presses his lips together, sighing then going over to Jessica.

Both Bella and I make eye contact, laughing from that horrible ordeal.

Throughout the day I kept seeing two specific Cullens looking my way. And as that happened, each time I would look behind me as if there was something more interesting there.

Of course I would sneak some looks at them too but I’m hoping they didn’t notice or I wasn’t as obvious as they were.

We were now walking through the greenhouse and I saw Bella try to go up to Edward so instead of staying in between that I decide to walk ahead. Moving passed Edward and accidentally bumping into non other than Alice who seemed to have gripped tighter to Jasper.

Her grip loosened after seeing me. “I’m so sorry.” I bowed my head down a tiny bit to not look them in the eyes. She smiled motioning with her hand. “It’s quite alright.” Her voice was angelic, my face warmed up a bit and I start to feel embarrassed at how I was acting.

“I won’t be a bother, sorry again.” I stammered, going to walk away but she gently takes my hand for a second. I gasp at how cold she was.

“You can hang with us if you’d like.” My eyes wander over to Jasper who does a small nod, agreeing with his partner.

I shrug as a why not, finally straightening my posture and looking them in the eyes for only seconds at a time before looking somewhere else.

“Did those hurt?” She points to my piercings, since I flinch for a moment she instantly takes her hand back. “Oh, not really. I guess my tongue did but only the healing part.” I stick my tongue out, showing her. She stares at it.

I smile, closing my mouth, her nose scrunches in response. “I couldn’t imagine the feeling of metal in my mouth all the time.” She mumbles, almost inaudible.

“It doesn’t bother you after awhile. It kinda becomes you.” I say, purposefully adding a little dramatics at the end. I notice Jasper watching me intently. I smile and him and I didn’t even know his eyes could get wider but they did.

“Here, walk in between us.” Alice takes my sleeved arm, nod even between the fabric it still feels cold. I wonder if it bothers her.

I do as suggested, Jasper doesn’t seem so tense anymore either.

“You play Volleyball, I heard?” She asks, I grin just by the fact that she knew. “Yes! Out last game is coming up.”

“Really?” Alice looks up at me, I nod about to say something but Jasper beats me.

“We should go to it.”

My eyes light up but quickly I shot it down going back to a neutral expression.

“Yeah that would be awesome.” I agree.

For the rest of the trip I stood next to the two, it felt different but fresh as it wasn’t the same people I’ve been talking to for so long.

Someone other than Bella, Charlie, Jacob and Angela that enjoyed talking to me without using me to talk to my sister.

The buses arrived and we made our way over there, I saw Bella and Edward talking and it seemed to be upsetting my sister. I begin to walk over, picking up the pace and Alice joins.

“Hi, will you be riding with us?” She asks Bella but before my sister can say anything Edward interrupts. “No our bus is full.” He turns to go on the bus.

“Here’s my number, we should be-“

“Alice, come on.” Edward grabs her, stopping her from giving me the tiny paper. Jasper joins them, he gives me a sympathetic look and I give a small smile in return.

What just happened..?

“Your mother called, again.” Charlie calls after Bella who just stormed into the house trying to go upstairs to her room.

“Your fault for telling her about the accident.” Bella shrugs.

“She always did know how to worry.” His voice sounded sad. “But she’s changed, too. She seems happy. Phil sounds all right.”

“He is.” Bella goes up the stairs, I watch her spit the wedding photo Charlie still hasn’t seemed to take down.

The next day at lunch I stared at the Cullen table, unaware that I was doing it as I was thinking. Looking right at Alice and Jasper, infatuated with their relationship. Wondering what it was like behind closed doors. What kind of people they truly were. Why were they so nice to me at the field trip.

“La Push, baby. You in?” Eric and both my sister and I.

“Should I know what that means?” Bella raises an eyebrow.

“La Push beach, down on the Quileute rez. We’re all going after school. Big waves coming in.” Mike further explains. I already knew as Jacob had told me about the waves.

“And I don’t just surf the internet.” Eric makes a horrible joke.

“Eric, you stood up once. On a foam board.” Jessica called him out and even though I’m not fond of her. That was pretty funny.

“There’s whale watching too. You both should come with.” Angela chimes in and I smile at her.

“I’ll only go if you are.” I nudge her since she was right next to me. Her eyes widen at first but then she grins back.

“La Push baby.”

“I’ll go you stop saying that.” Bella says.

I knew Jake would be there with the others.

So of course I’m going to go. Plus, Angela is pretty cool. I love hanging out with her.

As Bella gets up to get food from the salad bar, I stand up as well but to go to the bathroom. “Where you going? Lunch isn’t over.” Eric questions me, they all look at me and I roll my eyes before turning to look at them. “I can’t piss anymore?”

Only reason I truly sit with them is for Bella and now Angela.

“Gosh you can’t ask questions anymore.” Jessica mutters, thinking I wouldn’t have heard. I raise my eyebrows, giving her a look. She presses her lips together and I head to the bathroom like I was going to do.

I enter the restroom, I actually wasn’t going to use it but to take a minute to myself before classes and everything. I normally am not overwhelmed so easily but something came over me like whiplash.

I heard the door open. “Sorry.” I whisper, going to get out of the persons way. “Hey, you alright?” The voice was small, gentle and I knew exactly who it was

“Oh, hey Alice. Yeah, I’m fine.” I force a smile, she stares at my face for a few seconds as if she was noticing me for the first time. Her expression was blank. Now it looks like she is staring off into space. I wave my hand for a minute, wondering if she’s okay.

Suddenly a smile appears upon her face. “If you say so, sweetheart.” She acts as if nothing happened. Going towards the mirror to fix her hair even though it laid perfectly. I watched every movement.

“So, you ready for that big game tomorrow?” She asks, I let out a shaky breath, laughing a bit at myself for being so nervous.

“Big time. Everyone will be there. We’ll make the paper if we win.” I tell her and she turns to face me once again.

“Really? That’s huge!” She squeals like it was actually important to her. “Yeah um, and I was thinking there’s this thing today. You should come, bring Jasper too.” I start,

Her head turns to the side. “We’re going to the beach if you’re interested.”

“Which one?”

I perk up to her answer, not expecting her to actually be interested.

“La Push.” I watch her expression falter the tiniest bit.

“Oh, how many people?”

“Uh, quite a bit.” I frown.

“I would love to. Really but Jasper has pretty bad social anxiety.” She sadly tells.

“I totally get it. Don’t worry. I’ll see you both at my game tomorrow though, right?” She seemed relieved by my response.

“Of course.”

“I keep thinking Eric’s going to ask me to prom, then he just doesn’t.” Angela tells Bella and I as we walk by the driftwood of the beach.

“You should ask him.” I tell her, Bella nods agreeing. “Take control. You’re a strong independent woman.” Bella exclaims like a motivational speaker.

“I am?”

“Totally.”

“Bella!? [Name]!” We three look up to see Jacob, Sam and Embry.

“Yes, you are.” I tell Angela before we acknowledge Jacob and end this conversation with her thinking to herself.

“Guys, this is Jacob.” I say.

“Are you stalking us?” Bella jokes.

“You’re on my rez remember?” He reminds her, “also you surfing? [Name] I’m surprised you’re not suited up too.” I just flip him off. “Definitely not.” Bella says.

“Keep her company, her date bailed.” Jessica teases and this is where I’m glad I’m not close with these people and they didn’t join me to the bathroom and heard my conversation.

Also I don’t think they would be cool with the idea of girls finding other girls attractive… sexually.

“What date?” Eric butts in.

“She invited Edward.”

“To be polite.” Bella argues, obviously embarrassed. “I think it’s nice she invited him. No one ever does.” Angela inquires, I think she is so sweet.

“Because Cullens a freak.” Mike sharply tells. “You got that right.” Sam speaks up and i grimace, not expecting that from him.

“You know them?” Bella questions.

“The Cullens don’t come here.”

I notice Jacob give Sam a look.

Everyone kind of stands there awkwardly and Bella ends up pulling Jacob aside, and she seems different. Like she’s trying to be flirtatious with him. And Jacob still having that puppy love crush is absolutely falling for it. I shake my head, sighing hoping he doesn’t get hurt. But I have a feeling Bella’s going to accidentally do so.

I go over to Sam and Embry as Angela decides to hand around Eric. “You got a little hot-headed out there.” I poke Sam who huffs in response. “Cullens are that bad?” I turn to Embry who looks down.

“You’ve heard the story before at the campfire, [Name]” Sam says, basically telling me I should remember one of these stories that I was told years ago. I press my lips together, shrugging my shoulders. “The Cullens were supposedly descended from an enemy clan. Does that ring a bell?”

I shake my head, “not really.”

“They claimed to be different than the normal enemy. So we made a treaty with them. If they promised to stay off Quileute lands we wouldn’t expose what they really were to humans.” Sam explains further, cutting it short than what Billy would have said.

“What are they-“

A scream emits from further down near the water, it was Angela being chased by Eric who holds a dead crustacean.

I end up not repeating my question as it seems to upset Sam. Going to join Jake and my sister who sat together.

Chapter four😨

Unedited, sorry if there are mistakes.

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pandorasprongs · 11 months

Text

CHAPTER THREE | so inviting, i almost jump in.

'it's nice to have a friend' masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

SUMMARY: jamie and reader go out for drinks and meet a familiar face that brings up a painful memory for both of them.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: i'd like to apologize in advance for this one because the end is just 100% angst so brace yourselves sorry :')

It was like deja vu. Over the past weeks, you and Jamie started hanging out on a regular basis. Late nights and weekends were often spent eating pizza, watching old movies, and searching for old schoolmates online. He even helped you re-organize your room when he arrived during one of your cleaning days. You uncovered a box of old toy rings that Jamie gave you every birthday of yours for five years.

Initially, Jamie would message you if he was on the way. But the more he came over, it went back to your usual habits of him just showing up at your door at random hours of the day. When you weren't home, he'd message that he dropped by and then you'd call him when you got back. He'd race over to watch another one of your favorite childhood movies.

You hadn't realized how much you missed it all till you started spending time with Jamie again. You missed it so much that you may have neglected to mention to Liv how often you were with him. Despite the mini-sermon she gave you weeks ago about confronting Jamie, you hadn't actually made any moves to do it. All of this started to feel normal, regular, and the thought of disturbing that scared you too much. Even if there were times where you were annoyed at how casual he talked about the past few years of radio silence from him. Or how he'd mention his Man City teammates and you felt like tensing up every time.

There was no need to bring it up anymore, something you repeated to yourself. Plus, you were noticing that Jamie was now closer to your childhood best friend than the one who broke your heart. But still, you were cautious around the footballers Jamie associated with. Even when the season started again and Jamie would offer to tour you around the clubhouse or reserve tickets for the games, you'd always politely decline. You're sure the AFC Richmond players aren't terrible people given how highly Jamie would talk about them, but better to be safe than sorry.

Besides, with his now swamped schedule, you hadn’t seen Jamie recently. The most you did was when he’d send messages before training or games to which you’d answer with a “Good luck!” It was weird in the beginning, given that when he was at Man City, Jamie didn’t do any of that, but you hoped that this meant he wouldn’t leave again.

The next time you did was the night after one of their games, which continued their winning streak, thanks to Zava. While you knew Richmond fans — well, Liv and Frankie — were absolutely ecstatic to have him, Jamie despised the guy. You stopped yourself from pointing out the hypocrisy of him hating the player for being self-centered and thinking highly of himself.

You guess it’s working though because now you’re watching Richmond secure their fifth win in a row with your neighbor’s kid, Ronnie. When her mom found out you were a Science professor, she practically begged you to tutor her kid (and occasionally babysit). Ronnie was in primary school, so the lessons were pretty simple and you’ve been doing sessions every week to help her out. You always rewarded her afterward with whatever she wanted to watch on your TV that was age-appropriate, of course. This time, — after running back to their flat to get her Obisanya shirt, — she decided on watching the game.

“Zava’s incredible,” she murmured next to you, staring at the screen as if in a trance. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the reaction. The game was finished and so the channel was just playing match highlights, which for Richmond, were mostly their current star player. Sometimes, you’d spot Jamie in the background and even though the rest of the team was cheering along, he was having a hard time masking his resentment.

When you were finally able to drag her away from the TV, you heated up two plates of lasagna. Ronnie’s mom still hadn’t knocked on your door and you didn’t want to leave her alone in your flat, so she was having dinner with you tonight. For the most part, it was just like eating with Jamie. She was non-stop talking about the match which turned to talking about her favorite players and future games. It reminded you of Jamie as a kid, who’d go on and on about the exact same things.

As you’re washing dishes and Ronnie’s answering some extra worksheets, — she asked for them! — you hear the doorbell ring. You go over and find Jamie standing at the door, much to your surprise.

“Hey! Didn’t know you were coming over,” you say, but after noticing his exasperated expression, you tilt your head. “I know you don’t like a certain teammate, but I thought you’d at least be happy about the win.”

Jamie sighs. “I know." He gives you a weak smile, and you have to admit that even that simple act made your heart skip. “Is that lasagna?”

Jamie enters the room without warning and as soon as he does, your eyes widened remembering who else was there. You turn to the dining room table at the same time as Jamie and together, watch a 9-year-old stare in awe.

“Oh my God,” she let out. “That’s Jamie Tartt!” She walks over to you, leaving behind the worksheets.

You lean over and whisper to Jamie, “Forgot to mention I’m watching my neighbor’s kid.”

But Jamie’s already jumped into celebrity mode. He crouches down and confirms, “That’s me.” He glances at her oversized jersey before asking, “You a fan of Richmond?”

Ronnie nods her head enthusiastically. “I’m Ronnie! Congrats on winning!”

Jamie chuckles, and thanks her. “Nice to meet you, Ronnie.”

You hear someone approach the door and clear their throat and you turn to find Ronnie’s mom looking curiously at you. You turn back to Ronnie — who has now launched into a full monologue about how much she loves the team — and exclaim, “Look who else is here! I think it’s time to head back to your flat, Neens.”

She pouts at that statement, but one look from her mom and she was waving goodbye to the player. You quickly collect all of her stuff scattered around the place and hand it to her mom, who seems too exhausted from her shift to even notice the other person in the room.

Once you close the door, you lean on it and sigh in relief. “Sorry about that. I sometimes watch her after tutoring if her mom isn’t back, yet.”

Jamie shakes his head. “Nah, not a problem. I love meeting fans. Real ego boost.”

Yet another countless eye roll. “Calm down. You’re not even her third favorite player.”

Jamie scoffs, almost offended but after remembering the lasagna, he heads to the kitchen for a plate of his own. You walk beside him and after tripping over a loose marker Ronnie left, you fall forward. Jamie's reflexes kick in and he catches you quickly and you grab hold of his — really broad, you notice — shoulders to steady yourself.

Now you're stuck in a position that happens in almost every 90s rom-com you've watched: your feet diagonally off the ground with Jamie's hands gripping tightly at your waist. Both of you are too much in shock to move and simply look at each other with wide eyes. Your faces were close, too close to be platonic if it was intentional. So much so that if you leaned forward, just a little bit…

You snap out of the trance and move to stand straight up as Jamie lets go of you. You head over to the sink and quietly curse at yourself and that stupid blue marker. Things haven't been weird between you and Jamie for ages. And you weren't going to let the possible resurfacing of your feelings ruin that. Not again. Plus, if you were already burying your old feelings of resentment, why not add onto it too?

You go back to washing dishes when Jamie asks you a question. "Are you doing anything Saturday night?"

Given what just happened, your mind wanders off in the romantic direction before you shake your head. Instead, you respond, "I think you know better than anyone that I never do anything Saturday night." You reply as you wipe your hands. "Why?"

"Just wondering if you want to get a drink with me. Well, you get a drink and I get water 'cause fucking Roy’s banned me from alcohol till the season’s over. I just really need a night out. Fucking Zava, I swear." Forget the fact that he was technically at a night out with his teammates earlier; he more of just wanted a night out with someone who isn't so related to his football life. Or, he just really wants a night out with you.

You snort at that last comment but oblige anyway, ignoring the feeling of disappointment.

Jamie and you had only ever hung out together in the comfort of your own home. You'd just assumed that it was to avoid any unwanted press and since the bar he mentioned was one of those members-only pubs, it makes sense that the first time the two of you hung out publicly was there. But seeing as it was a pub, it's not going to be a romantic not-a-date date that you'll be going on.

Though, you soon realized how different it was from your usual places. Everyone there was dressed up so formally and you were glad that you picked the black trousers that you usually only wear to work over your everyday jeans that had paint stains at the bottom of them. Maybe you had worn it in case Jamie at the last minute decided to take a detour to a nice restaurant, but you were relieved either way.

The two of you ended up just sitting in the bar while Jamie complained about his most recent Twitter feud. Christ, you pray for Keeley Jones for having to deal with all his PR nonsense. When he starts shit-talking Roy for getting him up at 4 am for training, — “I thought he was joking!” — you end up tuning out of the conversation knowing how long the rant was going to be.

Your eyes drift off behind Jamie when you notice a familiar face. Suddenly, it felt like the walls were closing in on you. You could feel your breathing hitch and your fingers were scratching the inside of your palm. Before you could even consider doing anything, he reached you.

"Jamie Tartt!" The footballer's train of thought is broken and he turns to his former teammate to greet him. "Haven't seen you since you went off to be a reality star!"

Jamie simply rolls his eyes at the comment. "Well George, I haven't seen you since they forced you out of Man City!"

"They couldn't afford me anymore," He shrugs before his eyes land on yours. You shift in your seat and you can see the exact moment when Jamie notices how uneasy you've become. "And who's this with you?"

He doesn't remember you. And why would he? To him, you were just another crazed fan at a pub, one of many he's encountered over the years. You doubt that the memory of that night stuck with him the way it did to you.

"This is (Y/N), an old friend of mine," Jamie adds carefully and you build up enough courage to shake his former teammates' hand, but not enough to stay in this conversation.

"I'll let you two catch up while I get another drink." You explain, in an obviously fake cheery voice, but only Jamie spots it. He reaches out for your hand on the table to comfort you, but you swipe it away before he can.

You head off to the other side of the bar to order another beer, but you can't stop your eyes from shifting over to the pair of them again. Jamie looked so comfortable laughing and talking to George. You scoff at the sight. How could he act so chummy with that guy when he was the driving force for why the two of you ended on shitty terms in the first place?

Jamie's told you all about how he's been working on himself and trying to become a better person, but a part of you still feared that one interaction with that guy would unravel everything. He was an absolute prick; the number of fights and scandals Jamie had been in for his entire career was nothing compared to the amount George had in his first five years.

You wanted to trust Jamie, but he was always quick to change who he was when he was around certain people. You just hoped he had grown enough to not let his Man City "mentor" — too many of George’s scandal photos had a 19 to 22-year-old Jamie Tartt in the background — bring back the side of him he's tried so hard to erase.

You don't know how long they were talking, but by the time they moved over to the pool table, your vision was already starting to blur. The drinks just kept coming. Flashbacks from that night started to come in too: the spotting Jamie in the crowd, the confrontation, the holding back of tears, and the walk-out. You couldn't look over at the pair of them without an intense pain appearing in your chest.

Jamie looked back to where you were supposed to be seated and found you spacing out into a corner. It was the same dreamy and tired look you had the first time you tested your alcohol limit when your parents were out of town. Immediately, he abandoned the game of pool and rushed over to you.

"Maybe that's enough alcohol for tonight." Someone pulls the Cosmopolitan from your grasp and you squint your eyes to identify them as Jamie.

"Ha, that's rich coming from you." You can't remember how many times you've had to help Jamie sneak up the stairs and into his bedroom after a night out. "Aren't you still busy hanging out with that Man City prick?" Lack of tactfulness is the most obvious sign you'd drank too much.

"Woo, a little harsh there," You hear George come up to the two of you. You rush — well, more of stumble — forward to confront him, but Jamie holds you back. The retired footballer points out, "She's a feisty one."

"Let's bring you back to your flat, yeah?" Jamie offers softly, but you remove yourself from his arms and shake your head.

"I am perfectly capable of getting home by myself." You grab your clutch from the table. "Don't want to ruin another night for you guys, right?"

A pang of guilt visibly hits Jamie, but George is just left confused. You start to walk towards the exit and get to the door till you feel someone gently take hold of your left arm.

"You can't even see your phone clearly to book a taxi. I'll drive you home." Jamie's voice is low and whatever common sense you have left takes him up on your offer. He turns his head to say goodbye to George, but all the former footballer does is shout, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" following by a boastful laugh.

You clench your clutch at the comment, but Jamie brings you out the door before you can turn back and do something that'll land you on the front page of the Sun the next morning.

When you get to Jamie's car, he carefully helps you into the passenger's seat and puts on your seatbelt before getting into the car himself. Once the car starts, you take the chance to close your eyes in an attempt to remedy the throbbing headache you feel is already coming on.

You don't know how long you stay like that, but when you open your eyes, you're already at your building. You slowly get out of the car and once you make it to the sidewalk, Jamie asks, "Can’t believe you just downed a dozen drinks like a recent divorcee."

"I wonder why," You scoff and side-eyed him, unwilling to move your head from looking forward. You see the footballer's expression drop and suddenly you understand what Liv was going on about. You finally break. "How could you still be so friendly with him, Jamie! He’s an absolute arse and everyone in England knows it!"

"He was my teammate! And still a major name in football, even after retirement and all the shit he’s done. I didn't want to risk anything!" Maybe if you were sober, you'd accept that reason. There were countless alumni, tenured professors, and chairmen that you had to suck up to just to keep your job. But were drunk people ever known to be rational?

"Is that why you let him talk to me like that? Back in the pub?"

"You two barely spoke a word to each other," Jamie points out but you shake your head furiously.

"I mean back in Cardiff!" You exclaimed loudly and you knew for a fact that at least one of your neighbors had heard your outburst. But you didn't really care.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You went to walk up the stairs, expecting it to be the end of it. If Jamie didn't have anything to say, then what was the point? He'd let you walk away and tomorrow morning, you'd be back to normal and you can just pretend this night didn't happen. You've done it before.

"You said you didn't want to talk about that." Jamie finally speaks up.

"I thought I didn't," you admit, your voice levels lower than before. You continue walking when you feel a presence following suit. You stayed in that silence till you made it back to your flat. It's a miracle you didn't tip over on the way in, but spite was enough to power you through.

Jamie closed the door behind him and sighed, "I couldn't just ignore him at the bar."

Suddenly, any fear of confrontation seemed to disappear. Your anger resurfaced and you spit out, "You seemed just fine ignoring me for seven years." You turn to face him and for a second, the pitiful look in his eyes almost made you back off. Almost. "Or is abandoning your best friend easier when she's not some big-shot footballer?"

"I know you're mad," Jamie starts and you angrily run your hands through your hair.

"Yes, I'm mad, Jamie!" You shout and you watch him take a step back, but you don't falter. "I'm mad at you! Seeing George tonight just reminded me of it and how a part of me still fucking hates you for taking their side."

"I've been trying to apologize—"

"I know, Jamie, but I'm still pissed at you, okay? For leaving me like that! And for letting me leave that night! I mean, how could you? Just throw away a decade of friendship for some football assholes that threw you away the second they could." Everyone knew how Jamie's career with Man City ended and it was surely a sore spot for the player, but at that moment, you didn't care.

Before Jamie can even defend himself, you start again. "I... fuck Jamie, I loved you. You were my best friend. I would've spent every waking hour with you if I could've. But you couldn't care less about me, right? The moment someone more famous than me believed in you the same way I always did. You just stopped answering my calls, and my texts, and even my parents when they asked you for me! Worst of all, you didn't give me a single reason why!

"Honestly, I would've been fine if you did stop being friends with me, as long as you gave me an explanation. Even if it was for some stupid reason that I wouldn't understand or hate you for, because at least I could've moved on! Instead, I spent years wondering where it all went wrong. If I could've done something, anything to change what happened." You start to feel the strain on your throat and know for a fact that at least one of your neighbors would be eavesdropping, but you were finally letting it out.

Your voice comes out hoarse, "And then the next time I did see you, in that pub, you were a whole new person. A complete and utter prick, Jamie. After that night, I prayed that you'd come to your senses. Do the decent thing and apologize, even if it was just a fucking text or something. But no, you kept ignoring me and pretending I didn't even exist. So I forced myself to stop thinking about you. To stop caring about you calling me. To stop dreaming about you telling me you fucked up and that you were sorry. So I could move on with my life."

You look away from Jamie and around the living room in an attempt to stop the tears from flowing down. You were unsuccessful. "And after years, I did move on. I went to London, got a job, and stayed as far away as I could from football. From you. But God, you always find a way back to me, huh?

"It just had to be you who found me in Nelson Road that night. It had to be you who picked me up, who drove me home, and reminded me how happy I was when we were kids. So much so that I thought I'd be fine without an apology! As long as I had you back in my life, it'd be fine. But as you can tell now, it's not." The amount of alcohol in your system was wearing you down and you were starting to get tired.

You start to lose your balance when Jamie's there to catch you, but you harshly push him off you. He doesn't seem affected by your strength, but even then, he moves back.

"Just get out, Jamie." is all you manage to say this time and after hesitating for a moment, he does. Now you're left alone again, only with your thoughts and the realization that any chance of bringing back what you had with Jamie was gone.

A/N: and that's that! i hope this teases the interlude nicely cause i'm sick of being so vague about that night since that's up next and trust me, it gets worse in that one... anyway i hope you all enjoyed this one!

TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @skewedcherries @jamirtarttdodo @meg-ro @deepdarkvelvet @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fanfic #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt angst #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #it's nice to have a friend series

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thewertsearch · 28 days

Text

GG: aaaaa please dont tell anyone i told you about him! […] CA: settle dowwn jade youre radically underestimatin the amount of shit i dont givve about this […] CA: i got bigger ships to sink and soon wwhen im good and ready me and my luminous fuckin science stick havve got a date wwith jack noir

Seems like Eridan's planning to join Vriska.

Correction - he's planning to rejoin Vriska.

If he's trying to restart their kismesissitude, he's going to be sorely disappointed. Vriska is out of his league, and not just as a romantic partner. She's a god, and he's an angry kid with a wand who represents no threat whatsoever to Noir.

CA: wwhys this matter so hush hush anywway GG: he didnt want me to tell my friends who he really was […] GG: he was so nice, and it really did feel like i was talking to family, so i really dont think he was making it up

I think your intuition is correct, but that doesn't mean he's specifically your grandson. After all, 'family' is a term which can encompass all sorts of relationships.

GG: i couldnt help but try to imagine his parents… GG: and more interestingly……. GG: his grandfather :O

Even if he is your grandson, that doesn't necessarily mean he has a grandfather. As far as I can tell, there's no reason why the Veil's DNA-mixing machine couldn't merge the genes of two women.

For all we know, Pen-Pal could have four biological grandmothers!

CA: that gun i just gavve you is somethin of a hatchright to the kid CA: happy i could play a role in your dirty stinkin lineage GG: like an heirloom? i guess it could be GG: do you even have those? if you dont have parents how could you? CA: no wwe dont knoww our direct forebears and im pretty sure any attempt to seek out or evven inquire about the supplier of your genes wwould be a fine wway to get yourself killed

I didn't think a troll's genes had an individual supplier.

Based on the fact that their genetic material is combined in the Mother Grub, I've been assuming that each troll is created from a large number of 'parents', whose DNA is mixed in the Mother's stomach.

Obviously, our Sgrub trolls are going to be an exception to this rule, since the game presumably cloned them from twelve Guardians - but Eridan seems to be implying that all trolls have an individual parent.

This doesn't align at all with what we know about troll reproduction. There also seems to be a certain amount of secrecy surrounding this process, since Eridan thinks you'd be killed for looking into it. Is there some sort of conspiracy at play?

CA: but wwevve got our lore and it says wwe all got indivvidual ancestors wwho contribute to most of our genes abovve and beyond wwhat the grubs slurry does

Alright, that makes a little more sense. So trolls are derived from a large mixture of DNA, but they have one true 'parent' who contributes the lion's share of genetic data.

Maybe an embryonic troll starts off as a clone of this parent, and other trolls' genes are slowly spliced into it as it develops.

Again, for the Sgrub trolls, things are a little different. We have reason to believe they were cloned in sets of three, implying that each of them has three genetic donors. Perhaps, then, they each inherited the majority of their DNA from one of these trolls - their 'ancestor' - and only share a small number of genes with the other two.

These ancestors have been mentioned before - quite a while ago, now - and I think they may be the key to solving a major mystery of the Hivebent arc.

Namely, Aradia mentioned her ancestors, and seemed to believe she was following their orders. When Scratch's plans started to reveal themselves, I assumed that he was the one directing Aradia, and was only pretending to be these unseen forebears.

With this new revelation, however, I'm forced to reconsider my stance. What if the Voices were those of the ancestors?

What if Aradia was being instructed by the troll Guardians all along?

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s107 #3176

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mlmmetalhead · 2 years

Text

Kinesthetic learner

Request:

Eddie Munson x Male reader

CW: smut, heavy dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk, degradation, overstim, possessive kink, no prep no protect, a lot of dialogue for some reason.

An: I was listening to Rob zombie while writing this, man's music does wonders to me, but I also feel like the actual smut is a little short, this was a little rushed and I don't really like it

taglist: @deddiemunson

WOMEN DNI

"Oh come on, you can't be that much of a bore!"

Y/N exhaled, lowering the book to his knees, death staring the guy sitting next to him, Eddie's hands tangled in his hair, legs crossed in front of his torso, as he looked at his "tutor" with a slight disappointment.

"In fact, no, I am not. If you didn't notice, I'm not a big fan of all this either. I wouldn't be here, only if I had the option."

"Really?", Munson smirked, shifting in the chair, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, "That's a shame... I'd hope you would at least get some kind of sympathy for me, all this time..."

He sighed, pretending to pout and look down, his eyes switching to Y/N from time to time. The other, however, left unresponsive to Eddie's playful attempts, maintaining his death gaze, left eye twitching. Rightfully so, not everyone could be cheerful and playful after four hours of tutoring Eddie Munson. Well, tutoring is a stretch. More like trying to tutor, while he is acting like a three year old who's being forced to eat his veggies. It was seriously pissing L/N off.

***

"Hi Eddie. I expect you over at my house today, at 6. I believe you have a project in science for-"

"Ooh...", Munson turned around, facing the guy talking to him, while slowly leaning against the lockers, crossing his arms, "Yeah, sorry, no can do. Not today, at least. You see, a new campaign is going to start, right on Monday, and I really, really, need to finish it, you gotta cut me some slack here, man. I'm struggling!"

"Sorry, but I can't just tell the teacher that I cancelled our meeting, I remind you, once again, just because you need to go do nothing all evening."

He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to look at L/N with the most confused and offended expression possible.

"Yeah, sorry, I- Hah, I think you didn't quite catch me. I'm not going to be doing nothing, alright? It's extremely important to write down every single detail of the campaign, even if I'm a good improviser, that won't save me when-"

"When the teacher is going to ask you, once again, to be the first one presenting your project. But it's alright, I guess you could just present them your D&D campaign, right?"

Eddie bit his lip, lowering himself against the lockers, eyes darting somewhere down, while scratching his cheek. Then, as if a lightbulb went off in his brain, he switched his gaze back to Y/N, a smile growing on his lips.

"Do you think that could work?"

***

Munson went up to his trailer, whistling some songs to himself, keys swinging on a finger.

"Look who finally decided to show up!"

Eddie almost jumped at the unexpected voice coming from behind. There stood no other than Y/N, his lips pursed, brows furrowed, and the familiar death gaze almost burned a hole in Munson's forehead. The other guy, however, smiled, hooking his hands behind his back, hips swaying in a playful manner.

"Heey there, L/N! What are you doing here? Wait! Don't answer!", he put a hand in front of him, hips freezing for some time, before the stretched out hand went back up to his chin, stroking it, as if mimicking thinking. Immediately after which, he retrained the hand back behind his back, jumping on his two, "Yes! I will go out with you! I was starting to think you wouldn't ask, man, I was kind of scared that-"

"I'm not here to ask you out, stop playing one of your games, I've been waiting here for almost an hour, and the only thing that was keeping me here was the thought, that I would get to tell you how much of a pain in the ass you are."

With the playful expression dying off Eddie's face, his hands wandering back to his sides, blinking a couple of times, he pursed his lips, eyes darting away from the other guy.

"Sorry, what'd I do?"

"You can't be fucking serious, can you?"

L/N watch in disbelief, as Munson shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, looking back at his tutor, waiting for a verdict of his guilt.

"Eddie, this was the last chance on this week's meeting. We had one planned on Tuesday, but you couldn't show up, so we moved it to Wednesday. But when I went to your house on Wednesday, we studied for exactly fifteen minutes before you had to go somewhere. So we moved a meeting on today. At seven. And you didn't fucking show up, and apparently, you don't even know we had a meeting?"

"Oh..." Munson scratched his back, loudly inhaling and biting his lower lip, his other hand sticking to his side, as if glued on, "Yeah, sorry, I... I didn't really... Remember, y'know? I had band practice and..."

***

"Heyy! Earth to Y/N? Where are you?"

Eddie snapped his fingers in front of Y/N's face, as the other one blinked, coming back to the present.

"Oh hey, handsome. There you are, what were you thinking about, hm? Was it about me?"

L/N’s gaze met Eddie’s, as he processed the smug smile on the guy’s face. And in this exact moment, the face made him unbelievably mad.

“Well? Are you going to tell me what were you think-”

“Shut up.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me,” Y/N stood up from his chair, towering over Munson, “I’m tired of your childish antics, and the way you treat this whole thing. You always have something better to do, making me run around searching for you like a lovesick teenage girl, as if I don’t have anything better to do. Do you know how many plans I had to move and cancel because of you, huh?”

Eddie gulped down, trying to move away from Y/N, lowering off from his chair, holding up his hands in defense. “Hey, um- I’m sorry, dude, I promise we can figure this-”

“Oh yeah, you should be sorry, Munson. I neglected sleep and important health routines to come to your house, only to receive nothing but a bunch of disrespect towards me and my time. I don’t know what kind of a romantic scenario from a teen’s book you think this is, but I don’t like all of this, I don’t find your pathetic attempts at flirting cute, or entertaining anymore. You want to know what I think? I think you’re nothing but a noisy, annoying, disobedient brat.”

Eddie exhaled loudly, the look in his eyes shifting from pure fear to something more, as his thighs rubbed together, tongue wandering over his lips, “I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?” his voice fell quieter, hands wondering closer to Y/n, but still not touching him.

L/N furrowed his brows, back straightening up, trying to read the expression on the others face. But boring into his big, brown, pleading eyes just irritated him more. Y/N grabbed Munson’s chin, holding his face to look himself directly in the eyes.

“You’ll have to do a lot, that’s for sure, you little fucker. What possibly do you have to offer that would make up for all the time I wasted on you?”

Instead of answering, Eddie slightly opened his mouth, his wet tongue pushing past his lips, as it touched and massaged Y/N’s thumb, being so conveniently pressed almost against his lips, all while not breaking intense eye contact even for a second. L/N furrowed his brows, quickly pulling his arm away, looking at Munson, sitting in front of him in somewhat of disbelief and confusion. He began wiping his hand on his shirt, until an idea popped into his head.

It was clear what the Dungeon Master was hinting at, not that it wasn't unexpected: he always was pretty flirty with the other, clearly expressing his interest. And even if Y/N was unbelievably annoyed by almost every single one of his actions and words, he couldn't deny that Eddie was quite attractive.

Slowing down the hand motion, Y/N came back closer, once again towering over Munson, a predatory look in his face, which made the other one's breath faster. Without any words, L/N's hand wandered into Eddie's hair, and pulled his head up to meet his own face, their lips smashing together.

Eddie moaned from suddenness of the contact, desperately griping Y/N by the shoulders and moaning into the kiss. Their teeth clashed together, saliva dropping down both of their chins. Munson moaned once again, grinding his crotch into L/N's leg, to which, much to Eddie's disappointment, Y/N pulled away, licking his lips and admiring his work while still holding other guy's hair in his iron grip.

"Get on your knees. And don't waste my time."

Munson quickly nodded, still not completely processing what was going on, as he got on his knees, looking up at his partner, as he removed his belt and undid his pants, slowly massaging his shaft through boxers. It wasn't long, before Y/N's dick was out and almost touching Eddie's nose. Licking his lips and quickly switching his eyes to the others face to get permission, Munson carefully opened his lips and the head of L/N's cock disappeared in his warm mouth.

"Oh yeah, that's it," Y/N hissed, once again tangling his hand in Eddie's hair, pushing himself down his throat, moaning, "Your mouth is so warm... Doesn't look like you struggle that much, you do this a lot?"

Munson tried shaking his head or making a noise of disapproval, but he could only whimper and choke on the massive cock occupying his mouth. L/N chuckled at the others attempts at communicating.

"You know that's not true. Eddie The Freak Munson, is also a pathetic little cocksucker. I wonder why didn't you just use your pretty little mouth to pass your classes, huh? I wouldn't be here right now, if you were just smart enough to... Oh fuck... To use the skills you have."

Eddie moaned around the shaft, as he tried to take even more in his throat, his pretty eyes watering, as he looked up to look Y/N in the face, pulling at his hips.

"Eager, baby? Don't worry, you'll get more in a second."

Y/N smiled darkly, as he pulled out of Munson's throat, leaving saliva dropping from his gaping mouth, catching air.

"Thank you... S-so much, I... I wanted this for so long..."

"Oh, don't worry, you made that really obvious. Now don't waste more of my time, and get on the bed. Get those clothes out of my way."

Eddie happily obliged, getting undressed just in seconds, climbing on the soft sheets, laying down, hair spread out, thighs rubbing against one another, trying somehow to make the growing erection better. As Y/N climbed in after him, his shirt discarded somewhere in the room, Munson bit his lip, eyes exploring the exposed body of another guy. L/N spread Eddie's legs apart himself, titling the other body, that way his cock pressed right against Munson's tight asshole.

"Wait- You're not... You're not going to... Y'know, prep?"

Y/N looked at Eddie, once again, with the familiar death gaze, loudly exhaling.

"You don't deserve to be. I'm not wasting my time on you, once again."

And with that, wasting no time, he pushed in, Eddie's loud moans bouncing off the room's walls. Y/N groaned, still waiting for some time, before pushing even forward, drowning another prolonged moan from his partner. Munson moaned, tears dripping down his cheeks, his eyes squinting, as the tearing pain went up his whole body from the sudden penetration. And even though it felt like thunderbolt of pain went up his whole inside, along with it, a wave of a different feeling came rushing straight to his brain, making him almost short-circuit. Mind clouding pleasure filled his thoughts, as everything Eddie could feel was L/N's big cock exploring his insides.

"Just like that. You fucking whore. What are you smiling for? You like that don't you? You like it when I fuck your brains out? Huh? Answer me."

Munson whimpered, hardly capable of any coherent words, as every single thought of his was fucked out by the next thrust of Y/N's hips,"Y-yeah... I like it...", Was all he could muster up, before his eyes rolled back, high-pitched moans escaping his throat.

L/N sped up, biting his own lips, with a loud spanking noise landing a hand on Eddie's ass, earning a pained whimper from him, "That's fucking right. Take it, you mouthy slut. That's what you get for being such a brat," with another spank.

With a loud moan and a shiver down his whole body, Eddie came, spilling on his stomach, eyes closing.

"You loved it a little too much, I see." Y/N smiled, wiping the cum off Munson's stomach, before pushing cum covered fingers up to his lips, "Clean up the mess you made, bitch."

As an obedient little slut he is, Eddie opened his mouth, gladly taking the fingers in his mouth and letting his tongue explore, sucking and licking them clean.

"That's a good whore."

Munson moaned at that, his hand rolling onto his eyes, as his whole body shook from the thrusts. Lips trembling with overstimulation, his spent cock getting red and hardening a little.

"I'm so sorry... I'm sorry for being so bad... I-I love your dick. I love your dick so- so much, Y/N."

Y/N smiled, rewarding Eddie with a particularly deep thrust, before resuming his merciless pace, while gripping at the others thighs.

"Oh yeah? Tell me more, baby boy."

Eddie gulped, trying harder to form a sentence, "It was a while since... Since someone pounded me like this, ah! Ha... Please, use my fucking hole... I wanted that big cock of yours for awhile. If- if you want... You could be the only one who's allowed to use it."

Munson moaned, once again rolling his eyes back, as he felt another climax nearing. He lifted up his legs in the air, hooking them up behind Y/N's back to pull him even closer. L/N groaned, biting down into Eddie's neck, exploring it with his tongue and teeth.

"Mark me! I'm all yours, Y/N! All yours! I'm sorry for being such a bad boy, I'm going to behave!", Tears trickled down to Eddie's open mouth, mixing with his saliva.

"That's what I needed to hear, baby," L/N groaned in Munson's ear, as his thrusts became more sloppy, his hand gripping Eddie's ass.

"Please, give me your load! Please, please, please, Y/N! You can use me like that whenever you want! Whenever you're not satisfied with my behaviour! I'm yours, your little fucktoy!"

Eddie screamed at the top of his lungs, as he came again, feeling that Y/N did soon after, too, his seed spilling inside Munson, as he moaned, throwing his head up.

Eddie quietly whimpered, as his partner layed beside him, both sweaty and breathing heavily.

"I will not be... Late at any of our meetings... Ever again."

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animentality · 1 year

Text

Depression and ADHD took away my ability to enjoy novels a long time ago, when I was 18.

I used to be a big reader. Ever since I was a kid, I'd plow through hundreds of books a year, no joke, no hyperbole. I was raised by an older mom, who didn't let me watch TV or use the internet until I was about 12, so books were the thing I loved most, aside from games I could play on the Gameboy Advanced or the SP or the Nintendo DS.

But books I could read under the desk at school. Books I could smuggle more places. I always had a hyperactive imagination. It was like watching a movie or a tv show in my head. I was a child perpetually lost in day dreams and fantasies.

I could read anything at all. Romances, historical fiction, fantasy, science fiction, literary.

I snapped up just about any story I could get my hands on.

But then I became a teenager, and then I showed symptoms of depression.

And I still read books, but in lesser numbers.

I read less and less every year.

And then I went to college. And then things just got worse.

I stopped watching movies, which were something I used to adore. I couldn't, literally could not, watch TV shows. I couldn't muster enthusiasm for anything at all.

I played video games, but they didn't make me happy. They didn't stimulate my imagination or give me joy.

They were just something I could use to while away my time in between the agonizing bouts of loneliness and apathy.

If I didn't have them, I would just be lying in my bed, in the utter darkness, staring up at the ceiling, wishing there was something, anything at all, that I cared about.

So I got my BA and master's degree, and all the while, every day, I asked myself why I did anything at all. Why I was not happy.

Why I didn't care about anything.

Just about the only thing I cared about was the books I was writing, and even them, I felt this horrible notion that they were all I had, and yet, that was nothing. They were as empty as I was.

So anyway.

One day, I started researching bridges to throw myself off of.

And uh. Well. Not to go into any gory details, but there was one friend I had, a long distance internet friend, who got concerned and sent some of my more troubling messages to my mom.

Who then took me to a hospital. And anyway, that part actually isn't important. All that matters is that I got medicated.

And the world sort of turned itself over, and I could start over.

And then suddenly the world wasn't brighter, it wasn't happier, but I could feel things again.

I could have interests. I was interested in everything, the way I used to be.

And then I started to love movies again. and then I started to love TV shows again (Cocaine Bear and Severance come to mind first, not sure why, but that's irrelevant, I guess).

And finally, we come back...to novels.

So this year, I have been reading books. Great books. Some bad books.

And some wonderful.

And I just wanted...to talk about The Night Circus.

by Erin Morgenstern.

Because this book...was breathtakingly good. Like.

Like...I have been out of practice.

I have been reading some decent books. Books with great premises, but disappointing follow throw.

Some great books, but with predictable twists or rather tired prose. Books that I liked, but won't think about again.

And then I read Night Circus. And suddenly, I...I knew what it felt like. Again.

For the first time in maybe seven years, I suddenly remembered this feeling I used to have, as a child, hiding behind a bush during recess, and reading Redwall or Animorphs or Goosebumps.

I was almost giddy with the feeling, it was like stepping back in time.

Back to before I started hurting, and even before I started feeling nothing at all, and everything felt so bright. So filled with lively colors.

I was vibrating, I was so emotional, I was so invested.

I literally was about to go to bed at 2 am, a reasonable time, but the Night Circus picked up, and it was suddenly so imperative that I finish it right now. I could NOT tear myself away.

And I am close to tears.

Not just because the book was wonderful and sad.

Honestly, this is hilarious to me, but as much as I loved the book, I still found myself criticizing some of its makeup, specifically slow pacing and some of the meandering. There was also a somewhat anti climatic solution to a problem that I sort of wish had been explained sooner as a possibility.

But honestly, it doesn't matter at all! All that mattered was that it thrilled me! It fascinated me! It spoke to me directly and grabbed a hold of my heart.

It tore me away from what I was planning on doing and dragged me into its world, in its pages, and I was moved by the book!

It's so fucking hard to move me! Especially a novel.

Movies and TV shows can move me much easier, because there's something so very human about needing to see faces, hear voices, experience the raw emotions through a screen that captures it all.

But this novel....Night Circus...oh my god, I had not felt so powerfully fond of a story in a long time.

I finished it, and I thought, this was what it was like, being ten...and yet, at the same time, as familiar as it was, it was also something new.

This was rediscovering something beautiful and lovely and old and new. It was drudging up the past, while creating something worthwhile, in the present.

It was the good kind of hurt.

It'll stay with me forever.

I was so happy. I am so happy.

I never expected to love this book so much.

I honestly don't even care to call this a review. I almost don't even want to talk about the specifics of its plot or its world or anything.

I just wanted to talk about how wonderful it felt to be so immersed in anything again.

To fall into a book and never want to leave its pages, and to be jarred by reality, when you realize it's over.

I am so glad to be happy, after that long dull period where nothing mattered.

I am so happy to be here. I am so happy to be alive.

To watch a good movie, to see a good show, to write novels where good things happen, where love and despair and joy and misery all happen.

To read a spectacular book, late into the night.

If I die tomorrow, I will be most disappointed, but at least, I could experience the best things in life again.

At least, I remembered in the night before my passing, what it felt like to be inspired and shaken by the creation of another person, to be touched by art, that moves you and changes you irreversibly.

I want to read more.

I want to be alive for as long as I possibly can.

I want to see the world change and I want to live every day of my life and I want to watch every good movie and every good tv show, and I want to read hundreds of books again. I want to write thousands of books.

And I don't know how you, in particular, found me or this post, but I hope whoever you are, you're also doing things that you like.

I hope you find that story you need. or make the story you need.

I hope you remember this feeling, and experience this feeling for the first time.

Maybe Night Circus is your book, maybe it's not, but either way, I wish it upon all. Upon everyone.

Read, write, draw, watch, create.

Do it all, and then do none of it, and go the fuck to sleep.

#writing #writers on tumblr #the night circus #erin morgenstern #spilled ink #depression #adhd #reading #book recs #literature #aaghahaha #im gonna combust #i am drowning #good night all #this shall be buried in the dirt of 4 am

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nyaagolor · 1 month

Note

fun prompt: apollo playing either breath of the wild or another video game you like, and trucy and ema backseat gaming

Trucy flopped directly onto Apollo's lap, looking up at him in disapproval as he held the joycons away from her prying hands.

"Polllyyyyy," she groaned, "how did you manage to find a boring way to play breath of the wild?"

Apollo frowned at her, shifting himself to better see the screen and avoid her occasional attempts to swat away his controllers. "It's not boring, Trucy, it's how you're supposed to play it!"

She kicked out her feet. "Yeah, which is boring. Where's your sense of exploration? Of adventure!! You're always sticking to the script."

He huffed. "Yeah, well, nothing else in my life ever seems to go on-script, so sometimes it's nice to have something relaxing." When he looked down, she blew a raspberry at him, and it was just as he gave up the game and started to rustle her hair that Ema walked in from the kitchen to observe the commotion.

"Ema, Polly is being boring again!" she pouted. Ema huffed through a mouthful of mac-and-cheese she had undoubtedly stolen from the office fridge.

"Yeah, and? Grass is green, Trucy. Science has proven he's boring."

Apollo turned around to gawk in indignation, giving Trucy the opportunity to snag his joysticks. "HEY!" he shouted, unsure who to address first. "I am not that borin-- Trucy gimme those."

Ema sat on the couch next to them just as Apollo managed to roll Trucy off his lap and onto the floor, wrestling back one joycon in the process. "Lemme guess, you 100%ed the museum in all your animal crossing games," she said. Apollo's hand dropped, letting Trucy snag her lost joycon once again.

"I... we-- that's not relevant."

#ace attorney #apollo justice #trucy wright #ema skye #fic requests #vex writing #ask #mod vex

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

Note

you got the wayne munson/scott clarke brainworms into my head, now deal with them (affectionate)

fair warning: i have no idea what i’m doing

“Oh, you don’t gotta get ready, Munson,” Danny says with a smirk as Wayne reaches for his work clothes and helmet to get changed.

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Guys decided you’re on kids duty today,” Danny explains with a leer, all too satisfied with himself. Wayne just raises his eyebrows, thoroughly unimpressed and unwilling to play games this early in the morning. “There’ll be a class coming by later, y’know, getting the good ok’ tour through the plant so their teacher can teach them what not to do with their lives.”

It’s said in that same tone they always use when talking about the job. Everyone hates it here. But they don’t hate the money. It’s a safe passageway into bitterness that Wayne tries not to follow.

So he sighs and heads outside again for a smoke. Wayne doesn’t mind the school trip days, they provide a welcome distraction; and he usually gets to keep out of it anyway, just walking along as the teachers do the talking, reigning in the kids that are either entirely too bored, or entirely too motivated to fuck shit up. Usually school trip days end with one or two stories to tell Eddie.

The cigarette is better company than his coworkers anyway. Far less depressing. And far less talkative.

The moment of silence is interrupted when a glaringly yellow school bus pulls up on the comically large car park. A man who looks like the comic book version of a science teacher actually jumps out and approaches him with a friendly expression Wayne wants to be wary of. But maybe it’s the gentle features, maybe it’s the big eyes, maybe it’s the ridiculous sweater vest. The point is, he’s not wary at all.

“Good morning!” the man says in what must be the the dictionary definition of chipper. “Hawkins Middle School, Scott Clarke is the name. Could I ask you to tell me where I can possibly find one mister Wayne Munson?”

“You’re talkin’ to him,” Wayne says around his cigarette.

The man, however, is not deterred in the slightest. “Wonderful! Guess we get to spend the morning together, then.” He ends on a chuckle Wayne would once have called endearing. But nothing is endearing at 7:30 in the morning. So he refuses.

Mr Clarke goes back to the bus, a right spring in his step as if he’s really looking forward to spending his day in this godawful plant. Maybe this day won’t be so bad at all.

“So, how do you like working in a plant?” Mr Clarke asks him, but contrary to the other teachers who like to make an example of Wayne one way or another, Clarke asks him privately. As though he’s genuinely interested.

“‘S fine,” Wayne answers truthfully, his gaze sweeping over the kids, busy as they are with some kind of work sheet. None of them are up to any funny business. Clarke really has a way with them. They seem to like him. Wayne can’t remember ever having liked any of his teachers. And what’s more, Clarke really seems to enjoy this. His friendly expression only shifts to excitement when he explains something, and it’s sort of fascinating to watch. Not that Wayne’s been watching.

It’s just that he doesn’t see many friendly faces, especially not around here, so he soaks it up while he can.

“How do you like bein’ a teacher?”

His face lights up like a nuclear glow stick and he goes on to tell Wayne about the joys of teaching, all while answering the kids’ questions, asking them not to run and not to bother the others while they’re still working.

As they continue with their tour, the two men stick together as if by a strong magnetic pull. Wayne even finds himself listening with rapt attention as Mr Clarke goes on and on about what kind of possibilities and dangers plants like this one bring, not only on a local or national scale, but globally. Hell, Wayne learns things about his job he never even cared about.

And he wonders how his life could have gone if there’d been someone like Scott Clarke in it. Not just as a teacher. As a friend. As a person. Maybe joy and excitement wouldn’t be strangers. Maybe genuine interest and kindness wouldn’t have become a thing of the past. Even clad in a sweater vest like that.

And if Wayne finds himself smiling for the first time in a really long while, he blames it on that sweater vest, too. And maybe on the way that Mr Clarke asked for his contact details so they could get together and perhaps cooperate on more school trips like that.

Not even Danny’s babysitter comments can sour his day, the note with Mr Clarke’s home telephone and address secure in his pocket.

Umm hello??? May I kiss you on the forehead? Bc I do know what you're doing and it's called BEING A GODDAMN GENIUS holy fuck!!!! I am very much not normal about this thank you very much. The way you capture both their personalities, and the way you phrase Wayne's inner voice? PERFECTION. I'm not even exaggerating, seriously. I'm fully on the Wayne/Scott train now. What should we call them? Scayne? Clarkson? Something more original? Help me! I hope it's okay if I add a lil something to this btw :) It's 1am and I should be asleep but hey this isn't gonna leave my brain anyway so I might as well get to it right away.

'What's this?' Eddie asks, tapping the note that's taped to the wall right next to the telephone.

'Nothin...' Wayne says. And usually it's quite convenient how his nephew needs less than half a word to understand him, but right now, he curses how in sync they are - because a truly devilish grin starts spreading over Eddie's face.

'Nothin, huh? You sure 'bout that? Should I...' He pauses to take the horn off the hook, still looking at Wayne in the exact same way the stray cats around the trailer park look at the fat birds that make their nests at the edge of the woods. '...call to find out?'

'Don't you dare, you little shit. I'll kick you out.'

Eddie only throws his head back in laughter. 'You would never.'

And he's right, of course he is. Wayne wouldn't dare joke about that if he wasn't one hundred percent sure that Eddie knew for a fact what a big fat lie that was.

'So you gonna tell me who it is?'

When Wayne keeps stubbornly silent, Eddie taps the note again, his big rings shining in the lamplight. 'Come on, there's even an address on it, I could just drive over there right now and find out for myself! You should've done a better job at hiding this shit if you actually wanted to keep your little secret.'

Wayne sighs; yet again, Eddie is right. He doesn't keep secrets, not from Eddie. Never.

'You know a Scott Clarke?'

It's almost comical how fast Eddie's jaw drops, and how wide he expands his already huge eyes; it makes him look like some comic book character.

'Are you kidding me?! He was my science teacher back in middle school! Tall, moustache, huge nerd?'

Wayne can do nothing but nod in confirmation, waiting for Eddie to inevitably laugh at him for at least five full minutes on end.

But that doesn't happen; the sudden softness in Eddie's gaze catches him by surprise.

'Jesus, Wayne – he's fucking awesome, man, seriously! One of the best teachers I ever had!' Eddie is practically skipping through the trailer now, his hair dancing around his face. 'I always thought he had a bit of a gay vibe, to be honest. Ha! I knew it!'

'Don't get your hopes up, boy,' Wayne answers. Because yes, he had an unexpectedly fun morning with Scott, and passing the time with him had been easy, and at some point they had laughed together about nothing like they were teenagers, and Scott had given him a somewhat mischievous smile when he gave Wayne that note – but he can't know. He can't assume. It simply doesn't work like that for him.

'Sides, you know I don't do relationships anyway,' he adds to tone down Eddie's enthusiasm.

Eddie frowns – reads between the lines exactly as well as he always does.

'It's been legal for ten years now, you do know that, right?'

'Course I do,' Wayne mutters. 'But for a long time, it wasn't. I'm glad you're too young to really understand what that means.'

Eddie lets himself fall onto the couch with a sigh. 'You should just give him a call. See what happens.'

Wayne snorts. 'Why do ya think I taped that damn note to the wall? Callin' him as soon as all the nosy eavesdroppers have left the building.'

Eddie laughs again, that serious expression finally leaving his face.

'Alright, hint taken, I still needed to drop by Rick's place anyway.'

And in his usual whirlwind of movement, he shrugs on one of his leather jackets, jumps around to get his shoes on his feet, and pats Wayne on his head before he rushes out of the door - only to pop back in within two seconds to get his keys. Then, silence washes over the trailer, Eddie's engine fading away in the distance.

Wayne isn't going to call. Not yet. Not today. But he will keep the number taped to his wall until he's ready.

#wayne munson my beloved #idk there's just something about acknowledging that he's from the generation before eddie's #the generation that couldn't be out and proud #that's so important to me #like we've come a far way since the 80s #but man have the 80s come a far way from the 50s #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #wayne munson #scott clarke #eddie munson #wayne munson x scott clarke #(yes this is a tag now. deal with it.)#stranger things #clarkson my beloved

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darkestprompts · 5 months

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I really like the Duelist,, I don't have the game but I've seen a lot of people having fun playing her and I like her.

But for me, her character backstory is so booooriiing

She just did stuff because yes.

I like trying to analyze the characters reason to do something. The believes and values they have and how it weights on them.

-Why did this character did that? How? What made them choose this? How does it affect them and the people around them? -

And stuff like that I guess,,

But she has none of it. Nothing at all.

I was wondering your opinion on her backstory and if you had any headcanons or something that could give her some reason¿?

(Idk if I made myself understandable, I'm pretty confident on my english but I still have moments of doubt¿)

Saludos desde Chile/Greetings from Chile

🇨🇱

Saludos a todos mis hermanos de Latinoamérica!

Sahar, Sahar, Sahar... I'm still mulling over what I'd rather they had done with this character, so forgive me if this is rambly.

I'm disappointed that the Warlord is Reynauld's nemesis and not hers. It could have gone the way of her as a failed hero who tried to stop the invaders, emphasizing her lack of experience outside sports in spite of her technical excellence with the Warlord's raw brutality. That would be a very different character, more foolish and naive than morally questionable.

Now, I'm the first one to say that I'm all for women's wrongs. I love villainous women, morally gray women, unpleasant women. But to be blunt, Sahar feels like the MCU's idea of a badass female character circa 2012. She's PRETTY and PERFECT and KILLS MEN and DOESN'T CARE. Ok, but why is she like that? Does it make sense? Is her journey interesting? Is she allowed to have feelings like a normal person? Is she allowed to be complex and contradictory?

I like that Paracelsus missed the fundamentals of ethics in her pursuit of the refinement of medical science. I like that Audrey will soil her hands for her own survival and comfort. I like that Josephine will betray anyone who stands between her and her goals. I can understand their reasons even when they are morally wrong.

I can't understand why a top-level athlete suddenly lost her shit and decided to kill the person she loved, then run off to try to stab Cthulhu&Friends. It's not even that she is a robot, because a robot would presume some kind of logic.

The other character that suffers from a similar lack of structure in the way he is written is Damian. He used to be a man with extreme beliefs that made him dangerous and intolerant. But now you can't even figure out what he believes or stands for, they turned him into some CrAzEe guy, because masochism funee. It's lazy writing and it's not interesting.

If I were to stick close to what they gave us, I would try to ground the narrative. Alright, she got lost in a rush of bloodlust while fighting her man. Why is HE happy that she killed him? That's stupid. Make it so she loved that thrill, the moment of unbridled violence, but has to contend with the horror and fear in her lover's eyes as she killed him. Make her anxious to find that feeling again, but afraid that she has lost her mind. Let guilt and temptation tear her in the middle.

Or if you want her to simply be an unrepentant jackass, have her challenge a rival to a duel with the full intent of killing them, then be forced to run away when her scheme is revealed. She only regrets that she was discovered and that's fine.

#darkest dungeon #asks #anon #dd duelist #dd sahar #thoughts

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holocene-sims · 3 months

Text

next // previous

august 16, 2021 11:00 p.m. grandma ong's house

there’s a strangeness to a quiet enclave in a bustling metropolis, unexpected in the same manner as grant and henry’s long, unbroken brotherhood. nothing about the baseline rustle of neighbors carrying in paper grocery sacks and kids kicking a soccer ball resembles the eternal merry-go-round of life–max-capacity subway cars, clueless and loud tourists, and locals who drift through their day–just down the road. and yet above this neighborhood–and the entire sprawling city–hangs a common thread, a bluish hazy night sky.

“that was wild,” henry says, suppressed laughter bursting forth from deep in his chest, “all day everyone’s defaulted to speaking english because, well, look at you, and you even had me fooled. i actually forgot you kind of speak basic korean."

“the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.”

henry rolls his eyes dramatically but in the same split second, throws an arm around grant’s shoulders.

“i was afraid that soup was going to fly out of your mouth.” grant returns the gesture, though it requires him to lean down so as to not smother henry’s face instead. “too close for comfort.”

“well, in my defense, i was not expecting you to reply to my grandma asking me, “daehyun, i haven’t seen your friend since your wedding. how did you meet again?”

grant shrugs. “we met on a playground twenty-four years ago.”

“on my very first weekend as a resident of the semi-good ol’ US of A. in the opposite situation. i remember being so pissed that my parents made me go out to ‘make friends’ that weekend. not moving, mind you, but making friends. i guess they were psychics, though, because apparently, it didn’t bother you that i didn’t speak your language for at least a couple weeks.”

“people say i could talk to a wall.”

henry laughs again. “you could. you’re very chatty.”

“did it bother you that i wrote you some really, really, really shitty letters in korean in the early days based on online translations i found?”

“no, that was sweet.” no question about it–the joy in henry’s eyes is determined. “they were definitely horrendous, but it’s the thought that counted. you could do better now. oh, and i think i still have all those letters. i should. i did box them up when i moved out of my parents’ house.”

they were, all things considered, never very much alike, beyond the fact they both liked cats but weren’t allowed to have any. henry’s mom was allergic, but grant’s parents despised pets. otherwise, they were polar opposites. grant always liked math and science, wanted to work with airplanes, and preferred to spend his free time with others playing tabletop RPGs and computer games; henry always liked art and history, wanted to be a photographer, and preferred to be left alone to his vintage film camera and pottery. grant’s parents raged when he selected aviation over medicine; henry’s parents and grandparents, all artists, were delighted by his dreams of photography. moreover, grant selectively speaks his mind, while henry rarely minces words.

and still–

the shrill honk of a car off in the distance disturbs grant’s thoughts.

“you really could talk to a wall, but hey, why did you approach me on the swing set that day? you were already busy hanging out with your sisters. and your cousins. why me?”

and still, the two have fused into one. the world turned upside down; grant paints these days, henry has long been a willing dungeons and dragons player, and separation from one another is like losing half your body. if henry walked away now–ended this messy half-hug early–grant would turn to ash.

“well,” grant begins, drawing out the suspense with an exaggerated sigh, “first of all...”

#ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #sims 4 storytelling #simblr #hlcn: everything the stars promised #holocene.docx #holocene.png #hlcn: grant #hlcn: henry #it's been a WHILE since i've done a text-based update on this story so i apologize if the tone is off at all #then again this story has undergone quite a few stylistic changes and there's nothing wrong with that #btw i haven't even written anything outside of academic papers in so long i just have not had the spark or energy for a long time #so i'm kind of proud of this bc it took more effort than usual #wow i miss creative writing being 100% instinctual to me jdsfdsklfds burnout is so real y'all and it's got HANDSSSS #insert a NONE OF THIS IS ABOUT THIS PARTICULAR MOMENT IT'S ABOUT THEIR WHOLE FRIENDSHIP comment #hehehehe i love setting up future posts :3 i love foreshadowing :3 #also yes we wait to find out the answer to that last question :) but it's coming #aaaaand we will find out more about henry i promise this isn't it

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shyxcherry · 2 years

Text

Frenemie | KYS

summary: You met San your first semester of college. When he introduces you to his friends, it goes well. That was he introduces you to Yeosang. Since the day you two have met, he’s been rude to you. You have been able to take it, but what happens when he takes it too far?

pairing: Yeosang X Reader

genre/warning: college au, enemies to lovers, angst, smut (blowjob)

Word count: 4k

note: a halloween scenario for one of my favorite days of the year. this is my first time writing smut, so please bear with me as i get used to writing it. feedback is greatly appreciated!

You push open the doors to the library as you hurry inside. The fall weather had made itself known this past week as the as the temperature dropped. This was your favorite time of the year. The leaves changing color, the cool weather, and the holidays being around the corner. You couldn’t wait to watch Halloween movies with your friends like you always do.

You made your way up to the second floor where you were meeting your best friend San. You and San met in your first semester of college. His was in your English class, and the two of you got paired up for a project together. The two of you got along great, and here you two were a year and a half later. The two of you had similar degrees as well. You were going to college for computer science and engineering, and his degree was chemical engineering. The two of you were quite the opposite. He was very loud and outgoing. He was never scared to say what was on his mind. You, on the other hand, were on the quiet side. You normally would just sit there and mind your business as San would go on his hour-long rants.

You saw the blonde hair boy and made your way over to him. You ruffled his hair around as you sat beside him. He looked over at you with a smile.

“Well, if it isn’t my best friend.”

“You’re just saying that because I brought you this.” You hold out the drink that you picked up for him. He let out a small squeal of happiness as he took the coffee from you. He took a sip before letting out a sigh of relief.

“This is why I love you.”

“I know.” You start to pull out your things. As you did, you noticed someone else’s stuff laid out in front of you. “Who is studying with us?”

“About that.” San said scratching the back of his head. You looked over at him. “Look I tried to stop him, but he insisted on coming with me.”

“Hello, princess.”

You looked up and saw the devil sitting in the seat across from you. Oh, you meant Kang Yeosang. You were introduced to him by San, though you wished you haven’t. All of San’s other friends you’ve met have been nice to you, even becoming friends of yours. Except Yeosang. He has been a complete asshole to you ever since you’ve met. His first words to you were an insult to your shirt, and it’s went downhill from there. You can’t ever say anything without him responding rudely to you. Even if you weren’t talking to him. You have gotten better at insulting him back, but it still hurts you. Especially when you had a crush on him when you first met. Even now, you can’t deny his looks. You just wished his personality was anything as good as his looks. You honestly couldn’t tell if you still had that crush because every time you look at him now, all you see is anger.

“Yeosang, you promised to be civil.” San told him.

“I just said hello. How much nicer could I get?” Yeosang asked.

“Hello, Yeosang.” You greeted. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good until you showed up.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I guess 5 minutes was too much to ask for.”

The three of you started to study together. Well, you and San were studying while Yeosang was playing a game on his phone. You and San were both asking opinions about your studies, and Yeosang could only stand hearing you talk for so long. It went on for thirty minutes before Yeosang opened his mouth again.

“I don’t see how the two of you are friends?” Yeosang commented causing you to roll your eyes.

“I could say the same about you.”

“Don’t start, you two.” San warned.

“I’m just saying.” Yeosang raised his hands. “She’s just a two-faced bitch who is leaching off of you. Who knows what stuff she’s saying about you behind your back.”

You look at him in shock as he said those things about you. I mean, I know the two of you didn’t get along, but you didn’t think he thought that lowly of you. That stung you a little as you sat back in your seat. You watched as San scold Yeosang for what he’s said about you. Yeosang talked right back to him. You didn’t pay attention to much of the conversation, but you did hear Yeosang say something along the lines of “She’s pathetic.”

You refuse to listen to him belittling you any longer. You shut your laptop before putting that and your notebook in your bag. San tries to grab your wrist to stop you.

“(Y/N), please don’t leave. Yeosang will apologize.”

“No, I’m not.”

“No, am done being belittled by someone who clearly thinks the world revolves around him.”

“I mean, it does.”

You look at him dead in the eyes. “I wish I could forget the day that I ever met you.”

“(Y/N)” Yeosang starts to say, but you interrupt him.

“Go fuck yourself.”

You turn around and leave the table. You quickly wipe at your face as the tears fall down them. You didn’t want to lose a friend like San, but if Yeosang was in the picture, you were going to have to.

You hum along softly to the music in your headphones as you open the door to your favorite café. The small of coffee and baked goods enter your senses lulling you into a calm manner. There were many people in the café, so you were able to have a large booth to yourself. You throw your bag on the seat before ripping the headphones out of your ears. You place the headphones and your phone on the table before turning and making your way towards the counter. You looked over the baked goods that were in the display case before deciding on a blueberry muffin, your favorite. You ordered that and a hot chocolate, the weather outside perfect for one.

You take your hot chocolate and your muffin and make your way back to your spot. You get comfortable in your seat before pulling out your laptop. You stuff your headphones and pull up your half-written essay for your Software System class. You were supposed to write a 10-page essay of how different software systems are helping the economy today, and what ideas you had that could help increase that. It was due on Friday, and it was now Wednesday. You wanted to finish it before because the was a Halloween party that you and Chae were going to. You were 6 pages down which was good for you. You didn’t normally struggle with writing essays, but you’ve had a lot on your mind. You shake your head when a certain male pops up in your mind.

You had spent a good thirty minutes on your essay when you were interrupted. You flinch when your headphones were ripped from your ears. You look up to see a mess of vibrant purple hair sliding into the seat in front of you. They fix their hair to reveal the culprit. San.

You had been ignoring him and the others for the past week. As much as you hated it, the farther away from them you were, the farther away you were from Yeosang. San had been messaging you nonstop, even if you said that you were busy. He knew you too well.

“What’s up, loser.”

“What are you doing here? No of you ever come to this place. It’s too ‘boring.’” You brought your hands up to quote boring. You loved the atmosphere of this place. The colors were mostly neutral, which you were a fan of. The always played classical music. It was very calming.

“Because you weren’t at the library or your dorm. Chae said that you were here.”

“So, you were looking for me?” You asked taking a sip of your drink. “Why didn’t you just text me?”

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“Correction, I’ve been ignoring all of you.”

You flinch as the man in front of you kicked your shin. You kicked him back before pulling you feet in, tucking them underneath you. You rubbed at your now sore shin. You could already feel the knot forming.

“This is why I’m ignoring you. You’re all so mean to me.”

“You poor baby.” San laughed at you being overdramatic. “Only one of us are mean to you.”

“We were having such a good conversation. Why did you have to bring him up?” You pout.

“Because I know that’s why you’re ignoring us.”

“You’re not wrong.” You admit. “I’m tired of not being able to say or do anything with a smartass response from him. We’re not in high school anymore. I’m done dealing with that bullying shit.”

“He means well.” San spoke making you roll your eyes. You slap his hand away as he tries to take some of your muffin, but it doesn’t do any well. You watch as he takes the rest of your muffin and stuff it down his throat. “As long as I’ve known him, he’s never talked about his feelings well.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. That’s disgusting.”

San’s response was to open his mouth, showing the contents of the chewed-up muffin. You grabbed what was closest to you which was a crumbled-up piece of paper and threw it at him. You laughed as it bounced off of his head. You stuck your tongue out at him when he called you a bitch before picking up the piece of paper.

“All foolishness aside, I think that you and Yeosang should talk. I know he’s sorry.”

“So, I can have him call me a two-faced bitch again?”

“I already scolded him for that.” San told you. “And by scolded, I mean I got kicked out of the library for yelling so loud.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“I know Wooyoung also chewed him out for it.” San mentioned. “And now he’s starting to realize how much he hurt you.”

“Then why hasn’t he apologized?”

“Have you met the guy? He’s the most stubborn out of all of us. He wants to do it in person, but you’ve been ignoring all of us.” San explained.

“Why is this so important to you?”

“Because the dude’s in love with you!” San raised his voice. He let out a loud gasp as he covered his mouth with his hand. “You didn’t hear that.”

“I did, but that doesn’t mean I believe it.”

“You don’t?” He asked.

“Just because you said something doesn’t mean I’ll believe you.”

“That’s exactly why you should believe it!”

“So, you’re telling me that man who has been rude to me for the past year has feelings for me?” You cross your arms as you look at him. He nods his head in agreement. “So, we’re back in middle school where the boy bullies the girl they like?”

“I never said he was smart. Just talk to him, okay. I promise you he won’t be mean.”

“What about the party Friday? Will all of you be there?”

“What kind of question is that?” San asked. “If there is alcohol, we’ll be there.”

“I’ll talk to him them.” You tell him. He looked at you skeptically. He raised up his hand and stuck out his pinky finger.

“Promise?”

You roll your eyes and link your finger with his.

“Promise.”

“Good for you. You look happy and healthy. Not me if you ever cared to ask.”

You watched Chae sing into a hairbrush as you finish getting ready for the Halloween party. You would yell at her for being noisy, but the whole hallway was getting ready for the party. Some girls were even getting ready out in the hall for some reason. One had claimed that it was cooler.

Chae had already had five shots of vodka with some girl outside who snuck some alcohol into the dorm. She had also convinced you to take three. You almost said no until she said that it was some sort of unspoken rule to go to a party sober, so you complied.

The two of you were going to the party as Maddie and Cassie from Euphoria. Chae had forced you to binge watch it with you, and the two of you fell in love with the show. Chae wanted to be Cassie, so you were Maddie. Not that you minded. You liked Maddie better. Only downfall was the makeup. It took you a solid half hour to do her normal dramatic makeup, but you somehow did it. And it didn’t look have bad. Chae had to help you put on false lashes, because you couldn’t do it to save your life. She also forced you to let her do your hair. She pulled your hair up into a half ponytail before curling it.

The two of you hitched a ride with someone from Chae’s class along with five other people. Chae had to sit on your lap to fit, but you didn’t mind. You did have to slap her a few times as she danced to the music that was blaring from the radio. She made up for it when she fell out of the car when it parked. She claimed in her defense that the girl next to you, Seulgi, had pushed her.

You could hear the music blaring from down the block where you parked. You could see everyone from the college was making their way to the house in their costumes. You could see someone in a Scream costume running towards the two of you with a plastic knife. You couldn’t tell who it was, but when you saw a familiar face running after him, you realized who it was. It was your two friends Mingi and Yunho who you had met through San. Mingi was dressed up as Scream, and Yunho was James Bond.

Mingi ran past you screaming at the top of his lungs. Yunho got tired of running after him and stopped beside you. He placed his hand on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

“How much has he had to drink?”

“Nothing.” Yunho laughed at you. “This it typical Mingi behavior. You should know this.”

You and Chae followed him as you entered the house. You could barely hear yourself think as the music was so loud. There were bright, colorful lights that lit up the place. Chae grabbed your hand as you made your way to where to drinks were.

“(Y/N), my love.”

You saw a flash of purple as arms wrapped around you. You squirm as your best friend squeezes you tight.

“San, let me go.”

San let you go as his partner in crime, Wooyoung, came over to you two. You looked at the two of them. It didn’t take a genius to know who they were. They were Raven and Beast Boy from Teen Titans. San was Raven, and Wooyoung was Beast Boy. San had taken his character to the next level by dying his hair purple to match Raven’s. Wooyoung had sprayed his hair green. They still looked good in your opinion.

“Guess who we are?”

You put your hand up to your chin like you had to think about it. “Are you Raven and Beast Boy?”

“We are!” San said.

“You’re such a cute couple.” Chae said after taking a sip of her drink.

“Chae, baby. You know that he could never replace you.” Wooyoung told your friend. San, let out a loud gasp at this.

“How dare you?”

You and Chae laughed as San hit Wooyoung with his costume prop. You took it upon yourself to make yourself a drink as these three were too busy. You took a long drink before you made your way to the dance floor. You had your drink in your hand as you danced. You didn’t normally act like this, but the alcohol helped you let loose. You swayed your hips to the loud music. You danced with a few friends that you saw. That was until you felt someone come up behind you. Their hands landed on your hips as you danced along to them. You assumed it was either San or Wooyoung, but you were wrong.

“You look amazing tonight.”

Your eyes widened as you turned around in his grip. You met the eyes of Yeosang as he stared at you with a smirk. The first thing you saw the crown on his head. He had dressed up as a prince. You could have made a scene, but you decided against it. You wrapped your hands around his neck before sliding your hands down his chest. You felt him flinch as your hand brushed over his crouch. You laugh at him as his grip tightened around your waist.

“You better keep up, my prince.”

You turned back around in his arms. You had a feeling you were going to regret this in the morning as you grinded against him. He was stunned for a second before he regained himself and danced with you. His head rested on your shoulder as you danced together. That was until you felt a problem. More specifically, his problem.

“You have a problem, prince?” You asked him. You felt him stiffen at your words. He had hoped that you couldn’t feel it. He didn’t want the moment to stop.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You turned to look at him. His face was red as he refused to meet your eyes. “Do you want some help?”

His eyes widened as he looked down at you. He thought you were joking for a moment, but you assured him you weren’t. He couldn’t believe what was happening to him. Were you really asking to help him? After all that had happened between the two of you.

As soon as he agreed, you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the stairs. You searched for a room that wasn’t locked and lead him in there before locking the door. You waisted no time pushing him onto the bed. Before you did anything though, you decided to have a little fun. You grabbed his shoulders as you straddled Yeosang’s lap. You played with the ends of this hair as you stared into his eyes. You watched as his cheeks turned red as he tried to avoid eye contact with you.

“The only question left to ask is what is in this for me?” You ask. You ran your hand down his chest. You watched his head fall back in pleasure as you palmed him through his jeans. “Are you going to repay me?”

“God yes.”

“Good boy.” You remove yourself from his lap before kneeling down in front of him. “Who knew that Kang Yeosang was such a sub.”

“I am not.”

You unbuckled his pants and pulled them down, revealing his hard length. You grab his length and start to slowly move you hand up and down. You enjoy the small sounds that come out of his mouth as you stroke him. As soon as he was getting into it, your hand stopped moving. His eyes opened as the looked at you, mouth agape.

“Why did you stop?”

“I think you know what I want.” You wink at him. “I want you to beg.”

You smile as the groan that came out of his mouth. He seemed like he debated against it, but he knew that you weren’t going to continue until he did.

“(Y/N), please keep going. Your hand feels so good.”

You rewarded him by starting to move your hand again. “You want only my hand. Nothing else?”

You hear him gasp as you lick a long strip up the underside of his length. You continue up to lick the precum that had started dripping down. You look up at him through thick eyelashes. You smile as you stop using your mouth and continue to use your hand. Not continuing with your mouth until he told you wanted.

“Use your words.”

“Will you use your mouth? Please.” You met Yeosang’s pleading eyes. You placed his tip in your mouth and started sucking slightly. You watched him throw his head back in pleasure. “Oh, God. You feel so good.”

You felt your confidence skyrocket as you saw the effect that you had on Yeosang. How he went from a bully to begging you to suck his cock. Especially since you didn’t have much experience in this, but he didn’t need to know that. All you knew was that you loved the sounds that came out of this mouth.

You started to bob you head up and down his length, your hand wrapping around what can’t fit. You saw his hand reach up to grab your hair but stopped midway. You let go of his length with a pop and pulled away slightly. You met his eyes once again as you pull all of your hair into your hands. You motion for him to grab it. You saw him hesitate to grab it.

“You can pull it. You won’t hurt me.”

Once you said that, Yeosang gently grabbed your hair from you. As you started to deep throat him again, you felt him start to pull your hair. You moan around him when he starts to pull harder. He seemed to like that as he would pull your hair harder every so often.

“God, (Y/N). You feel so good. I don’t think I’m going to last long.”

As soon as those words came out of his mouth, you released him. A loud groan came from his mouth at the missing feeling of you. Your fingers run up and down his shaft as you look up at him.

“Do you want to cum?”

“Yes, please let me.” Yeosang begs for you.

“Since you’ve been good.” You tell him. “Where?”

“Your mouth.” You wait a few seconds as you continue to stroke him. A low whine exits his parted lips as he looks down at you. “Please let me cum.”

You let out a low chuckle as you finally give him what he wants. You place your mouth around his shaft, bobbing your head up and down. His hand returns to your hair as you speed up your pace. You felt yourself becoming aroused at the small sounds that come out of his mouth. You can tell he’s close because his moans are becoming louder and louder.

Your name came out of his mouth in chants as he reached his climax. As he cum, you made sure to swallow all that you could. You removed your mouth from his shaft, a whine coming from his lips. You lick your lips as you look up at him. You got up from your knees to sit in his lap once again. Your chests touching as he tried to catch his breath. You looked into his eyes. This time he held eye contact which you enjoyed. He lifted his hand up and wiped the corner of your lips. You wrap you tongue around his finger as you sucked his finger. Your eyes met his as he watched you intently. You released his finger as you smirked at him. You lean closer to him.

“How was that?”

“Amazing.” He answered honestly. “Are you going to let me return the favor?”

You think about it for a moment. “Maybe later. You still owe me an apology.”

You pull down your skirt as you remove yourself from Yeosang’s lap. You fix your hair and makeup in the mirror before walking towards the door.

“(Y/N), wait.”

You turn to look at him. He fixes himself as he stands up from the bed. His eyes don’t leave yours. After that, you’re not as mad at him anymore. He wasn’t looking at you like you were some one-night stand. There were feelings behind those eyes. San was right. Even though you didn’t agree with his way of doing things, you could see how sorry he was. You still wanted an apology though.

“You have my number.” You interrupt him. Both you and him were tipsy. Not far enough to where you’re going to forget when happened in the morning, but not sober enough to talk about feelings. “If you message me in the morning, I’ll know you’re serious about this.”

“I won’t let you down.”

You smile at him. “I hope not.”

You turn and unlock the door before walking back out into the party. You spend the rest of the night getting drunk and dancing with Chae. You don’t miss locking eyes with Yeosang a few times as he watches you. You really hope he calls you in the morning. Because you don’t want to be hurt by him again.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez smut #ateez yeosang #yeosang #yeosang reactions #yeosang scenarios #yeosang imagings #ateez imagines #yeosang smut

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stem-sister-scuffle · 4 months

Text

STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 1 MASHUP 1

Shion Usuki (Xenosaga) vs Jadzia Dax (Star Trek Deep Space 9)

Shion Uzuki is a Computer Scientist and Roboticist!

Jadzia Dax is an Astrophysicist and Xenobiologist!

Why you should vote for each contestant:

Shion Uzuki:

"OK SO. Shion makes me very deranged so sorry for the 1.7k word essay in your inbox but also you asked for it and im not sorry. Right so on the science side, she and her Tragically Dead lover built KOS-MOS(a robot girl she has lesbian subtext with), who is designed to fight the eldritch abominations from space. She later has to rebuild KOS-MOS by herself and does so. She is very good at her job and the head and Chief Engineer of the KOS-MOS Project at the start of the game (at age 22).

Like this a 00s Main Character who is a woman in STEM who is single during the games themselves and gets to be Complicated. That in of itself is pretty subversive(so subversive there is a large contingent of dudebros who hate her to this day) and awesome, but the real kicker is how she is written.

She is also an extremely well written and developed character (ESPECIALLY for a 00s character)who has one of the most realistic depictions of complex-ptsd in media I have seen to this day. Very few characters come close or top her in my eyes. She is one of the best written characters in the 'xeno' metaseries imo, and that is VERY stiff competition if you have ever watched LPs or played those games.

I feel she should get best woman in STEM more because of how incredible of a character she is than anything else (though she is super smart and good at her job, its just the focus of the games is on her character development over her work).

!!SPOILERS FOR A EXTREMELY PLOT HEAVY GAME SERIES BELOW SERIOUS SPOILERS!! Also uh content warnings for abuse and trauma and stuff.

The majority of this is gonna be on how amazing of a character she is, more than anything so sorry if that wasnt what you were looking for. Promise shes doing science in the games and stuff. So Shion has got that PTSD, and her character arc is the continual chronic trauma piling up until her (not very good) coping mechanisms no longer work and she breaks down and hits rock bottom. It is here with the help of her friends that she finds the resolve to push through just a little bit longer and still find hope in the world. She ends the series on a hopeful (yet bittersweet) note. What is so good about her character arc is that its so realistic. She doesnt get stronger in the face of overwhelming trauma, she breaks down and begs for it all to stop already, and its only through others stepping in to help her despite her best efforts does she find the strength to have hope again at the end. People rarely get better in the face of The Horrors, they break or get worse. People don't expect this of characters and its rare to see, but characters that break are so important IMO, because trauma DOES THAT.

Shions life is a horror show and responsible for At Least Half the content warnings this game has(there is a lot), she even keeps getting goddamn EMAILS all through the first game while actively in the middle of a crisis, and yet she still pulls through. Its cathartic and wonderful to see a character stumble into a happy ending, not really heroically as much as teeth-grit dragging herself across the finish line, but getting it all the same.

They wrote that ptsd amazingly- so much so that long before you get to the specific trauma later games reveal, she displays traits that function as foreshadowing that you can pick up and guess. Her every action and reaction is informed by her trauma and its incredible how much thought went into it.

Early in the first game she has a seemingly hypocritical reaction to not removing the remote self-destruct sequence in the sapient robot people in the setting when she otherwise is very strongly for equal rights for them, until its revealed that she was there as a child during an incident when a whole bunch of them went berserk (because god melts people's brains and that virally infected them all- its this whole Thing) and killed a whole ton of people, including family in front of her. After this incident it was required to have this self destruct switch to prevent that from ever happening again.

This incident is also why she got into robotics and programming, because she didn't want to be scared of them and learned to see them as people in a way many others in the world don't. Her short temper is very clearly emotional disregulation characteristic of ptsd from her life of unresolved and untreated chronic trauma going back to her childhood. In the first game, she is still deeply in mourning (because her lover -named Kevin- got brutally murdered in front of her a few years previous) and still mostly running on the programming Kevin instilled(Kevin is also later revealed as a manipulative abusive dickbag), but over time she starts shaking it off- just in time for the plot to hit her over the head again (but we will get to that).

One thing people forget about ptsd is that it can make you just so ANGRY, and its nice to see a character that has that ptsd expression. That isnt the perfect 'good survivor' in response that people like. She makes bad decisions, she pushes people away, she gets snappy because she is running at the end of her rope by the third game and shaking her kneejerk fawn response. She is in a world where so much just keeps happening beyond her control and its horrible, and well, when you are in a situation like that you lash out just to control *something*. The narrative takes the time to be sympathetic to her even when she does this, and it means a lot to me to see that. And now we get to Kevin.

Shion is just starting to get better somewhat. Things are still terrible, but she is starting to have some progress on unpacking trauma and everything... Until a resurrected Kevin shows up and RUINS EVERYTHING.

See as stated before, Kevin is an abusive manipulative sack of dicks. When we see him at first in games one and two and up until his reveal, the red flags are all glossed over and barely noticeable because we are seeing things from Shion's unreliable memories and perspective. Kevin was well-liked, so people have good things to say about him too, which reinforces this. Shion very much behaves, if you know what to look for, like someone whos been through some specific emotional abuse, even as early as the first couple hours of the first game.

But then he shows up (clearly working for the bad guys) and ruins all the progress made. Then asks Shion to join him.

And after some time, Shion agrees, and goes back to her abuser. When people write abuse victims in media, the always make what people tend to consider is 'the right decision'. Very rarely, if ever, do they go back to their abusers the way people often do in real life. A lot of people don't leave their abusers, or they may leave but they go back later. Shion just wants to be happy and not in pain, and at least with Kevin she knows there will be nice things sometimes, instead of the horrorshow that is currently happening. She knows he is using her, that he WILL hurt her again, but she doesnt care because in the moment it feels like the decision that will keep her happiest and most safe.

She feels in the moment -especially critical to this- its the decision that will keep all of her friends the most safe. She is protecting them from Kevin by giving herself up and begging them to stand down. I feel that is something most people dont catch. She is playing peacemaker with her abuser to protect the party, and it doesnt work, but she tried. They never directly say that she has done this kind of thing before, but the very quick way Shion tries to smooth things over implies that this is something she has done in the past and she is trying to make it work again.

When you have been in a relationship like that, sometimes the abuser feels safer(better the devil you know, etc), and when Shion is mostly running on the basest of instincts to survive because trauma DOES THAT to people, yeah is incredibly realistic she went back. Its incredibly well written and agonizing to see.

After this, the party does convince her to leave again, but not before you are forced to fight her in one of the most emotionally painful boss fights in the series.

Key to convincing her to finally leave him is KOS-MOS, who all this time Shion was treating as a person until she became one. KOS-MOS and this other guy named Allen whos sort of her love interest but they never get together on screen give a dramatic speech and she decides that its time to give up on Kevin because her friends wont give up on her.

So we get to loop this back around to her job again! Yes- her being in STEM caused KOS-MOS to exist which saved the world and also her. Her being in STEM and good at it caused Allen to meet her and gain a big fat crush on her that Also saves the world despite him never actually being in the party (thats the power of a workwife!). Science wins!

All of this is also ignoring the actual batshit plot of xenosaga btw, which is a space opera that involves multiple bible figures, psudeo-time travel, the fact that the internet is built on everyones collective subconscious and you can therefore literally hack into someone's brain, a political faction clusterfuck, an immortal evil guy voiced by Crispin Freeman, and eldritch abomination god (who is trapped in what amounts to an infinite battery) trying to cause the apocalypse because a little girl begged for help.

Listen I know xenosaga isnt popular on here so she is probably gonna have a hard time, but that me blorbo she means a lot to me."

"super smart and pretty, loves her job and made a whole sentient humanoid robot, is an accurate representation of a mentally ill woman. play Xenosaga"

"Space lesbian. Made an android that's the reincarnation of her wife from a lifetime ago (who happens to be Mary Magdalene don't worry about that part). Trans gender."

"She's so mentally ill and loves her robot creation"

"She literally took the project her dead boyfriend was working on, which was a cyborg KOS-MOS, and managed to create a version where KOS-MOS doesn't go berserk and murder and slay. She is also captain of VECTOR. Robotics/cyborgs are her special interest. We stan a girlboss. shes gay af"

"She built her robot girlfriend and managed to creat a version of her where she doesn’t kill innocent people"

"Gay for the robotic war machine she created <3 Girlboss, sad-girl, mad scientist, mecha pilot. She really has it all."

"She made a billion dollar government funded battle android into her wife, with the help of lesbian space destiny of course. She’s simply #nyasome"

"She built herself a robot girlfriend and also her and the gf are reincarnated versions of mary magdelene and her fellower. Thanks!"

"She's autistic, traumatized and made her own girlfriend, "

"She’s the chief of an android development project AND she has a special interest in providing psychological support for artificial humans! She likes women your honor"

"Helped to create anandroid named Kos-Mos who would save the universe. Was the Head and Chief Engineer of the KOS-MOS Project and lead a small group of people to help fine tune Kos-Mos. Also she's just super cool and overcomes any obstacles she may face, despite all the trauma she's been put through. Shion is great and I love her."

"She is a mentally ill legend, she will stay up past midnight programming and working on her android gf instead of going to therapy, and I just think that's really sexy and cool of her. She's the best xeno game protagonist and I will fight on this"

"made a battle robot mary magdalene. fell in love with robot mary. is a reincarnation of a girly who was in love with the OG mary thousands of years ago. whenever robot mary acts like a robot she freaks out. almost dies to get robot mary functioning at 100% several times"

"Shion joined the huge corporate conglomerate Vector Industries when she was just 18 and became head of the KOS-MOS project (her girlfriend battle android) at age 22. Shion’s character growth throughout the series is amazing as she has to deal with her childhood trauma, facing her abuser, and moving on from the past by making steps towards the future. At the end of Episode III Shion finally stops being passively strung along the plot and begins to take steps on her own, embodying the themes of making your own ripples and seizing the future. Also Shion is very gay and is the wife of Mary Magdalene. Not kidding! LESBIAN SHION THE WORLD SHION/KOS-MOS NUMERO UNO CAMPÃO DO MUNDO

"She is the best woman in STEM because she is a very deep character who has an amazingly hard hitting story. She has realistically written PTSD, and is heavily implied to have BPD as well. She shows some very ugly symptoms, and even goes through no character development in the first third of the series which shows how deeply depressed and hurt she is. However, in episode II she begins to show signs of healing. Episode III absolutely goes haywire with her recovery process. She has many ups and downs, and even turns to her abuser, but in the end she overcomes him with the help of her friends AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, her android wife that she made with her own two hands.

So like. Robot wife. Awesome. But what if this robot wife was someone you deeply loved and looked up to in your previous life? So much so that you were called her Maiden. What if you died in her arms? And then, completely unbeknownst to you, after 6000 years, she reincarnated as an android that you programmed. How crazy would that be...

KOS-MOS (the android), starts off as your typical robot without emotions. But as time goes on, she grows more and more warm. And it's all thanks to Shion.

They embrace a ton of times, with KOS-MOS even bridal carrying Shion multiple times AND riding with her in her space motorcycle. Shion is also awesome because she's Japanese and hell yeah she's not White Woman Number 4050. Win.

Um. Also she eventually rebuilt her android's frame and gave her bigger boobs. HAPPY PRIDE.

timestamp 3:30 to end of the video, witness some lesbians :) hope you enjoy if you choose to watch https://youtu.be/eY6kPp-wcKg?t=210"

Jadzia Dax:

"She does a lot of science in space — like xenobiology and physics — but is also the ranking science officer, so she covers a lot of fields. she is an expert in many scientific fields, leads a lot of other scientists, and is a badass starfleet officer who can f you UP in a fight. her alien species is a symbiotic set of species, so Jadzia’s got a worm named Dax in her and has access to all of Dax’s past hosts’ memories & knowledge, part of why she’s an expert in so many fields! but Jadzia, the host, also got multiple degrees in different fields before she was “joined” with her symbiote."

"She is a star trek science officer, so mostly space anomalies and stuff 😄 She is self assured and takes up space and just a joy to watch. All the bi girls love her 💜"

"First F/F kiss on TV"

"IMMORTAL WORM ALIEN WOMAN who has lived EIGHT LIVES and is GENDERFLUID but is CURRENTLY A WOMAN! She's great"

"She is the lead science officer on her space station! Got four degrees in astrophysics, exoarchaeology, exobiology and zoology. She is an amazing researcher! Jadzia is a Joined Trill, host to the Dax symbiont which has lived 300 years. Jadzia became a Starfleet officer and pursued her science studies before then becoming Joined, which means she also has the wealth of knowledge from Dax's multiple lives. She is an amazing scientist and also loves to have fun, and she's a genderfluid pansexual ICON."

#stem sister scuffle #round 1 #shion uzuki #xenosaga #jadzia dax #ds9 jadzia #star trek ds9

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yourlocalartsonist · 8 months

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ROTTMNT Moths Fly In Packs - Chapter Eight

A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OH MY GOD. I genuinely didn’t expect it to, chapter 8 was supposed to be way shorter but uh yk my brain didn’t like that apparatnly. So now it’s uh 10K words. I think it’s genuinely worth the wait and read tho so hey, alls well that ends well or something. I’m gonna try to be faster with updates now. I’m FAIRLY CERTAIN chapter nine will be much shorter or at least nothing crazy like 8 or 10k. But what I can guarantee is chapters 10-13 will most definitely be short and lead up to the grand arc finale of chapter 14. We’re getting pretty close to it and I’m literally vibrating from excitement but no spoilers. Anyway enjoy the chapter! :D

Credit to: @sweaterrat @sleepdeprivedbagels and @yosajaeofficial for being my beloved beta readers! This story wouldn’t be able to have the quality it does without them so please give them some love and check out their ROTTMNT stories too!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Chapter One

Disclaimer: Chapter involves depressive thoughts, mentions of bullying, depressed behavior, mentions of Kr*ng, PTSD behavior, violence, very lightly graphic description of injuries, blood, and curse words. If you’re sensitive to that stuff, scroll past and stay safe!

Outside the window, you can make out a bird’s nest sat in one of the trees. It’s been here for a week now, perfectly timed with when I got back to a consistent school life. But lately, the mother’s been staying at the nest more often. I’m guessing they’ve got babies on the way, she’s probably incubating her eggs right now. I think I’ve gotten attached to them, that small family of robins. The parents are so dedicated, aren’t they? The mother especially, never leaving the nest unless absolutely necessary.

On the contrary to my peaceful view, the classroom is noisy, hectic, and cluttered. No real science work for today so everyone’s just doing their own thing. Very loudly. Jaiden and Zane are chatting and laughing with each other next to me. I think things are better between us, I still don’t really know where Jaiden and I stand right now but at least Zane seems fine with me. Though I won’t lie, I’ve been feeling more and more like a third wheel around them.

“Dude! I’m telling you, we have to play this game together! We’d have so much fun!”

“I already said I would, Jaiden! Man, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh like this. Shame you’re letting such a pretty smile go to waste.”

“Yeah? Let’s hang out more often then and maybe I won’t do that.”

Like right now.

Lowkey, I’ve been feeling invisible around those two. Jaiden barely pays any attention to me, it’s as if Zane was their best friend instead of me! I mean, I know friends can drift apart, I definitely know. But still, I never imagined it would happen to us. I still don’t wanna believe that’s what’s happening. I wanna keep hope.

“And ironically, you’re being pretty quiet today, Salena. Did you two switch personalities or something?”

“You are weirdly quiet, actually. What’s up?”

Oh lookie, I’ve been acknowledged. “Nah, you guys don’t have to worry about me. Just lower on energy than usual.”

I went back to my routine of staring out the window like the main character in a music video. In the reflection, Zane was still watching me. With the way his eyes lingered, I had a feeling he’s not falling for my excuse.

Seems like Jaiden’s not too worried, though. “Oh, Zane! You wanna hear about this new skate park I found?” Just went right back at it with Zane. Who’s weirdly still staring at me.

“…Actually, I’m kinda hungry. Jaiden, you mind getting me a snack from the vending machine?”

“Huh? But I wouldn’t know what to get you. N-not that I don’t pay attention to what you like! But, you know… Salena has better taste in these things! She should go-”

“She always goes.”

“‘Cause she knows what she’s doing.”

“Jaiden.”

“Guys, it’s fine! It’s fine. I’ve got this.” I didn’t want them to fight again so I got up from my seat. “Be back soon.”

Jaiden gave me their most gleeful smile I’ve seen them make in a while. I think seeing them smile makes this gesture worthwhile. Even if it’s just for a little bit.

The walk to the vending machine shouldn’t have been long, it’s not super far away. But my legs dragged on forcing each step to be slower than the last. I feel guilty thinking like this but a part of me wants this dumb walk to go on forever. I can’t stand being near them and I don’t know why! It’s not like we’ve got bad blood, they’ve both been normal towards me since I came back. So why am I acting like this? I’m seriously starting to doubt Splinter’s theory of me not being the problem here…

I approached the machine, stopping as I heard a struggling voice in front of me.

“Argh! How’d she say these things worked again?”

His finger pressed against the glass, tracing the code for the snack he wanted. He tapped the buttons on the screen. Nothing happened. Scratching his head, he leaned forward to read the next instructions. Finally, he pulled out a dollar bill.

…Before proceeding to insert it in the wrong way. And taking it out. And inserting it back in. And repeating the process. I can feel my soul exiting my body from second-hand embarrassment.

I recognized the fluffy black hair. With a crooked smile, I pulled out my own wallet.

“You’re supposed to put it in this way.” I slid my bill into the slot, the granola bar he selected successfully being pushed down soon after. “Good to see you again.”

“Woah, cool!” He stared at the giant food box almost with a childlike wonder, pausing for a few minutes before turning to me. “And hey! Yeah, it’s really nice seeing you again, too.” His eyes remained locked for a while before he scrambled to hand me the bill he had. “Here! Let me pay you back-“

“No, no, no, don’t worry about it! Really! Consider it my apology for, um, last time.”

“Apology? I mean, you weren’t the one doing anything weird so I don’t think you’ve gotta apologize.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Casey Jones Jr. I was gonna introduce myself the first time we met but, you know.”

“Salena Moni! So, how’s everything holding up? You joined pretty late in the year so if you need any help reviewing stuff I’m more than happy to.”

“Oh, don’t worry! It’s actually going alright. Still technically my first time going to a real school, so it’s a little bit of a challenge but I already knew most of the material anyways. I didn’t have to catch up on much.”

“Wow, that is… remarkably impressive.” If only I handled transferring as well as this guy. “Wait, hold up, real school? Were you homeschooled?”

“You could… say that. My uncle taught me everything, he was the smartest person I knew! Just turns out it was literally everything.”

“Cool! I guess we can check grades off the box, then! So, is everyone being nice? Made any friends?”

I bit my lip as I received my answer in the form of his face freezing mid-speech. “W-well uh…”

Oh, you poor thing…

I guess he could read my face since he immediately tried reassuring me, as if he wasn��t the victim in this scenario. “I-I mean it’s not awful! A couple people were nice to me, including you! Sure, some are a little… hostile. But it’ll get better eventually.”

“Y-yeah! It definitely… definitely will.”

And cue the classic awkward silence that stars in any first conversation. A little overdue for this one now that I’m thinking about it.

I’m so conflicted. I know damn well he’s not gonna have the high school dream he’s probably imagining right now. No one does. I may not have been at this school for long, but I’ve been here long enough to know how the people are. April told me it gets even worse every year as cliques start getting established and people grow past the initial politeness. I’m glad she did, she never kept anything about high school from me no matter how bad it was. Nothing was in my control but at least I knew it was coming.

And here I am playing the exact opposite role for Casey. I hate giving people false hope, I hate it with a passion! But I’m supposed to, I think. In a situation like this I’m supposed to hype him up. Ignorance is bliss! Wouldn’t it just ruin his spirits if I broke the glass?

“Anyway, it was nice to meet you! I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Y-yep! Hope things get better for you soon!”

“Me too.”

Ugh, the guilt is eating me up! I’m acting like I’ve never told a lie in my life but it’s not that. It’s his pure mindset that’s completely fucking with my morality!

I know to keep my mouth shut, I do. I don’t want him to hate me like everyone else does. I haven’t met someone who’s been so nice to me in this stupid ass school before, I don’t want to ruin this chance now that I finally got it. Plus, he might not even believe me…

I watched him turn to walk away.

Fuck it, social norms are for losers!

“W-wait! Casey?” He turned back around and I nearly shit myself from fear. “So, don’t be mad but I may have um… lied about something?”

“Uh, sorry?”

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “Well, here’s the deal. Things aren’t really gonna get better, sorry. Or, actually! I don’t mean that extremely literally, I guess...”

Focus on your hands, it’ll be okay. “Just… People here are mean. Really, really mean. You’re homeschooled, you’re new, and you’re nice. It’s a recipe for disaster here whether it’s today or even a year after you’ve settled in!”

I can’t even read his expression and get an idea of his reaction. He’s got a scary good poker face, I’m curious which relative taught him that one.

“Casey, please don’t take this the wrong way. I-I’m not saying any of it is your fault! Or that you need to change or do anything. I’m only saying this so you don’t have any… unrealistic expectations so to speak.”

God, his silence is more terrifying than anticipated.

So much so I couldn’t help letting out a quiet breath of relief when he finally did speak. “You know, you’re the first person here who’s told me that.”

“…Is that bad?”

“Not at all. All my family, they never got the chance to go to school. Hell, I didn’t think I’d have the opportunity. But here I am! First time in a new building with weird people and absolutely no clue what to expect. I’m usually good with surprises but this one is just so… different. Different is scary, you know?”

I nodded. I most definitely did know.

“Anyway, you’re right that people are just mean here. I don’t even know why, I mean, I’ve met my fair share of dicks before but at least they had good reasons! We were under so much stress… But that’s not what I hate. It’s the fact that any time I tell an adult, they say the same thing over and over again!”

“Let me guess.” I cleared my throat and enhanced the performance with my intoxicated Mrs. Doubtfire voice. “Just ignore them and give it time and it’ll magically fix itself ‘cause boredom beats bullies or some shit, right?”

“Yeah, exactly!” His laugh is like holding your parent’s hand when you’re getting the flu shot, it’s magical! “They say that to everyone, don’t they? God, what’s up with that? I’m so not used to adults lying to me.”

“Dude, what? You’re kidding, your whole community’s gotta be amazing if you’ve never been lied to by an adult.”

“Eh, more or less… Anyway, um, thank you. For telling me the truth. And the granola bar. I seriously owe you for this.”

…I take it back, Splinter might’ve actually been onto something.

I mean, he’s a little strange, I won’t lie about that. This is the first time I’ve heard someone actually be grateful for me telling the truth. In the past it either got me isolated or in huge trouble, depending on who I was honest with. Maybe this is why I’m so used to lying. I hate it but I’ve had to do it so much. I’ve never met someone who finally lets me relax about it, not until Casey Jr it seems.

Maybe he deserves me being a little braver for a change.

“Well, here’s a way you can repay me. By us being friends!”

…

This was a lot more epic in my head without his speechless pause. Maybe I got the vibe wrong-

“REALLY!? OMIGOSH! That would be so cool! I’ve literally been thinking about asking you the same thing ‘cause I keep wanting to talk to you but never run into you but now we can talk whenever we want, IT’LL BE GREAT!!!” Spoke too soon, he is literally shaking me by the shoulders. It feels unnatural not being on the other side of this scenario.

“Casey, my stomach doesn’t approve of this-“

“Sorry, sorry!” He finally stopped and allowed me to remember the pleasant feeling of absolute stillness. “I just can’t believe you actually wanna be friends with me!”

Still, his surprising enthusiasm gave me a good laugh. “Dude, it’s alright! It’s kinda more surprising you wanna be friends with me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met in my entire life, anyone who’s friends with you is lucky to have you!”

Lucky to have me?

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, unexpected compliments go burn in a fire but also don’t leave, it actually feels really nice.

“Salena, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no, I mean, all I did was buy you a snack and tell you people are jerks. I’m not too sure I should be receiving the title of the ‘kindest person you’ve ever met’ and stuff.”

“O-oh yeah, you have a point.” He got a little flustered at that, despite it really being my fault for not being able to take compliments. “I don’t know, I mean, I still think you’re really cool. I’m just so happy you wanna be friends with me!”

He looked like a child on Christmas morning as I tippy-tapped my number into his phone. Come to think of it, I know I’ve definitely reacted excitedly towards certain people - or turtles, I should say - but having someone do it to me? Feels kinda nice.

I looked up at the clock. “Shit. We should probably head back to class before we get in trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. But hey,” his eyes closed as the corners delightfully wrinkled “it was great running into you again! Fate really wants us to be friends.”

He has a really nice smile.

“Funny how life works, ay?”

I skipped my way back to class, mind too deep in thought to realize how fast I went.

This guy, Casey Jones, he’s giving me certain vibes. I don’t mean the creepy, stalkerish, "I need to get the hell outta here” vibes. More like deja-vu. I can’t pin what exactly, but something about him feels so… foreign yet familiar. Homey, if you may. Like a nice, warm fire in mid-winter night. It’s really soothing.

And immediately I’m thrown into emotional whiplash as I went back inside the annoying ass classroom of teenage chaos. So much for soothing vibes. I plopped back in my desk as Zane slowly scanned me.

“You took a while. Did you get my snack?…”

…Fuck. “Sorry! I completely forgot!”

“How did you forget when it’s the literal reason you even left?” Jaiden doesn’t seem as chipper as before.

“I know, I’m so sorry. I got a bit distracted. Gimmie a sec, I’ll be right back-”

“No, wait! It’s fine, I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Really? Okay, suit yourself.” I shrugged, getting settled in again. He leaned closer to me, both confused and concerned.

“You seem happier right now. Did something good happen?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess! Just ran into a new friend.”

His face scrunched up, going back to chatting with Jaiden. I have no clue why he glared when I said that, I don’t think I said anything wrong or alarming. Honestly, bro has worse mood swings than I do. It's seriously annoying sometimes but whatever, they’ve gone back to their little bubble now so I shall go back to mine.

I pulled out my phone, greeted with Casey’s excited text already.

CJ: Hey! Not really doing anything in class so if you’re free too, text me back :D

Smiling, I let myself get engrossed in my phone, happily typing away. He’s a fun guy to talk to. His enthusiasm and bubbliness is a little surprising considering how borderline timid he seemed at first. Goes to show, never judge a book by its cover! I felt my mood lifting, less gloomier than before.

Until I remembered something he said.

“My uncle taught me everything, he was the smartest person I knew!”

Was?...

***

Ah, midnight. A time when the mentally sane and emotionally stable would be sleeping. Turns out I’m neither of those folks, I’ve got better things to do. I have weapons now but I’ve gotta actually practice using them if I don’t wanna render them useless. Besides, in bed or out here, I’m not falling asleep either way. At least this serves as a good distraction! And won’t give me a headache like my phone will.

The blades cut through the air as I twirled them, striking at an imaginary enemy soon after.

I try not to think about life when I’m training, it distracts me too much. Sometimes I feel like Casey’s the only thing making school bearable anymore. We don’t share any classes so we text more than talk but I don’t have to do any mental gymnastics to figure out how he views me. I’m still confused as hell if Jaiden likes me or hates me and have no damn clue what Zane’s deal is anymore. He keeps staring at me. More than usual. Sure, I could always sit there and ponder for hours on end what the fuck is going on, but I doubt even that’d get any results.

The sickles, however, do show results. They feel lighter, smoother, easier to duel. I’m getting faster with them and my arms don’t feel as broken after training anymore! It’s something I can lose myself in, track the improvement. It’s so much simpler than everything else.

It keeps my mind occupied. If I focus on them, I don’t think about anyone from school or anything bad that’s happening! Or at least, I usually don't. I guess I’m thinking about it now, though…

“Someone’s training hard.”

“AHH!!!”

Immediately I jerked to turn and held up a blade in defense. However, it turned out to be a false alarm as instead of some midnight mugger I expected to see, I’m greeted with a smirking blue idiot standing in front of me.

“Woah, hey! I come in peace!” The stupid bitch held his hands up, mocking me with his fake fear. “Been a while, huh?”

“Leo? Oh god, you scared me! Where did you even come from?”

“The better question would be: Where did you disappear to? We haven’t gone out in like a week! You kept leaving me on read when I texted you but seemed fine in the group chat. What gives?”

“…I forgor?”

“Really?” I could tell he wasn’t satisfied by my answer. “You just forgot to respond to me? Every single time?”

“W-well sorta. I mean, it’s nothing you did so please don’t take it personally! It’s with everyone. I’ve just been a little bad at responding to dms…” My social battery’s been so low lately I question if it’s even charged at all. “That’s entirely on me, though! I’m so sorry.”

He crossed his arms and looked me up and down. He’s doing that nonchalant poker face again, the one he does when he doesn’t wanna be read, otherwise he’s an open book.

“You know you can tell me if something’s up, right?”

I guess he also does that face when he’s trying to read someone else. “Yeah, I know. I’m alright. It’s just… I dunno, things are a little weird but it’s fine. It’s really nothing to worry about.”

He hummed in response. I don’t really think he bought it but his eyes eventually drifted to my weapons, dropping the topic regardless. He must not wanna push it.

“Sooo, sick weapons! Where’d you get ‘em?”

“Oh, these? Draxum gave them to me!”

He gagged, interrupting me. “You met Draxum? The sheep guy? Oh, poor you! Was he awful to deal with? I bet he was! You know, like always.”

“Oh come on, he wasn’t that bad! A little grouchy at first but in his defense, I caught him in the middle of his shift, so.”

“Please, sheep bitch doesn’t need a reason to be a jerk! He’s just an old cranky loser who spends his days yelling at kids and smuggling whatever mystic bullshit of the week he found from the Hidden City! It’s giving Oscar the Grouch, just missing the lemon. Oh wait, that’s ‘cause unlike Oscar, he doesn’t even have one single thing that makes him uncharacteristically happy!”

“Wow, angry aren’t we?” It’s rude to laugh, but I can’t help myself around this dork. He looks like a kid who got denied an Xbox when he crosses his arms like that. “Leo, be real. This is because he threw you off a roof, isn’t it?”

“You know!? I mean-“ He laughed, trying to hide his poorly made lie. “What? Of course not… Maybe just a little but that’s not important.”

Leo grumbled on with some incoherent noises for a minute, before cooling down and moving on from the “sheep bitch”.

“Ugh, well anyway, if you got it from that moron, they’re definitely mystic or something, right?”

“Oh, absolutely! They’re actually super cool, I mean-“ For a good five minutes I kept blabbering on and on about the sickles and how they function and all my progress that I didn’t notice Leo - bless his heart - trying and horrifically failing to pay attention. He doesn’t really hide it well when he spaces out.

“And they- Uh, Leo, you good?”

“…Would you be mad if I said I got like, none of that?”

I sighed but gave a gentle smile. I knew he had a short attention span so I can’t really act like it’s his fault I forgot about that.

“Actually, do you want me to just like… act it out instead? I think I’ve gotten pretty good at using these so I don’t mind showing instead of telling!”

He shrugged “Nothin’s stopping you. Go on, impress me!”

Well, nothing except my nerves. But hey, it’s just Leo. If I mess up, he’ll laugh with me a bit and then I’ll just retry. No real pressure around him. I could use a progress check right now, anyway.

“Aight, so we only know two out of who knows how many powers for these things, they’re the only two I’ve been practicing. First up!”

I spun them around, careful to not mess up my handling. My goal is to form blades strong enough to crack a dent through the concrete edge of this building. So the sickles need to be made out of metal or steel. I usually go with metal but I do actually wanna impress him and steel’s stronger. I aimed at the edge and swung my arm forward, the sickle shot through the air and sliced through the concrete like a knife to a cake.

“OH SHIT!”

“I got it!” He teleported to catch the flying solo sickle and came right back within a matter of seconds. Oh, what I’d give to experience never having to walk again.

“Sorry about that! They’ve never broken the edge like that before!”

“Sorry!? You’re not allowed to be sorry, that was so cool! It went clean through!” I’ve never seen him gush about something this way. I’ve gotta admit, it’s kind of adorable. “Okay, I’m hooked! What’s the other thing it can do?”

“Invisibility! But I can’t do it for long, at least not yet. I made progress, though! Went from only three seconds to five!”

“Wait, actually, back up a bit. I get that Baron Ass told you how the sickles work and blah blah blah, but how’d you learn how to fight with ‘em? Ya know, the non-mystic aspects.”

“Oh, YouTube tutorials at first. But honestly, sickle fighting is mid so I did a lot of improv, really.”

He chuckled and eventually lost to his giggles as if me saying that wasn’t completely justified. “Did you just call an ancient form of martial arts mid?”

“Stop judging me, I’m right! Sickles were improvised weapons. They’re good for the last resort, not the first choice!”

“I’m not judging, I’m not judging! Promise! I respect it, even!” He leaned against the roof’s edge, gradually collecting himself. “But if they’re that bad, why didn’t you ask for a different weapon? One that’s cooler and not ‘the last resort’?”

Oh boy, where to begin?

I then explained how I essentially found myself wrapped in some “chosen one” bullshit through the sickles. They still don’t work any time Barry touches them but are perfectly fine in my hands. It’d be pretty dumb to pass up these weapons for a different one, even if sickles aren’t the coolest thing to own. Although, he’s definitely acting like they are judging by how intensely his eyes are staring at them. They’re sparkling brighter than I thought eyes realistically could.

“Well, now I’m offended! Mystic mystery sickles that do all kinds of glowy stuff for you specifically? How could you not tell me about these sooner!? They’re so amazing!”

“I know, I’m real sorry, Leon.” He’s joking around, his tone’s too light to be mad. But I do still feel bad for accidentally ignoring him like that. “Anything I can do for you as an apology?”

“Well…” His smirk revealed that thing was the main reason he came here in the first place. “We could make up for the lost time and go on a run together tonight. It is a weekend so you’d still have tomorrow and the day after to rest up. But hey, that’s just an idea…”

It's Friday again. Just like the first time we did this.

He held out his hand as an offer and I took it with a grin. “You make a convincing argument.”

And off we went, dashing through the night. It’s a bit humid today so the wind from sprinting so fast is greatly appreciated. Not to mention my speed is so much better than before!

The daily restrictions of civil life can go suck my dick and feed my liver to their uncles ‘cause oh my god nothing beats this feeling! No one else is here, no one who could stop us! Sure, jumping off roofs isn’t the safest way to have fun, but everything else in my life is already so safe! I’m allowed to have this one thing, this one moment to be free.

I’m so distracted that I didn’t realize I’m actually giving Leo a run for his money this time! Hehe, run. God, I’m so funny.

“Looks like you can actually keep up with me now!”

“I know, right!? It feels fucking amazing!”

Judging from his mischievous ass face, I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut. “I don’t mean to burst your bubble but…”

A blue light appeared as a hole ripped in the sky and the lovely piece of shit went right through, appearing again somewhere way ahead of me. “I’m still faster!~”

“Hey! No portals allowed!”

“Uh, last time I checked, portalling is totally allowed.”

“Says who!?”

“Says me and I’m leader! Whatever leader says goes!”

To add insult to injury, he doesn’t just portal himself. As I’m trying to catch up to him mid-jump, the jackass opens a portal right under me, sending me back even further than I already was with no time to recover.

“Leo, you cheat!”

Bro’s giggling his ass off as he blinked in and out of sight. I’m no different with how sore my face is, so I can’t even pretend to be mad.

Instead, all I can do is try my best to speed up and catch up, plotting my revenge in the meantime. Easier said than done, that dude’s faster than the Flash right now since he’s, ya know, portalling. Doesn’t help that he keeps appearing right next to me every few minutes just to taunt me and disappear again.

A few minutes into our little cat and mouse game though, I lost track of him and he hadn’t shown up in a while to pester me. So, I started calling out his name, trying to look for him. You’d think it’d be easier to find a 5’5” giant, green turtle man but I guess they wouldn’t be ninjas if that were the case.

“Leo? Leo!? Le- Huh?”

I finally found him. But instead of the shit-eating grin he gave me earlier, he’s silent and still behind the edge of a roof, his back facing me. It’s starting to freak me out a little, he looks like he’s going fucking Blair Witch mode. No words, no witty remarks, nothing. Just ghostly staring at whatever the view is. Only thing I can see from here is a museum.

“Hey, Leon, you okay?”

“Shh!”

With his eyes still fixed up ahead, Leo took my hand and guided me forward. He eventually looked at me and nodded towards the street below us. Gazing in that direction, I saw a large purple truck with the logo of that one weird shoe store I browsed a few years ago. From what I’ve gathered these past few weeks, big trucks mean bad news.

But maybe that’s not what I should be focused on. Standing near the truck were two people, their skin an unnatural shade of purple. One’s large and brutish, the other tall and slender. They’ve got foot marks on their faces and flames on their bald heads. Exactly how Mikey described…

“The Foot Clan.”

He nodded. “I don’t understand, those guys were all turned into Krang during the invasion.”

Sorry, what? “You’re sure it was those two specifically? I haven’t heard about any cures or vaccines for the Krang victims on the news. It’d make headlines if there were.” I haven’t heard anything about them for a while now that I think about it.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He leaned closer to the edge, as close as he could get without getting caught. “They’re parked a street away from a museum, the hell are they up to now?”

I mimicked his actions, trying to hear the Foot people better. The slender one’s on the phone, sounding frustrated. He’s doing that whisper-yelling thing people do when they wanna be mad quietly to avoid societal shame.

“Yeesh, someone’s having a bad day.”

“You can hear them?” Why does he look so confused?

“Yeah, can’t you?”

Leo shook his head. “Whatever, what are they saying?”

I cocked my head to the side, spying in on their conversation.

His voice is scratchy, a little sore on my ears. “What do you mean you can’t get it off? Just bring the whole thing and hurry! We can’t risk alerting anyone!” Neither of us can tell what he’s referring to, unfortunately. The Foot dude avoids naming it.

I looked back at Leo scanning around for any clues. He stared at the back of the museum for a minute before his eyes widened. “I know where we are. It’s the Historical Society Museum. Donnie mentioned wanting to come here once.”

“I think I’ve heard of it. Isn’t there a lot of ancient stuff in there? Like, from centuries back?”

Nodded again. He’s being unnervingly quiet, considering it’s Leo. He stared at the clan, then at the museum, then back at the clan. He looked… scared. Scared in a way I’ve never seen him before. I felt my hand being subconsciously squeezed. I didn’t even notice he hadn’t let go in the first place.

…I have to help him.

I readied myself for whatever his idea was, no matter how outlandish or risky it may seem. “Alrighty, what’s the plan?”

“Right.” He hesitated, before gripping his katanas and turning back. “…The plan is for me to portal you home, kick some Foot ass, and pick you up so we can continue our run.”

WHAT!?

“What do you mean ‘portal me home!? I’m not leaving!” I was prepared for anything, but this!? “We just stumbled across the Foot Clan who are for some reason not freaky alien zombies and messing with ancient artifacts that do who knows what!”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m sending you home before your adrenaline junkie ass can do something stupid.”

“And what makes you think I’d do that!?”

He held up my scarred left arm and stared at me unimpressed.

“…Okay, that’s a low blow even for you.”

Though as much as I hate to admit it, he kind of has a point. I sighed. “Alright, tell me. If I leave, will you at least call your brothers to help you out?”

“Yes!”

“Leo.”

“Fine, I lied.” The steel fucking balls of- “But still! I’ll be okay! I’ve gone against them plenty of times before.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re invincible!”

Before I could say anything more, I heard the sound of a truck starting up. I looked down and Leo followed my line of sight to see the Foot getting ready to drive.

Shit, they’re getting away!

“Okay, okay! Listen, I promise, I promise I won’t run off on my own and do something dumb this time. Anything the leader says goes! Just please let me join!” I can’t leave him alone!

I could sense him debating on what to do. His eyes look so conflicted, there’s definitely more than what he’s telling me. Nevertheless, I’m not budging. I don’t wanna sit at home being useless and worry the entire time.

He took a deep breath in, and let out a loud sigh. He looked at me with a defeated smile. “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”

“Nope.”

“Alright, fine, but you’re sticking close.”

Before I could celebrate too much, I felt the ground beneath me disappear into bright blue light. Not anything sudden, more gentle really. Even then, I felt disoriented with my feet going from firmly grounded to touching the air! Not to mention how light my whole body felt. Gravity did a complete 180 and I got flipped around, landing under the truck.

I nearly lost my grip but a hand on my back kept me in place long enough for me to recollect myself. Leo portalled us here.Well, obviously he did, it just caught me off guard again. It’s not really too bad going through his portals but it sure is a fucking trip when it’s unexpected. Either way, it got the job done.

They drove for quite a damn while. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience having to cling on to the bottom of a moving truck as the only scents to breathe in were that of oil and gasoline, but we probably looked super cool! My ears disagreed but oh well. They parked in front of a mall this time. Not just any mall, the fucking World Trade Center! We’re literally on the other side of the city, what on Earth could they need here?

I wanted to follow them in but Leo was against it. He said it’d be safer for us to spy from a distance for now so we went to the roof of a neighboring building, looking in at them. The Foot are on one of the higher floors, almost seeming like they’re scavenging for something.

Leo’s trying to figure out another way in for us. I still don’t understand why we didn’t just follow them. I know Leo’s not a total reckless nutcase or anything, but being this cautious felt a little unlike him.

“Hey, look, I don’t mean to shoot your own words back at you or anything. But you know you can tell me if something’s up, right?”

For a split second, he looked different. His eyes were dead, his lips shut and neutral. He stared at me but he looked so… lost. Empty.

And then his smile returned, face back to normal. Or at least what he convinced me was normal. I’m not so sure anymore. He flicked my forehead again. Even softer than the first time he did it. “Stop worrying so much! You’re gonna give yourself a chasm worse than Raph’s.”

I didn’t know how to take it from there. So I just watched him.

He eventually decided on portalling us into the building’s vent system. It’s a little cramped but was the only place we can eavesdrop without being immediately spotted. Though honestly, I don’t mind this one bit! I’m controlling the impulsive adrenaline ,however, he didn’t say shit about internal adrenaline! I can’t help it if stealth makes me giddy!

“Hehe! It’s like we’re in a movie!”

“Love your enthusiasm as always but remember to not get too caught up in it.”

I momentarily shoved my excitement to the side as we both tried listening in on the Foot Clan. The skinny dude, who I now know to be the Lieutenant, is barking orders at the rest of the soldiers scouting around while talking to the giant Brute.

“You disabled the cameras, correct? You know we can’t make it any harder for them!”

“Of course I did, it’s a no-brainer! Why’d ya have to ask it like that?” Woah, villain or not, his New Yorker accent is one to admire! “You know, sometimes I feel like you think I’m just stupid and nothin’ more.”

“Oh, don’t start now. Focus on finding good metal. The sooner we finish this the better.”

Hearing his raspy voice makes my own throat itch a little. I lightly clawed at it, trying to not make too much noise as I moved.

I leaned a little closer to Leo “What do you think they need metal for?”

“Not sure. Could be to make more soldiers or something? It’d be a cool upgrade from their paper soldiers.”

Leo’s tone seems a little lighter than before, I’m glad to hear him joke around again. “They could make paper soldiers?”

“Yeah! And they’re completely sentient, one of them even became besties with Raph! Anyway,” he pointed down at a handful of soldiers collecting metal artifacts “they’re probably trying to make those origami soldiers again with something stronger.”

“But how would you fold metal?”

“Beats me, Mikey would know more on this. He’s figuring out how to recreate whatever spell they used so we could get some help with patrolling. Word of advice though, salami origami does not work as a substitute.”

“No shit. Who’s bright idea was that?”

“...You don’t know him.” His guilty face says it all.

We were giggling a little too loudly, I suppose. One of the Foot dudes stopped and started listening for our voices again. He shrugged and moved on soon enough. I didn’t realize I was covering my mouth till I let myself breathe again.

“We should probably be a little quieter and take this stealth thing more seriously.”

I nodded in agreement. He’s not upset, honestly he’s struggling just as much as I am to choke down more giggles. It’s like we’re hiding under a blanket during a sleepover pretending we’re not awake in front of the parents and not in a likely life or death situation spying on the black-magic cult. I’m trying my best but it’s already hard enough to keep my adrenaline addiction in check and Leo being here makes it worse in the best ways possible.

Still, I don’t wanna know what happens if we get cau- What was that creaking sound?

CLANG!

It would seem those were not really sturdy vents.

You know that moment from the Ice Age sequel when the vultures surround the main cast with hungry, devilish eyes ready to feast on them at any given moment? Yeah, let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if the Foot Clan randomly bursts into song about “glorious food” full on broadway musical style.

“Uh… Hey, fellas! Long time no see, am I right?” Despite his demeanor, I caught the real reason he raised his hands. I reached back for mine as well.

A sheath of metal filled the air as Leo took his katanas out their case, perfectly timed with the Lieutenant’s new orders.

“GET THEM!”

“Run, hide first then get the stolen thingie if you can. I’ll keep ‘em busy!” Leo charged into the fight, holding them off to make sure they couldn’t get to me.

Unfortunately, there’s like a bajillion of them that can easily outnumber us. I’ve learned to be quite a slippery sprinter but even then two already managed to block my path.

Now would be a good time to turn invisible!

“Come on, come on!” I could barely get the sparks to even start spreading. Turns out stress is a huge fucking factor I neglected in my training.

I wouldn’t have minded if it just took a few seconds to work but the real issue was I couldn’t keep it working. I didn’t even really go invisible, just sorta flashed in and out of transparency for a few seconds! The only reason I haven’t gotten caught yet is ‘cause these two morons are too busy laughing at me.

“Is that really the best you can do!? Whoever you are, little girl, you’ve got your work cut out for you!”

“Oh no! She’s… she’s… blinking like an old flashlight!! We’re so scared!”

…BITC-

Resorted to traditional methods. I made the sickles the consistency of a metal pot and threw it at one of their heads, knocking them down. The other I kicked straight in the chest while they were distracted by their idiot teammate, also knocking them down. I’d love nothing more than to give some extra special attention to them but this old flashlight’s gotta run for the shadows while they’ve got an open chance.

A blue portal opened in front of me. “Hey Salena, so this fight’s a little more intense than I expected and I wanted to quickly check if you’re really sure about-”

“Leo, I’m fine! I’m not leaving mid-battle!”

“No, no, that’s fine! That’s great! Just a reminder there’s no shame in calling it- DUCK!”

Without hesitance, I dropped to the ground right as his sword swung above me to block one of the soldier’s attacks. Maybe I should let Leo handle this guy since I can’t really do much while laying on the floor. Then again, doesn't mean I can’t do anything. And also I don’t have good impulse control.

“OW!!! WHAT THE FUCK!?”

I bit on to his ankle as hard as I desired despite his pleading cries. I didn’t let go until Leo broke out of his shock and finally punched him unconscious. Fighting might actually be a really good way to get out my urges.

“Why-“

“Don’t. If it works, it works.”

I flashed a grin, got back on my feet, and bounced away. I need a better vantage point if I wanna find the stolen item, especially with the chaos over here. I quickly made my way up to the indoor balcony thingie. Terrance? The second floor? Whatever the fuck it is. I’ll have to admit, despite how absolutely pumped I’m feeling right now, it kinda feels nice getting away from the clusterfuck for a bit. I heard Leo still spamming all his dialogue options to keep the main two creeps occupied. Actually, I’m pretty sure I can see them from up here, too.

“So, you guys are looking great! Never thought I’d say this, but I am loving the old look making a return.” His hands did more tricks than usual, keeping his swords flowing like an intricate dance. There are multiple soldiers practically hounding him yet he’s fending them off almost gracefully.

“Can’t you stupid children stay out of our way for one night! There’s great evil being put on the hold right now for your antics!”

“Hey, speaking of evil, what’s with the normal amount of eyes? Not that I’m missing the other option but- GAH!”

And yet, even with Leo’s skilled moves, he’s struggling to keep up with the two leaders specifically. I deadass would’ve been slaughtered by now if I didn’t listen to him about hiding.

“We got some outside help. Now, stop askin’ annoying questions and maybe we’ll go easier on ya!” He swung his axe again, thankfully missing Leo.

I gotta wonder, from Mikey’s stories, they’ve fought the Foot Clan with ease several times in the past. Leo was doing fine just now, too. So why does it look like this could be his first time facing off the Lieutenant and Brute? Nobody’s perfect but I don’t think either of us expected him to lose his grace and become borderline clumsy against them.

Wait, no! Distractions! Leo can handle himself, I need to focus on my own task. Stolen thingie! But where the hell is it?

Just as I was about to think they left it in the truck like common sense would dictate, a soft, reflective red glow caught my eye. The moon was on my side tonight.

“There she is!”

Or maybe I was being too optimistic. In fairness, I should’ve known I couldn’t stay here for long.

It would be really fucking nice to turn invisible now. Sickles? No? Oh, okay, fuck me then I guess.

I hopped off the edge before they could reach me and slinked to the other side of the room, following the red gleam. Despite the sickles betraying me with horrific timing twice tonight, I got them to cover me long enough to reach the ruby ring the glow came from. The light bled past the folds of the drape covering their stolen prize. I lifted it to find a… weird mannequin bust? With arms. Decorated with several ornaments and jewelry including the ring. What the fuck are they using this for, a fashion show?

I flinched to the sound of a loud thud paired with Leo’s groan. Flipping my head behind me, I saw him cornered against a wall, swords shielding him from the Brute’s axes.

“Okay, either you two got a lot stronger or my body isn’t what it used to be.”

I gotta calm myself down, Leo’s a trained ninja and will likely be completely and totally fine! A tiny slip doesn’t mean inevitable doom!

…I hope.

I turned my attention back to the mannequin thing to mentally measure its size. I’m fairly certain it’ll fit inside my backpack, it’s not too big. Just gotta get it in now.

Another sound interrupted me. This time, it was loud metallic clanking off the floor. Leo’s katanas…

“On second thought, maybe it’s both.” His weapons were away from him, too far out of reach. His voice sounded weaker, arms wrapped around his torso.

Oh no.

Neither of them were holding back. As soon as he was down, they were practically hammering at him. His arms were up, defensively blocking his head. I’m supposed to stay away from this. I’m supposed to listen and focus on my task. But I can’t stop my body from turning when I see something like this happening.

He’s in the air now. I need to move. He’s being swung. I need to be faster.

“Let this be a lesson, turtle. Our battles have drastically changed.”

The window shattered from the force of his body.

“LEO!”

I don’t remember ever sprinting this fast, but I was out the window right after through the very hole he created. The height couldn’t scare me if it tried. My arm outstretched, I caught him with one hand and had my sickle in the other. Careful to not dare mess up my timing, it snatched onto a power line just as my blades turned to rubber, thick enough to not get us shocked from the voltage.

“N-nice… nice catch.”

“Thanks.” It’s harder to talk when I’m panting like a dog and trying to limit my shaking limbs.

His weight felt like it would rip my arms apart. I didn’t expect a giant muscular turtle to be light but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Still, some-fucking-how, I’m able to keep us both hanging from the wire, comprehending the fact that we’re not dead. Thank fuck for Raph forcing me to work out sessions.

“You, uh, you doing good up there? You’re breathing kinda heavily. Hey, heavily! Didn’t even mean to make that one!”

“Leo I will drop you.”

He convinced me to suffer a little longer and try to swing him, giving enough momentum for him to catch onto the side of the neighboring building. Then, I swung myself, Leo catching me to soften the landing. We scampered up to the roof, coincidentally the same one we were on a while ago.

“And literally back to square one. Fantastic.” He sighed, clearly annoyed by our failure. His attention quickly shifted once he noticed me rubbing my sore arms. “Hey, you okay? Want me to take a look at you?”

“Me? Take a look at yourself first, idiot!”

I’m not gonna pretend I’m not in pain, but it’s nothing close to the tragedies on his body currently. His arms are bruised and cut from the fight. One was actively bleeding with bits of glass still stuck in some places. Luckily it was the only fleshy place he took damage on, everything else was protected, albeit a little cracked.

“It’s… It’s fine. My shell took most of the hit, anyway.” This bitch. “Besides, I’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

Despite his condition, he started walking to the edge of the roof, heading back towards the WTC.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“To get my katanas back.”

“Oh, no, no, no, you are not going back in there! Can’t you just make new swords or something?”

“And help the foot by practically gifting them Hamato weapons?”

“You said they’re made from your magic! Shouldn’t that protect them from other people trying to use them?”

“I don’t know, we only learned about this ninpo stuff, like, last year! I don’t know enough to be sure nothing will happen if I leave them with the Foot. I’m not doing that.”

“Well, I can’t let you go back.” I stood in front of him to block his path. “We can figure something else out but you are not going back in there! Look at you, it’d be crazy!”

“I was crazy once-” My hand shut his stupid, smug mouth before he could complete the ritual.

“Leo, you were thrown out a window! You’re hurt!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! I’ve been through worse! I’m just gonna get my swords back, that’s all.” He put a hand on my shoulder and threw on a fake smile to comfort me. The blood is literally dripping down his arm as he did, defeating the point. I looked back at his eyes, not bothering to hide how furiously concerned I am. If I’m reading him right, he’s not oblivious to reality. He’s a medic, he knows it better than I do.

He took a shaky breath in. “Fine, you’re right that I’m a little hurt. But we can’t waste time patching me up, I need to get my swords! Rule number one of basic survival is never let the Foot come into possession with highly mystic material ever.”

“Then I’ll go while you take care of yourself.”

“NO!” His head perked up as his eyes grew wider. He tried saving his initial reaction. “No way, not happening. It’s a safer plan if I go in, I’m more used to them” Safer for us or for just me.

“And yet, you got beaten to a pulp, isolated from your weapons, thrown out a window, and are now bleeding with shards of glass sticking out your body. Did I miss anything?” He’s neglected himself all night being overly cocky and confident nothing bad would happen to him. That’s what’s led to him turning out like this! “They didn’t exactly go easy on you, Leo-”

“Then imagine what they’d do to you!”

His brows knit together, staring at me, not blinking. I guess my wish was granted since he finally stopped disguising his true fear.

“Salena, please. Stay here, I’m going in.”

I almost let him go. Almost.

Too bad for him, I yanked him by the mask tails and pulled his stunned face back to face me.

“Hey, wh-”

“Alright, listen. I know whoever these guys are, they’re dangerous as fuck. I know I’m nowhere near as skilled of a fighter as you and I probably never will be. And I know I am way in over my head about this. But none of that matters to me.”

He kept quiet. So I continued. “What matters is that I’m your friend. Friends don’t let each other jump into losing battles, okay? You’re hurt, Leo. Please, just let me help you.”

I looked up at the sky. The clouds are covering the moon now and should stay that way for a little while. I could take advantage of the newfound darkness.

I stood on the ledge, mentally preparing myself to reignite the flames. Sure, I talked big about being able to handle myself and whatnot but I’m just trying to fool myself into thinking I’m not scared. If I can keep myself level-headed and use my sickles, I’ll be able to stay invisible for a short bit. If I play my cards right, that should be all I need.

I felt a hand grab my wrist. Turning around, I readied myself to once again reassure Leo I’d be fine but stopped when he put something in my palm. I recognize them, they’re tanto knives.

“Hey.” His smile is forced but not disingenuous.

“You’ve got this.”

So off I went with the last little push I needed. The cool night air feels fantastically refreshing on my skin. Every leap leaves me more confident I’ll succeed. I have to. He needs someone he knows he can depend on.

I scouted around and found an open window to sneak back in through. Judging by how crazy strong these guys are, my best bet is the element of surprise and for these oversized lethal boomerangs to actually work in my favor. Which they hadn’t before. But nothing’s ever hopeless. The reflection off the moon was their main source of light, with the clouds hiding it now and my knowledge of the floor’s layout, I think I might have a working plan this time.

I rushed over to the balcony I was at previously, this time being more cautious of any look-outs. There were three of them up here so I’m glad I didn’t choose the reckless route. I took my sickles out my backpack, breathed in, and turned invisible. A little harder to do since my nerves haven’t completely disappeared but it’s going smoother than before.

I snuck up to the soldier at the back of the trio, covering his mouth and dragging him to the dark, knocking him out shortly after. His two buddies were a piece of cake after that, hit one with a blunt-force sickle and take the other by hand at the same time. No one noticed a thing.

With the balcony cleared, I reclaimed my little sighting spot and looked over the entire floor, making note of every nook and cranny I could hide in. The clan’s focus changed since last time, they’re trying to get out as fast as possible. Seems like they’re taking Leo’s katanas with them since Lieutenant Itchy McSore-Throat was holding onto them.

“All of you hurry up! We must get out of here!”

I spotted the stolen mannequin in the distance. It’s actually not too far and surprisingly not removed. The two leaders seem distracted by someone. Perfect timing. I crept down and started taking out some more soldiers, listening in to the conversation at the same time.

“What about getting all the mystic metal we can?” That’s a new voice.

“Forget the metal, we’ve got enough for today. We need to leave or that turtle will bring reinforcements!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever makes ya happy, boss.”

“You better not be questioning my authority.”

“Our authority, he means. We’ve had your type before, and they grew to be traitors. I suggest you don’t test the patience of the Foot ‘cause it’s growin’ thin.”

“Nice phrasing! Even if you shouldn’t have interrupted me.” I can’t tell if these two have workplace tension or workplace bromance anymore. “But he’s right. You’d do well to remember your place, rookie.”

“Hey, I wasn’t tryna question anything guys. Just sayin’ maybe we should’ve planned this better in case we got caught.”

“So you may be right. We’ll keep it in mind but work on your delivery when it comes to criticism. Now quickly, go join the others.”

“Can I at least hold the magic swords?”

“No.”

She grumbled and left through the door, likely exiting the building. Her attitude was a pleasant surprise. I’ll admit, I kinda assumed all the Foot soldiers had brain-numbing levels of obedience.

The clouds were clearing up, though. The moonlight brightened the room back up, I can’t use the darkness for cover much longer. Alas, if only I knew how to use my literal invisibility powers for longer than a few seconds but you know what? This is genuinely perfectly okay. I’ve taken out enough of them to only leave a few left standing, not to mention the majority of them are already out the building. I gotta take these freaks head on if I wanna get Leo’s swords. No more hide and seek.

I let the light illuminate me.

“Hey guys!~” I waved gleefully as the Foot idiots finally noticed my presence. “Remember me? Hope it hasn’t been too long.”

“You!” The Brute turned to me first. “You’re the Hamato ally from earlier!”

“What are you doing here! Why have you returned!”

“You sure have a way of asking questions that makes them feel like statements. Anyway, I’m here to collect something you stole from my friend.”

He gripped the swords as he scowled at me. I held my own sickles tighter.

“You foolish child! You leave us no choice but take you out permanently.”

“Oh, really now? You and what army.”

I scoffed when I caught his expression change. Everyone looked at each other, noting how very few of them are suddenly in the room. So distracted they barely noticed me going for my first blow.

He quickly got ready to block me with Leo’s weapon, absolutely bewildered when I only zoomed past him and sliced at the leg of another soldier behind him. It wasn’t too deep but poor guy was still rendered useless. I dashed to my left at another soldier, dodging his attack and punching right up his chin.

“What’s going on!? Those sickles were dull the last time she used ‘em!”

“They must be mystic…”

“Right you are, Lieutenant! I kept them dull on purpose, my mistake.”

I threw a tanto at a cultist’s shoulder.

“You threw Leo out a window. I think you can bear to see some blood.”

One by one, I went around the room, sprinting past anyone chasing after me and immobilizing anyone with their guard down. I got in a groove good enough to keep myself progressing along while getting out my rage. I wasn’t kidding before, I would’ve kept my blades dull again. I’m still careful to not do anything fatal but I’m not gonna be exactly merciful, either. They deserve this.

Fighting felt like dancing, gliding across the room in an energetic fashion. I’m not crazy enough to go for the Lieutenant or Brute which ended up being a plus for me. They was more than ready to protect themselves, but not their team. At last, I got them all exactly where I needed them.

Alright, stay calm. Turn invisible no matter what.

My sickles shone with a pink glow, allowing me to disappear from their sight. I scampered past them, reaching the bejeweled mannequin behind them. It feels a little different? But there isn’t any concrete proof for this so my brain’s just tricking me. Whatever, no time to lose. I shoved it in my bag, getting myself used to the weight, and aimed a sickle at his arm.

“Where’d she go!?”

“Stay alert! Don’t let her catch you off guard!”

A bit late for that buddy.

My blade sliced through, leaving a massive gash on his arm. He screamed and dropped Leo’s sword. I ran through, catching it just as I became visible again. I snatched the other one as quickly as possible and sprinted to create some distance.

I held my arm up to my face, making good use of the wraps’ built-in comms. “Leo! Heads up!”

I threw a katana out the window, smashing the glass as it flew outside. I stopped in my tracks with a smirk. I knew we won.

I dodged the last attacks of the night, accelerating faster than I realized I could go. “Well folks, this was quite a fun match! Hope to never see you again!” Blue light sparked across my body. I leapt in the air, gave a quick peace sign purely to piss ‘em off, and bid my farewell.

“Toodles~”

Teleportation isn’t actually too bad if you know it’s coming.

The cool night air returned on my skin. I was floating for a few seconds before crashing to the roof on my knees. I didn’t even care about the pain, I was too busy enjoying the hug I received for my success!

“I DID IT! I FUCKING DID IT! WOOHOO!!!”

“Celebrations later, escaping now! Come on!”

Leo dragged me up and pulled us through another portal.

***

“We are the champions!~

“Gone with the losers ‘cause we are the champions!”

I handed another slice of pizza to Leo, half the box pepperoni for him and the other half plain cheese for me. We already dropped off the mannequin back to the museum and I gave an anonymous tip to 911 so now we’re simply chilling on the roof singing to celebrate our victorious night. I’m honestly still hyper as hell over it.

“I can’t believe we actually did it! I can’t believe I actually did it! Salena one, Foot Clan NONE BABY, FUCK YEA!”

“Man, I am so happy you came out okay. You have no idea how relieved I was when I saw you again.” He bit into the cheese, the least stressed I’ve seen him all night.

I couldn’t realize it earlier but that hug he gave wasn’t for my success. It’s clear to me now.

“Leo?”

“Hm?” He looked towards me as he bit into the cheese.

“Thanks for trusting me.”

He mirrored my smile. “Hey, we’re friends, right? That’s what I’m here for.”

The spring breeze feels so sweet. The view of the city is rewarding as always. A safe city, a safe night. I can see why they’re so into this whole hero gig. Everything about this moment feels absolutely perfect.

Buzz! Buzz!

I swear to god if my fucking phone’s gonna ruin it again. I quickly checked the notif to see if it was anything important. To my surprise, it’s Jaiden.

They sent me a text. The first one in weeks. It’s a dumb meme I saw earlier today.

We used to do this a lot in the past. Whenever we got into a fight, it’d be our way of ending it. We could never stay mad at each other for more than a day. In the past at least.

I guess this means they’re not mad at me anymore.

“Everything okay?” Leo stared at me, probably concerned by my change in demeanor.

I double tapped to like Jaiden’s meme and put my phone away, going back to normal.

“It’s nothing important. Just, uh, highschool stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”

He laughed “Oh, okay, well. I know I’m too fabulous to be the average, uncool, normal teen guy doing normal teen things like going to highschool that you want right now but…”

“If you ever need someone to lend a shoulder, you know who to call.”

He’s an idiot, but a very sweet one when he wants to be.

“Thanks, Leo, but I mean it this time. It’s nothing.” I raised up my slice to request a toast of some sorts. “Let’s go back to celebrating, shall we?”

He let out a satisfied chuckle, returning my toast. I didn’t wanna let anything ruin the way I felt tonight, even if their text tainted the vibe a bit. But hey, it’s technically a win, too! I got my confirmation that Jaiden and I are indeed still friends.

Though I gotta admit, I’m not as happy as I thought I’d be.

Next Chapter

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